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| The usual |
Being eye-wateringly expensive, the only hotel we can afford in Sydney is one without ensuite bathrooms (hence this morning's shenanigans), and with only a simple breakfast of cereal and toast. However, a bowl full of muesli - oats, raisins, seeds and dates - is actually quite a wonderfully different, yet familiar, experience after so many months of rice and noodles.
Albeit budget, our hotel is well positioned for exploring the major sights. We struck out this morning for the Botanic Garden.
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| Captain Cook |
Arriving in Australia well over 200 years before us, Captain Cook and the botanist Joseph Banks landed at what is now known as Botany Bay and declared it a good site for a settlement. Banks must have flipped out over the hitherto unknown flora and fauna, while I suspect Cook was chuffed at stepping foot on 'new land'. In any case, their good judgement must have been impaired as, subsequently, Captain Arthur Philip appraised the area and, finding it lacking adequate depth for large ships to enter and a supply of fresh water, proposed the alternative location that is modern-day Sydney Harbour. The Botanic Garden was founded there in 1816 and the airport stands on the originally proposed site. The gardens will celebrate their bicentenary next year.
The site around the harbour was already inhabited by aboriginal people known as the Cadigal. Initially, they were apparently pleased by the arrival of the settlers, but quickly became displeased as they razed the land in an attempt to grow crops brought from England. I imagine they were livid as their population was marginalised and driven out as the settlement expanded, or fell sick to smallpox carried by the new arrivals. Needless to say that the crops failed initially, as they failed to account for the type of land and the reversed seasons of the southern hemisphere.
While the vegetation accustomed to the habitat and used by the Cadigal to sustain themselves were cleared to make way for corn and brassicas, some indigenous plants must have survived, as the Botanic Garden is replete with examples of unusual flora. Using the 18th-century Linnaean taxonomy, the botanists had to classify these 'new' species and, in some cases, had to create new genera for them, such as Buckinghamia (known as the "ivory curl", celsissima is a native tree to Australia), and Banskia (named after 'guess who').
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| Botanic Gardens |
On our visit, the gardens weren't only full of plant life that was new to us, but also animal life. Giant golden orb spiders had strung their strong webs between the branches - a terrifying sight for the arachnophobically inclined, but otherwise harmless - and long-black-beaked white ibises walked the lawns and nested in the trees. These were common sights for any Syndeysider but arresting to our eyes. Another animal that is no longer to be seen in the gardens are the huge fruit bats, whose population exploded to such numbers that they had to be driven out to a new habitat and can now be glimpsed in Hyde Park.
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| Ibis |
The Botanic Gardens extend as far as the harbour front, which undulates its way from Mrs. Macquarie's Chair (a seat carved directly into the Hawksbury sandstone that makes up the Sydney substrate) round to the Sydney Opera House. The view is magnificent, backed by the harbour bridge.
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| First glimpse of the harbour |
The harbour front and gardens are used extensively by people for outdoor exercise - we passed innumerable runners, as well as those doing keep-fit or pilates - and water fountains are regularly positioned for use by sweaty joggers. With sunshine for well over two-thirds of the year, and green space in which to practise endorphin-boosting activities, it's no wonder the Sydneysiders look so damned happy.
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| Sydneysiders keeping fit |
The Sydney Opera House is such an iconic structure, prominently situated in the bay, that its sight triggered in us sensations ironically much stronger than those we have felt thus far. Its shape - famously comprising segments of a sphere - is instantly recognisable and holds up remarkably well for a building constructed largely in the sixties - a decade that produced many utilitarian and brutalist eyesores. I put the enduring design down to the fact that the architect was Danish, but its roof is still covered in bathroom tiles.
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| Job lot from Wickes |
Based solely on the name, I had previously assumed that the Opera House did exactly that - housed operas. In fact, there are five spaces of varying capacities for performances ranging from ballet to concerts. However, at the time, we didn't see past the foyer, as the regular tour was (to our eyes) extortionate and the more interesting backstage guide would have cost us a total of $330. We joked that it would probably be cheaper to take in show. We had come with no intention of buying tickets for a performance, but enquired and, taking an uncharacteristic plunge, secured two seats for Madama Butterfly for the evening.
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| Circular Quay |
Uplifted by our spontaneous purchase and evening plans, we took the short walk to Circular Quay and boarded the ferry to Manly - a seaside suburb of Sydney apparently named by Capt. Arthur Phillip after the 'manly' behaviour of the aboriginals he found there who, true to his assessment, promptly speared him in the shoulder.
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| Sydney Opera House sails |
While the view from the boat offered iconic views of the 'sail-like' structure of the roof of the Opera House, it was blowy out on the deck of the ferry, so we cut a windswept look as we alighted at the shore. Manly has the appearance of a small English seaside town, complete with wide pedestrianised zone leading from the harbour to the beach, but with better sand and surf.
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| Manly beach |
Sadly there were no indigenous people in evidence - presumably receiving short shrift since impaling Capt. Phillip. There were, however, free water (saving the planet one plastic bottle at a time), free WiFi in public places and, predictably, swathes of people looking pleased with life. I'm starting to wonder whether it's in the water.
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| Only manly men need apply |
I amused myself for quite a while by putting 'manly' in front of everything - Manly ferry, Manly council, Manly tea shop, Manly cakes, Manly flowers, Manly manhole covers. Having exhausted this rich seam of comedy, we took a very manly scenic walk along the shoreline to Shelly beach - the only west-facing beach in eastern Australia - on which, despite the name, not a single shell could be seen.
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| Manly pursuits |
Along the walk we caught sight of an Eastern water dragon reposed on a rock. It seemed unbothered by the presence of so many people and remained completely still, perhaps in the hope that we might all go away.
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| Here be dragon |
Doubling back to Yardarm Taproom, with the sun now well past the proverbial, we discovered another reason for the sunny disposition of the Australians - good beer and happy hour to boot. With a superb view over Manly beach, we found that Manly nachos and beer (in a Manly pint serving) covered all our nutrition requirements. We are discovering quickly that it is equally easy to eat well or eat cheaply in Sydney, but not both. The 77 IPA (7.1%) from Riverside Brewing Company, declared by the barman the "best IPA in Sydney was nice and citrusy, if not as juicy as I was expecting.
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| All the major food groups |
Back in Sydney, we entered the rarefied and unfamiliar environment known only to opera aficionados.
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| Madama Butterfly |
The well-heeled and tourists alike filled the theatre, but there was nevertheless a special feeling in the atmosphere. The performance of Madama Butterfly used a stage encircled by a moat of water, physically isolating CioCio-san during Pinkerton's long absence in the marital home. The performances were excellent, but I am not qualified to critique, so here is a review.
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