And the Pilgrimage begins!

31.5 hours after leaving Munich I finally set foot on Australian soil in Sydney Kingsford Smith Intl Airport. Though by the looks of the people in the terminal I had not arrived in Australia at all; instead it seemed I had just arrived in Mexico just in time for a fiesta: hundreds of Mexicans (recognizable by the authentic Sombreros they were sporting) were congregated in the arrival area. This greeting that I received when I landed in Australia was perfectly in tune with my entire trip over the past 31.2 hours, for that itself had been marked by diversity and strangeness. Here's a quick summary:

Five hours after leaving MUC I arrived in Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates. I stepped off the plane at 8:30 p.m. local time into what seemed to be the pipe of an overactive furnace: walking through the terminal tunnel I broke a sweat in the 38 degree Celsius heat. The sun was not shining, it was completely dark, and it was 38 degrees. How do people inhabit this part of the earth I ask you?

As I reached the main terminal of the Abu Dhabi airport I found myself in what looked like a chamber in Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory: the terminal was round, in the center of the circle a massive pillar erupted and branched out to form a dome for a roof, which happened to be bedecked in green and purple sparkling tiles in Mosaic fashion. Very strange.

And this was to be my home for the next 13.5 hours until my morning flight left for Sydney. Contemplating my surroundings, I realized there was no way I would get a wink of sleep during this layover: the terminal was buzzing with chatter, interrupted every two minutes by a very loud, Arabic male intercom voice announcing flights and calling for passengers. Resolved to stay the night in a hotel, I weaved my way through the crowd of shrouded women and robed men to the information desk to ask for directions.

I posed my query to a friendly Arabic gentleman behind the counter who complimented me on my smile (we were instant BFs). After phoning the airport's Transit Hotel he informed me of the nightly rate (which I will not convey here because it was somewhat absurd, but desperate as I was I just eagerly asked for directions). Before pointing me in the right direction he paused with a contemplative look on his face. He then asked did I not have any friends I could stay with in Abu Dhabi or Dubai for the night? Um. No, I said. Again he paused. Afraid that he was about to offer me one of his acquaintances I hastily thanked him for his help and bade him goodbye (we were, after all, not BFFs).

So stay in the Transit Hotel I did. In the morning I caught my 15 hour flight to Sydney and it was here, when I landed, that I got my first glimpse of religious pilgrims who had come from all over the world to Sydney for the upcoming week's World Youth Day 2008.

My day of arrival was a blur of jet lagged memories. After being picked up along with the other Marist students at the airport I found myself at my homestay in the suburb of Willoughby, just 15 minutes outside of Sydney. Due to the WYD events we were forced to take the Harbour tunnel rather than the bridge, and it was not until the next day that I would get to see the iconic bridge.

So Friday we set off into the city. First stop: Darling Harbor! It was a beautiful day with crystal clear blue sky. We walked from Town Hall station along the streets of the Central Business District to the harbor. We saw the Sydney Aquarium, the IMax Theater, a long line of fancy-looking restaurants and shops situated ideally on Cockle Bay Wharf, the Chinese Friendship Garden, and finally, Chinatown.





All of this we did while snaking our way through the mass of pilgrims (recognizable by their orange backpacks handed out by the city of Sydney, fully equipped with all that a pilgrim might need; e.g. water bottle, maps of the city, a mini crucifix, etc.) congregating in the harbor in preparation for the night's World Youth Day event: what that was we only came to find out once we had eaten a divine lunch in Chinatown and then made our way from Central station to Circular Quay station in Sydney Cove.

The mass of pilgrims congregated in Darling Harbor, we came to realize, paled in comparison to those packing the promenades along Sydney Harbor. There were groups of pilgrims forming trains to snake through the crowd, each train bearing a different country's flag. Italy paved the way for us and we followed them along the harbor to Sydney's crown jewel: the Sydney Opera House. What an amazing structure! Already huge, the building was accompanied that day by a gigantic concert stage
built facing the Opera House stairs. This makeshift stadium was already filled with thousands of pilgrims when we arrived, and more were on their way.

We decided to avoid the crowd and walk around the back of the Opera House to admire the sparkling harbor and the impressive Harbor Bridge. Finding a particularly picturesque spot, we asked two women sitting on a bench to snap a photo of us.

They were Americans from Michigan, pilgrims come to celebrate tonight's event: the station of the cross. From them we learned that that evening there was to be a reenactment of the first station of the cross, stretching from Sydney Harbor to Darling Harbor. This, the women explained, was the reason why pilgrims had plopped themselves down on any patch of pavement or grass they could find with bags of food and blankets: all in hopes of catching a glimpse of the cross en route.

Finishing our walk around the harbor, we decided to call it a day. We would come back another day when there was room to walk side-by-side. After all, the pilgrimage has only just begun!

Introduction

Welcome to my blog! This blog will feature highlights, journal entries and photographs from my study abroad experience in Sydney, Australia. For the ensuing four months of my abroad experience I plan to relate all the most interesting, exciting and eye-opening aspects of my time in Australia, a country seemingly so similar to Western countries yet surprisingly foreign to many Westerners...
Let the journey begin!