Creepy Crawlers

This is an ode/ warning to all of you wanting to travel to Sydney over the summer season. I am here as an an ambassador of RAID, and unfortunate real life character of Joe's apartment: Cockroaches are the true owners of this land. I have already detailed the amazing number of species, natural occurrences that can take your life away here in Australia, but one fact they don't mention is the cockroaches. I am not suggesting that I have lived in decadence, so some of the blame to why they appeared at my flat is not entirely Sydney's fault. However, it is a known fact that they rule the cracks, spaces and floors of your flat, especially living in Bondi. Now, please return to reading this, I realize you probably recoiled in disgust, just wanted you to know. They all come out at night, in your home, on the streets, and at the bar parked in the stool next to you downing a whiskey on the rocks (hey if these guys are supposedly going to survive a nuclear holocaust, this is what I envision them drinking.) Cockroaches, in most cases, and many times pertaining to my old flat, represent filth, grime and general apathy towards basic tenants of hygiene and cleanliness. But, Sydney has allowed me to justify not spending money on a cleaner. No matter how clean, how sparkly your place is they will always, I repeat, always be there. Fact of life here in the crazy place.
My other warning to you all, is next to that bikini or pair of board shorts, you might want to place a beekeeper suit. This is the only apparel that will safegaurd you from thr onslaught of the flies. Flies in Sydney do not just pester and casually annoy you at the beach or in the streets of Downtown Sydney (CBD), they make it their jihad, crusade, manifest destiny to enter every orifice on your head. Back at home a simple, lugubrious swat would send a fly packing its bags for the nearest available pile of dog present. Here, the flies only show more determination to become part of your left eye, become a new winged ear plug, or a delightful mid afternoon snack. I mean I have seen people walking around swatting at least three flies while another five more hitching a ride (got the title of the blog in, score one for me) on the person's back like an aircraft carrier with parked kamikaze planes waiting for the air raid siren.
After two years I can deal with this. I have devised a technique, almost a wary truce with the flies: I am now USS Hitch, with flies ready to invade and inflict damage on anyone in my path. With the cochroaches, I have resigned myself as a tributary state. My payment consisting of only flushing three down the toilet a week. I am delighted by this new position in life. I'll tell you one thing, at least it is not loose kangaroos with a penchant for crotch kicking. Although with this country, you better pack a cup.