You are in Sydney, now what to do?

So, you have just arrived in Sydney and are raring to go explore this beautiful city.

What’s first?

1)    Sleep and adapting to jetlag – don’t underestimate it.  My first experience of it, with a flight not broken by a stopover was incredible.  I slept like the dead.  Even when I woke up, I couldn’t move any part of my body other than my eyes.  Completely fruitless, all I could do was surrender and go back to sleep.  First lesson, do NOT have an afternoon disco/nanna nap.  Do NOT. 

2)   Get out and walk the city.  For the first time tourist, all roads lead to Circular Quay, the transport hub and also home to the beautiful Port Jackson harbour, better known as Sydney Harbour.  Well at least I thought they did but a friend who recently arrived from the UK seems to have problems navigating the city and when heading there, usually ends up at the other side of town completely. Framed on one side by the Harbour Bridge and the other, the Opera House (opened by Queen Elizabeth II on October 20, 1973), Circular Quay is a magnet for tourists.

3)  Watsons Bay – being English, fish and chips is something of an obsession.  Finding good fish and chips is very difficult in Australia.  Believe me, I’ve tried.  And tried.  And keep trying.  Doyle’s takeaway shack at Watson’s Bay is probably the closest I’ve come.  And the trip there is amazing alone.  Get the ferry from Circular Quay, take in world beating views of the harbour, and join the queues on arrival.  Once you have your food, go and sit on the grass like all the locals, eating your fish and chips, looking back across the sparkling azure waters to the city.  When you are ready to return, jump on the bus and try to count the number of homes fit for millionaires as you journey through the suburb of Vaucluse.

4)  Manly beach – very popular, for good reason, Manly is one of the best beaches in Sydney for tourists to easily get to.  Once again, head to Circular Quay and jump on a famous green and gold ferry for the 30 minute ride across to Manly.  On arrival, don’t make the mistake of somebody I know who thought the tiny strip of beach he could see on arrival at the ferry wharf was the “famous Manly beach”  Utterly unimpressed, he spent a short time soaking up some rays before deciding it was the most overrated beach he had been to.  Now, had he walked from the ferry, across the Corso, he would have arrived at the “real” Manly beach, surely garnering much improved memories of his little day out.

5)  Bondi to Coogee coast walk -  The easiest way to get to the start of this walk is a “train and bus” combination ticket.  Train to Bondi Junction and then a bus from the interchange to Bondi beach.  Usually a 333, 380, or 381 bus.  Don’t hang around in the very faded elegance of Bondi, but head along past the fabulously located Bondi Icebergs outdoor swimming pool, and onto the coastal path walk to Coogee, taking in delights such as Tamarama, Clovelly and Bronte on the way.  All worthy of return visits in their own right.  On arrival in Coogee who can resist fish and chips (I told you I was obsessed) at Chish and Fips on the beach.  Washed down with a cold schooner from the Coogee Bay hotel.

6)  The Blue Mountains – take the train from Central station out to the Blue Mountains, a journey of just over 2 hours from Sydney, but a world away on arrival in Katoomba.  Do a walk, jump on one of the tour buses, explore.  Discover why it is in fact called the “Blue” mountains, which is as a result of the blue haze given off by all the eucalyptus leaves.  Breathe in the fresh mountain air and marvel at the thought you are so close to a bustling city yet so far away in the mountains.

7)  Spit to Manly walk - If you are feeling energetic, do the 10kms Spit to Manly walk.  You will not be disappointed.  If you were paying me for this recommendation I would give you a “no quibbles” money back guarantee.  Get the bus to Spit bridge from the city and start the walk along the Middle Harbour shoreline. See the Heads, north and south, from a different perspective.  Visit a historical site of Aboriginal rock engravings.  Make friends with one of the many iguanas you will inevitably see on the way.  Reward yourself at the end with a cold cider at the New Brighton Hotel on the Corso and lunch at one of the many cafes and restaurants lining the sea front.

8)  Taronga Zoo – And we are back to Circular Quay again for the ferry over to Taronga Zoo.  I told you Circular Quay would be an important spot for the visitor to Sydney.  Now, some people like zoos.  Some don’t.  I’m in the “do” camp and not just because Taronga surely the best view from any zoo in the world.  It also has an overall experience to rival that of even the great Singapore Zoo.  Believe me, even the animals look to be smiling.  And as you meander through the many exhibits, seeing all the animals, looking back across the water, seeing the sun reflected off the sails of the Opera House, you will understand why.

9)  Harry’s Café de Wheels – Another food related recommendation, but who doesn’t like a good pie and peas?  And where better to get them than the world renowned Harry’s Café de Wheels, at Woolloomooloo.  Really.  That is not made up.  Google it and check.  You can either walk here, through the Royal Botanic gardens (recommended) or jump one of the very frequent Sydney buses.  Treat yourself to a Harry’s Tiger, which is your choice of pie, served up with peas, mash and gravy.  They even have HP sauce to complement/finish the experience.  Feeling like a bit of exercise after?  Cross the road and tackle the very steep, very numerous steps up to Potts Point and have a wander through some beautiful leafy streets, lined with Victorian architecture.

10)  The North Shore – Yes, there is life across the water too.  Get out and explore some of Sydney’s lesser seen, and lesser known North Shore suburbs.  Neutral Bay with it’s great bar and dining scene.  Mosman with achingly cool cafes and Balmoral Beach just down Raglan Road (one of my favourite Sydney beaches).   Kirribilli and Milsons Point with it’s eclectic mix of places to eat, and also home to the excellent theme park, Luna Park, a throw back to a more innocent time, when fun was fun.  Take a bus up the Northern beaches.  Check out Curl Curl (so good they named it twice), Narrabeen and beautiful Whale Beach.  Finish up at Palm Beach, made famous by “Home and Away” and have lunch, drinks, or both at the Boat Shed café.  This, my friends, is a gem.

What have I missed off your quintessential SYDNEY EXPERIENCE?  What are your “go to” activities on arrival in this beautiful harbour city? 

Let me know.

You are so cool

There is a great advert on the TV in the UK for a broadband service based in Yorkshire.  In the advert, lots of fanciful things are just about to begin before the protagonist shouts the inimitable catchphrase.  Recently I’ve had many an occasion, way too many to be totally truthful, to recant that phrase, if not out loud, but then most definitely sotto voce.

And what causes this mild form of tourettes?  Sydney has been taken over by the “hipsters”.  Starting with the Bondi Hipsters, Bondi Hipsters - YouTube

, the phenomenon has made it’s way either by stealth, or good transport links, over to the North Shore.  No longer can I leave the apartment and walk a few yards before encountering a hipster clothed in Mosman mulberry.  And not mulberry of the very expensive handbag variety, but mulberry the colour.  I thought it was plum.  But no, I was corrected.  Definitely mulberry.  And it has to be the right tone of mulberry.  I was told this by a English friend who turned up in what looked suspiciously like a pair of washed out mulberry shorts.  Hmm, I have my eye on him.

To complete the look you have to also wear a pair of achingly cool old style, black rimmed glasses, sport a haircut that looks like something from the 80s with a laughable quaff, have one of the ubiquitous “fixie” bikes without gears, and you have your look.

And it’s everywhere.  As though the locals are bred in some kind of test tube and released into the world when they grow into their mulberry chinos.  I feel like I am in some kind of Hipster version of the Stepford Wives. 

Which leads me back to the advert, and the catchphrase, “You can stop that nonsense”.  You see, that’s not how we are made in Yorkshire.  We are simple, down to earth folk really.  Not feeling the need to look like everybody else to fit in.  We realise that by looking like everybody else, you become that exact opposite of cool.  And that bike, the fixie with no gears, yeah, maybe it does carry an air of cool about it, but I’d like to see you ride it and not just push it to the café, casually resting it against the wall whilst you order your soy skinny decaff mocha latte chino.

And don’t get me started on the lycra brigade.  Maybe next time…

My favourite day of the week?

What is your favourite day of the week?  Is it Friday, like a couple of good friends of mine, who get their last working day of the week underway by bopping with their morning brew to McFly?  Is it Saturday, with long afternoons in the pub putting the world to rights?  Or Sunday, starting with a late, leisurely breakfast?

Can anybody guess the favourite day of the week for a traveller?  Here’s a clue, it’s not one to be found on a conventional Gregorian calendar.  When you are travelling long term, why would a Thursday be any different to a Tuesday, or a Sunday any better than a Wednesday.  The significance of days disappears and you just live.  Live for whatever moment you are in.  I guess this is where the quote, “forever is composed of lots of little now’s” comes from.

So, what marks a day out as being different?  Laundry day.  There.  As simple as that.  Not pay day.  Not the weekend.  But laundry day.  The day that you get to smell fresh clothes again.  The t-shirt you have basically lived in.  For the briefest of times, it’s like new all over.  You don’t own many clothes as a traveller.  Where would you carry them all?  So each item gets recycled a lot more that you would at home.  A lot more.  It does make you realize how little you need.  There is a sense of liberation.  Being set free from the shackles of consumerism.  So, on laundry day, it’s like the first day you set out from home.  New bag, packed with clean, fresh smelling clothes. 

This is the other perspective that travel gives you.  Not just immersing yourself and learning about new cultures.  Not solely making new friends in foreign climes.  But how to take the pleasure and see the beauty in the little things life gives us.  Like clothes smelling of lavender.

How many of you have laundry day as your favourite day?

An ode to Brighouse

They say you can take the man out of Brighouse, but not Brighouse out of the man.

I say this is true.  Having been a very proud resident of this great little Northern market town for most of my life, I am now residing in Sydney, Australia.  And what I would do for a portion of fish and chips from the Dolphin (whoops, must remember it’s now Blakeley’s).  A cup of tea and a slice or two of well buttered bread on the side.  Or maybe one of Brayshaw’s famous pork pies.  Taken home and served us with a portion of real mushy peas.  Or perhaps even a slice of warm apple pie from the Merry England, making use of their newly acquired wi-fi to write my latest blog.  Finish off the day with a couple of economically priced pints in the Richard Oastler Wetherspoons pub.  I think even Brook’s restaurant is economically priced compared to Sydney.

You see, it is only when you become an expat that you realize just how much you miss these little creature comforts from home.  Distance makes the heart grow fonder?  It certainly does something, if I am coming over all misty eyed for “Briggus”.  Yes, Sydney has a world class dining scene.  One to rival the gastronomic capitals of London and Paris.  But you try and find a good pork pie.  Or a portion of chips that even slightly resemble the best that either Blakeley’s, or the Golden Hind serve up in yesterday's Brighouse Echo without fanfare.  Good luck is all I say.  

Having left Brighouse only as recently as July this year, I know that these things will take some adjusting to.  The delights of Brighouse may fade and become just a memory.  Those balmy (really?) evenings meandering along the canal, feeding the ducks.  That said, it seems I'm not alone with a fondness for Brighouse.  It even has it’s own love song.  Thanks to a good friend for recently pointing me in the direction of Roger Davies singing “Brighouse on a Saturday night” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Al5YWeBpDw

In the meantime, if anybody wants to send me a few pork pies…

Month 3, so soon?

Be careful what you wish for, I thought as I signed the contract for my new job.  The next 6 months planned out.  Not a feeling I enjoy very much if I am searingly honest.  Over the last few years, 6 months seems to be the threshold before wanting to venture out and do something new.  6 month work contracts.  6 month apartment leases.  I’d throw in 6 month relationships but I don’t seem to be able to even reach that point.

However, being realistic, to live, and enjoy, living in central Sydney, one must work and earn a fair amount of money.  Take the Faustian pact to pay for the trappings of a harbourside lifestyle.  And quite some lifestyle it is, let me tell you.  Arriving in August, the back end of Winter, I have been blessed with the kind of weather that I came here for.  Spring is developing nicely and I am already looking forward to Summer and lazy days at the beach.  I have just had a conversation with the girl in the bottle shop about whether I miss Yorkshire.  And in truth, I do.  A lot.  It’s just the weather I don’t miss, especially now as the cold really appears to be settling in.  It makes me shiver just thinking about it.

So, for this much warmer expat, month 3 starts with me securing gainful employment, my own apartment and with transport, Besbi the Bimbo.  Besbi being the brand of scooter that I bought recently.  Bimbo being the first word that came into my head starting with B.  I have always wanted to own a scooter.  But like lots of things I have always wanted to do, I never quite got around to it in the UK.  Most probably because of the constraints with the weather.  How often would I be able to take her out?  Would I want to scoot through the cold Yorkshire winters?  A categorical ‘no’.  But frequent travels in Asia, regular trips to Italy, and reading the Peter Moore books (www.petermoore.net/) about his adventures on numerous Vespas stoked the fire that burned inside.

And serendipity played a large part too.  My first months accommodation in Sydney was secured via the www.airbnb.co.uk website and I was staying with a fellow UK expat, StephWana.  Steph had just taken the scooter learners course and bought a scooter.  Seeing her buzz off on that to visit friends sealed the deal for me.  Before you could say, where’s my helmet, I had booked the 2 day course online and was counting down the days.

Despite almost missing the start of the course, due to some flaming gallah directing me to the wrong bus stop, I navigated the course successfully.  The day after completion had me sitting the theory test and walking out the proud holder of a learners motorcycle licence.  Being able to ride a bike up to 600cc believe it or not.  I now have to carry “L” plates for a minimum of 3 months, “P” plates for 12 months, then I have full licence.  Until that point I am unable to have even 1 beer (zero tolerance) or carry passengers.  But beyond that point I am able to carry who I want and get blazing drunk in the saddle.  Mum, that’s a joke, don’t worry.

Other than scooting around the North Shore and exploring the Northern Beaches the other activity that has brought a big smile to my face is the resumption of my weekly 5 a-side outings.  I still wonder on a Tuesday night how Deemus and the boys have got on.  Whether they have maintained the winning streak against our nemesis, Sven, and the arch enemy.  Thursdays come and go and I still get the emails from Mr Ryan Price laying out the teams for the game at the Shay stadium.  Miles and miles away and yet I still yearn to play in those games.

So now, I have a run out on Saturday mornings with a very polyglot bunch of guys.  Brazilians, Australians, English and the odd waif and stray.  One thing I am still getting used to is playing in such heat.  For the first time in my life I look forward to my few minutes break playing in goal.  No, it’s not an age thing!  It’s the heat.  It is.  Honest.  And the thought that drives me on?  The cold beers that I know are nestling amongst the ice in the blue esky I can spy at the side of the pitch.  I just need to remember, no scooting about after, I need to keep my licence.

That’s about all for today folks.  It’s Wednesday and I need to make the most of my remaining week of freedom.  The beach awaits with the words of a great song in my ear, “…just don’t forget the sunscreen”.

Adios.