Farewell to Sydney

Dear Sydney,

Your sunny days have acquired cool breezes, and your surfers have pulled their wetsuits out from their summer hiding places, reflecting the chill in the air and the water. And, hence, my sundresses hang wearily in the closet reminiscing the warm summer nights on which they were showcased. Those perfect beach days offered only weeks ago now beckon from the northern hemisphere as rainclouds settle over your coast. And so my Australian sojourn ends.

Our time together has seemed short, perhaps because we accomplished Mission Non-Stop Fun, and it’s been a roller coaster of delight—lounging lazily on your sandy shores by day and attempting dance moves to your double-time techno beats by night. Your enjoyable pace of life put lines of accomplishment across my book list, and it’s to your credit that my fear of heights (and bugs) has waned. But why is it that the last few days and nights before departure always seem to be the best? Why does the DJ play all the best songs in a row on your last night at his stompin’ ground? Why does the sunset suddenly showcase oranges and pinks like you’ve never seen before?

Leaving is not entirely sad, as more beaches, more sun, and most importantly, my family and friends await me at home. Still, if the bank account, plane ticket, and thermometer in Sydney read differently, I’d welcome a few more months on your Gold Coast. I could go for a few more sangria-soaked nights, a few more lazy Sundays at the markets, a few more long dinners at that favorite Thai place of ours, and few more exhilarating adventures in your natural playground. I should say however, that it’s Larsee Lu, MCG, Meesh, Mito, Steph and Caro (better known as the Mag 7 when I’m included) that made this experience what it was. In years to come when I think back on this Sydney stopover their faces are the ones who will come to mind.

Physically, I have to leave, but mentally, I know a part of me will always keep Australia close. I hope I don’t turn into that annoying person who returns from abroad and pretends that the new country’s lingo and customs are now second-nature, but in my head, when I hear a well-wisher say “good for you” or “best of luck” I’ll think, “good on ya.” I’ll rock out to techno remixed eighties songs in your honor, and when I see a California-sized spider in my room, I’ll laugh and think of the B.F.G. or the number of cockroaches I stepped over on the sidewalks outside The Lodge nightly. The first time I go to my favorite Santa Cruz beach I may reminisce on how soft your sand is, but as I look out from the other side of the Pacific, I’ll give you a little wave, a genuine smile and a wistful sigh in appreciation of the best semester of my life.

Cheers to you, Australia!