restoration

This post was written at the end of last week and reflects my thoughts on the first few days in Sydney (9th – 13th November).

After my chilled out weekend in Wagga, I was ready again for the bright lights of the big city, the improbably diverse Sydney.  Even now – 5 days later – I’m not quite sure what to think of this kaleidoscope of brash Australiana and subtle culture.

My arrival in Sydney is a story that Ian has told, for it was more his drama than mine.  Nevertheless, I eventually arrived at his flat in Mosman around 8pm on Sunday night, with Ian out at work.  I took a walk down to the beach (which wasn’t far) and took in the brisk, yet warm, ocean breeze.  Disappointingly, all the cafes had closed up so I didn’t get the longed-for glass of punchy Shiraz while getting into a new book.

Monday morning arrived and glorious sunshine and a clear blue sky awaited.  Having now rediscovered my appetite, after the stuttering eating in Melbourne last week, we enjoyed a mountainous breakfast at the local café then headed off for my first taste of Sydney.

Taronga Zoo is one of the jewel’s in the city’s crown, a glorious sunblessed hillside of tropical fauna (plus a few out of place penguins).  We were joined by a couple of Ian’s work friends and pottered around for a few hours before finally getting lunch – I was impressed that Ian managed to go a full 4 hours without eating..  As the zoo is on a hillside, and we had started at the top, we got the cable car back up the slope to finish with before I needed to crash.  All that walking in the heat exhausted me, though it did turn out I was a bit of a sucker for this concept, given what the rest of the week held.

On Tuesday, I took the decision to go and be a tourist whore for the day.  There are few more instantly recognisable city features than the Opera House and Harbour Bridge.  So I went to see them, they were cool.  I took some pictures.  That was it really.  Ticked off my list of things to see in the world, yet I felt distinctly under whelmed.  Was it the hundreds of jostling tour parties?  The rampant commercialisation of iconic buildings in a beautiful, historic setting?  I’m just not sure.  I liked it, just wasn’t blown away as I’d expected.

The rest of the day were spent rambling around the Rocks, Darling Harbour and the CBD, before catching the last ferry back to Taronga Zoo, where a bus connected me with Mosman and back to Ian’s place.  Was this all Sydney had to offer?  I didn’t think so, but I needed to find it myself rather than off a tourist map aimed at the quick stopper, the if-its-Tuesday-it-must-be-Belgium crowd.

Sydney’s salvation, in my eyes at least, came on Wednesday.  I am a sucker for Lonely Planet guidebooks and usually try and follow one of the city walks they put in the books.  I did this in Melbourne and, memorably, did so in Florence last year.  There was something odd about the walk in Sydney.  It wasn’t around the sprawling city centre, but a coastal walk from Spit Bridge to Manly.

Intrigued, I set off from Mosman early on Wednesday.  The additional few kilometers on the route, by not getting the bus to Spit Bridge, warmed me up for what was to come.  Don’t get me wrong, this walk was tough – about 12km in blazing sunshine – but so much worth it.  I saw the Sydney of cliff top houses, glorious secluded beaches, stunning views out to the jaws of the heads that guard the harbour and multitudes of mini-flotillas awaiting the leisure crews of the weekend.

This wasn’t the Sydney of bright lights and big attitude.  This was Sydney where you squint your eyes and look past the source of the light.  Real Sydney.  Every corner I turned brought a new vista or curiosity and not a few scenes of the locals enjoying the sunshine and surf.  Arrival in Manly provided me with my first glimpse of the real ocean, with rolling waves crashing on a crowded sandy beach.  The beautiful people were out in force, making me feel ever more the chubby, pale Scot.

I set this thought aside and , after 4 hours of walking, this sweaty pilgrim enjoyed some fine German beer (in case I forget to mention, Ozzie beer is, on the whole, terrible), reflecting on a good days exploring.  I came, I saw, I found.