Sydney

No introduction necessary
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And so to Sydney. Travelling take a bow, time to weigh anchor. After living out of a rucksack for four weeks (not that long, but enough) we welcomed the chance.

Ed's school and university friend and all-round life guru Dave Hill picked us up from the airport and took us straight to the flat he was handing over to us, via the estate agent, where we found ourselves signing the lease just four hours after landing. Luckily we liked the flat. The rental market in Sydney at the moment is crazy - they do group viewings on each property just once a week for half an hour and the first person to race back to the estate agent with the right cash wins. Bunfights all round. We also inherited all of Dave's belongings down to the garlic crusher saving us hair-tearing trips to IKEA (yes, there is one in Sydney).

There are so many beaches you could go to a different one every weekend over the summer months

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Our flat is in Surry Hills, which is just south of the city centre, and the Shoreditch of Sydney. Lots of skinny jeans, pork pie hats and plenty of bars. We love it. We've already found $10 steak night just round the corner. In fact we're headed there in about an hour. It does mean we have to get a bus to the beach but we're sucking it up.

Sydney the city is incredible. If you got a bunch of mates to create a city from scratch, it would probably be Sydney (there's a Carlsberg ad in there somewhere). A New York skyline, clean streets, a monorail (I mean, who has a monorail?) blue skies, warm sun, and then the harbour. Ah, the harbour. Just incredible views of the opera house and the harbour bridge. And there are so many beaches you could go to a different one every weekend over the summer months.

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So far we've been to Bondi, Bronte and Manly. Bondi is classic Sydney, as packed as the opening credits of Baywatch, crammed with surfers, tourists, bikinis and boardies, with a healthy dose of preening. Bronte is a classier version just round the corner. And Manly is a half hour ferry ride north of the city but feels miles away. Have a beer in Manly's Wharf pub on a Sunday afternoon and you could be in any London beer garden with the amount of Brits living there.

But of course we're not here to have fun. Both of us have been chasing work, Candice in magazines and Ed in TV. A lot of media companies seem to have got their fingers burnt sponsoring Brits who then decide to go home after a year so it's not as prevalent as before, and if they offer to you, you have top pick up the tab yourself. But there is freelance work available and that could lead elsewhere. Watch this space.

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Plenty else to do though. Candice is already addicted to Neighbours. I think we're 6 months ahead so if anyone wants a plot spoiler let us know (OK, Libby's switched brothers and is no longer going out with the mechanic. Scandalous). And everyone is fitness obsessed so we're looking to conform. Candice has already found a yoga centre and Ed has discovered a 50m outdoor pool. And given up smoking.

This weekend we're going to visit a friend of Candice's who lives on the Hawkesbury river, just an hour north of Sydney - if Ed doesn't have to work on Saturday. They live on an island on the river and have a boat so we're hoping the weather will be good. It's 33C on Friday so should be OK.

Post-surf at Manly
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So life is pretty much like London but with beaches and sun. And of course none of you guys. We've both been surfing a couple of times, such a luxury in a big city. The sea is a pretty fresh 16C. Apart from a couple of surprises - beer is more expensive than London, real shocker that one - it's pretty darn amazing. Which leaves us to ask, where the bloody hell are ya?