Australia - Sydney

For the next week I had a travelling companion. I met RJ in Sydney just as St. Patty’s day was starting to get into full swing. We dropped our stuff in our room and immediately went for a beer. RJ had just gotten in after nearly 40 hours of travel, so we both rested after lunch in preparation for a big night of partying: A night that never really came. We were staying in Kings Cross, a well-known party district in Sydney. However what we didn’t realize was that it was almost all clubs. Everyone was dressed to the nines while we were in tshirts, shorts and flip-flops. We were expecting drunken bar tomfoolery like in the States. Instead we got every other Saturday night. So we called it an early one.

The next day we took an early stroll through the Botanical Gardens and along the harbor, finally stopping at the Opera house and Harbour bridge. The previous day an guy from our hostel had brushed off the Opera house as ugly from up close and not worth your time. Both RJ and I agreed that his opinion sucked. While it’s impressive from a distance, especially with the bridge in the background, the Opera house is even more amazing from up close. The arcs are covered with hundreds of thousands of white ceramic tiles and the contours of the building are so unique that it’s hard not to be impressed.

What stuck most with me is its ability to stand the test of time. It was designed in the 1950’s, built in the 1960’s, and completed in the 1970’s. Looking back on much of the architecture of those time periods, there are a lot of works that look extremely outdated. Contrary to this, the Opera house is as progressive now as it was when it was built.

The rest of the day RJ and I hung out with Lina and Madita, the girls I’d met in Auckland. We watched the St. Patty’s day parade. Oddly enough it was the day after St. Patty’s day (on a Sunday no less). Later we went to Manly beach on the north side of Sydney and watched the surfers. It was a pretty relaxing day.

The next day wasn’t so relaxing. We began by asking the girl at the front desk to call the Harbour bridge climb to put us down for late morning. She responded by telling us “it’s probably fully booked. Today is the 80^th birthday of its completion.” I asked her to call anyways. Sure enough, they had some spots open. By sheer coincidence, we got to climb the bridge on a pretty special day. The climb began by getting in these special suits and harnesses that you attach to a cable running the span of the bridge. You know, so no one falls off. Unfortunately you’re not allowed to bring your camera. It sucks you can’t take your own pictures; the views up there are absolutely stunning. But it makes sense. I can’t imagine how much damage you could cause if you dropped it on the bridge.

By the time we finished, RJ and I were starving. Our guide had recommended a restaurant just down the street that served both kangaroo and crocodile pizzas. Both were very good. The kangaroo was very gamey, not unlike venison, and the croc was slightly chewier, and saltier, version of chicken. Yes, sometimes “it tastes like chicken” is the best way to describe something.

We went back to the hostel to change into something more presentable because we were going to an opera. Neither of us had ever seen one live before, or at least that we could remember, but we couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see one in such a legendary building. It was a great decision because both of us were blown away.

The performance was of Turandot, an Italian Opera of which we’d never heard. We went there thinking: if we don’t like it, we can always leave at one of the intermissions. But by the end of the first act, we knew we were staying for the entire thing. I was a powerful love story with a stunning array of costumes and stage design with some very intense singing.

Our third day took us well outside of Sydney to the Blue Mountains. We took a two-hour train ride to the small town of Katoomba, which put us on the edge of the mountain range. We walked about a mile and a half towards the edge of town and there we were on the edge of a giant plateau overlooking the range. The area was covered with dense greenery as far as the eye could see. The range gets its name from a distinct blue haze that can be seen at a distance rising up from the valley. RJ and I hiked along some paths around the edge of the canyon and took in the foliage around us. Some recent rainfall gave the whole area a lush feel and the mud kept away swarms of other tourists. It was a real peaceful way to spend an afternoon.

Our last day in Sydney involved an early morning surf lesson and a late afternoon flight. Bondai beach is well known to surfers around the world. However it doesn’t have quite the best of reputations. It has become highly touristy and, to many Australians, not worth the trouble. But, we’re tourists, so what the hell.

You’d think that being from California would mean that at one point in my life I’d picked up a surfboard. Wrong. That waters too damn cold. So the first time RJ or I ever took a board into the water was in Australia. Having boogie boarded when I was younger, I already had the feel for catching a wave. However the problems started when I was supposed to stand up. I got halfway up a few times but couldn’t keep my balance and would almost immediately fall off. I don’t think RJ fared much better. Although after the initial group briefing, we were more or less on our own. I definitely had fun and could see myself taking it up back home. Although braving that water still seems unappealing.