After a serious amount of cabin air and losing a day to the skies we had left South America behind and landed in Sydney, Australia. Staying at our friend Ben's (to whom we are extremely grateful) house in a pretty neighbourhood called Glebe we had 5 days to get to grips with the city, and an entirely different continent for the first time in months.

The standard sights of the Opera House, Harbour Bridge and the quayside were pretty cool, but perhaps as every person under the sun knows exactly what they look like without going to Australia we were slightly underwhelmed. But that wasnt what we came for, the beaches were. And we were not dissapointed! Our first glimpse of Sydneys truely greatest assets was at Manly beach, complete with picture-postcard-perfect golden sands and glass clear turquoise water, with surf-video-perfect waves to match. All our fears and doubts we may have been harbouring (experiencing culture shock somewhat - its just so easy here!) dissapeared in an instant, the journey had been worth it.

Our next stop was Newcastle, which if the opinions offered to us from Aussies are representative, doesnt carry much favour with many of the locals. But it was fantastic, and we had a great few days in the small town surfing at some great beaches, giggling like schoolkids at fluffy marsupials in a nature reserve and watching Surfest 2009 - a pro surf competition. Needless to say we were left feeling very very inadequate in the water after watching the pros carve up the ocean.

After a week or so in Australia we can confidently report several things. Stereotypes are born from some truth. Everyone is called Jessie. Everyone does have bleached blonde hair. Every man and their dog is both a pro surfer and a pro drinker. And they really do barbeque a lot. Neighbours and Home & Away are actually documentaries, and Going Round the Twist?! Like a real life Truman show. Fact.

An odd thing must have occurred somewhere over the pacific ocean. We left south America as the younger clueless travellers, and arrived as a weird old couple at some A level results party. The attitude at our hostel in Newcastle appears to have read as follows;

"Are you 18? Are you Irish? Are you drunk? Do you shop exclusively and without exception at JJB sports? Do you enjoy playing RnBchartpopcheesekillersrobbiewilliamsrhianna on your tinny mobile phone speakers? Yes?! Welcome inside. NO?! Stay in the garden."

We are, unsuprisingly, choosing to save both money and our sanity by camping our way up the coast.