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Published: December 22nd 2010
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I think we felt a little like the pit ponies used to when they finished their lives of confinement and stale air and were finally ‘put out to pasture’ … The apartment we are staying in over Christmas in Sydney has a laundry room bigger than the Spaceship© … hey, it’s got a laundry room! W and E couldn’t quite believe how much space there is for the four of us and they’ve got their own beds for the first (and last) time in five (and ten) weeks. I am still scooching down to the bottom of the bed in the morning, without taking any of the covers off Diana – you try it and see how hard that is – I remain unused to having headroom, at last. Diana has a collection of mirrors, a dressing table, multiple sockets for straighteners and stuff – she even felt moved to hang her clothes up!
We knew we were on to a winner when our taxi-driver from the airport asked us if we were staying in Russell Crowe’s apartment in the wharf development where we are living (check out Cowper Wharf Road, Woolloomooloo on Google Earth!) In fact, very generously, a parent
from our boarding house days is letting us use his place while he winters in the UK!? – but, we continue to keep an eye out for Russell. I thought I saw him yesterday, getting out of the pool within the complex; a bit on the chubby-side, I thought, but still with those rugged good looks … devious things, reflections! Yes – we have use of a pool, gym, car (!) and bodyboards and the apartment is so beautiful and well-located. Oh, and had I mentioned the space yet?
This wharf was one of the main points of entry for goods into Australia up until the 1970s and used to be surrounded by some of the roughest streets of Sydney. Well, the wharf is still there but pulled up alongside are the yachts and the cruisers of the rich and famous, rather than coal-ships … and the surrounding streets are decidedly up-market. We have a beautiful view across to the Harbour Bridge and the Botanical Gardens, and particularly enjoy watching the cockatoos and fruit-bats having their nightly dogfights. Inside, the building has been sensitively renovated with the guts of the building remaining the huge empty space that was once a
400m-long warehouse and the winch-gear and conveyor-belts still in place. It is remarkably quiet, considering its location.
We spent our first evening here unpacking, and then repacking so that Diana could take some photos without all our clutter around the place. Yesterday we walked through the Botanical Gardens to the iconic Opera House and bustling ferry terminal. Every corner brought another breath-taking view of the waterfront, or action out in the harbour. The gardens are wonderful; heady with the scent of Eucalyptus trees, full of weird and wonderful birds, cacophonous when the cockatoos and parakeets become agitated from their roosts and full of runners, strollers and sun-worshippers. Our first view of the Opera House did not disappoint … sat (seated for Jane R!) as it is, like some bizarre (for any other continent) multi-shelled rock-dwelling lizard. It is a creamy white, again giving it more of an organic appearance. A quick stop to watch the parties climbing the ‘coathanger’ Harbour Bridge and then we went to find out some information to plan the week ahead.
In the afternoon, once we had slapped on the factor 30, we headed out to Bondi Beach which was all we had imagined, without any
of the tat we had feared. Emily made friends digging in the sand and Diana got some much-needed and well-deserved beach-time (disturbed only by becoming an extra in the background of a documentary on the surf lifeguards, complete with a real rescue being made in the middle of the filming!) Meanwhile, W was out in the breakers with his Russian minder, catching some great rollers back into shore … with one or two memorable wipe-outs later on, as the waves grew stronger. Our trip back, with the assistance of the Tom-Tom, had been going so smoothly and we were only a couple of hundred yards from home when one wrong lane choice had us in a tunnel beneath the city, until we popped up a couple of kms the wrong side of the CBD. We eventually made it home after stocking up on food at the much-missed Woolworths … and there was no pick and mix in sight!
Day two started slow … with Diana off for a run, Peter using the gym and pool as W and E tackled ‘the horror’ and it got slower still when D discovered the Andrew ‘Boy’ Charlton Pool on the way back
from her run … a 50m salt-water pool suspended over the ocean; scene of many a world record in its day and recently revamped … I don’t know what it was that so captured Diana’s attention about the place. As she is still there whilst I write this, I hope that it was the sun-loungers scattered over the wooden promenade and not the large number of gay men sat, posing, on the side (as reputed by the Lonely Planet guide). Goodness knows what sort of clothes shopping trip she might get involved in otherwise.
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Susan Wales
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G'Day
Flipping freezing in Blighty. You don't know how lucky you all are. Super to read about Sydney - the first time I saw the Opera House it brought tears to my eyes. Thank you, once again, for an entertaining Blog.