A week in Sydney

I arrived in Sydney just a few minutes behind the girls. Siân and Rachel had gone the opposite way round the globe to get to Sydney, changing planes in San Francisco and Los Angeles - with no more than an hour in each airport between flights. I don't envy them at all (but I did take delight in telling them about my 12 hour stop-over in Hong Kong). It was about 7 in the morning, and it was already over 20 degrees outside the airport. Once we were clear of the terminal building, we were greeted by palm trees, sun, and the promise of a glorious few days in the unofficial capital of Australia.

It turned out to be the hottest day so far in what is only really the beginning of Spring in Australia. Temperatures in the heart of Sydney reached 35 degrees - which was paradise compared to the hottest day I can remember of my Scottish summer (an abismal 26 degrees with rain and wind). We headed straight for Sydeny Harbor, and the panoramic views of the Opera House and the Bridge were just as you've seen them in pictures. There were very few people out and about... a few tourists, an aborigine on the digeridoo (accompanied by the less than traditional drum & bass backing beat), and a few locals who had come to the water's edge to cool off. We dipped our toes in the the cool harbour waters and went off into the Botanical Gardens which make up a huge proportion of the city's centre.

At first glance, Sydney appears a lot like many British cities. The flora and fauna seem familiar, the cars are on the right (correct) side of the road, and there is a mixture of tower blocks and department stores which you would expect to find in any central business district. But looking closer, everything is startlingly different. The black-and-white birds in the trees are not magpies but piping shrikes. The white birds circling overhead are cockatoos and not seagulls. The birds around the ponds which seem to be geese from a distance are in fact ibis. And in amongst the nearly-familiar pines and spruces are an abundance of fig trees, palms, and exotic and strange plants which you would not believe should exist (more about them later)

Another sure way of knowing that we are not in Kansas anymore are the attitudes of everyone we meet. From the trucker who stops to comment on a tattoo and ends up spending 25 minutes telling us about his secret creek a few hundred miles north of Sydney (on our route up the coast) to the random strangers who hear our obviously perplexed and touristic questions to each other and feel obliged to interject with advice and wisdom that has made our time so far a lot more enjoyable, rewarding, and less stressful. Everyone is only too happy to help, whether that means driving us 2 hours into the mountains to find a good camping spot for us, or just giving us directions to the best local pub!

Oh - and Iron Maiden are coming here in February.

I think I'm going to like this place.