We haven’t really been hit by a culture shock as of yet, rather a lot of culture quirks. Most of them have been positive, there appears to be unwritten social laws here that require you to smile and talk to strangers. No where else is this more apparent than in the elevator. Living in a hotel we speak to at least five people daily, wondering how they are, what they are doing tonight, where they are going and telling them we’ll “see ya”. When is never uttered.

Other things we have to resign to, even if they seem stupid to us. Our appartment mentioned in the previous entry, slipped out of our fingers simply because the owner decided against renting it out anymore. Luckily our second choice were still availible, and we got it despite there were already someone else who had put in an application for it. During the payment of the bond (four weeks of payment) and the two weeks advance rent, we had to sign or names at least 15 times each. A clause in our contract require us to pay for a professional cleaning and pest control when we leave. And if the owner’s not satisfied, he will request another at our expense. Veronica wondered what would happen if we just skipped the cleaning, we have to pay for it anyway. That way we wouldn’t risk paying twice.

Oh well, the appartment is (hopefully) ours to move in on Monday. Instead of a pool we are closer to the beach, the bus stop to school and we have a large sundeck and two floors. Otherwise it’s mostly the same, if not “overfurnished”, there are some lamps in particular we’d like to keep out of sight. We had already paid for the hotel ‘till Sunday in lieu of waiting for the other appartment so it was actually a relief that we coulnd’t move in to this until Monday. If it was a relief that the money weren’t wasted or just of getting an appartment after all this stress I can not tell.

My cell phone stopped working. I know I said I’d shut it down the first of September, but I was to contact NetCom to let them know. I need it for at least a week until I can get an Australian number. Because to get an Australian number you need a contact number, and to get a contact number you need a phone. Yup, it’s the classic chicken and the egg situation and a great example of Australian burecracy. Hopefully, once we get the land-line installed, things will work out. Until then I have to mail my dad to call NetCom because I can’t call them myself because my phone is shut down. Oh the irony. Grrr.

So, this was the latest news from the place that’s geographically opposite to and in spirit of Miami Beach, Surfers Paradise. And there’s even more to read from Veronica. What’s new back home?