Posted on 01/15/2018 5:14:55 AM PST by SandRat
"…a parallel universe where life was at once recognizably similar
but entirely different." Bill Bryson, "In a Sunburned Country"
Part One: Tucson to Sydney
Day one and two and three: My husband (Ted) and I left Tucson at 5:30 Thursday night, arriving in Sydney, Australia, on Saturday morning at about 6. It was a very long Qantas flight out of Los Angeles and, sometime during the night, we lost Friday, which happened to be my brother’s birthday. Before we’d left Arizona, I told him that our going over the International Date Line meant he’d never have to age, at least this year. I don’t think he bought it.
Things had changed since the last time we’d flown to Australia. For a start, the bug police no longer felt they needed to come through the aircraft and spray us before we could disembark. Officials were, however, extraordinarily picky about bringing in food of any sort, including packaged snacks we were given on the plane.
With no food, but with all our luggage (hurrah!), we arrived at our hotel about 8 a.m., grateful that the driver was used to driving on the left-hand side of the road and that we didn’t have to attempt it on the few hours of sleep we’d had on the plane. We were pleasantly surprised to find our hotel room ready for us. Determined to try to adjust to the time difference (about 18 hours), we decided not to nap but simply unpacked, showered and, with clean clothes and clean teeth, headed out to walk to the Sydney Aquarium.
Our hotel was nicely situated for walking around the oldest part of Sydney, called “The Rocks” for the sandstone it was built on and the buildings built from it. The street names are an intriguing mix of British (e.g., Kent) and Aboriginal (e.g., Coogee), and we found it relatively easy to get around, with the help of a nice map (yes, the paper kind) and the kindness of strangers. Sydney is a tourist destination from all over, though, and confusion reigned as to what side of the sidewalk to walk on. I guess it’s logical that we tend to walk on the same side we drive on, but that meant that locals walked on the left, while most foreigners walked on the right. Many of us walked into each other.
Darling Harbour, the Aquarium’s location, was packed. Turns out we had arrived on a three-day weekend (Labour Day), and families with kids were taking the opportunity, at the end of their winter school break, to enjoy the holiday. At the Aquarium, we pondered some local marine oddities, including placid, ever-eating dugong (similar to manatees), then made our way back toward the hotel, the lack of sleep catching up to us.
But our driver from the airport had told us that the Museum of Contemporary Art, near our hotel, had a lovely café with lovely views of the harbor and its famous opera house, and so we stopped for a late lunch and discovered he was exactly right. Along with terrific views, we had a terrific meal (Ted had barramundi, a mild fish the chef spiced up with grated bacon and cheese, and I had a potato and caramelized onion tart, served with a side salad of “rocket” (arugula) and smoked trout. It was altogether yummy, served with only a drizzle of olive oil as the dressing. We bought a few postcards and went back to the hotel, where we found that Australians would end their winter of Daylight Savings Time that evening, giving us an excuse to reset the clock and go to bed.
Day four: We refreshed our memories of Aussie English (for example, a parking lot is a car park; an elevator is a lift), and that made getting around a bit easier, but our breakfast buffets offered no coffee choices that we understood, save for “black.” We finally settled on “flat white,” with both “short black” and “long black” too intense, even first thing in the morning.
Food note: Our breakfast buffet always included Vegemite as a selection, alongside butter and jam packets. For the uninitiated, Vegemite is adored by Aussies and Kiwis (New Zealanders) …and by absolutely nobody else. It’s a fermented yeast paste (“High in B Vitamins!”), and bears close resemblance — in color, texture, and taste — to axle grease.
Melanie Mouras is a resident of Hereford.
Interesting. Australia is on the bucket list.
Australians are our cousins.
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