24 Hours Down Under: Fred Again, Chlamydia-Free Koalas, and a Soiled Gatorade Bottle

It all started with a text…

“Hear me out.”

Right then, I knew—I was f*cked. My meticulously laid plans were about to be tossed out the window. Why not add a little chaos to kick off my adventure?

I was supposed to start with a two-day layover in Singapore. Instead, I found myself rerouting to an entirely different continent. Sure, I had to swallow the cost of my non-refundable $450 flight to Singapore, but switching gears for an Australian detour didn’t hit my wallet as hard as expected. Trading my planned expenses in Singapore for a direct flight from San Francisco to Brisbane using just 37.5K United miles seemed like a fair trade.

Flying Singapore Air and wandering through the Jewel Changi Airport had been high on my list, but those dreams got shelved. I decided to send it to Australia for just 24 hours instead.

Literally, just 24 hours Down Under, and every second—and every penny, including an unexpected $180AUD for excess baggage—felt absolutely worth it.

Landing after that long-haul, 14-hour flight on United’s less-than-luxurious economy seat, I was scooped up by my friends we drove straight to the Australia Zoo – Home of the Crocodile Hunter. We immediately dove into the Aussie experience, driving on the left side of the road with the driver’s seat on the right—a mind-bender. Walking on the left at the zoo? Harder to remember than you’d think.

I didn’t previously look up the zoo or really even know much about its existence but was looking forward to it so much because I grew up watching Steve Irwin. I still remember where I was the exact moment I found out he had died. It felt like losing a childhood hero. We talked the entire ride about how he was universally beloved. And in a strange twist of fate, I too was stung by a stingray once—right in the foot. I like to think I survived what took the legendary Crocodile Hunter from this world (dramatic, I know).

This zoo did not disappoint. It’s like the Ritz Carlton of zoos, where most others feel like a Best Western…at most. The lush, tropical grounds made it feel more like a wildlife oasis. There was this massive enclosure for giraffes, rhinos, and zebras, an island of “free” lemurs, open-air koala enclosures, and free-roaming kangaroos. Touching the butt of a koala (chlamydia-free, we checked) and feeding kangaroos was unreal.

We even got to see the Crocosseum, a 5,500-seat arena for crocodile shows. Though we couldn’t stay for a show, just seeing it was cool, and I hope to come back one day. I’m not sure if they wrestle them or something but I bet whatever happens is probably pretty electric.

Then there was the cassowary, a bird I’d never even heard of before. Apparently, it’s one of the world’s largest and most dangerous birds. With a bright blue neck, an inability to fly, and a prehistoric-looking helmet, it was fascinating and slightly terrifying. I hope I never have to fight one because even I would bet on the cassowary. It’d take me down and I’m not afraid to admit it.

The drive to the Gold Coast for Fred Again‘s DJ set included unexpected challenges, like navigating the opposite side of the road and mastering the art of peeing in a bottle—twice. PSA: That’s NOT Gatorade!!! A comedic highlight, for sure, but also a testament to the lengths we’ll go when nature calls. Ladies, this is a reminder that you can indeed do anything you set your mind to!

As we inched closer to the festival, traffic locked us in, leaving no choice but a dash to the venue. My sprinting skills (or lack thereof) were put to the test, but luckily, we didn’t miss a beat of the show.

However, the crowd had its moments. It felt very ‘wanna-be frat boys riding the rail at a Playboi Carti show’ type of crowd. I’m not sure if “sorry” or “excuse” me is a part of the Australian vocabulary.

Caught in the middle of a ridiculous scuffle, I ended up being choked, and my beloved scarf was sacrificed to the rave gods. It was a stark reminder of why I’m forever a back-of-the-crowd girlie – more space, less drama, and infinitely better vibes.

Fred’s set was the pinnacle, especially when he mixed in Flume’s “Tennis Court” into his “Leave Me Alone” edit —a moment of pure musical bliss that had me dancing like there was no tomorrow. In fact, my Oura ring notified me that I had walked/danced/was forced to run over 28,000 steps during my Australian detour.

Crikey! What a start to this journey. Flying to Australia for just 24 hours might seem mad to some, but for me, it encapsulated everything I love about travel: spontaneity, new experiences, and the joy of the unexpected. Hitting my 29th country and 4th continent was a crash course in embracing the unexpected, finding humor in discomfort, and reveling in the sheer thrill of spontaneous adventures.