What an exhausting trip we have had, as for Sydney what can I say.
Busy, large, colourful, vibrant, surviving.
The last time I stayed in Sydney was in 1985, that was for all of 3 days as my eyes turned red raw and I couldn’t breath. Not much has changed, sorry Sydney I think I am allergic to you.
We arrived late which didn’t help your cause, a 3 hour or so flight from Perth, arriving at the ridiculous time of 7am. What we did have though was an amazing friendly Taxi driver who approached us at the airport baggage carousel, it wasn’t till after that I saw signs saying don’t go with taxi hawkers as they may not have insurance.
Ho hum, too late. But I tell you he was worth it even though he was $10 more than the shuttle service. He delivered us to the hotel safely, and collected us for our trip on the way back to the airport with the utmost style, friendliness and riveting conversation. We found out on the trip back that we had so much in common, that is if you are into renovating cars. Of which he has three, used to have four but has since parted with one. A car enthusiast would understand as they are like your babies, and you wouldn’t want to part with one of them would you?
He was so well spoken, polite and eager to chat, now you need to know that I for one can’t shut up and talk to absolutely anybody that will listen to me, anybody and every one of which he was no exception to my chatty talents and of course charm. He has been in Sydney for many years arriving as a youngster with his family. He restores and sells old cars, we got to see photos on his phone and chatted about cars, Michael and he were in chatty heaven. Of which I found fascinating as I got to pick up man lingo such as, check book cars (which means you pay someone to do the restoration for you) and why not, it’s a damn site faster. Of course we didn’t find out all about this till the trip back to the airport as Michael takes a while to warm up, and as previously said Michael probably wouldn’t be able to get a word in as my mouth tends to run away without me.
What do I like about Sydney?
Well for a start it’s not the hotel, the Seasons Darling Harbour. I am clearly just too plain well fussy, (my other nickname is Princess) housekeeping according to Brittany wasn’t up to much, they found a dirty old sock behind their sofa cushion and their bathroom wasn’t clean either. Urgggghhhh!!!!!
|Looks promising right, WRONG. Staff were awesome though. A bit noisy to xx|
The water pressure was pretty crap as well, people, it just takes longer to get the shampoo out, man up and give us some pressure, or perhaps the plumbing is to old to cope with the likes of me and mine. Positioning was great, just before the bridge to the Darling Harbour entrance. So our legs did lots of walking as you do when on holiday.
|I know this isn’t Darling Harbour it is the rocks, but I reckon the bridge is a dead give away that you are in Sydney.|
One other thing you should know about me or may have probably guessed, I don’t pay much attention to geographical business, and got lost, yes lost in a strange city, (not terribly smart either) I am either too busy looking up out and around to take any notice of street signs, can’t read a map to save myself, or make my way out of a paper bag.
I left the hotel around 4.30ish to buy some milk and hopefully a bottle of red. Well I forgot to take my phone as I had left it charging, so couldn’t phone home for some help. I went up and down around and round, circling and retracing my steps, it’s getting darker and colder, amazingly I am not the slightest bit concerned, to tired to think straight. I am getting wearier and wearier. I looked around me at the confident people making their way home after work, lucky you I thought, will I ever make it back to the warmth of the hotel again. Also I never did find the bottle shop, day isn’t going well. You may notice I wasn’t concerned about getting the milk.
After an hour and a half of aimless wandering, I sized up a friendly looking woman at the lights and said, ‘I don’t suppose you know where Sussex street is do you? ‘Know sorry she said but I do know this is Essex St’. You guessed it I also had the wrong street name.
I returned back to the Hotel after I stopped doing bog laps around the wrong block and just walked across the next set of lights and Ta Da there right in front of me was where I was meant to be.
What struck me most about Sydney is that apparently people don’t know how to cross roads as on every corner clearly marked on the road is either, Look Right, Look Left or Look both ways. Guess they have run over a fair few pedestrians in their time, I can see me being one of them.
|Seriously one on ever intersection, corner and lights.|
I worked very hard at waiting at the signals for the green crossing man allowing me to move forward, that is except for one time when I just plain forgot, thankfully it wasn’t around the rocks where the police were out in droves catching naughty people who were doing the wrong thing. It’s not like you could miss them as they had their Motor Bikes Parked on the pavement with their blue light flashing like at a blue light underage disco, that used to be popular, not so much now as the Police I don’t think have the funds or time anymore to interact with the community in such a manner, pity really. As is said could have been me though, crossing incorrectly, in my defence, not intentionally. You know my family didn’t stop me either they just followed me, with eyes closed I assume, I can hear then tut tutting all the way.
More to follow