Aussie Sea Shanties: The Ultimate Collection You NEED to Hear!
Okay, buckle up, mateys, because we're about to dive headfirst into a review of Aussie Sea Shanties: The Ultimate Collection You NEED to Hear! … but with a twist. Forget your typical sterile hotel review; we're going nautical, and we're going honest. And yes, that means we're gonna ramble a bit!
First Impressions: Land Ahoy! (and a bit of a stumble)
Right, so the Aussie Sea Shanties collection. The name alone, it's enough to make you grab a tankard of grog, is it not? I expected salty dogs, raucous choruses, and the smell of the sea… or at least a nice lobby soundtrack. Look, it's a hotel, not a pirate ship. Let's get the accessibility stuff cleared:
- Accessibility: We're talking about the sound system here, and I found the sound well-suited for all ages and walks of life. So that part is a huge YES!
- Wheelchair Access: Can anyone go hear this album? Yes 100%
- Internet Access: Gotta have it, right? Looked like the whole place was wired up and ready for the day.
The Siren Song of Amenities: Where the Sea Meets the Spa (and the Buffet!)
Okay, here's where things get interesting. Let's talk about what they promise.
- The "Spa" Experience (sort of): Right, so they had a sauna. Which, let's be honest, after a long voyage of listening, is exactly what a weary pirate needs.
- Fitness Center: Did I use it? (Puts on slightly embarrassed face) Let's just say I looked at it through the window.
- The Pool with a View: Now that's what I'm talking about. Imagine, sun setting, a cool drink, and the sounds of the sea… well, okay, Aussie Sea Shanties… playing. Actually, the view was probably the best part of the experience and it's got the music in there for ya too!
- Food Glorious Food (and Drink!): The buffet! Oh, the buffet! (Deep sigh). We'll get to the food in a bit. I was pretty happy with the variety, including the Asian delicacies. Drinks were superb, and the staff were pretty much perfect!
This place has the amenities to give you the break of your life - whether it's the fitness center or the amazing food, you'll be set for a day of rest!
The Soundtrack: Ahoy, Mateys! (and a few off-key notes…)
Okay, the heart of the matter: Aussie Sea Shanties: The Ultimate Collection You NEED to Hear!
- Cleanliness & Safety: All that stuff about keeping you safe felt like they took it seriously. Hand sanitizer everywhere. Staff wearing masks without complaint. You know, the basics.
- Dining, Drinking, and Snacking: I'm a simple man. I need coffee. And I need it now. Coffee shop was decent and the coffee stayed hot all day!
- Services and Conveniences: Elevators, concierge, all that jazz. The real convenience? The ability to get a damn taxi at 3 AM. A lifesaver, it was.
- For the Kids: I don't have kids, but seemed child-friendly.
Inside the Room: My Pirate's Nest
- The Bed: Ah, sweet, sweet sleep. The bed, was actually really great, the extra long bed was perfect!
- Bathroom: Separate shower & tub. This is just luxury!
- Desk: I might have "worked" a little.
- View: Mine was pretty decent, and it wasn't an eyesore.
- Other Stuff: Free Wi-Fi, coffee maker, blah blah blah. Standard stuff.
Getting Around : Where to?
- Car Park: Available and free.
- Airport transfer: Yes, they had that, but I used a taxi.
- Bicycle parking: Not that I saw, this isn't a hostel!!
Here's the Truth*
So, the final verdict on the actual music. It's a mixed bag, honestly. Some shanties are absolute gold, with harmonies that'll make you want to hoist the mainsail and sail off into the sunset. Others… well, let's just say they're a bit enthusiastic in their delivery. I might have skipped a few. But hey, that’s the beauty of a proper shanty collection, isn't it? You get the hearty, the humorous, and the slightly… off-key.
And that’s just like this hotel – with some quirks, it's a good base for a voyage.
A Compelling Offer (Ahoy, Book Now!)
Hear Ye, Hear Ye, Seasalt and Siren Fans!
Are you searching for a getaway to escape from the everyday hustle? Do you dream of the open ocean, or maybe just a decent meal? Well, pack your bag, and drop your anchor here. This is more than a hotel. It's an experience of everything you dreamt of!
- Book now and receive:
- A complimentary bottle of the local brew on arrival on arrival!
- A voucher for a free appetizer at the poolside bar (get your drink on)!
- And most importantly - the chance to experience the spirit of Aussie tradition, with the sounds of the sea!
Here's why you SHOULDN'T wait:
- Unbeatable Atmosphere: Close your eyes, and you're practically there.
- Top-Notch Amenities: Everything you need to unwind and recharge.
- Unforgettable Memories: Because, let's be honest, who doesn't want to sing along to a sea shanty?
**Book now, before the tide comes in! **
Unveiling Amorsolo Mansion: Philippines' Hidden Hotel Gem!
Alright, buckle yer swash, you landlubbers! Ye think ye can handle a trip Down Under? Sea Shanties Australia, it's called! Aint no polished itinerary here, just a salty old dog's ramblin' thoughts on how to survive this fair dinkum adventure. Here's how this old sea dog would do it… if I could still afford the bloody trip, that is.
Sea Shanties Australia: A Right Mess of a Trip
(Disclaimer: Be warned, this ain't a "smooth sailing" type itinerary. Expect choppy waters and the occasional kraken attack… metaphorically speaking, of course, unless… well, let's not think about that.)
Phase 1: Sydney, Gotta See the Harbour, Even if it's Raining (and it bloody well probably will be)
Day 1: Arrival, Jet Lag, and a G'Day that Could Kill Ya.
- (0600 hours): Land at Sydney Airport. Bleary-eyed, grumpy, and smelling faintly of aeroplane food. Immediately, I'm gonna want a strong coffee. The type that can raise the dead. First stop, the hotel (if I can find it through this fog of tiredness). Don't even bother trying to look elegant after a 24-hour flight. Embrace the bed head and baggy eyes, ye scallywags.
- (1000 hours): Attempt to check into the hotel, pray every room has a view. Hopefully, the view gives me a damn good reason to be wide awake because its like my second home.
- (1200 hours): Wander the Royal Botanic Garden. Pretend like I know anything about flora and fauna. Actually, I’ll probably just get lost and grumpy – those blasted gardens always get me.
- (1400 hours): Hit up the Harbour Bridge; climb the bloody thing, if I'm brave. Or just sit at the base, looking up and muttering about how high it is. Bloody steep walk though. You wouldn't think so, seeing as it's a bridge.
- (1800 hours): Dinner at the Opera Bar. Gawk at the Opera House. Feel inadequate. Order a beer. Curse the price of everything. If there's a live band playing sea shanties, I'll be in heaven. If not, I'll become the live band. (Just kidding… mostly).
- (2100 hours): Collapse into bed. Jet lag is a cruel mistress. Think of the next day.
Day 2: Bondi Beach and a Sea of Sunscreen (and Possibly, My Pants!)
- (0900 hours): Drag myself to Bondi Beach (assuming I wake up). Sunscreen on. Lots of sunscreen. Remember that sunburn from '88? Still stings.
- (1000 hours): Wander along the sand. Avoid the crowds. Look for a quiet spot, preferably with a clear view of the ocean. Get a tan I can't feel!
- (1200 hours): A swim in the surf. Try to look graceful. Fail miserably. Get sand everywhere.
- (1400 hours): Lunch at a casual cafe. Avoid the fancy seafood - I've had too much travel. Order a burger. Complain about the price.
- (1600 hours): Visit a surf shop. Try on a wetsuit. Laugh at how silly I look.
- (1800 hours): Dinner in The Rocks. Explore the historic pubs. Drink more beer. Sing sea shanties (whether anyone wants to hear them or not). This is where the real fun begins.
- (2200 hours): Bed again! Another late night out, another time zone to conquer.
Day 3: Harbour Cruise and a Farewell, For Now
- (0900 hours): Harbour cruise! So, I’m going to see the harbour the real way–by boat! (Even though, the last cruise, I was sick for the entire thing).
- (1200 hours): Lunch on-board. Admire the view (and try not to spill my lunch).
- (1400 hours): Visit the Sydney Opera House (inside this time). Admire the architecture. Pretend to understand opera (I won't).
- (1600 hours): Last-minute souvenir hunting. Try to haggle (fail). Buy something totally impractical.
- (1800 hours): Farewell dinner. Somewhere with good food and even better views. Order the most expensive thing on the menu. You only live once. Or at least, that's what I'm telling myself.
- (2100 hours): Pack, then it's off to the next place in the bloody land!
Phase 2: Melbourne, Where the Coffee is Stronger Than My Willpower
Day 4: Flight and Fitzroy Freakout
- (0700 hours): Early flight to Melbourne. (Curse whoever thought this was a good idea. I'm not a morning person!).
- (1000 hours): Arrive in Melbourne. Check into a hotel. Collapse onto bed. Sleep.
- (1400 hours): Explore Fitzroy. Get lost in the laneways. Find a quirky cafe. Drink the strongest coffee they have.
- (1600 hours): Stroll through the street art. Take a million photos. Pretend to be arty.
- (1800 hours): Dinner at a cool restaurant. Try something different. Regret it.
- (2100 hours): Find a bar with live music. Sing even louder than the last time.
Day 5: The Great Ocean Road: A Journey That Might Kill Ya
- (0600 hours): Rent a car (if I'm feeling brave – Melbourne traffic is the stuff of nightmares). Drive, slowly, along the Great Ocean Road. Gasp at the views. Get motion sickness. Take photos.
- (1000 hours): Stop at the Twelve Apostles. Marvel at the rock formations. Try not to fall off the cliff.
- (1200 hours): Lunch at a seaside town. Eat fish and chips. Complain about the seagulls.
- (1400 hours): More driving. More views. More wonder.
- (1600 hours): Stop at another lookout. Take more photos. Swear I’m going to move here.
- (1800 hours): Dinner at a pub along the way. Drink more beer. Sing even louder than the time before that.
- (2100 hours): Sleep in the car! (If I don’t manage to find a hotel, after all that road, I’ll have to find a place to sleep).
Day 6: Coffee, Culture, and a Bloody Pub Crawl
- (0900 hours): Melbourne's coffee culture. Explore it. Find a cafe that serves real coffee. Sip it slowly. Savour it. Repeat.
- (1100 hours): Visit Federation Square. Admire the architecture. Get confused.
- (1300 hours): Explore a museum. Pretend to be cultured. Get bored.
- (1500 hours): Hidden laneway bars. Discover secret, speakeasy-style establishments.
- (1700 hours): St Kilda Beach. Stroll, maybe. Maybe.
- (1900 hours): Pub crawl! (This is the important part. Find a good pub. Drink a lot of beer. Sing even louder. Again.).
- (2300 hours): Collapse into bed. Or possibly, the gutter. Whatever happens, it's been a good time.
Phase 3: The Outback, if I can Survive It
- Day 7: Flight to Ayers Rock (Uluru) and Awe!
- (0800 hours): Another early flight (I'm getting used to this! No, wait -- I'm not.) Flight to Ayers Rock, it is!
- (1200 hours): Arrive at Ayers Rock Airport. Check into hotel.
- (1400 hours): Visit Uluru – the big red rock. Look at it. Marvel at it. Consider climbing it… then remember I'm not 20 anymore.
- (1600 hours): Sunset at Uluru. Absolutely stunning. Worth the trip alone. Take photos. Try to capture the magic. Fail. Get sunburned.
- (1900 hours): Dinner. Eat something. Probably something with kangaroo.
- (2100 hours): Stargazing. Look for the Southern Cross. Get
Aussie Sea Shanties: The Ultimate Collection You NEED to Hear! (…Maybe) – A FAQ… Sort Of.
Okay, First Things First: What *are* these "Aussie Sea Shanties" things anyway? Are we talking pirates?
Alright, so "Sea Shanties." Think… old boats. Really old boats. Like, think wooden planks creaking and groaning in the salty air. Think, *hmmmm*, probably not pirates. More like… *work songs*. Songs sung by sailors, traditionally, to get the job done. Hauling ropes, raising sails, generally not dying at sea before you’re 25. And "Aussie" means… guess what? They're Australian versions! Though, I gotta be honest, sometimes the line between "Australian" and "British" is a bit blurry when you're talking about sea shanties. They all kinda blend together after a while. You’ll hear a lot of talk of the ocean, and maybe the odd mention of rum. Which, naturally, brings up…
Does this "collection" actually *collect* anything good? Is it just a bunch of blokes yelling tunelessly? I HATE that.
Look, I’ll be brutally honest. My expectations were… low. I've heard some *atrocious* sea shanties in my time. Seriously, ear-bleed inducing. The good ones are generally accompanied by at least *some* form of instrumental accompaniment, maybe a guitar. Maybe. This particular *collection*… *sigh*. Okay, it's not *all* tuneless yelling, but… there's definitely some… rawness. Let’s just say the vocal performances vary wildly. Some are bloody brilliant! Rich, full voices, harmonies that give me goosebumps. Others… well, let's just say you can *feel* the beer and the lack of pitch correction. There's one track with a screeching fiddle that almost made me throw my phone across the room. I almost deleted it. I'm not going to lie. But... then there's this other one. Ohh, *that* one...
Okay, spill. What's the "one" that saved this whole shebang? (And did you *actually* throw your phone?)
Good question! The phone is fine, by the way. Just… *nearly* flew. The standout track? It’s called "Leave Her, Johnny." Honestly, the first time I heard it… I almost burst into tears. I know, I know, it sounds ridiculous.
But the guy's voice… it's *raw*. It’s like, you can hear the years of sea spray and hard labor etched into his vocal cords. And the harmonies! Bloody *heavenly*. It's a proper tearjerker, that one. Especially when you think about the lives those chaps would have lived, away from their loved ones. It's even more heartbreaking that the collection's track listing seems to suggest they probably won't make it to the next shore.
I’ve played it about a dozen times now. I always skip the fiddle-screeching track beforehand, though. Sorry, not sorry.
Is it historically accurate? Does it actually *represent* the Australian seafaring experience? I’m a stickler for that sort of thing.
Alright, History Nerd McSticklerson. *Deep breath*. Okay. Probably not. Largely. You know how history is, right? Bits and pieces get jumbled up, stories get embellished, and accents... well, accents change. Some shanties predate Australia as a unified country! It *suggests* the Australian seafaring experience, but it’s more like *inspired* by the Australian seafaring experience. The truth is, some of these songs were probably written by some bloke on a boat, and they sure as hell didn't have the internet to fact-check them. Mostly. But who cares?
The point is the *feeling*. The sweat, the desperation, the loneliness. That, they capture perfectly.
Okay, okay, you’ve almost convinced me. Is there anything *specifically* that makes this collection "Aussie"?
Good question! Aside from the fact the *collection* *claims* to be? You'll hear references to Australian place names here and there. Some, like, *very* loose Australian accents (which, let's be honest, are probably more approximations of colonial era than current Aussie ones). More importantly, you'll hear the *spirit* of the place. The toughness. The humor, even in the face of adversity. The *slightly* irreverent attitude towards authority. If you've ever met an Aussie, you'll understand. They're a tough lot, but they'll laugh, at themselves, the world, and the poor bloody swell trying to get in on the act.
What's the best way to listen to this, anyway? Drunk? Sober? In the bath?
Look, I am not a life coach, and I'm *definitely* not a medical professional. But my *personal* recommendation? A few choices: after a long day of work, after a long, tiring day of work. Either drunk or sober. Maybe a little bit tipsy. In the bath? Risky business with water and electronics, but hey, you do you. The best *way* to listen is with an open mind (and possibly a beverage). Prepared to laugh, maybe cry. And definitely skip the fiddle screamer. Seriously. You've been warned.
Any final thoughts? Anything I should know before diving in?
Just go for it, mate. Embrace the messiness. The imperfections. The… well, the sea shanty-ness of it all. It's an experience. It's not going to win any Grammy's. But you might, just might, find yourself strangely moved. And if you don’t love it? Well, at least you'll have learned a new appreciation for pitch correction software. Or, you'll curse my name when the screaming fiddle starts... No regrets!
