So much has happened since my last blog entry that I’m not really sure where to begin with this one. I last left off with birthday celebrations and worries about not ever making it to Sydney….so to make it clear, I arrived there in one piece…or rather half a piece after a killer 48 hour journey to get there.

After birthday shenanigans, my health (and liver) took a turn for the worst and I spent a couple of days in bed, suffering from the vicious (common or otherwise) cold. Having swollen glands and a pounding head when in a stuffy room in Bangkok is not the best combination so it took a fair few days to recover from the worst of it. However, darkest days over with and we began to get updates on the airport situation. After a fleeting, not to mention chaotic, trip to the Qantas office in Bangkok (back to dodgy car parks and dodgier men), I was told that the chances of me flying out of Bangkok until after December 10th were slim. This being the case, I had to postpone my flight to New Zealand until the 15th to be on the safe side.

Sod’s law then that I got a phonecall on the evening of the 3rd saying I was being flown out on the 4th. Both myself and good friend got on the same relief flight deparing from Phuket which sounds great, but in reality wasn’t the best. Due to being stranded, we were put up in 5* accomodation and got all of our meals for free (I wonder why they were so keen to kick us out?)  meaning that we’d begun to adjust to a life of luxury that we weren’t ready to give up. Additionally, when we receievd the phonecall we were both getting ready for a big night out and so the contents of our backpacks were in a horrific mess, scattered all over our room. Knowing this was then our final night in Thailand, we neglected our packing and went for a drink with some friends.

Getting back in the early hours, with a room full of stuff to fit into two, realistically huge but seemingly small, backpacks, we struggled to get the motivation to pack up anything. Knowing we were up again in a few hours though gave us a much needed kick up the bum and we set to work…

When the alarms (both with the same highly irritating ringtone) went off at 6am that morning we cursed whatever bright spark came up with the ‘relief flight’ idea. Clearly someone who was out to throughly piss off any lazy backpacker.

And so began our very long, very tiring trip to Sydney. 14 hours on a coach, several hours at Phuket airport, a 2 hour flight to Singapore, an 18 hour wait in Singapore and finally and 7 hour flight to Sydney. By the time we landed we were frizzy haired, slightly greasy, slightly smelly, very disgruntled girls who wanted a bed more than anything. Cue the next issue: accomodation. Due to the short notice we were given, there was little time to book anywhere decent and a hostel had to be found on the 15 minutes of internet we could afford in Singapore airport. Not so surprisingly then, did we end up in an absolute dive of a place that smelt suspiciously like wet dog. So much for that life of luxury…

Keen to leave the hound, we went out on the town for our first taste of Aussie life. It tasted pretty good.

Since then, my time in Sydney was a wirlwind of sightseeing, boat trips, laziness, drinking and sleeping. The Opera House and Harbour Bridge were, not shockingly, quite amazing. It’s very surreal to see these monumental sights and get your head around the fact that you’re actually here seeing them, rather than glancing through a magazine or brochure. We took a stunning boat trip to Manly beach which is a hotspot for the surfer dudes and the beautiful folk of Sydney. Although we stood out a mile thanks to our pasty skin and clear cluelessness about where we were going, it was a very nice, very chilled kind of place…definitely somewhere to go back to.

Feeling like all our strenuous activity was taking its toll (ha!) we thought we’d head over to Bondi beach (bigger surfing population, long beaches, beautiful sights) and spent a few days tanning on the beach. Unfortunately our parade was rained on (quite literally) as Sydney suffered a few days of heavy downpour, strong winds and chilliness. Yes, my last few days in Australia were spent in jeans and thick hoodie. Unbe-bloody-lievable. We booked a day of surfing on the wost day – storms and ice cold winds causing me to curse whatever Lonely Planet Guide author told me that Sydney was hot in December. Liar.

After heading back into the city centre I spent an eveing climbing the Harbour Bridge which was was a great experience…and thanks to lugging my monster of a backpack around for a few weeks, I was actually fit enough to do it without gasping for breath at every stop. 20 kilos on your back? Blessing in disguise.

A trip to the Blue Mountains was the icing on my Sydney cake, what with gorgeous views, stunning walks and kangaroos to fill any dull gaps, it was a brilliant day out.

After a final evening out with both Thailand friends and new found room mates, it was time to say farewell to Sydney. It only hit me once back on the hostel that from this point on I was far more alone than I had been since the beginning of my trip. While there had been many nights apart from my friends, they had always been within walking distance to fall back on if needs be. Once in new Zealand it felt like being back to square one.

One of the great things it seems though, about travelling alone, is how much more approachable you become. People are not wary to talk to you, or intimidated so as to avoid a conversation. After arriving at my hostel in Auckland after a long day of travelling (plane delays – my new mortal enemy) I instantly began conversing with a girl in my dorm, although couldn’t keep the conversation flowing for all that long as I swiftly passed out by 9pm. Luckily, my new found friend was forgiving and the following day we went walking the city, looking at the sights and scenery. This was followed by happy hour drinks (cramming as much alcohol into 2 hours as possible) and not surprsingly, another quick collapse into bed.

Yes, there are lonely days and lonlier evenings, but it’s part of the solo traveller package. There are days when you do nothing and days where you do everything and more. It’s a hard balance. Spend too much time busy and you lose precious pennies and need a week to recover from alcohol intake…but spend too much time ‘chilling’ and you lose precious time that could be filled far more productively.

Perhaps the biggest annoyance (but possibly the most fun thing about it) is not being able to make solid plans as you never know who you are going to meet or where they might take you. Planning a trip 2 days in advance may seem wise, but what if, an hour later, you meet fantastic people planning the same trip in 3 days time? It’s tricky.

Trickiness isn’t always a curse though and it’s a roll-with-the-punches situation. I’m already loving my time here and look forward to days filled with travelling through fields, mountains and rivers, hobbit hunting and tree talking. That still happens here right? The soundtrack is already ringing in my ears…