Still seeking great pub to inaugurate the new year

Okay, it's back to reality as I've returned from my one day getaway to South Carolina. It was a pleasant one, albeit far too short. Happy 2007 to all.

In many ways, this New Year's celebration mirrored that of last year's, to which I was thankful, although it certainly was not designed to be. Comparisons between Sydney and Myrtle Beach are hard to make, but yet I try LOL.

Great seafood? Check. Last year I didn't make it to my beloved Doyle's at Watson's Bay for New Year's (I think they were closed or something scandalous like that), so this year it was "The Original Benjamins Seafood Buffet", which came complete with a replica of the "Queen Elizabeth" liner in the lobby, sheltered from at least 10 artificial life-size sharks hanging from the ceiling. Unlike Doyle's, though, this place was so large I actually got lost from the buffet going back to my table.

Celebrations on and/or in immediate vicinity of a beach? Check. The only difference was that I bought my fireworks (well, sparklers) for this year, although the "Sydney Harbour" set was on sale at Willard's Fireworks...had I wanted to shill out that kind of dough. Gotta love South Carolina: they have year-round fireworks stores, whereas most of North Carolina's only stay open during the Fourth of July holidays.

Australian food? Check. And, no, I did not go to Outback, but instead to the superb Greg Norman's Australian Grille in North Myrtle Beach...although that place doesn't serve a decent Aussie beer, his wine selection is overpriced, and they even marinate some of the luncheon fish items in Fosters beer instead. Still, I forgive The Shark for these transgressions and compliment his soon-to-be ex-wife Laura for the interior design.

A day spent a bit too much exposed to the elements? Check. Last year it was the hottest day in Sydney's immediate history when the trains stopped running and I decided to walk across the Sydney Harbour Bridge...earning a horrific sunburn; this year, I actually had to retreat from two beaches yesterday because I feared double earache and from the cold. Either way, Mother Nature had her way with me.

Did some reading on the beach? Check. Last year, I spread it out some at Bondi Beach and then much later at Maroubra Beach (well, actually the latter was stranded at the wooden bus shelter there waiting for a tardy bus, weathering out a surprise nighttime sandstorm), and it was some philosophy. This year, it was near the closed areas of Cherry Grove Pier, reading about weight and debt management. I'm hoping in five years' time to be at still some other beach and just read the normal beach junk and magazines like everyone else does.



Did I collect seashells? Check, most definitely check. (For those of you online who are unaware of the story of me and my seashells, suffice it to say my beloved Father started the collection with me when I was about four years old. Now, no matter where I go, I bring back a rock and/or a seashell with me and add it to my collection: France, Spain, Italy, Monaco, Canada, England, Australia of course, and many others.) In many ways, these physical mementos are the most loved souvenirs of all my travels...and represent all the journeys I've gotten to go on...and all of the same trips my dad never could.

And, finally, the pub...did I toast the night off with a good meal and bottle of brew? Last year, I was lucky to make it to my two favourite pubs in all of Sydney for some great food, some great beer, and even better conversation with complete strangers (and sports fans) alike. Last night, I attempted to do the same in Wilmington on the way back home, at the Front Street Brewery downtown (which used to be quite good, once upon a time). Sadly, with the exception of good conversation, the meal and beer were substandard. On the plus side, though, I've got a new lead on where I can get some work as an extra there this summer...so maybe not all was lost. But oh, what I would have given last night for an Irish singalong at The Mercantile in The Rocks or some steak (with mushroom sauce) and middie beer special at Churchill's (wherever in Sydney my friend Sunshine says it's located). Oh, well...the search continues.

The Grand Strand, here I come

A very quick post, to wish everyone the best for this New Year and to alert loved ones and friends who keep in contact through here where I'm (in theory) going for the fateful night, since I refuse to do an 'Aussie celebration' at Outback.

The WWE wrestling show last night was eventful (and I came back with some pictures of mixed quality to boot), but I actually had more delightful exchanges with the die-hard children fans surrounding me than actually watching 'the sport' itself. Let me tease you with this: I was the only one over the age of 14 sitting in my row, which somehow was also in front of some interesting, and highly enthusiastic, females who taught me words for the male anatomy that I had no idea even existed, let alone could and/or would be yelled at ear-numbing levels to grown men wearing overstuffed spandex. Rest assured, a fuller description is to be fleshed out upon my return, for it's quite apparent now I've led a very sheltered life.

The John Edwards rally here this afternoon/evening, though, was a bit to be desired. While the message seemed to hit all the right buttons with the audience (save one platform, though: the wishes of Mr Edwards to help "unionize Americans into getting good and decent-paying jobs again"...that ship has long sailed, Sir, and I'm not sure we have that many job fields left that would lend themselves to new union introduction), the whole pre-speech atmosphere and characteristics of it all clearly indicate the newly-announced campaign will need some immediate organizational retooling. First off, it started more than 1.5 hours late and many early attendees left due to the cold and lack of communication regarding the delay. Secondly, the music...which I can only guess was not supposed to be of a 'theme' like most political campaigns, but rather as some 'background loop'. At least I hope that was the plan. For Pete's sake, people, they played The Eagles' "Life in the Fast Lane" twice to the crowd before Mr Edwards even approached the podium...egads. If part of the 'experience', what, exactly, was the message that song was sending out to the crowd?? Yikes again, but more on that upon my return as well.

Finally, I've found a place on the Carolinas version of The Redneck Riviera (aka Myrtle Beach, aka The Grand Strand) where I can spend a hopefully joyful New Year's Eve. With so many friends out of town and WR sick and staying in, I searched and I searched for an appropriate beach retreat. Apparently the 'slower' beaches were long sought out, and by people with far more discretionary income than I have at present. Given the short turn around time (I must be back at work bright and early on 2 Jan), I couldn't really drive further down south more with the truck...although Charleston and some smaller areas of the live oaks are must-do trips this year. Anywho, I'm out of here in the morning for a 'Zoeism' adventure (a private joke of my old AA co-workers on me...I can never, ever have a normal trip by history), hopefully retiring to a 3.5 star rented resort condo (which was cheaper than a regular room, go figure). Thank God for the heavy discounts dished out by Hotwire...excluding gasoline to and fro, the small condo rental actually prices out less than the wrestling ticket. God and jail willing, I suppose I'll blog on this event as well...unless I get too depressed about being alone again this year. If my next posts include the video and lyrics to Queen's fabulous mantra "(Find Me) Somebody to Love", you'll know I had a somewhat melancholy break.

My very best to you all reading and I will have a silent toast that we will all have a healthier, happier, and wiser year in 2007. Be safe, be joyful, and be blessed. Love and best wishes always to you and yours...wherever that may be.