Crossing the Tasman

We were up at a reasonable hour this morning for a flight out of Sydney to Auckland. From the airport's Ibis Budget hotel it was a quick shuttle ride to the terminal, where we checked in and made our way to the Qantas lounge.

Lounge brekky

Breakfast was laid on and we availed ourselves of the spread of muesli, yoghurt, cooked items, pastries, and (don't judge me) a glass of bubbly each. We were in the mood to celebrate the next leg of our journey: six weeks touring the North and South Islands of New Zealand.

The flight to Auckland was barely 3 hours and took us over the Tasman Sea with magnificent views of Northland, which we intend to explore in the coming few days.

Rangitoto and Motutapu islands off the coast of Auckland

Lunch on board was a tasty aubergine curry, with dal and rice. The in-flight vegetarian option is often some form of Indian food. As well as some Anzac bicuits, the stewards regularly popped to ply us with further treats: tea, coffee, wine, ice cream, chocolates. The service was excellent.

Hooray! Ice cream

Landing in Auckland, we took the express bus to the centre and checked into our less-than-salubrious accommodation: the Nomads Fat Camel backpackers hostel. With a bar downstairs and an advertised 'bar crawl' boasting in excess of 100 participants each night, it was the very image of backpacker hostelling that we try to avoid. Nevertheless, until we pick up our camper van, cheap accommodation options are limited.

Auckland's ferry terminal

We took ourselves out for walk along the harbour 'viaduct' in the fading evening sunlight. The Queen Victoria cruise ship was in and the waterfront bars and eateries were full of the Thursday evening clientele.

Harbour view from the viaduct

Rather at my instigation, we repaired to a bar slightly removed from the waterfront hubbub, but which would serve us a wider selection of craft beer.

Sky Tower

Presently, we arrived at Brothers Beer, a comfy little nook in amongst a number of other artisanal outlets selling boutique bread and burgers on Nelson Street. Four kettles occupy the side wall, while much of the space is given over to a comfortable set of retro-upholstered sofas and chairs, which complement the range of vintage toys, from Tracy Island to 50s-style robots. Several fridges and shelves groan under the weight of home-grown and imported beers from Epic, Turatara, Garage Project, and 8 Wired, to Rogue, Moon Dog and Left Coast.

Garage Project's utilitarian packaging

Alongside the bottles is a twenty-strong tap selection, from which we pulled first 8 Wired's Wireless sour IPA and Haywired wheat beer, both setting the bar for NZ brewing very high. A tasting board of five brews accompanied our aubergine and pepper pizza, with representation from Bohemian, Gigantic, and Left Coast. Common consensus ruled that the California-brewed 11% imperial red ale was the top of this selection, but not one for everyday sipping.

Farewell Melbourne

After a couple of false starts, where we found the restaurant closed at breakfast time - the lack of consistency in opening hours only adds to its SE Asian credentials - we finally got back to Fina vegetarian Vietnamese café this morning. In the friendly and comfortable environment, K ordered the bún hue that I had last time, while I got outside of an enormous bowl of vermicelli rice noodles and spring rolls that is bún chả giò chay.

World's finest cuisine

Satisfied at having made a return trip to our favourite Melbourne eatery before leaving, we spent the rest of the day we had before a short internal flight to Sydney investigating the corners of the city we had not yet visited.

South of the river is home to many arts and performance venues. With limited time, we proceeded straight to the Australian Centre for Contemporary Art (ACCA).

It's art, Jim

Albeit a small venue, it manages to make the most of its size through clever installations. The works transcend physical installations and start to play with space as a concept. For instance, one piece comprised a modified wall of the gallery itself (much like Salcedo's crack through the Tate's Turbine Hall) and reveals the history of the arts centre like the rings of a tree. Other works transform themselves over time, such as a tub of rotting food.

Erstwhile food

Another installation reflects both the visitors, the gallery, and the other artworks back at the viewer through a strategically placed camera and projector. A shrug of the shoulders given by an 'invigilator' (docent) as part of an interaction with a member of the public are part of another 'invisible' installation, while yet another piece goes beyond the confines of the gallery itself, and uses pocket works that are 'displayed' to people on travels outside of the building - the tales of which will be brought back to the gallery in the fullness of time.

Visiting the toilet before departing the ACCA, I found myself still in the mindset of questioning and appreciating everything as art. The design challenges the concept of a traditional toilet and there was a brief moment when I thought there were no actual functioning facilities and I would be asked to imagine the act of relieving myself and seek a genuine WC elsewhere.

Farewell Melbourne 

After a farewell drink of hot chocolate and salted caramel at Ganache Chocolate, we picked up our bags and made our way by tram to Southern Cross station, where the Skybus was waiting to take us to Melbourne airport at Tullamarine.

Our short internal flight to Sydney was operated by Jetstar - the Easyjet of Australia. Even the orange livery is the same as the UK budget airline, as though this colour were somehow indicative of low cost and no frills.

Our farewell meal came courtesy of the airport departure hall cafeteria. We both chose hoi sin stir-fried tofu with rice, which I washed down with a pint of Fat Yak.

Yak & Tofu

Sadly, with an early flight tomorrow morning, we had no time to explore again the city, so we settled down to our overnight accommodation at Sydney airport's Ibis Budget hotel.

Bondi to the Blue Mountains

Sydney's weather has been wall-to-wall sunshine since our arrival, giving us the impression that everyone lives a perpetual outdoor, 'Home and Away'-style, beach-based existence. The drizzly grey sky that greeted us this morning, then, was somewhat of a shock. Still, we decided to pay a quick visit to the infamous Bondi beach before leaving the city.

Undeterred by the poor weather, the Sydneysiders were still engaged in outdoor pursuits on the beach front, backed by the powerful waves that make the area such a draw for surfers.

Bondi beach

We took a far more leisurely approach of poached eggs on toast at the pavilion café, followed by a quick post-prandial stroll along the promenade. Bathers in the shark-proof enclosures were buffeted by the pounding sea that leapt the small protective walls, turning it into a wave pool, and I wondered just how much protection it offered if a passing shark managed to surf in on the same swell.

Shark-proof pool

The sunny weather couldn't be held at bay for long and by the time we had finished our walk, the sky was blue and the temperature soaring. Sadly our time in Sydney was at an end. Our Canberra-based friend offered to drive us to the iconic Blue Mountains on the way back to the nation's capital.

Only an hour or so out of Sydney, the Blue Mountains (so-called for their distant hazy appearance), for part of the Great Dividing Range. We stopped at Katoomba for views out over the vast national park, of Mount Solitary and the "Three Sisters".

Three Sisters

The vista was breathtaking - a natural beauty that is taken advantage of by 'Scenic World', where a cable car drops visitors down onto the forest floor, a near-vertical railway hauls them back up the side of the hill, and a skyway crosses Katoomba falls.

In amongst the awe-inspiring sights, which drew our gaze back repeatedly to the valley presided over by the Three Sisters, we managed to fit in some lunch. Craving green things, we both selected a salad of baby beet, spinach, walnuts, and goats cheese, which was pleasingly and simply dressed with balsamic vinegar.

Healthy lunch

The Blue Mountains were a slight detour from our journey into the "heart of the nation", so we wound our way back east to pick up the Hume Highway. This involved passing from New South Wales into the Australian Capital Territory, created solely as home to Canberra. The trip took roughly four hours on mostly clear, well-surfaced roads, passing eery sight of a giant dry Lake George - a reminder of the drought that Australia is suffering.

In Canberra, our friend introduced us to his house - ensconced in the suburban bliss of Woden. Here, we dined heartily around the family table on mushroom tart with a delicious potato and beetroot salad, with sorrel, rocket, and a maple syrup-based dressing. We enjoyed the familiar pleasure of chatting with friends, while we quaffed generous amounts of good Australian red wine.

Life on the Rocks

Arriving in what is now known as Australia, Cook, Phillip, and other vanguards of the British colonists declared it terra nullius - 'land belonging to no-one' - and claimed it under the international law of the same name. Disregarding the indigenous population, the British set up penal colonies on the new land, bringing convicts and free settlers, who settled initially in Sydney. In actual fact, Europeans had arrived on the shores of terra australis long before Cook's landing in 1788 - most notably the Dutch exploration of the western coast as early as 1606.

Queen Victoria and her building

One of the first areas to be settled by the British in modern-day Sydney is 'The Rocks', now occupying a prime piece of real estate on the opposite side of Circular Quay facing the Opera House. The people there literally lived 'on the rocks', as the buildings were constructed from the Hawksbury sandstone on which they still stand.

The area quickly descended into a slum, filled with boozing sailors and dockworkers, gambling, prostitution and general vice. A movement to promote temperance (the moderate cousin of outright prohibition) was started and succeeded in decreasing the saturation of pubs in the area, but largely failed to curb the consumption of alcohol in the long term. Many of the buildings were demolished following the outbreak of the bubonic plague that was visited upon the area in the early 20th century and, shortly thereafter, as collateral damage in the construction of the harbour bridge.

We discovered all this and more at the suitably named Rocks Discovery Centre before seguing (not Segwaying) into a walk over Sydney Harbour Bridge. The bridge, built between 1923 and 1932, is truly a multi-modal connection between Millers Point and Milsons Point, offering dedicated lanes for cyclists, pedestrians, trains, motor vehicles, and (originally but now defunct) trams. It offers an excellent aspect on the Opera House and is very much a part of Sydney life - a sponsored walk was taking place as we made our return trip.

Sydney Harbour from the bridge

At 1pm we presented ourselves at Sydney's Museum of Contemporary Art (MCA) for a guided tour. The guide was challenging as much as she was informative. I find that interpreting modern artwork is often difficult, and so I was grateful for a second, considered opinion against which to contrast my own. However, the collection also features some modern aboriginal works, including this piece by the excellently named Gordon Bennet that sums up the treatment of the indigenous people by the European settlers in six alliterative illustrations.

A people dispossessed

After our cultural education in Australia's modernist movement, we continued educating our palette with its craft revolution at The Harts pub.

I <3 Harts

Despite the rich heritage in taverns and bars in the area, Harts occupies an ostentatious castellated building that was once a private residence, which, having survived demolition, was only very recently converted into a craft beer establishment and purveyor of Australian ales, including those from Sydney's own The Rocks.

After a 'meet the brewer' event with NSW's Nomad and Italy's Birra del Borgo on Wednesday, selections from both were still available on the taps. We threw temperance to the wind and supped two tasting paddles, which included excellent samples of Nomad's Long Trip saison, a stellar 4-way collaboration APA, Se La Reale, between del Borgo, BridgeRoad, Lervig, and To Øl, as well as the Nomad/Cigar City Ribery brown ale, which tasted of dried fruit and nuts. An honourable mention also goes to The Rocks' Butcher porter.

The Rocks is also home to the observatory, set on top of a hill overlooking the harbour bridge, which originally - like Greenwich - kept time for the local area, indicating the hour with a regular 'ball drop'. The view over the harbour and surrounding area is stunning and commands a high price ($100 per 15 minutes) for wedding photography. As it happened, a wedding party was in full swing as we strolled the grounds, and a large cruise ship hove into view and squeezed its massive bulk improbably under the bridge.

Will it fit?

The west coast of Milsons Point is currently being heavily developed, buy many of the original small houses remain, reminding me of UK south-coast harbour towns, particularly Portsmouth. There is a similar mix of low-rise, stone terraced buildings, functioning as residences, boutiques and cafés, interspersed with a few tall modern glass apartments. I am led to understand that there is increasing pressure for to yield the current properties, many of which provide social housing, to development.

Over the Pyrmont Bridge, the area was a complete contrast - being a constructed mall that runs the length of Darling Harbour. That said, the promenade allowed pedestrians to enjoy the harbour side, while the traffic was far removed on the overhead flyovers.

Darling Harbour

Our walk took us through Tumbalong Park and ended in Sydney's China Town district. We have also seen similar Thai and Korea towns signposted, but today's market along Dixon Street attracted a large crowd for the stalls selling steamed buns and cheap imported plastic items. The hard sell that we have become accustomed to in such marketplaces was conspicuous in its absence. In fact, we marvelled at the wide aisles and orderliness at Paddy's indoor market, where similar set-ups in SE Asia have stall vendors operating cheek by jowl.

In the evening, we met up with a friend, who emigrated from the UK over 6 years ago and now lives in Canberra with his Australian wife and family. Having been regular visitors to Sydney, they recommended the venue for the evening - Din Tai Fung on World Square.

Being quiet and relaxed throughout the week, the streets of Sydney came alive on Friday evening; the restaurant and its competitors were busy with people enjoying the balmy evening air.

Gao zi at Din Tai Fung

Specialising in authentic Chinese food and dim sum, the restaurant served up a selection of dishes including a "vegetarian delight" (cold salad of tofu strips, seaweed, glass noodles), vegetarian jiao zi (dumplings), vegetarian bao zi (buns), and dan dan noodles (tahini-creamy sesame chilli noodles). Washed down with one or three Coopers' Pale Ales, it was the perfect accompaniment to some catching up. Fully sated, we ventured out into the bright lights of Sydney's start to the weekend and saw the city by night.

An Unexpected Night at the Opera

After an amusing episode this morning, which threatened to see my marching into reception wearing only a towel and carrying a faulty key card to our room, I eventually met K (fully clothed) for breakfast.

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.

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').

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

All the major food groups

Back in Sydney, we entered the rarefied and unfamiliar environment known only to opera aficionados.

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.

Got the CeeBeeDeebies

When I went to sleep last night, we were flying over Australia. As I awoke this morning, we were still flying over Australia. It's a big place. Much of Europe's mass would fit into Australia's borders, and the leg of our flight over the island during the night was equivalent to travelling from northern Scotland to Turkey.

To celebrate the monumental distance travelled, we were served a slightly odd breakfast of a cold bap containing some Mediterranean vegetables.

We touched down in Sydney airport around 10:30, and limbered ourselves up for the inevitable immigration queue. Fortunately Her Majesty's request, stated on our passports, to allow the bearer "to pass freely without let or hindrance" was taken rather more seriously at the Australian border than elsewhere on our travels. There seemed to be an imperialist 'fast track' that we gladly took advantage of, leaving travellers of most other nationalities in our wake.

The next hurdle was customs. We had filled in a frightening landing slip on board the plane, which had required us to declare any items that may harbour potentially ecosystem-destroying bodies, such as bacteria or eggs. We vacillated over which boxes to tick before opting for full and frank disclosure, even though we were sure the 'carved wooden articles' and 'walking boots' in our luggage presented no threat to the local flora and fauna. Fortunately, the border botanist agreed, for the most part, and removed only the nutmeg from a selection of mixed spices I had picked up in Bali. Fearing that our soiled clothes and  souvenirs made from suspect foreign materials would be confiscated and burned, this was a good result.

The trip from the airport into Sydney's CBD (Central Business District) was smooth and uneventful, if expensive, and gave us our first taste of western service and transport for five months. Nobody jostled at the arrivals hall to usher us into an unlicenced taxi, and nobody asked us what our 'programme' was for the following day in the hope that we would hire them or their cousin as a private guide. It was slightly eery - almost as though we were invisible.

The trade-off for this well-oiled, clean and spacious experience was the price. A one-way ticket for the 20-minute journey set each of us back close to $18, including a hefty airport surcharge. However, this is still well below the cost of the Heathrow or Gatwick express train.

The departure station reminded me of Schipol airport in the Netherlands, with wide empty platforms and double-decker trains. When we alighted, the platform at Liverpool Street resembled, fittingly, the curved and tiled underground of London's tube.

We arrived quickly at Y Hotel - our basic but clean lodgings conveniently located at the southern end of Hyde Park, just at the intersection of Oxford Street and Liverpool Street. Yes, it is very confusing having all the familiar London landmarks jumbled and topologically remapped onto a different city.

Why not?

I expected the CBD to be like Canary Wharf - thrumming with people in suits and Bluetooth headsets by day and apocalyptically empty by night. This is not so, as central Sydney is humming with people socialising, exercising and generally looking happy to be alive, while the area is well landscaped with plenty of green area and open spaces. We revelled in the wide pavements, segregating us from the roads -  neither of which were busy with vehicles or pedestrians.

Having checked in and dropped our bags, we took ourselves on a tour of the local vicinity.

ANZAC memorial

Hyde Park was the obvious starting point, the southern end of which is host to a memorial to the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC). Although the term ANZAC is used for the army to this day, it original referred to the troops of the First World War, who were landed as British colonial forces in Gallipoli (in modern Turkey) to secure the peninsula for the Allied war effort. The troops suffered heavy losses and casualties and the attack was eventually defeated. This is commemorated on the anniversary of the landing on 25th April each year.

The prominent memorial does not glorify the act of war and is largely a reminder of the enormous loss of life as soldiers either did not return to their families or returned unable to work and requiring long-term care. The monument recognises their bravery and their sacrifice.

St Mary's cathedral

Our walk north through the city was an easy and enjoyable stroll taking in St Mary's cathedral, Hyde Park barracks, The Mint, Martin Place, and the Library. The Lindt café on Martin Place was the unfortunate site of the terrible shootings earlier this year, but it was heartening to see that there was no fear or suspicion dampening the mood of the people there.

Opposite Martin Square, we paid a quick visit to the Parliament building. It was only a few minutes before closing time and a harried-looking man on the desk, who was eager to lock up and go home, very kindly let us look in the 'green room' - a smaller equivalent of the House of Commons in the UK.

Sydney abounds with large grassy areas, from Hyde Park to the Botanic Garden. Adjoining the garden is The Domain, a public park where people take a break from work to eat their lunch, have a picnic with friends, or run or cycle in the sunshine. At the heart of this area is the excellent Gallery of New South Wales.

Art gallery of NSW

The permanent collection comprises a selection of 18th/19th century paintings, many of which were painted by Britons arriving in Australia.

Banzai!

The extensive gallery also houses a section on Asia, including Buddhist and Hindu iconography and modern/classic Japanese art, as well as an area dedicated to aboriginal art, and some 'other' pieces.

Um?

By the time we reached the basement, our critical faculties were beginning to falter from the long day. We could have spent many more hours there, but our eyes were closing. We sought sustenance and an early night.

The art gallery opens late on Wednesdays and, as we left, was gearing up for the evening with live entertainment and a bar. It reminded me of London's South Bank Centre but with far fewer people. In fact this trend is echoed across the city centre - it is much less populated than I had expected, and gives the impression of a cleaner, smarter version of the English capital.

In Cook & Phillip Park (named after the British vanguard James Cook and his successor, Arthur Phillip), close to St. Mary's cathedral, we found Bodhi - a purely vegetarian Asian eatery with outdoor seating. We sat among the red lanterns in the balmy early-evening air (still around 25° despite our being out of the tropics) and perused our choices.

We knew that this leg of the journey, through Australia and New Zealand - would be expensive; nevertheless, the prices were dismaying. Malaysian-style curries that we had until recently been slurping up for a handful of shekels were suddenly priced in excess of $20. We sucked our teeth, and ordered a selection of Asian tapas, which was magnificent and satisfying.

Asian feast

We feasted on steamed BBQ 'pork' buns, mushroom har gow, savoury green beans, a delightful morsel of soy mince and orange wrapped in a betel leaf, plus a pair of delectable aubergine 'fillets' in a light batter topped with peanuts and lemon. With chewy, plump brown rice and tea, it was filling fare.

One other significant benefit of exiting SE Asia into Australia is the availability of good beer. Several years ago, that statement could not have been made, but the craft brewing scene has exploded here and in NZ just as microbreweries have resurged in the USA and UK.

I fully intend to avail ourselves of the glut of hop-packed IPAs, nitro stouts, and bonkers barrel-aged fruit-infused imperial farmhouse coffee & rye saisons. We started this journey with a beer flight (or tasting paddle) at The Local Taphouse. Our pilgrimage to the Taphouse took us slightly east out of the CBD, along Oxford Street - possibly the happiest street in Sydney.

The Taphouse is very similar to a cosy English pub, with tall ceilings, wooden floors and leather sofas. At the bar, I winced and exchanged a small fortune for five small pours of beer. Craft drinking has its price and I haven't yet reconfigured my internal accountant to accept the premium placed on artisan products. One of the bottles on the list weighed in at $100. Oof.

Taphouse paddle

The exchange was not regrettable, as all five beers were great, with special mention for the excellently named Operation Paralysis from Doctor's Orders Brewing - an enormous (triple?) IPA at 10% abv and over 150 International Bitterness Units (IBU). It was interesting to note that despite several months without a seriously hoppy ale, my palate didn't recoil at the extreme bitterness imparted by the flavour compounds. Could this be the fabled 'lupulin threshold shift' caused by prolonged exposure to ever hoppier beers?

Going Down Under

We rose and motivated ourselves relatively late this morning, as we suspected we wouldn't get much sleep on the overnight flight to Sydney. This isn't because we don't sleep well on flights, but because long-haul journeys offer the opportunity to watch several films back to back. So, after the lights go down, and everyone else snuggles under their blanket in an attempt to sleep, we watch our way through the catalogue of entertainment like children furtively reading by torchlight under the covers. If we are really lucky, our movie screening is accompanied by food and drink.

We fastidiously planned our couple of days we plan to spend in Sydney, as though it were a military operation. The laid-back approach afforded by our extended stays in other places is unfortunately not applicable to our whistle-stop tour of Sydney.

Once tired of planning, we headed back to Warung Soputan for a final dose of sweet, foamy teh tarik and roti prata with mung bean dal. It was predictably great and we bade farewell to our breakfast tradition.

Packing the final things into our bags threatened to be thwarted as the launderette we used to wash our clothes had unexpectedly closed today. We imagine picking up a neat package of freshly ironed garments, and slotting them into our rucksacks. Instead, I phoned and beat down the doors of the laundry business in an attempt to retrieve our clothes. Eventually, and understandably begrudgingly, someone opened up the premises, folded and returned the washed items. "Not ironed. Come back tomorrow?" implored the man. I tried and failed to explain that we had a flight in a few hours and returning the next day might well be a long and expensive affair.

With everything finally backed, our host very kindly drove us the short distance to airport, braving the scrum of traffic that was involved in such a journey.

Checking in was a relatively painless procedure, although we had a surprise departure tax of $20 per person levied - completely legitimate, but a shock after the $35 p.p. arrival tax.

Having paid out all our last rupiah, we were unable to buy any water for the flight at the inflated airport prices - a 4000 rupiah 1.5 litre bottle at the local supermarket suddenly commands the princely sum of 30,000 rupiah in the confines of post-security departures. A pox on the ingenious terrorists who manufacture in-air explosives from plain water!

Fortunately our access to the Premier Lounge also gave us access to small bottles of water, which we furtively secreted into our carry-on baggage.

The internet at the airport proved itself no better than anywhere else on the island, popping up and disappearing with the regularity of a parent playing peek-a-boo. I was less than amused as the metaphorical child, however, and consoled myself with the selection of beer, wine and food from the buffet.

Anker pilsener was the only malt-based beverage available, although the Jakarta-brewed beer also seems to contain 'jagung', or corn. I mentally added this lager to Angkor and Anchor, from Cambodia and Singapore respectively, as a homophonic beer of similar quality.

"How do you do?"

Sadly, the vegetarian options at such buffets are often limited. We tucked into a salad, followed by fried rice and vegetables, which were oddly cooked in a Chinese, rather than Indonesian, style. It's odd how just fried rice can have such differing preparations - this was certainly not nasi goreng as we knew it.

Fortunately, the wine selection, among the obvious Australian contingent, included a superbly sweet and fruity white from Bali's own Hatten vineyard.

Excitingly, the entire airport was plunged periodically into darkness, the melodic gamelan music in the lounge ceasing abruptly, as the power went out. I only hoped that the more critical functions are on a separate circuit, although it might explain why the WiFi is so poor.

On board our Malaysia Airlines' flight, the genial, everything-not-quite-as-it-should-be atmosphere  reprised itself from our outward journey. Among increasingly consternated outcries from the passengers about the entertainment system - for which the headphones, this time, had been provided, but which had failed to kick in at cruising altitude - it was rebooted, revealing an old Mac OS-style cross on a grey background, followed by the safety announcement (again). This procedure was iterated a few times before a missive arrived that the entertainment would be unavailable.

Without wishing to sound like a curmudgeonly old bore - I relish flights and look forward to the food, which is generally excellent, and the films on board, while the longer the flight the better to enjoy both of these - but the food was horrible. It was a travesty when compared to the delicious cuisine available throughout SE Asia - the rice and vegetables were both overcooked and flavourless.

We switched planes at Kuala Lumpur, where we saw no sign of either koalas or oompa loompahs during our short layover.

The flight from KL to Sydney took us back the way we came, passing almost directly over Denpasar. Still, the backtracking enabled us to peruse the film selection. We chose The Host out of the catalogue, which despite its name is not a 1970's horror, but a recent science fiction film. Sadly, the conceit of having aliens take over human hosts is a tired one and the script, including a voiceover from one human trapped inside their own body, was full of unnecessary exposition.

Taking two flights in a row often means eating two meals. The Denpasar to Kuala Lumpur leg presented us with 'supper', so I'm not sure how to designate the subsequent meal. However, as it arrived around 12AM, I think we can call it a midnight feast.

Mile-high meal

The caterers redeemed themselves with this offering of rice, a spicy kidney bean curry and a creamy vegetable korma. A baby corn salad, and a dinky portion of cheesecake also didn't go amiss.

And with that, I fell into a fitful sleep.