THE SYDNEY SCENE

Holly and John with their new friend

THE SYDNEY SCENE

Okay, so we have not met blogging requirements for actually blogging as you go along.

But we have taken old-fashioned notes in a moleskin notebook (they claim Hemingway used to use such books for his short stories) and it slips in your back pocket so you can easily update whatever jottings fit the moment.  I’ve got 135 pages of notes, some of which only I could possibly read.

We are in Botany the night before our travel back east across the Tasman Sea en route to the International Date Line to San Fran and Dulles and back to work in Virginia.

We are at the Captain Cook Hotel and, as I entered on Sunday evening, I noted that the adjoining bar has topless waitresses, and asked Holly if she’d considered this fact when she booked this hotel; she said, “You know they don’t work Sunday night.”   True enough.

By way of summary, Sydney is a happening place, just exploding, original architecture, imaginative events, revived old neighborhoods, and the harbor captures the curious child in the most hard-nosed travelers.

We changed our lodging four times since we disembarked the Sea Princess on Monday at the Sydney Port. 

It may not sound like fun but it was searching for lodging in between doing other things in what is the spring-summer high season in Australia.  It made you feel that you were part of the back-packing community, nodding to passersbye on the street, weighted down with their “stuff,” looking for their next night’s home, although we stayed in doubles with tv, wifi, etc., and that’s not where most of the backpackers find themselves. 

When I ran in the morning, I’d take my papers (passport, credit card and map) and drop in if the places I saw looked interesting.  We got to see several great neighborhoods this way. 

Holly and I each had a big bag and two carry-ons with whatever else we needed.  So we made the move once we had a place pretty efficiently.  The only place that was set somewhat before we arrived was our last night with the modestly dressed waitresses at the adjoining restaurant.  Holly confessed she had not known that fact, the topless aspect, when she booked.

We could only get a taste of Sydney much less Australia in the brief interval we allowed ourselves.  We still planned three out of the City adventures and others in and close to the City.  We thought shoe leather and using it was the best tact to see as much as possible.

FEATHERDALE

On our Tuesday here, on 12/4/12, we left the City for nearby Blackton, a 40 minute ride from the Central Train Station, just blocks from where we were staying, traveling west of the city to visit the Featherdale Wildlife Park.

Again, it was how to see something we might not otherwise see and that would be near Sydney.

We’ve all seen Koalas at a distance – in pictures or videos – but not up close and personal.  Since we don’t have the time to consider whether we’d swim off the barrier reef up north, we thought we’d hug – if we could – a Koala instead.  Thus, the choice of Featherdale.

(Plainly, we didn’t get enough bush and wild animals in New Zealand – though I expect these Koalas will be quite used to people – and more accessible to touch at least.)

By the by, while I’m sitting waiting for our train, I noted a lot more tattoos, all about, can’t help but notice them, and quite elaborate drawings, brilliant colors, and large, on the arms, back of the neck, chest, shoulders, legs, ankles, wrists, feet, and I guess more places than I’ve been able to see.

But I’m most impressed, as I’m waiting, with this fellow with one of those underwear shoulder shirts, exposing an overarching cross at the top of his bare shoulder radiating broad emanations of light (lines) down his wide right arm, showering illumination upon an upwardly looking loving Jesus, seemingly pained by his fated destiny, reflected in his crown of thorns. 

(Imagine the ongoing meditation, in the seconds, minutes, perhaps even hours, as those images were inflicted with inky needles into his skin, and the physical inconvenience and pained commitment to have this “artful” memorial done to one’s flesh.  Did he consider having God or the Holy Spirit instead?    Why Jesus?  Does he subscribe to a Trinity (three manifestations of God in one), and, if not, and Jesus is not divine (as was the view of Thomas Jefferson), did this fellow navigate some spiritual acrobatics to make sense of it?  Of course, it’s as likely he just did it, on an impulse, got the tat, and has had not a single thought of its significance, religious or any other way, but that it looks “cool.”  And plainly modern religion, in its emphasis on Jesus, finds comfort and understanding with the conception of a God made flesh, you know, like us.)

Time to board. 

Featherdale was once a poultry farm and a private wildlife park since 1972, after fighting back developers who had other ideas how to use the land.

I mentioned Koalas but we also wanted to find another charismatic creature, Big Foot.

No, I’m serious.  Roos bear the latin name, “macropods,” and that means “Big Feet.”  Their tail is balance for hopping and fighting, and serves like a fifth leg when they are grazing.  Sure enough, when we arrived, and walked into the first enclosure, we met pointy nosed roos, wallabys.  We posed with them as they were walking and hopping all around us.  One female had a “joey” in her pouch, sucking at one of her four teats, in his home for the next 9-12 months, having crawled up mom’s stomach.

We then took off to hang out with the Koalas, another marsupial, seen on most ads and many postcards having to do with Australia.  They eat the leaves of my favorite wood tree, the rainbow trunked Eucalyptus, sleep 18 hours a day so we found several sleepy ones.  Like the roos, after 30 days of gestation, their young spend 7 months in the Koala’s pouch.  The Southern Koala is larger, with thicker fur, and the Northern smaller with paler grey and shorter fur.  They appear quite friendly and we patted several but were warned they could bite and have claws you have to respect.  Still we found them cuddly  We have other pix than above when we patted, petted and got closer to these adorable creatures..

We visited the endangered large eared nocturnal bilbees, Bondi coots, that look like mice and burrow.

There was also echidnas who remind you of porcupines with long snouts that make you think of platypus (-pi?).

We spent extra time watching the bonehead crushing  Tasmanian devils, a ferocious looking creature to behold.

We didn’t know there were albino Kangaroos, or that Dingoes appear to be as friendly as German Shepherds but we didn’t these this questionable premise.

A strange looking creature is the Wombat, a stubby square nosed furry gray creature that appears quite formidable and that we touched most gingerly.

Another longevity contender was a massive saltwater crocodile named Ngukurr, after the aborigine tribe where he was found on the Roper River in the Northern Territory.  As for evolution, crocodiles, we were told, haven’t changed in 200 million years.

THE SYDNEY OPERA

That evening, when we made our way back to Sydney, we went to the Sydney Opera.  You’ve seen it at a distance and Australia refers to it as a Sydney icon. 

It appears dramatically different and imposing when you get up close, when you approach the multi-sailed building, set off from the land by hidden walkways and shops and long extended ascending stairways that, at a distance, appear like sloping hills to the building. 

Holly reclined on the stairs at our approach to one of the sail shaped components of the Opera, and it was as if Holly was leaning back on a hillside, even a sand dune, part way up to the crest.

The categories of architectural and design surprises are the high ceilings, almost entirely glass walls, somewhat concealed stairways between levels, the play of light and shadow, with striking wall hangings, and sculptures.  The views from within and without are mesmerizing of the port, other parts of the building, the people gathering, talking, sitting, standing and walking. 

The food and drink vendors inside are in the round and elaborate and enticing with lots of crystal, lights, as well as well placed tables and benches nearby. 

The lights are arranged inside and out to show the architecture to dramatic effect.  

On some level, it made me think more of Lincoln Center than the Kennedy Center but both feel two dimensional by comparison.

You had somewhat of a sensory overload walking around the place, as there were creative and innovative choices almost everywhere. 

Even in the rest rooms, when you wash your hands, the water pours over your hands, and falls on this bright bronze colored metal that is shaped in waves and bends in such a way as to allow the water to wash over its contours channeled into an unseen drain, more like a river bed. 

Many were there for a ballet. 

We could have watched Swan Lake but we chose instead an Australian drama. 

The play, Signs of Life, is a continuation of the lives of characters from the world-renowned fiction writer, after Tim Winton’s  “Dirt Music” and the characters from that work, Luther Fox (Lu) and Georgie Jutland (Georgie).

The author, Winton, said in an interview, "Over the years, I've got used to the fact that characters from one book tend to pop up in later books at different times."

“Signs of Life” is set in the Moore River district, south of New Norcia, round Mogumber, Gin Gin, Moora.

It begins with a dark stage, only the sound of birds, wind, a windmill just chunking over; and the sound of an approaching car in the dark. 

Strangers who need petrol have come to call but we don’t find that out right away..

You can’t see Georgie, who runs an olive farm, but we don’t know that either, and she’s in the dark and gradually her outline becomes visible until she is seen in the dim light.

The play is set in the future after five years of drought and, at the outset, Georgie is suffering a drought herself.

Lu and his sister are aborigine and thus the contrast with Georgie, a white lady. 

Winton created, what he called, “the ultimate awkward social moment for her and for them."  She has lost her husband, a widow, buried him herself, unlawfully, and is lost without him.  They are looking for a farm and water to work an elusive farm.  They are lost.

There is strong, almost impossible, isolation, for each of the three characters and little to bind them at the outset.  It’s all very uncomfortable.

Lu and his sister are going to stay the night and then leave … but, as the play develops, they don’t.

The question everyone in the theater was silently screaming was, "Where's this going to go?"

The visitors, Lu and his sister, Winton says, are “inheritors of the stolen generation. They don't have any traditional links to country. They're coming back for family reasons that Georgie in the house doesn't know about."

There is also a spirit that speaks to Georgie of her husband and her loss and reveals how she might revive her will to live.

The contrasts work against each other until the barriers fall and each becomes compatible with each other, resolving a mutually agreeable companionship.

It was smart, fresh dialogue from an outstanding writer, striking notes we can all appreciate but set against an Australian backdrop with its cultural inflection.

THE BOTANICAL GARDEN

We let our travels unfold the next day and made for the Botanical gardens where they advise, “Please walk on the grass.”  We did past yellow cane and Eucalyptus stands, bronze statues, every kind of flora, past fountains and ponds.  I’m a big fan of the Botanical Gardens in the Bronx, and This rivaled that collection.  I climbed a broad limbed tree but was summoned to cease and desist and “come down now.”  It was quite polite.  Holly got some pix of the endeavor.  The park officer explained that these older trees can be harmed – so it was a precaution. 

We took a sunset cocktail cruise in the evening through the harbor.

THE BLUE MOUNTAINS

Any one you meet says you should visit the Blue Mountains.  This was a two hour train ride, and then a get on and off, at your discretion, bus ride to take trails through the forest to study sheer long dropping waterfalls and rolling intersecting mountain ranges, native parrots, and smoothly pock marked outcroppings that must have been shaped by glaciers and/or the sea, like an Atlantis that has re-emerged.

Oh yeah, Holly had a roo steak with an over-helping of vegetables.  I had a ¾ foot veggie berger that challenged my jaw’s ability to expand to bite the damn thing.

No matter the beauty or the value of this fragile environment, we still found carved initials in trees and nearby signs, on tables, signifying it’s not by accident that what’s beautiful and natural is at risk in this world.  Those who live in the moment, only to sate their own impulsive and destructive appetites, and there are many among this number, compromise us all.

KANGARIFFIC

We found a tour, Kangarific, run by Sam, to see more wildlife, eat Australian chocolate, cheeses and locally made wine.  We think that wine tasting is similar to wine drinking, just slower and more gradual in its salutary effect.  So we enlisted and met Sam and 9 others at the Y near the Central Train Station.

After our bus ride, we had a chance to hang out with more Roos and Koalas, a python, and assorted other animals we handled and touched and managed to get caught on camera.

We had chocolate and cheese tastings and wine of course, lots of wine, whites and reds, dry and sweet.

GOING HOME

Our only regret is that we saw so little.  On the other hand, you are welcome to use our experience as a starting point for your own traveling checklist -- should you take the leap and travel down under yourself.

While I haven’t discussed it here, I found reading the papers, watching local tv, and talking to the citizens of the New Zealand islands and of Australia quite fascinating.

If we didn’t think we were so great, so full of ourselves as Americans, and looked beyond our own borders to study what others were doing, we could make America more like the perfect society we always presume it is.

It is striking how much more Australians know about us than we know about them.  Their news discusses us a fair amount.  But we don’t really consider what they are doing.  Anyhow, we had the time we needed to get us out of our routine so that when we return we can do some of the same things we chose to do and must get done but approach them differently.