Maybe you love the
city you live in, maybe you hate it, or perhaps its a love-hate relationship.
But we all crave to escape the concrete jungle once in a while. For some, the
hills offer solace, and for others its the beach. At times, persistent rain
day after day affects your spirits, or the freezing cold holds you
indoors. But what if you could live in a city which provides ample job
opportunities as well as a home perched on a ridge, with a white sandy beach
just a stroll away. Where the food is fresh, the sun is always shining and the
people are always smiling. And where the nightlife is rocking.
Mark
Twain described it best: "God made the harbour, and that's all
right: but Satan made Sydney"
Before I left for Australia for a
10 day trip earlier in June, a friend had told me, in carefully chosen
words, that Sydney is "freakishly beautiful". And it did turn
out to be so, unlike any place I have visited.
Armed with a map, and willing and eager feet, we started our
exploration of the city at Milsons' Point, a lookout at the northern end of the
Harbor Bridge. As we crossed the bridge on foot to the south side, I felt a tinge of disappointment. I thought this would
be the bridge to beat all bridges, but it was smaller than I expected. It didn't have the overpowering
presence of the Golden Gate, the majesty of the Tower Bridge, the buzz of
Brooklyn, or the character of Howrah. I was happy I had opted not to do the
bridge "climb" with the hefty price tag of 220 dollars apiece.
Our next stop was "The Rocks",
Sydney's original city center, full of cafes, art galleries and historic
buildings. I felt like I was strolling through some neighbourhood in
Europe. At the street market, Jyoti bought square stone coasters, hand-painted
with simple rustic scenes such as a bicycle parked in a yard, a vase by the
window sill etc. At the stroke of 11 am, a man dressed in a period costume appeared at
the crossroads, and advertised the opening of the adjacent café like they
probably did two centuries ago.
From the Rocks, we walked to Sydney's other
icon, the Opera House. This one too was smaller and less grand than
I expected. We then ambled in the Royal Botanic Gardens
before heading to Circular Quay, Sydney's hub for water transport,
to board the ferry for Manly Beach. As we sailed away from the docks, the
setting gradually grew on: the large expanse
of the Darling Harbor making deep inroads into the city, the changing profile
of the curvaceous Opera House, a couple of sailboats (in summer, there
might be hundreds) passing under the bridge, houses perched along
hillsides as far as eye could see.
Upon reaching Manly, we walked across
the 500 metre boardwalk towards the crescent shaped beach, which, as
someone has said is "Seven miles from Sydney and a thousand miles from
care". The boardwalk itself was an impressive collection of trendy stores,
sidewalk cafes, and art deco and classical buildings. We
had lunch at a beachfront Mexican restaurant, drinking cerveza, eating fresh
guac' n' chips and gazing into the water, melting our cares away. By the
time we returned back to Circular Quay, I had a different opinion of
the Opera House: it was a beautiful building, set beside a gorgeous
harbour and next to an iconic bridge. And its bold, revolutionary design
was apt for a new country forging its identity in the world.
We then walked to Darling Harbor, where we put our feet up,
ordered $5 beer / cider during happy hour,
and watched the docked boats swaying in the
breeze, and making ripples in the water as the sun went down. As darkness
set in, we headed back to the Opera House to see "VIVID",
a light and sound festival whereby buildings around Circular Quay
were illuminated by dynamic laser projections set to music. This was a unique show, with the interplay
of images on the Opera’s rounded surfaces being very impressive.
We had had a good day, and Sydney seemed a
very good city, but not as good as we had heard it was. It was not "freakishly"
beautiful.
Our view changed the
next day.
The plan was to walk and walk and
walk till we could walk no more. We started off with the world famous Bondi
Beach in the morning. It's nowhere close to a tropical paradise, but as
far as beaches within a city go, I can't think of any better. Crescent
shaped, gently sloping, little green hills at both ends, colourful
water, a slew of cafes and shops along the road running parallel to
the shore, no ugly skyscrapers around as in Miami or the Gold Coast,
surfers and runners with sculpted bodies,and everyone wearing a smile
(if not much else).
We then took
a bus to the Paddington / Darlinghurst area, a culturally
rich neighbourhood full of landmark buildings and cafes. We saw, among other
things, an old reservoir turned into a garden and art space, a building touted
to be the oldest villa in Sydney, the oldest bookstore in Sydney for Gay
literature, a courthouse, army barracks turned into an administrative center,
the Jewish Museum etc. The main thoroughfare here was Oxford Street, well
known as the hub of the gay community in Sydney.
Thereafter, a short train ride
then took us to the suburb of Newtown. Its main road,
Kings Street was lined with small houses influenced by Classical, Gothic or
Victorian architecture, and there was a surfeit of Thai restaurants
catering to students of the nearby Sydney University. Jyoti bought a chic
sling purse with some smartass comment printed on it at one of the local
stores.
From Newtown, we took a bus to the
Chinatown / Haymarket Area around dusk. Usually Chinatowns and
Little Indias across the globe look and feel quite similar. But this one was
different: more genteel and upscale than usual, and dotted with a few
fine dining options as well. (I haven’t really written anything
about food in this blog – see my previous blog on why I fell in love with the
food scene in Australia)
Once darkness fell, we strolled towards
the Central Business District, admiring the multitude of
attractive buildings all around: small churches, administrative offices,
courts, hospitals etc. We visited St Andrews Cathedral
for a few minutes, where there was a sermon going on (it was a Sunday) about the meaning of
marriage. A few minutes away was the massive St Mary’s Cathedral. It struck me
that neither had anyone recommended a
visit to this gorgeous building nor did we see it crop up in any brochures and
pamphlets, while St. Paul’s Cathedral in Melbourne, which was nowhere as
impressive as St Mary’s, is considered a must-visit while in the Victorian capital.
I was perhaps beginning to understand what Mark Twain
might have meant. Or to quote David Williamson
Our final stop of the
day was Kings Cross, the redlight district of Sydney. The seedy part was
confined to half a kilometer along the area’s main thoroughfare. Beyond that
there was a maze of streets dotted with backpackers’ hostels. Those who have
grown up in Bombay will be able to appreciate the most what we came upon next:
theatres called Metro and Minerva. The art deco lines of the former were very
close to its namesake in Bombay. It is all fine to see the Opera House
and the Harbour Bridge, but it’s a chance encounter like this during a random
walk that makes travel memorable.
There was a lot more
to explore, but our feet were hurting. To unwind, we ordered a bottle of wine
at a restaurant by the Kings Cross fountains. I was a touch sad about having to
go back to Singapore the next day: compared to Sydney, even one of the most
livable cities in the world seemed dreary. I did the unthinkable and declared,
to Jyoti’s horror, that Sydney was better than Rome, Paris or London. She
countered that part of the reason I loved it was that it had successfully
imported European architecture, food, fashion and lifestyle: there was an
inherent contradiction in stating that a remix was better than its original
source.
That was a strong
argument. Sydney is to an extent like Europe in Australia. But there is much
more to it. El sol. La Mar. La Playa. What more could one want?
