Traversing the Hot and the Cold

I sit in the dark as I type this, waiting for The Boyfriend to awake from his slumber so that we can go over to my gram's to have dinner. What a way to spend my Saturday off. Just while all my time away at home. Oh well, gives me the opportunity (or should I say excuse) to post up some photos I took in Abu Dhabi and Sydney.

Like I said, the Abu Dhabi-ans are mighty uptight about getting their anythings on camera (so much so I wonder what the sales of such equipment is like over there) so most of the photographs I took were either in some mode of transport or in my hotel room, out of sight. For example, this one of the presidential palace.

And this magnificent building, too. Much of the architecture in Abi Dubai (shorthand for Abu Dhabi and Dubai for the uninitiated) is like so, with nothing but window panes on the facade and an exorbitant amount willingly paid by the oil-rich sheiks for the air-conditioning. After all, if that's not the way to flaunt your wealth, then what is?

(What I thought was) An ingenious way to heat up my breakfast. Ended up just making the glass shelf directly above wet with condensation and me, wet with fear that it would crack. And my stupid system didn't even heat up my quiche that well! All this trouble when I could've just gone to the lounge? But, see, I wanted to avoid going downstairs and risk the possible danger of being asked to stay longer than I want, or need to, just to keep some lonely soul tapping on the wireless network with his lappie company.

It being my first time to Sydney, I was determined to take a look at something famous over there. And what more obvious choice than the Sydney Opera House? After getting the ridiculously simple directions from the concierge, I made my way on what was supposed to be a 10-minute walk.

It turned out to be closer to half and hour. By the time I caught sight of the landmark, my legs were leaden from all the work I had made it do the entire day. Still, it was worth it. Can't say the same about the pictures I took of it though, I'm afraid:

Bereft of a tripod, this was the only way I could get my cam to take a picture without my shaking ruining it - by placing it on the bench I was sitting on. And because every single shot I tried to take with it in the background behind me was pathetic, I decided to walk the rest of the distance to the Opera House (something like that between One Fullerton and the Esplanade).

That turned out to be a decision made in poor assessment of the situation: half-way to the Esplanade - I beg your pardon, Opera House - my fingers started turn really cold from the exposure to the harbour. Yet, I plodded on, determined to make my way there and do this:

Finally, too tired and my fingers too numb to make it back to my room on my own two feet, I decided to take the neraby CityRail. At A$2.20 to get to a station three stops away, it was a little over-priced, but the experience was novel enough to justify it. And, oh, look! Two decks!

After which I promptly fell asleep in my room, exhausted from the day's work and exploration. Only to be awoke by a long-di call from a certain Kym from Great Eastern inquiring about taking out a savings plan with her. So which of your smarty-pants gave her my number???