no wonders in oz

the first thing in oz? a russian shuttle driver BORIS. so very eastern european, a chain smoker, with a mobile proudly protruding from his chest pocket. pointing his finger at me saying: 'and you? your name?' with a familiar accent.
the second? tokyo village. a hostel run by a german full of japanese. i'm the only one without slanting eyes. the cheerfulness of the place should be contageous.
the third? the heart of the city, the icons, the opera, the bridge seen from a two-wheeled perspective. cycling is the only way i can enjoy sydney if there is anything to enjoy here. massive concrete giants, the endless flow of cars and people, the seedy streets of the suburbs...with all that around there's just one thing i want - to GET AWAY FROM HERE - from an elderly Aborigine with white strikes of traditional painting on his body sitting idle by the quay - a fake?