March 9-12: Sydney, Australia, by Cathy

3/9: Friday
Logistically, getting from Auckland to Sydney was easy, as was the Uber trip to our Potts Point/King’s Cross Airbnb. Emotionally, leaving New Zealand was kinda hard.

The weather, the physical beauty, the welcoming, friendly people are all factors, but there’s something else, something I can’t quite put my finger on. I’ve heard several people describe New Zealand as being like the US in the 1950s. While not having lived through the 50s, I think this comparison is because the pace is slower, technology is limited and less emphasized, cities are small (too small for sprawl), traffic is due to road work rather than congestion, and people stop and talk to one another. I’m not romanticizing when I say this. We witnessed it. When Jeff and I say things like, “When I was little, we just went outside and didn’t come home until dinner-time,” I feel (besides old) like that’s what I’m leaving behind in New Zealand. A simpler (-seeming anyway) environment. As Peter Jackson said, “New Zealand is not a small country, but a large village.” The bar is definitely set high for Australia.

On our ride from the airport, our Uber driver gave us a little insight into the colorful history of our new ‘hood – sex, drugs, and organized crime (Jeff booked this place, FYI)!

The organized crime is linked to the Ibrahim family, in particular “Teflon John,” so named because of his ability to avoid prosecution for the alleged illegality of his myriad operations. Intrigued, I Googled ol’ Johnny and found all kinds of stuff, including the mini-series our driver had mentioned, “Underbelly: The Golden Mile” as well as a recently published autobiography, Last King of the Cross. Also, he looks like this:

It sounds like several factors, including gradual gentrification and the lockout laws instituted in 2014 to reduce alcohol-related violence in the area, have now tamed the neighborhood considerably. Still, after we got settled in, Jeff and I went out to canvas the area, make sure it was safe to leave our child at home alone (which he was). After careful surveillance of the local establishments and some tedious under-cover work at one of the many local pubs, we determined we were not in any danger and proceeded to Woolworth’s for groceries.

3/10: Saturday
In the morning, Jeff went on one of his exploratory runs while Mick did school work and I did transcription work. In the early afternoon, we walked down the stairs at the end of our court, just steps from our apartment’s front door, and headed out for a long walk. Our first stop was to Harry’s pies – a much-recommended, but in my opinion overrated, Sydney institution.

We continued along the waterfront /Cowper Wharf Road and walked up and down the Finger Wharf, checking out many busy, restaurants serving lunch and drinks outside.

The Finger Wharf /Woolloomooloo Wharf is the longest timbered-piled wharf in the world, completed in 1915 and over the years it was used for exporting wool, staging troops for deployment during the World Wars, and as a landing point for migrants arriving in Australia. Today it houses apartments, restaurants, and a hotel.

Eventually we rounded a corner and spied the Sydney postcard (or Instagram depending on your age) – the Opera House and Harbor Bridge.

We walked through the expansive, immaculate Botanical Gardens, around the opera house and wharf area, and through the happenin’ area of “The Rocks” (the long-ago home of convicts, so named because of the rocky area on which it was built), where we rested our feet a bit.

From The Rocks we walked over the bridge for a fantastic view of one cruise ship leaving port and another coming in.

Our return route took us through some of the downtown area and another section of the Botanical Gardens and when we got home, we felt like we’d covered a lot of ground.

After a brief recovery period, Jeff went to Woolworth’s for taco fixings and over dinner we watched a really interesting YouTube documentary on gemology that I’d found for Mick.

3/11: Sunday
Another sunny, warm (but not too warm) day to spend walking – this time from Bondi (i like eye) Beach to Coogee (g like Bee Gees) Beach. Along this much-traveled 3.5-mile route, we stopped for lunch at Tamarama Beach (nicknamed Glamorama Beach for obvious reasons) and for swims at both Bronte Beach (big, crashing waves!) and Gordons Bay (better for snorkeling than swimming). Coogee was similar to Bondi, in terms of crowds, but I liked the more laid back, less showy setting better. Before calling our Uber ride back to Potts Point, walked through Coogee (part of the City of Randwick). We all agreed that Sydney’s beaches (and the hard-bodied, sun-kissed people occupying them) are beautiful.