Sydney side up

Trip Start Jun 05, 2008
1
15
17
Trip End Jul 10, 2008


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Where I stayed
(Manly hotels)

Flag of Australia  , New South Wales,
Monday, July 7, 2008

This probably isn't the best time of year to visit the southern half of Australia, just as it isn't the best time to visit NZ, but once we crossed the Tasman sea and landed in Sydney, it felt like a world away. The sun was shining (I know, it's not Auckland's fault that the weather was crappy) and it was passably warm, as warm as a heat wave in Scotland. The big difference was the life and vibrancy of the place. The streets seemed full and bustling and there was a life about the place that we just hadn't found in New Zealand (except Queenstown, but that's just backpacker life and doesn't count).
 
Pretty quickly I remembered why I fell in love with this place when I lived here for a time in 2001. The towering skyscrapers and lovely parks, but most of all the harbour, are all wonderful. After an age on an "express" bus from the airport (we basically got a tour of Kings Cross and Potts Point while the bus driver went looking for various hotels and shouted down his radio that he didn't want to go for a drink with someone on the other end) we got off at Circular Quay and got to take in the world famous view across to North Ryde, with the Sydney Harbour bridge on your left and the Opera House on your right Looking back towards Manly on our walk
Looking back towards Manly on our walk
 .
 
Lisa was instantly impressed and I was just glad to be back again. We caught a ferry to Manly, a little beach suburb on the north coast and my home all those years ago, and it was a joy to be sailing out between the bridge and Opera house, into the mess of shipping and ferries that inhabits the waters around Circular Quay, while sitting out in the ferries deck and taking in the sun. What a wonderful way to travel.
 
Manly has everything except reasonably priced decent accommodation. It has a nice snug harbourside beach were the ferry comes in, then the Corso, which is the paved shopping street that links the ferry terminal to a vast sweeping and beautiful stretch of golden sand that faces into the Tasman sea. There's a lovely board walk on this side, with sunbathers, joggers and surfers all enjoying the winter sun.
 
As for the accommodation, as I said, it's not good. Sure if you want to pay, you'll be fine, but we're not in a position to go 5 star. We'd booked into the Manly Beach House backpackers and were not pleased when its owner told us he had no record of the booking, and no rooms. It looked like a tip anyway. So we trudged off again to the Manly Backpackers and nabbed their last room, only to find that room stripped bare and full of paint pots Manly beach
Manly beach
 . Not to worry, we got sent to their self-contained apartments across the street for the same price, result! Except that it seemed to be above one gym and below another. Until 11pm at night we heard heavy workout techno music thumping away through the walls and the occasional thump of a dropped weight. We made the best of it and jazzercised while watching TV or cooking meals.
 
Sydney is a remarkable place. Within its sprawl there's just so much interesting things to see. The harbour and harbour life dominates though, as a number of tiny inlets and bays shoot off from the main harbour and create these little sheltered seaside communities. But Sydney's abundance of natural wildlife and wild spaces is what impressed me. In the space of one walk, we passed a lounging fur seal on a small wharf, listened to Kookaburra's (big white and brown birds) chuckling their distinctive call, watched flammin' galahs and parakeets fly over head, went looking for a little penguin colony (they were all out, fishing apparently) and then climbed up to Manly heads and watched giant humpbacked whales breaching a couple of hundred metres offshore, magic!
 
I forced Lisa to take a wander down my memory lane and we headed over to my old haunt Harbord. Harbord is a small suburb just north of Manly with it's own little beach called Freshwater, were I happily surfed after a days work all those years ago. Well, it hasn't changed a bit. Nothing, as far as I could see, is the slightest bit different. Everything just looked a little smaller. My old house is still there. And it still looks like a sh*thole.
 
Sydney is gearing up for a visit from His Holiness, Mr The house and the bridge
The house and the bridge
 . Pope, as he's due to lead World Youth Week in Sydney soon. His advance troops, those vacant-eyed happy-clappy young Christian groups, were evident everywhere (sorry for those of you of a very Christian persuasion, but you have to admit there's something really creepy about those young Christian groups), mainly blocking up the ferries, invading the beaches or getting in my photo shots with their stupid flags and hats.
 
So, we decided to bask in the Lord's natural creations and took off on an all day hike from Manly through the bush to The Spit (it's a bridge across a little harbour inlet). It was a beautiful walk on a beautiful day, wandering along the shoreline, clambering over rocks and admiring the boats in the harbours. Then up through some bush were you'd never guess you were in the middle of the city. Occasionally you'd come onto a rocky promontory and get the most spectacular view across the harbour. We topped the day off with a wonderful curry across from our apartment, Lisa lit into a bottle of wine like someone who'd never tasted the stuff before and I sampled Indian beer in preparation for our potential travels ahead. Then back to the apartment to jazzercise.
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