The Oz Files, #1

Greetings from Sydney! Michael and I left Philadelphia on Saturday evening, arrived in LA later that night, and landed in Sydney around 6 a.m. local time for a total of approximately 24 hours of traveling, including 19 hours of flights. The trip was uneventful, except that for some reason my special-request vegetarian meal hadn’t made it onto the itinerary of the LA-Sydney leg of the flight (um, United Airlines --- WTF?). But we were able to make do with a leftover one that someone else hadn’t claimed. We took the train from the Sydney airport to Kings Cross, which was a bit of a hassle with the luggage but much cheaper than a cab. Plus, we got to take in a glimpse of the local fauna: When we got to our station, around 7 am, a young woman was climbing the escalator stairs ahead of us wearing an impossibly short skirt and no underwear. I suppose this would be a good time to mention that the neighborhood our hotel is in, Darlinghurst, is steps away from the rather seedy, nudie-bar type neighborhood of Kings Cross, so the young lady in question was most likely, in fact, a prostitute. She got into a bit of a dust-up with the transit police over something, which escalated into a screaming match, which resulted in her eviction from the station. Well, good morning Sydney!

It was too early to check into our hotel when we arrived --- so early, in fact, that the doors were chained shut. Luckily, we were able to drop our baggage off at their sister hotel a few doors away (where we’d stayed last time we were in Sydney) and were able to wander around the area a bit. It felt a bit like coming home, actually...we got reacquainted with all the little restaurants around the block, trying to remember which one we’d eaten at when, before heading to bills for breakfast. (Yes, bills. No capitalization, no punctuation. It’s driving me crazy.) It’s owned by Bill Granger, one of the pioneers of what’s known as “Mod Oz” (Modern Australian) cuisine, and it’s tucked into a corner location just a few blocks away from our hotel. The breakfast there is legendary. I had creamy scrambled eggs with thick Ozzie toast and roasted tomatoes, and Michael had their fresh corn cakes with avocado relish (guacamole, really, but we’re a loooooong way from Mexico). We got a table to ourselves, but one of the features of the place is a large communal table in the center, with magazines and newspapers for sharing, so if you’re eating alone you don’t feel quite so isolated. It was pretty empty when we first got there, since most sane people were still asleep, but it had filled in quite a bit by the time we were done with the usual hipster/artsy/fashion crowd. So, you know, we fit right in. :)

After breakfast, our room still wasn’t ready, since as previously mentioned most sane people were still asleep, so we decided to take a walk down to the harbor to stretch our legs and get some fresh air. The weather was absolutely perfect today: bright sun, close to 70 degrees, fresh breeze off the harbor...it doesn’t get any better. You’d never know it’s the dead of winter. We started off by walking from Darlinghurst down to Hyde Park, past a strange array of car/campervan dealerships. Someone at some point must have decided that this area of Sydney needed a huge collection of rental car agencies, campervan show rooms, and luxury car dealerships. So on our way into town from the hotel we got to pass the latest in car-camping technology as well as a Ferrari dealership, a Bentley dealership, and a Maserati dealership. Seriously, how do these palces stay in business? From Hyde Park we headed diagonally north to Mrs. Macquarrie’s Chair, which is an outcropping into the harbor (sorry, harbour) just across from the opera house. Easier said than done, though; I was still wearing my boots and my feet were pretty tired by the time we walked there and back. But it was well worth it, with the beautiful weather and the sun glinting off the water and the fantastic birds: mynas, magpies, rainbow lorikeets, sulfur-crested cockatoos, a kookaburra or two, and gigantic white ibises. Strange fact: Basically the same ecological niche filled in American cities by pigeons is filled here by ibises. Just as dumb, but ten times the size. No photos yet, since we hadn’t gotten the camera out of the luggage at this point, but I’ll post some later.

Back at the hotel, we checked in to what is inexplicably called the “Loft Suite,” which is (you guessed it) neither a loft nor a suite. But it’s quite roomy, with big windows, high ceilings, and plenty of room to unpack. Apparently Mick Jagger once stayed here, but I’m informed that they’ve renovated since then. After unpacking, we got lunch from the little Japanese place across the street, then showered, then a quick nap. Ahh, it’s so nice to sleep lying down. We woke up around 4 pm local time and headed off to the shopping district to catch the last of the afternoon light and buy Michael a new pair of Ozzie boots at R. M. Williams. I also got a pair of pure merino wool socks (Icebreaker!) at one of the myriad sporting goods stores --- they don’t come in size extra-small, so I’m trying out a pair in size small to see how they work, and will pick up some more if I like ‘em. We had dinner in Chinatown at Mother Chu’s Vegetarian Kitchen, which sounds sketchy but which served delicious greens (yay vegetables!) and a tofu sizzling platter (yay protein!). It got a little chilly tonight and we were pretty tired, but to force ourselves to stay up, we walked down to Circular Quay to see the opera house lit up at night. I was tempted to stay and have dessert at one of the many seriously overpriced but very charming restaurants along the quay...well, maybe tomorrow.

And now, since I consider it a rather amazing feat to still be awake at 10:00 at night, I am going to sleep. Odds are good that I’ll wake up at around 4 am, wondering where breakfast is --- well, that’s why the Good Lord invested Lunesta.

Australia, encapsulated: About half of the streets / sites in Sydney are named after various British thingies: Hyde Park, Kings Cross, George St, Elizabeth St, Paddington...it’s freakin’ confusing, frankly. The other half have native names: Barangaroo, Taronga, Woolloomooloo, etc. And that’s the country in a nutshell: half afternoon tea with scones, half beer and barbies and koalas. Love it.