Blustery Bondi and Darling Harbor.

In the Merry Old Land of OZ
Sydney, Day 2
Wednesday, August 27

I woke up early on Wednesday, so as to give myself plenty of time for more exploration of Sydney. Since my flight for Perth was due to leave at 7:20, I knew I only had a limited time, and wanted to make the most of it. I showered, packed up my things, checked out of my hostel, and put my luggage in locker storage for the day. Then I headed to Central Station to begin my adventure.

I decided to head out to Bondi first, and figured, since it had come in such handy on Monday, I’d just buy another day tripper transportation pass. I caught a train to Bondi Junction, and then a bus to Bondi Beach. Bondi is one of the more well-known surf beaches in Sydney, and, as the bus pulled up to let us all out, I could see why.

The strong wind pushing dark clouds across the horizon made for some wicked surfing waves, and there were large groups of people astride surf boards out in the too-blue water. It was another warm day, but when the sun was hidden behind a cloud (which it was increasingly the longer I was there), the wind became slightly chilly.

I strolled along the long, white sand beach, taking off my shoes to feel the fine sand in between my toes. I’d forgotten how much I love that feeling. I watched two small groups of people getting surfing lessons; they were easy to pick out with their green “Let’s Go Surfing” T-shirts and bright pink surf boards. A few of them were doing well, though, and I saw quite a few ride their first waves.

I walked the length of the beach and seriously considered signing up for the 12:30 surf lesson. It would have only coast $70 for a two-hour lesson, but I would have had to return to my hostel first to get my bathing suit, bought a towel somewhere, and made it back to Bondi. I doubted highly that all that would happen in an hour. Plus, it would have meant much less sight-seeing that day. I slightly regretted not doing it at first, but, as the clouds continued to roll in and the breeze became cooler, I decided it was probably for the best.

Since surfing was out of the question, I figured I should at least walk through the waves as they came further inland. I misjudged how fast they were coming in, however, and got a lot more than just my ankles wet. All I can say is this – I could certainly tell it was winter time; the water was freezing!

I found a nice bench in the sun to sit on and let the bottoms of my pants dry off for a bit. I watched the surfers, dog walkers, and tourists for a time, and was perfectly content doing so. After my jeans had become damp as opposed to wet, I headed back for the bus stop, finding some nice people to snap a few photos of me along the way.

I caught a bus back to Bondi Junction, and then a train to Circular Quay once again. I had been slightly worried that the weather would turn sour after seeing all those dark clouds rolling in over Bondi. But back at the wharf, the sun was shining.

I decided to catch a 1:15 ferry out to Darling Harbor, which is the bit of Sydney one inlet over from Circular Quay. I probably could have walked, but, (in the words of McDreamy), “I have a think for ferry boats.”

The ferry ride could have only taken about 10 or 15 minutes, but we made four short stops along the way to pick up and drop off a person here and there. I didn’t really mind, however, because getting to Darling Harbor meant travelling under the Harbor Bridge and getting great views of both it and the Opera House. Once again, I took a lot of photos.

I got dropped off near the Sydney Maritime Museum, where there was a small battle ship and submarine moored in the harbor for visitors to tour. Across the harbor, the Doulos (the ship/book fair Andrea and I explored when it was in Wellington a while back) was tethered at King’s Street Wharf, next to the Sydney Aquarium and Wildlife World. If ever I find myself back in Sydney, I think I’ll go check out the aquarium and Wildlife World, along with the Sydney Zoo.

I crossed the harbor using the Pyrmont Bridge, which is made specifically for use by pedestrians and cyclists, and allows a great view of the whole area. Once I reached Cockle Bay Wharf on the other side, I decided making a loop around Cockle Bay was probably the best way to see everything.

I stopped for lunch at Subway, and got attacked (quite literally – I still have scratches on my hand!) by a seagull as I was finishing my 6-inch by the bay. They are nasty, sneaky birds, and I’ve decided I don’t like them a bit. I found dessert (in the form of a yummy chocolate muffin) within the confines of a Starbucks, and then continued exploring.

Cockle Bay boasts a variety of cafes and restaurants, along with some really cool-looking buildings. There was a little mini train giving tourists a lift from point A to point B. I stopped in the Visitor Center to grab some brochures, and then took a stroll through the Palm Grove and Tumbalong Park, finally reaching the Chinese Gardens.

I had planned to check the Chinese Gardens out, but, upon finding I was going to have to shell out an extra $6 to do it, I decided not to. After all, I’ve already seen the real thing in Shanghai and Beijing – why waste money on what was surely a cheap imitation?

I eventually made my way back to the ferry dock and hopped a jetcat ferry back to Circular Quay. It was by that time nearly 4 p.m., and I had planned to head back to my hostel to collect my things and catch a train to the airport a little at 5. So I decided to go kill some time in the Royal Botanical Gardens.

Located directly across from the Opera House, the gardens turned out to be much prettier and more sprawling than I’d originally realized. I roamed about aimlessly, walking along Farm Cove and taking in all the greenery. I imagine the gardens would be absolutely stunning in the summer months. There weren’t very many flowers blooming in August, but it was still plenty pretty.

I decided to power walk my way around farm cove, where the Fleet Steps and Mrs. Macquarie’s Point and Chair are located. Mrs. Macquarie was the wife of Mr. Macquarie, who was Governor of Sydney for a time back in the early 1800s. Her “chair” was a bit of carved rock in which she’d sit to watch ships coming in and out of the harbor. Today, all three sites are great vantage sights to view both the Opera House and Harbor Bridge.

Due to time issues and the fact that my camera battery had died while I was in the Gardens, I only made it as far out as the Fleet Steps. I climbed them to take in the view, hoping that perhaps my camera would hold out for one last sunset photo. But, of course, it didn’t. Oh well. The walk in itself was pretty. And I suppose there’s always next time.

Slightly before 5 p.m., I found my way out of the Gardens (after getting lost twice first), and made my way back to the train station. I returned to my hostel, got my bag, and headed back to Central Station to catch a train to the airport.

Once I got to the airport, I realized I could have probably easily spent another hour in the city. I checked in for my flight, deposited my bag, went through security, and found my departure gate within the span of 17 minutes. I killed time listening to my iPod and munching some Starbursts.

My flight to Perth, while a bit of a long one, was enjoyable. The skies were unnaturally clear as we soared over Australia, and I loved watching the lights of cities and towns gliding by, thousands of miles beneath us.

We landed slightly ahead of schedule in Perth, but Uncle Jerry was there already, waiting for me near baggage claim. He still looks the same, even after 5 or 6 years. I collected my bag, and we got in the line for a taxi. He had just flown in from Adelaide that night (he makes trips there a couple of times a month for his job), so we had to hire a ride to his house.

Jerry and his family live in Armadale, near Fremantle, about a half hour south of Perth. It was late when we arrived, but Lindy was awake to greet us anyway. We chatted for a short time, and then it was off to bed, me heading for a (very comfy) mattress on the floor of the lounge. Lindy promised that, next time I come visit, there will be a guest room for me in the new house.

The merry old land of OZ.

In the Merry Old Land of OZ
Sydney
Tuesday, August 26

My alarm went off bright and early – at 3 a.m., to be precise. Why I thought that was a good idea, I have no idea. It was sort of necessary, however, seeing as I had to be showered, dressed, and packed up ready to go to catch my cab at 4:30. Since the Airport Flyer bus doesn’t start running until after 5:30 and my flight for Sydney left Wellington at 6:40, I had to hire a cab for the trip. Pity, too, as I paid an extra $17 for it. Oh well; it’s my fault for booking such an early flight.


I’m glad I went for the earlier flight, however. It was smooth sailing through the airport, and my 3-hour international flight was fairly empty. I had two seats by the window all to myself, which made getting comfortable easier. I didn’t sleep much on the flight, however. Instead, I watched the majority of “Prince Caspian,” listened to music, and watched the sun rise. As we descended into Sydney on a clear, sunny morning, I couldn’t help but smile.

Upon landing however, I had some misgivings. For one, I hadn’t caught sight of the infamous Opera House or Harbor Bridge during our descent, and, for two, the city seemed to have a slight haze over it in those early morning hours. Whether it was just a weather haze, or something more sinister like pollution, I couldn’t be sure. I had to remind myself I’ve been living in Wellington for two months – the air is remarkably clear there, and I think I’ve become a bit spoiled because of it.

I made my way out of the airport without a hitch and headed for the trains. I ended up buying a day tripper pass, which not only would get me out of the airport, but would also provide me with unlimited use of all city trains, buses and ferries for the entire day. Not a bad deal for $27.

I hopped a train to Central Station and spent some time wandering around lost, trying to find my hostel at Railway Square. I stopped in a café to ask directions, but the little Asian girl behind the counter had no clue what I was talking about. I tried the bus booking counter next door, however, and had much better luck. My hostel ended up being less than 5 minutes from the station.

I checked in to the YHA Railway Square, was given my bed sheets and a room key, and set off to check out my sleeping quarters for the night. I stayed in the carriage accommodation, which are literally that – old train carriages that have been remodeled into mini dorms, equipped with two sets of bunks each.

I was greeted by Nicola, a middle-aged woman who is in the middle of moving permanently to Sydney, and Chicka (not her real name obviously, but what she told us to call her), a newly-arrived Japanese girl in Sydney for a year-long working holiday. I quickly made up my bed, unpacked a few things, and got myself organized for the day. Having less than 36 hours in Sydney, I didn’t want to waste a minute.

I decided my first stop should be Circular Quay – where the Opera House, bridge, and ferry terminals all are located. It seemed like the most obvious spot from which to start my adventure. I made my way back to Central Station and hopped on a train.

As we pulled into Circular Quay Station, with the Harbor Bridge bursting into view as we exited a tunnel, all my previous misgivings from earlier in the morning were washed away. Sydney was beautiful.

The weather was certainly in my favor. Sunny, clear, and in the 70s, I couldn’t have really asked for much better. Shedding my jacket and donning my sunglasses, I actually felt like I was getting a small taste of the summer that I left behind in Ohio.

I spent a couple of hours exploring Circular Quay. I made my way in the direction of the bridge first, and discovered a lookout spot with a great view of both the bridge and the Opera House, along with The Rocks, the oldest area of Sydney. I then headed back down in the direction of the wharf, where two aboriginal men were performing, shirtless and marked with white paint, for a small audience. One was playing a didgeridoo.

I stopped at the Quay Café for a quick sandwich and coke before heading off again. I decided to return to the lookout near the bridge in order to find someone to take a few photos of me. Afterward, it was on to the Opera House, stopping for some delicious mango gelato along the way.

The Opera House is just as impressive in person as it looks in all the photos. The many sails were dazzling in the early afternoon sunlight, and the water in the harbor appeared an unnatural shade of blue. I took a ton of photos. I could have easily stayed in that area all day, if given the chance.

But I still had lots to see, so I decided to say farewell to Circular Quay for the time being. I hopped a ferry at 1:30, bound for Manly. Manly is about 7 miles outside of Sydney – a suburb, if you will – and it took about half an hour to get there by ferry. The ride was pleasant, with great views of the bridge and Opera House as we chugged along.

Manly itself was well worth the trip. I considered renting a bike for the afternoon to explore, but the woman at the tourist information desk suggested walking, as it was free. That sounded good to me, especially since I wasn’t planning on spending a ton of time there anyway.

I walked down The Corso – Manly’s main strip of shopping that leads to Manly Beach. It had a very quaint, beach-y air to it, and I found myself thoroughly enjoying the atmosphere, despite the slight amount of kitsch involved. I stopped to do some souvenir shopping along the way, picking up some things I think my family will enjoy.
Arriving at Manly beach, I found myself fairly exhausted. Those meager four hours of sleep and the 2-hour time difference were beginning to catch up to me. There was a trail along the beach leading to the next cove over that I would have loved to walk, but my feet just weren’t having it. Instead, I found a nice spot to sit, and simply watched families in the sand and the many wetsuit-clad surfers that dotted the water. This was definitely Australia.

Having had my fill of the beach, I headed back to the Manly Wharf to catch the ferry back into the city. Since it was, by then, evening, I had the pleasure of watching the sun creep towards the horizon on the ride back. It made the view as we returned to Circular Quay even more spectacular than it already was.
I had planned to try and make it out to Bondi on Tuesday, as well, but my sore feet and tired body suggested that I should perhaps make it an early night instead. I caught a train back to my hostel, dropped off my things, and went to the little shopping area around the corner to grab some dinner.

I sat in the lounge for a while, eating and reading my book (I brought Harry along for the trip), and began getting ready for bed near 8 p.m. Lame, I know, but it would have been 10 p.m. NZ time after a very long, busy day. I ended up getting into a conversation that listed toward the awkward with Nicola, however, which went on for nearly an hour. We talked about America, the fact that I’ve been to China, and the racial make-up of various countries. Nicola is one of those “I’m-not-racist-but” people that I really take issue with. As she was prattling on about how white people are going to become extinct, I did my best to remain polite, finally excusing myself to go brush my teeth and get ready for bed. I don’t think she meant to be malicious about it, but she did check to make sure Chicka wasn’t anywhere nearby as she was complaining about Asians, Muslims and blacks.

Luckily, by the time I returned from the bathroom, Chicka had also reappeared, and so I avoided any more awkward conversation. After a bit more Harry and the arrival of another roommate – this one a German girl – I welcomed my pillow and fell asleep.