The best thing about my trip to Australia was the fact that I got to meet with people I haven't seen in years. My bestfriend, who lived in Eastwood for 7 years, was eager to take me out on a Sydney Pub Crawl. I was ecstatic. It was a Friday and I had a very busy week. I had to give myself a much-needed alcohol intake.

Unfortunately, I didn't anticipate that the trip from the Central Coast to Sydney would take more than two hours long. There were two options: there's the express train (limited stops) and regular trains (with heaps of stops). I ended up taking a regular train. By the time I got to Sydney, I was ready to go to bed.

But of course, that didn't happen.

We started our pub crawl at the Aurora pub. I had my first two Ciders ever. I've never really been a beer drinker so I settled for Ciders. That was the first mistake I made. We moved to another pub and then another. Our goal was to have one shot per pub. I did, however, get two or more at some of them.

There's this cool pub called Forresters in Surry Hills which had the best mojitos. We had a pitcher of a four seasons-flavored mojito. It was AWESOME. Next, we moved to a place where they served these Skittle shots.


Me: Why are they called Skittle Shots? (There were no Skittles on it.)
Bartender: Try it:
Me: Gulp gulp.... AAAHHHHHH!!!

It tasted like fucking Skittles mate.

We ended up on Oxford Street where everything gay and fabulous are. We stayed at the Stonewall pub where there was a drag show. I enjoyed it so much. I performers were amazing though I was pretty scared actually. The drag queens were more muscular than most men I know. It was hilarious.


After three ciders, I was dancing wildly - on my own. I remember meeting a girl and her gay friend and we danced for a bit when I heard Disclosure's "Latch". I kept screaming "That's my song!!" for like a hundred times. My bestfriend said someone was taking a video of me with my hands up in the air while dancing.

Those idiots put that video on Instagram, by the way.

I was drunk and tired and it was time to go home. On the train on our way to my bestfriend's place, I started crying and screaming "I Love You ________". My bestfriend enjoyed while watching me have my usual "alcohol breakdown."

When I woke up the next day, I had no memory of going on a train, walking to my bestfriend's apartment or almost anything that happened after my 8 or 9th (God knows how many) ciders.