Life's A Beach!

Sunday, we all took a road trip along the shore of Sydney Harbor to the east, circumnavigating the many coves and inlets along the way and ending up at South Head, the southern side of The Gap, where the harbor meets the ocean. From there, we wandered south to Bondi (with a long "i", as in "island") and its spectacular ocean beach.

Unfortunately, the day was wonderfully warm and sunny and Bondi beach was overrun with locals, to the point where the nearest parking was in New Zealand or someplace. There sure wasn't any to be had in town THAT day.

So we wandered further south to La Perouse on Botany Bay, where a colonial era fort guards the entrance to the bay. There is also a national park there. The whole area felt very much like Brenton Point, in Newport, RI, where Narragansett Bay meets the Atlantic. Same greenspace, same steady, prevailing breeze off the water, and same virtually unlimited scenic view seaward.

Then we headed back north again to the beach at Maroubra, which features a beach nearly as braod and inviting as the one at Bondi, except this time we were able to find a place to stash the car so we could take a refreshing swim in the Pacific. And man, did it feel good!

On Monday, Janice took the day off from work and we all took the ferry across the harbor to Taronga Zoo, where we focused on the native Australian species like wallabys, kangaroos and wombats. As you will see in the pictures, the zoo offers a rather wonderful view back over the harbor toward the City, which my Kodak was happy to record just before the batteries finally gave out after 10 days of almost constant use.

To see the pix from the beaches and the zoo, follow this link: Beaches and Zoo

A Night At The Opera

Two posts today. No extra charge! The following post describes a visit to the Sydney Markets for some groceries.

But this one is about the fulfillment of a long time dream of mine, to hear a performance at the Sydney Opera House, reported to offer some of the finest acoustics of any venue on Earth.

It was a sell-out performance and we had seats in the center of the hall, albeit near the back. The first selection was a Beethoven piano concerto. Some passages were so soft, it was as if the pianist was barely brushing the keys with his fingertips. But we heard every note as if we were up on the stage with him. Awesome! Magnificent! Incomparable! The trip was worth it just for this one moment.

The second selection was a Haydon piece that featured passages with just two violins softly playing off each other in contrapuntal fashion. Stunning! Every note so clear and precise. What a magnificent structure this Opera House is. Bravo!!!!

We befriended an Aussie couple sitting next to us and we all went out after the performance to Circular Quay for a drink on the harbor's edge under the stars and moonlight. Was this a special night? Oh, yes, indeed. One I will never forget. Words can't describe how magnificent this evening was.

Sometimes dreams really do come true.

Here are some photos of the Opera House and its environs.  Opera House

To Market, To Market.

Today, Saturday, we all drove out to Farmington, about 12 miles west of the city, where the farmer's market is held inside a large building that obviously used to be a "big box" store, like a WalMart or a Costco.

Acres of fresh food literally as far as the eye can see, and proprietors hawking their wares like auctioneers at a southern tobacco auction. Anything and everything you can think of is on offer and at pretty reasonable prices. Keep in mind that all the signs you see are for a kilo, which is 2.2 pounds. So translating into our terms, if something is $10 a kilo here, that is equivalent to $4 a pound back home.

The shoppers are offered samples of anything they may fancy. And they feel free to inspect every purchase for smell, texture, color, firmness and porosity before buying.

Merchants sometimes stand on their tables and shout out their wares. Dollar! Dollar! Dollar! Two dollar, box. Four dollar bunch! The noise is constant and oddly appealing. There is a blend of languages going on all around: Asain, Turkish, Greek, Arabic, Italian. Even a smattering of English now and again!

On the way out, a couple in front of us had a box of oranges fall off their cart and spill all over the parking lot. Instantly, 7 people stopped what they were doing to help round them up and put them back in the box. Back home, people would gladly run over them with their SUV and think nothing of it.

Australia is a very pleasant place to be.

Check out the pictures from the farmer's market this link:  Market

On The Rocks

Friday was spent exporing The Rocks, an area that was the first settlement in Sydney. I have included most of my commentary in the associated webpage, so I won't repeat it here. Sydney has a rich multi-national tradition. We in the US like to talk about our melting pot, but here, people from all over Asia, Africa, the Middle East, Russia, Europe and the UK all mesh together.

Last night, we went to a Brazilian restaurant called A Taste of Brazil. Quite an experience. It essentially amounts to several hours of attendants bringing large skewers of roasted meat to the table and cutting off slices for all. Pork, lamb, roast beef, ribs, sausages, chicken and several other things I couldn't identify. But its not ALL meat. There was a small bowl of rice on the table for the four of us to share (Janice's brother came along) and some small bowls of Brazilian potato salad with a somewhat spicy dressing. In other words, the fare was 97% meat. Not a good place for vegetarians. I had better take TWO cholesterol pills today!

See today's pictures at this link: The Rocks

Tonight, its off to Beethoven at the Opera House. Now THAT should be an experience.

See y'all online!

A Trip To Nowhere

Thursday found me lusting to point my finger at the transport map and just follow it to some new place again. There are three criteria for these adventures. 1.) The place has to be on the ocean. 2.) It has to be at the end of a rail line. And 3.) It must be someplace I have not been before.

This day, the spot selected was Newcastle, about 80 miles northeast of Sydney. I don't know why. I know nothing of the place, other than that it meets my three criteria.

Well, as I headed north, I noticed that the time was getting later and later. My transportation map doesn't show all the stops on the line, so I really had no idea how much further it was to Newcastle. But the conductor kept calling out coming stops and NONE of them were Newcastle.

Matt and Janice and I had plans to go out for pizza that night. I had no phone and no 'puter, hence no way to contact them. Otherwise, I would have gone on to Newcastle, taken a hotel and returned the next day. But, being out of touch, I was concerned that they would be worrried about me if I just failed to return from my day's adventures.

And so, at 3:30, I got off the train at a nowhere nothingness called Cockle Creek, switched to the other side of the tracks and waited for a train heading back to the city. Essentially, I more or less wasted a day riding the rails. But not entirely. Because along the way, I discovered an area known as the Hawkesbury River, which leads inland from the sea about 20 miles or more. From the flatness of Sydney, I suddenly noticed that the landscape had changed into a succession of crenellated hillsides with many valleys and a large body of water in between. It reminded me of some place I had seen before, but it took me several minutes to dredge up that recollection from the dim recesses of my brain.

In Nova Scotia, on Cape Breton Island, there is a vast inland sea known as Bras D'or, or, in French, the arms of gold. I realized that what I was seeing was very, very similar to my memories of Bras D'Or. Taking pictures out of train words is not usually a way to get good results, especially when moving. And so I have pressed Google Images into service here, so you can get an idea of what I saw.

So my trip to nowhere really was not all for naught. I'm going back next week and will spend the night in Newcastle. And I will stop in the Hawkesbury River region to get a better look at it from on the ground.

Stay tuned!

A Walk In The Park

Today, it was time for the Royal Botanical Gardens, a vast reserve of greenery just steps from the central business district that is a square mile or more in area and packed with lush vegetation and many shady places to sit and let the world roll by. I saw one gal taking a nap up in the mighty arms of a giant water gum tree.

The Gardens abut the Opera House, which abuts Circular Quai, which is where the ferry piers are located. Since I have my all inclusive transport pass, I elected to let the ferry folks take me across the harbor to North Sydney to see some of the sights, and then bring me home to Darling Harbor.
Doing so, I discovered the Australia Welcome Wall, with the names of many of the immigrants, settlers and convicts who came to this land between the 1800's and today. Many of their comments have been preserved in bronze tablets. I took photographs of some of them. Quite a moving spot, all in all.
On the way back, I was stopped by two older gals looking for directions! They said they were from "the countryside", meaning somewhere outside of Sydney. When I said that I was from Boston (close enough) they were perplexed for a moment, until they realized I meant THAT Boston!!!
Another positively gorgeous day here in Sydney. There were some lightning and thunder last evening, followed by about ten drops of rain. But this morning, the skies are clear and blue once again. I think I could like it here!
For today's pix, please follow this link:  Gardens
Enjoy!

On Taking The Train To Cronulla

Tuesday, I was on my own for the first time. I have purchased a 7 day Transit Pass that gives me unlimited access to every bus, train and ferry in the Sydney area. Some of the trains go to places that are as much as 80 miles distant, so its not quite like the subway in New York or Boston.

I studied the transit map and decided I wanted to go the end of the line. Not just any line. One that ended at the ocean. I wanted to see what a typical oceanside community would be like. My finger landed on Cronulla, about 30 miles southeast of the City.

I am getting to be an old hand at navigating Central Station. EVERYTHING that is train related goes to or through Central Station. In Boston, you have North Station and South Station. To get from one to the other requires several subway stops, an expensive cab ride or many busses. Here, the trains from north and south go right through the station, which uncomplicates things a great deal. Its similar to Grand Central in New York, but only about 1/10th the size.

The trains here are clean and quiet. Riding along reminded me of taking the train from London to Heathrow. The houses are neat, orderly and set very close together. Nothing is made of wood here. Everything is brick or masonry or concrete. All the roofs are tile. I suspect that A.) there are not a lot of trees in Australia and B.) the sun blasts anything so the exterior surfaces had better be durable.

I disembarked in Cromulla and started walking toward where the sea should be. Almost everything is condo towers, from 2 to 10 stories high. Most of the roads I was on were dead ends, but after about 15 minutes, I came to one that had ocean at the end of it and the distinctive aroma of salt water tickled my nostrils. The first picture in today's gallery was taken at the end of that street.

Cronulla is very much a retirement community. It's where Aussies come to soak up the sun and watch old Paul Hogan movies. There is a wonderful wide concrete walkway, called The Esplanade, all along the shore, with benches looking out to sea every so often. It reminded me a lot of Marginal Way in Ogunquit, Maine. Even the shore was rocky and craggy, just like Maine's is. And the benches have plaques affixed to them, in memory of a Cronullan now departed. Very nice and peaceful.

After about a mile, The Esplanade brings you to the large, wide beach at the edge of town. There are galleries filled with arts and crafts and plentiful seaside bistros for dining or quaffing a beer or two. On the beaches, school children assemble under the watchful eyes of life guards who double as day care mothers and keep the children active and entertained during the afternoon after school lets out. For many in Australia, life IS, indeed, a beach.

Cronulla was not quite the hip, happenin' place that Manly was. It is much more peaceful and serene, as befits its older population. Those of you who have ever been to the Gulf Coast of Florida from Indian Rocks Beach down to Venice and Naples will know immediately the look and feel of the place. The similarities are striking.

In late afternoon, I trundled homeward on the train, somewhat hot and foot sore. But a stop for some refreshing Aussie ale along the way help immeasurably!

For photos of today's journey, please follow this link: Cronulla



Cheers!