Secret Hotels and Pants

Or how Ryan Reynolds came to be waiting in my bedroom in a Sydney Hotel.

Toodle pip, Happy Hobos

Today I am home sick in bed and to stave off the frustration and whiny-ness that comes with suffering from a mutated strain of Man Flu, we are going to reminisce about a particularly wonderful moment during a short wandering to Sydney last year.

Tip for beginners:  Hotels want to create the best experience possible for you.  Run with that.

My good friend and I had planned a trip to the city to see Nickelback (don’t judge.  I love them and nothing you can say will sway me in my undying affection for all things Nickelback.)  She bought the tickets for us for my birthday and it was my job to book the accommodation.  So I jumped online to find us a place to stay in the city.  I ended up booking a mystery hotel in an area that was suitable to get us the nicest accommodation at the best price.

With the concert on a Friday night it was an almost interminable wait to get through the work day to be able to leave.  Not even the torrential rain that had set in could dampen our sprits (see what I did there?)

Straight on to Facebook to send my excitement to Lois.

J: “I have tickets!”
L: “Wooooo I love tickets!
Also pants if they are dry.”
L: “I can’t leave without pants, can I?”
J: “Pants? Where weren’t going we don’t need pants.
…..I may have gotten my Back to the Future quote slightly wrong.  But the sentiment still stands.”

pre_concert_texts copy

Long story short: Torrential rain.  Wet pants.  Left late but still in fine spirits.


Nickelback playing all the way down to Sydney, we laughed and chatted and I had all but forgotten my shenanegans of a month ago when I was booking the hotel.

So you know how there is a section for special requests when you’re booking a hotel online?  Like if you’re vegan or gluten intolerant or allergic to pillows?  I had filled this out asking for pictures of Ryan Reynolds to be placed next to the beds thinking it would be wonderful to see Lois’ face when she walked into the room.

And then let it slip my mind in the Nickelback/Girls Night out excitement.  After everything going pretty much smoothly getting up to our room (it wouldn’t be a trip with Lois without her tripping over something.  For the life of me I still can’t understand how she tripped while walking up a disability ramp) Lois opened the door and stopped in her tracks.

All I have to say is


As requested, Ryan Reynolds was waiting for us in our room.

I really could not have asked for anything better.  The look on Lois’s face was priceless as she tried to work out why the hotel had done this and then realised I must have had a hand in it.



Now I’m not much of a girly girl when it comes to getting ready to go out.  Twenty minutes and I’m through the shower, dressed, makeuped and waiting to leave. But I am the organised type of girl.  Which is lucky, because I’m pretty sure there are people around me who would die of hygiene related diseases or scurvy if I wasn’t that kind of person.  For example:

Lois goes for a shower.
Comes back out 30 seconds later,
L: “Did you pack body wash?”
J:”Yep. I packed the one you’re not allergic to for you.”
Unpacks bag and hands it to her.
Lois goes for a shower.
Thirty seconds later,
L: “Did you pack tooth paste?”
J:”Yep. It’s in the bathroom for you.”

Damn you, Lois! You’ve turned me into the adultier adult in this friendship.


Fast forward to us waiting through the support band, Monster Truck.

J: “Have you ever heard the theory about a man’s guitar face being his sex face?”
L: “Yeah?”
J: “Watch the guitarist with that in your mind…”
3…2…1…Both erupt in fits of laughter.

No seriously, if you are ever in a position where you are watching Monster Truck live, you have to watch the guitarist with that thought in your head. They are a band that look like they stepped straight out of the 80’s pub rock scene.  This guy had on an unbuttoned denim vest with no t-shirt underneath, denim jeans, no shoes and had the long rock hair to whip back and forth.  The bouncing and facials on this man were superb.  It was made all the funnier when I looked over at the keyboard player; from our vantage point we couldn’t see his hands, just his arms moving up and down while he stared intently at the guitarist.

J: “Oh no.  You have to look at the keyboard player.”
L: “Why?”
J: “Look at him.  It looks like he’s touching himself looking at the sex faces on the guitar player.”
L: “Oh God! You’re not wrong.”
Further fits of laughter and corrupting of the people we had met around us.

What followed was a night of great music, much laughter, room service and wine.  The hotel let us leave the car in their parking lot after checking out, which saved us a fortune at Sydney parking prices and we spent the next day wandering through Sydney enjoying the parklands, galleries and book shops.


As a side note, we weren’t even drunk before we got back to the hotel.  Not a single bar or restaurant was open on the way back from the gig.  Sydney shuts ridiculously early. Take lessons from Melbourne, Sydney.

And on that note, I will bid you adieu.

As always

The Brunch Fuelled Vagabond

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Find the Cheapest Price online for the Novotel, Sydney Central here. No seriously, I’ve linked straight to it for you. *you’rewelcomeverymuch*



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