We left the hostel just before 5am. Our shuttle driver was looking forward to a trip to the states next fall. He was going to spend our winter in Colorado driving for Mountain Express. He figures five months work in the states will equal about a year and a half’s salary in NZ.
Our three and a half hour flight was a virtual hour and a half with the time change. Leave Kiwi-land 7am, arrive Sydney 8:30am. Oz customs has a when-in-doubt-declare-it policy. If you have a prohibited substance, food or such, and declare it, they look at it and let you know. Worst case they keep it. If, on the other hand, you forget you might have something and they find it, its two to four hundred dollar fine on the spot. Incarceration can also be an option if the customs people feel it was intentional… We check “yes” on a bunch of boxes on the visitor form: yes we have food, yes we have nuts, yes we have been in rural areas in the last thirty days, yes we have been on or near farms in the last thirty days. We get to queue up in the “Something to declare” line. Kimberly has to give up her Turkish dates, other than that we are golden.
We grabbed a shuttle to our hostel. Traffic was insane. The twenty-minute trip took over ninety. Local temperature: 28C (83F+/-). We are staying in Kings Cross, an infamous red-light district
near the harbor. As it turns out in Sydney everywhere is near the harbor. It’s a really big harbor, with lots of nooks and crannies. We discover that the insane volume of traffic is due to the historic arrival of the Queen Mary 2. The QM2 is so big it has to dock at the naval quay, just down the hill from Kings Cross. A huge number of Sydneysiders are trying to get close to the waterfront to see the spectacle.Our hostel is a dump, however the staff is excellent. We are provided with a detailed map and there is a great self guided walking tour down to, and along, the harbor. It meanders through the
botanical gardens, past the Opera House and over to Circular Quay and the Rocks, then into the CBD (Central Business District, it took a while to work that out in NZ, downtown road signs, buses, and trains are all labeled “CBD”, or more familiar to us, “City Centre”)Sydney is built into the local topography. It is hilly, but not as up and down as Seattle or San Francisco. A short walk down the hill brings us to Woolloomoolloo Bay and the naval quay. Vehicles are moving at less than a crawl near and along the waterfront. The QM2 is an imposing bit of steelwork. Before we could see the actual boat, the top of the superstructure was visible over the treetops. Kimberly couldn’t figure out why someone would top a building with such an odd design… It is indeed a floating city. The military actually moved both a destroyer and a sub tender off the quay to let her tie up. For all the technicla stuff here is the Cunard site: QM 2
We slowly work our way through the photo taking throngs to get up to the botanical gardens. In 
addition to all the curious, there are the normal everyday masses of joggers, strollers, lunch-takers and the horticulturally observant. This is a busy place today.As we have mentioned (over and over it seems…) the Brits know how to put together a garden. This is by far the most spectacular specimen of botanical gardens we have seen yet. We head out to Mrs. Macquarie’s Chair, a point at the end of this particular promontory. Back in the day, the original governor built a special chair for his wife here, so she could sit and watch the arriving ships. The original chair is long gone, but
some newer seats have been added, and the views remain. Form this vantage you can see across, up, down and back 
along three of the primary waterways. Sailboats, jet boats, the Harbour Bridge, the Opera House, commercial ships, cruise ships, skylines, and neighborhoods are all seen from this point. A very pleasant walk indeed. We head ‘round towards the Opera House, officially the most photographed icon in the southern hemisphere. This is understandable, as the gardens set up numerous vantage points. Even the most unconfident of photographers can still achieve some stellar shots along here. The Opera House itself is a marvel of architectural engineering.
When the building engineers need to use theoretical physics to figure out how to build your design, and then still manage to do it, you know you’ve accomplished something: “Oi, Mick, ‘ow you reckon this’ll hold up?” “I don’t ‘neeoow… If we have enough speed behind the rivets, the resultant energy should have mild anti-gravitonic properties maybe?” “ Ay, good on’ya mate, we’ll giv ‘er a go. I have that speed-of-light rivet gun warming up as we speak”. Contrary to popular belief, the curves are not representative of sails, but rather are semi-spherical to produce an idea of nested globes.No matter. The building is really quite the sight. Sydneysiders are justifiably proud of this little treasure. We continue on around circular quay: Lots of open cafés, ferries and buskers prancing
about. We end up in the Rocks. The Rocks are the original sleazy part of town, back when the majority of the population had been criminals working off their sentence. Narrow alleyways and buildings are blended into the sandstone cliff sides. The area was saved from re-development back in the seventies and is now home to boutique shops and small restaurants. An essence of its tawdry past lingers still, however the modern criminal sleazebag would much rather set up shop in Kings Cross. (More on that momentarily…)After a delicious and affordable seafood lunch in the Rocks, we head back through a different section of the gardens. An unusual screechy warbling is emanating from the trees. Its not an unpleasant sound, familiar, yet not. Dry conditions have left many treetops with thinner leaf than normal. Hanging bundles of dry leaf debris, maybe some kind of nests, are silhouetted in the
treetops. Organic smells, not strong, but noticeable, linger in the background. After a few meters 
we see a nest move… then a few more… The nests have wings! Flying Foxes! (Fruit bats) Just like the ones in the second Crocodile Dundee movie. (Apologies to our Ozzie friends for having to use that as a reference…) You can tell the tourists here in the gardens; we are staring up into the trees, mesmerized by the activities of these large flying vegetarians. Sadly, almost the entire natural bat habitat has been destroyed throughout this region, as well as in most of New South Wales, over the last century or so. The bats found the gardens on their own, and have been living and breeding here for decades. They feed on fruits and nectar in the “native” trees throughout the gardens. It is a living testament to the quality of the gardens that it can support this many creatures, while at the same time being unfortunate that they have to live here in order to thrive.The QM2’s sister ship, the QE2, is due in port about 6:00 (18:00 local time…). There are fireworks scheduled for 9:00 (21:00) to mark this unprecedented occasion: Two really big cruise ships, neither of which most Sydneysiders would want, or will, ever embark upon, docked together in the
southern hemisphere. However, everyone likes a party, and fireworks… We wander a few blocks from the hostel at the appointed time and find a good spot along the wrought iron fenceworks. As JD is securing his camera to the iron, a bloke sidles up next to KK and says “How ‘bout a kiss love?” KK obligingly leans over to give him a peck on the cheek. It is at this moment the poor fellow realizes he doesn’t know KK… In classic Ozzie fashion he quickly runs with the situation: Some pleasant banter, an apology or two and we are all good mates. JD is precariously wedged into the fence in order to take timed exposures. The bloke politely points out the incredibly large spider that is slowly stalking JD’s ear… Knowing we are in the country that provides 8 of the top 10 most deadly creatures on the planet we pay attention. (Sydney is home to 
a particularly nasty variety of funnel-web spider. It packs enough punch to take out ten or so normal sized people…) Our not-so-little new companion is a Huntsman Spider. A palm-sized arachnid that is, supposedly, non-poisonous. Dobermans are non-poisonous, and I wouldn’t want to be bit by one of those either… JD gives the critter room. It turns out it just wants to see the fireworks as well. After the show KK is ready to turn in. JD decides to try and find a pub recommended by the hostel.Kings Cross in reminiscent of Times Square circa 1975-1985, only in miniature: Five or six strip clubs, a few dozen hookers, one crack dealer, two pot dealers, a sprinkling of upscale cafes and restaurants, a McD’s and a police headquarters. JD gets to observe a blend of families, sailors on leave, locals looking for action, and backpackers having a laugh. Three hookers and two dealers approach him as well as all of the strip club touts. Highly entertaining. He never did get into the pub he was looking for. The local entertainment guide in the hostel mentioned you should always haggle for the strip club entry…
The next day we got to try out the local public transport system. Sydney has an extensive, accessible and affordable subway/bus system in place. There is, of course, a Kings Cross station. We buy a couple of train/bus combo tickets to get us to Bondi Beach: The beach to see and be
seen at. A popular cliff-walk path is in place that runs about 10 k down the coast. We walk about 3.5k to Bronte Beach and back. The water is magnificent, as are the views. We decide to absorb some UV on Bondi. Breasts are not taboo here, and many of the ladies choose to avoid tan lines. JD, ever the gentleman, keeps his camera in the bag, picks a point 30 degrees above the horizon, and never once moves his head for three hours… Yeah, that is exactly how KK remembers it… JD feels that is his story; he’s sticking to it.Gelateria’s abound. No TipTop, but gelato is much preferred anyway, less fat, more flavor. We find a gelato stand called Wild Thingz. JD orders a double scoop, expecting the normal, delicate, tiny golf-ball size rounds one gets in most gelato places. This particular place is recently opened, and trying to make a name for itself. That name is Oh-My-God… It was too big to fit in, on, or around the cone. “Two Scoops” was more than half a pint, precariously perched on top of a waffle cone. Turbo licking was required to catch the immediate heat induced liquid cream cascade from running all down the arm in the ambient 40 degree C temperature. Life is good.
We hop the bus back to the train, then on to Central Station. We are picking up train tickets to get us to Melbourne on Friday. The Sydney subway system is amazingly clean, well marked, and runs at nowhere near capacity. There a five inner city lines, with most having extensions into the inner ‘burbs. Central Station is the congregation point for the city lines and the lines that serve the outer ‘burbs and the other states. Central Station is HUGE. We walk about a kilometer to get to the interstate train platforms 1 through 3 (vs. platform 9 ¾ …) and the ticket booth. Sadly, the only seats left re in first class. Near as we can tell, the difference between first class and coach is solely which car the seats are in.
The train will be leaving at 7:03am in the morning on Friday (12:03pm Thursday in Seattle). We’ll be getting up at O’dark thirty to catch the subway train to central… Oof. Happily we can haul our checked bags down tomorrow night. We received a “deal” book from our hostel that includes ten free drinks at ten different pubs around Sydney. Two are near Central, so we decide to check on out after picking up our tickets. The Scubar is famous for its Monday Night Crab Races. It’s Wednesday. ‘Nuf said.
Thursday is Aquarium Day! The Sydney Aquarium is supposed to contain all Oz based sea life. We pick up the special “city hopper” subway ticket. Unlimited on/off in all the inner city stops- $5 Oz. JD is really enjoying himself, maneuvering between the different subway lines.
On the walk to the aquarium we find Dymocks Booksellers. Three stories tall and a quarter of a city block in area. It appears to be the Ozzie answer to Barnes & Noble and Borders. Lonely Planet guide books are published here in Oz (Melbourne is their corporate headquarters), There are three full rows of guide books, including smaller ones like: “Guide to the three blocks of South Central LA non-residents can visit” and “Tampa- a city on the move”. OK, I’m making those up. However, it turns out here are a lot of niche books published by Lonely Planet. (“Somalia on less than 5 cents a day”…).
Something we truly do not appreciate in the states is the availability and affordability of books. Forget the absolute discounting of Amazon.com. Full retail in B&N, Waldenbooks, Borders, etc is still fully one-third to one-quarter of the price here or in NZ (and from the sounds of it, the UK). Second-hand booksellers charge more for a dog-eared copy of a non-descript bodice-ripper (Harlequin novel) than a brand-new copy would ever cost in the states. That being said, it has been tough for voracious readers like us to buy books, even used ones. No matter, we wander the store for well over an hour. It is one of the best-stocked bookstores we have ever been in. All it needs is a café and wireless…
Down to the waterfront of Darling Harbour and the aquarium. We have very high standards with
aquariums. Seattle and Baltimore are the current tops on our list. Variety of life, viability of tanks, and realistic presentation are the markers for our experiences. Sydney has bumped its way to the 
top. Well-marked and appropriately lighted displays and tanks, approachable docents, and the shear volume of critters that is almost overwhelming score it major points. There is a walk through, and under, seal habitat. A walk under fully stocked shark habitat. A walk-through Great Barrier Reef habitat, and assorted other over-under-through displays that cover all that Ozzie fresh and salt water have to offer. Touch tanks. For the poppets there is a “Find Nemo” 
challenge with a check-card to find all of the characters from the movie. We held out until the verge of starvation before we hunted down lunch on the harbour. (Be sure to link over to Sydney Photos as there is no way for me to post but a small portion of the aquarium shots here)
During lunch we asked about a peculiar (to us anyway) long-beaked bird. The server didn’t know what it was called; however she referred to it as long-beaked garbage eating chicken bird”. Now we know.We had been told by a variety of Oz veterans we needed to visit the Minus 5 Degree Bar. It is a vodka bar with an ice room. For a nominal fee you can don a winter coat and
sip frozen Russian vodka on an ice table. Since we do that regularly in Vegas at Red Square (Mandalay Bay, South Strip) we pass on the ice room and instead enjoy some of their in-house infusions. KK has a cinnamon flavor while JD works on a pepper-spice concoction. Both are quite tasty and lead us to make a variety of infusion plans upon our eventual return to the states.JD has specifically been carrying his “long-lens” all day. He wants some better shots of the flying foxes. While we were getting liquored up it has become quite overcast. As we head to the gardens it begins to rain. Not a monsoon or anything, just enough to make it unpleasant to walk in. We hurry through the gardens to the nearest subway entrance and opt instead to return to Bondi Beach for more gelato. Yum.
We have the option of bringing our checkable bags to the station tonight. Since we’d rather not have to haul everything in the early AM (bleary-eyed and crabby…) we do just that. After dropping our bags, we try another free-drink place. This one is definitely livelier. Some Ozzie techno-rock fusion videos and a number of younger 20-somethings doing what 20-somethings do: Drink, try to Hook-Up, drink some more, repeat… We have a good laugh realizing we could actually be, in theory, the parents of some/all of the crowd. We imagined a few looking our way and thinking “Ohmygawd- they look my mum’s friends! Whyaretheyhere? Ithoughtthisplacewascoolerthanthis!” JD had to have a second beer just to terrorize the little whippersnappers. We dragged our Royal & Ancient bones back to the hostel to prepare for the long day on the train. Tomorrow evening we’ll be in Melbourne, visiting with our friend Christine.
