Blarg. That about sums up how I've been feeling for the past two days.
I started developing some flu-like symptoms last Friday, and went to a pharmacy after work to get some medicine to try to ward off whatever I was catching. I spent the entire weekend in the apartment sleeping a lot and loading up on the cold & flu tablets trying to avoid getting sick. On Sunday night I made myself a tuna casserole, which tasted delicious at the time (it's one of the few dishes I actually make well), and I put the leftovers in a container in the fridge for a meal the next day. Monday passed without incident, and I polished off the rest of the casserole that evening. That's when things went downhill.
I woke up at about 1am feeling flushed, and my bowels told me that I'd better make it to the bathroom in record time. I spent the remainder of the night on and off the toilet, and had Tuesday off as a result. Unfortunately, my condition didn't really improve at all on Tuesday, and I spent most of the day on the couch in a cold sweat with my stomach making the sort of noises that I expect a volcano does just before erupting. I got practically no sleep at all last night, which led to me having today off as well.
Around noon today things took a turn for the better - I started vomiting. While this may not sound that good, it seems like it got all the bad stuff out of my system, as I'm now feeling (marginally) better than I was before. I'm hoping to get a decent night's sleep and get back to work tomorrow. Sooner or later I may even eat something.
This whole being sick without being hungover thing doesn't happen to me all that often. I think I actually prefer the hangover version.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Beep-beep, beep-beep, yeah
Walked home in the rain today and foolishly stopped in at the supermarket to get some bits and pieces. Note to self: carrying a laptop, shopping bags, some loose items that wouldn't fit in the shopping bags, and an umbrella is not condusive to a pleasant stroll.
Anyway, on the way back to the apartment I went past one of the biggest traffic jams I've ever seen - there must have been 50 buses in the space of a few hundred metres...and none of them was moving. At all. And this included the main part of the intersection itself - the whole place was absolutely chock-a-block (is that a really Aussie saying or does it just sound like it?) full of vehicles.
Attempting to get across a pedestrian crossing in such a situation is a bit of a challenge - it seems like the drivers take it personally if anything on the road is moving and they are not...and this includes people. There were a couple of instances where I tried to walk behind one bus only for the driver of the one behind it to close the (already miniscule) gap between them so that not even Lindsay Lohan would have gotten through.
This leads me to recall some of my other traffic observations from my time in Shanghai so far:
Anyway, on the way back to the apartment I went past one of the biggest traffic jams I've ever seen - there must have been 50 buses in the space of a few hundred metres...and none of them was moving. At all. And this included the main part of the intersection itself - the whole place was absolutely chock-a-block (is that a really Aussie saying or does it just sound like it?) full of vehicles.
Attempting to get across a pedestrian crossing in such a situation is a bit of a challenge - it seems like the drivers take it personally if anything on the road is moving and they are not...and this includes people. There were a couple of instances where I tried to walk behind one bus only for the driver of the one behind it to close the (already miniscule) gap between them so that not even Lindsay Lohan would have gotten through.
This leads me to recall some of my other traffic observations from my time in Shanghai so far:
- Red lights are not a directive telling you to stop, they are simply an advisory that if you continue, you may run into cars traveling the other way.
- The horn is not an optional component, it is an essential part of the driving experience. There is a reason that the horn is accessed via a trigger-like interface on most cars here - if you have not beeped your horn in the last 20 seconds, you are doing something wrong. In fact, I believe people here have had their licences confiscated for 'insufficient horn usage'.
- On a dual-lane road, there are actually three lanes available to you - the two traveling in your direction, and one of the ones going in the other direction. Especially if the people in front of you are only doing a paltry 10km per hour over the posted speed limit.
- Pedestrians do not have the right of way, even at pedestrian crossings. If you are audacious enough to want to cross the road, you can damn well wait until the cars have gotten where they want to go first.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
The Return of the Luggage
My luggage got delivered last night, so all up it was only 48 hours behind me. I was surviving without it but it's nice to know that I don't need to go out spend a heap of money on clothes.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Back in Shanghai...sans luggage
Got back to Shanghai last night after a very long day of traveling. Was up bright and early as I had a 10:45am flight out of Melbourne and still had some last minute packing/organising to do. Got to the airport in plenty of time and after getting through customs settled in for a short wait before boarding.
Unfortunately, the short wait turned into a long one. Boarding time came and went, departure time came and went, and there were no announcements to tell us what was going on. Finally at around midday we got an announcement saying that there was a baggage handler strike in progress, and no-one knew when we would be able to take off. The attendants at the gate handed out vouchers for lunch, but with a few hundred people trying to get food at the same time from the only two open restaurants, it was a bit of a mad rush.
We finally got the ok to board at 2:30, almost four hours after we were originally supposed to take off. However, we were informed that our luggage would not be going with us - it would be sent to us at a later date. After arriving in Shanghai and clearing customs, everyone got their passports photocopied and we all filled out forms with our baggage tags and address details. Luckily I already had some clothes in my apartment from my last trip, but I feel sorry for those who were coming over on holidays or were just here in transit. I'm hoping the bags show up sometime this week.
Unfortunately, the short wait turned into a long one. Boarding time came and went, departure time came and went, and there were no announcements to tell us what was going on. Finally at around midday we got an announcement saying that there was a baggage handler strike in progress, and no-one knew when we would be able to take off. The attendants at the gate handed out vouchers for lunch, but with a few hundred people trying to get food at the same time from the only two open restaurants, it was a bit of a mad rush.
We finally got the ok to board at 2:30, almost four hours after we were originally supposed to take off. However, we were informed that our luggage would not be going with us - it would be sent to us at a later date. After arriving in Shanghai and clearing customs, everyone got their passports photocopied and we all filled out forms with our baggage tags and address details. Luckily I already had some clothes in my apartment from my last trip, but I feel sorry for those who were coming over on holidays or were just here in transit. I'm hoping the bags show up sometime this week.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
"Can't talk - dancing."
Got home this morning at 3:30am after a big day out on the gas (that's Aussie slang for a massive day of drinking for those of you wondering whether I have some sort of flatulence problem). Went to the Belgian Beer Cafe (www.belgianbeercafemelbourne.com) on St Kilda Rd for my friends Nath and Ursula's going away party (they're moving to sunny old England in just over a week). Had a fun day - the weather stayed mercifully shy of the 45 degree/113 Fahrenheit weather we've been having the previous few days, and the beer flowed freely...well, expensively actually...into my glass and then from there into my belly at a rapid pace.
Not surprisingly, I was unwilling to go home at midnight when most others decided to call it quits, so Shotty (co-house-owner, ridiculously good-looking), Shannyn (old friend from the country, very attractive ankles) and I ventured up the road to Federation Square, and wandered in to Transport (www.transporthotel.com.au). Whilst at Transport I seem to recall drinking copious amounts of alcohol but not actually paying for any (my bad) and performing some Justin-Timberlake-esque moves on the ridiculously small dance floor. After a few hours, Shotty and Shannyn went their separate ways, and although I was left alone, I decided to stick it out. I fully intended to stay there until the place closed at 3am, but the bouncers found my dance moves a little too funky for their liking, and decided I needed to be shown the exit at about 2:30. One of them approached me on the floor and the conversation went like this:
Bouncer: "You look like you've had way too much to drink mate"
Me: "Can't talk - dancing."
Bouncer: "Ok, you're out of here."
All I wanted to hear was:
Bouncer: "I don't like you, but I respect your moves."
Obviously he didn't.
After being forcibly marched outside, I meandered (stumbled?) down to Elizabeth St and was ecstatic to find that Subway was still open. Resisting the urge to order all of the remaining stock, I grabbed a foot-long meatball sub and a Powerade, and started the seemingly eternal search for a taxi.
Actually, it was only about 5 minutes later that I found a guy willing to drive me the 5km back to my house. I gave him a nice little tip for not being one of those pricks who pull up, ask where you're going through the window, and then drive off because the fare isn't big enough. Arriving home, I was arrested by the sight of my housemate Chivos, who was passed out on the living room floor. Not on the very comfortable couch, which was only a metre away, but on the floor right in front of the TV. Making my way into the kitchen, I found the reason for his stupor - about 16 empty cans of Melbourne Bitter (Worst. Beer. Ever.) were lined up on the table. After what seemed like 10 minutes (and was, in fact, 10 minutes) of giggling like a schoolgirl, I managed to wake him up and get him into a sitting position. From there, it took a fair bit of effort by both of us to get him into bed. He will be copping it for most of today as a result.
I'm now sitting here at my PC feeling extremely hungover. Six hours of sleep after a big day/night is not the answer. The cricket doesn't start for another few hours, and I can't face the prospect of food for a while yet. Time to whip up a few retrospective posts about my time in China which is, after all, what this blog is supposed to be about.
Not surprisingly, I was unwilling to go home at midnight when most others decided to call it quits, so Shotty (co-house-owner, ridiculously good-looking), Shannyn (old friend from the country, very attractive ankles) and I ventured up the road to Federation Square, and wandered in to Transport (www.transporthotel.com.au). Whilst at Transport I seem to recall drinking copious amounts of alcohol but not actually paying for any (my bad) and performing some Justin-Timberlake-esque moves on the ridiculously small dance floor. After a few hours, Shotty and Shannyn went their separate ways, and although I was left alone, I decided to stick it out. I fully intended to stay there until the place closed at 3am, but the bouncers found my dance moves a little too funky for their liking, and decided I needed to be shown the exit at about 2:30. One of them approached me on the floor and the conversation went like this:
Bouncer: "You look like you've had way too much to drink mate"
Me: "Can't talk - dancing."
Bouncer: "Ok, you're out of here."
All I wanted to hear was:
Bouncer: "I don't like you, but I respect your moves."
Obviously he didn't.
After being forcibly marched outside, I meandered (stumbled?) down to Elizabeth St and was ecstatic to find that Subway was still open. Resisting the urge to order all of the remaining stock, I grabbed a foot-long meatball sub and a Powerade, and started the seemingly eternal search for a taxi.
Actually, it was only about 5 minutes later that I found a guy willing to drive me the 5km back to my house. I gave him a nice little tip for not being one of those pricks who pull up, ask where you're going through the window, and then drive off because the fare isn't big enough. Arriving home, I was arrested by the sight of my housemate Chivos, who was passed out on the living room floor. Not on the very comfortable couch, which was only a metre away, but on the floor right in front of the TV. Making my way into the kitchen, I found the reason for his stupor - about 16 empty cans of Melbourne Bitter (Worst. Beer. Ever.) were lined up on the table. After what seemed like 10 minutes (and was, in fact, 10 minutes) of giggling like a schoolgirl, I managed to wake him up and get him into a sitting position. From there, it took a fair bit of effort by both of us to get him into bed. He will be copping it for most of today as a result.
I'm now sitting here at my PC feeling extremely hungover. Six hours of sleep after a big day/night is not the answer. The cricket doesn't start for another few hours, and I can't face the prospect of food for a while yet. Time to whip up a few retrospective posts about my time in China which is, after all, what this blog is supposed to be about.
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