The past 24 hours have been very telling for my recent immigration to the other side of the world. Touching down Sunday night in Sydney, after I watched the coastline emerge on the distant horizon and slipped over the miles of mingled city and wilderness, the reality of the whole thing finally started to sink in, and for the first time I truly thought to myself, “What the hell did I just do?” I was landing in my new home, where I barely knew anyone, and as the cab drove me to my temporary apartment, I realized just how little I knew about the city. I’d made this move with all the subtlety of a wet dodgeball to the face.
Monday morning was fairly overwhelming as well. I had to sneak my way up to the office floor using my cleverly convincing approach of looking completely confused, since apparently nobody starts here before 9, including reception, and the elevator is badge locked. But, once I had a couple cups of coffee and some Advil in me, and cleaned the vast amount of crap left behind in my new space, I was easing in. Over the course of the day I got no end of help and advice, getting the tour around the office, an invitation to the office Christmas party on Wednesday, a list of all the things I would need to do as a new import, and even a lead on a room for rent. For my first 24 hours, I felt things went quite well.
It didn’t hurt that I found on my way to work, I pass no less than four outdoor/climbing gear shops. Hot damn.