Reflections on a first stop

So, first, pictures! Here are the Sydney pics:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2135123&l=94f8c&id=1032

Now, a few reflections on Sydney itself. Maybe it's just the beautiful sunshine I've had while here... but Syndey seems like a shining city to me. It seems so clean. In many ways, it reminds me of home - like another Toronto or Vancouver (actually more Vancouver because of its glassy, modern skyscrapers). Many cultures all coexisting in a clean, modern, safe city. The public transit seems reliable and useful. The parks are clean and many. The waterfront beautiful. It has older sections (though old here means Victorian) and newer ones. It has pedestrian thoroughfares. It has a distinctive (and large) Asian population and area. Oh, and it also has homeless people (one of whom I think I saw peeing into a coke bottle on the sidewalk today. I didn't stop to ask him why).

I have relfected also on how I reacted to getting here and being here. Though perhaps it was not entirely obvious, I suffered greatly from jetlag. I am still adjusting to the time change, and I am only now getting any semblance of an appetite back. I found myself fatigued and disoriented, no more sure of where I was than what day it was (what day IS IT??). So that part was tougher than I anticipated. In the past I have shrugged off this thing people refer to as "jetlag."

I was also homesick. Yes, I know most people would have been bursting with excitement at the chance to visit Sydney. But simple, routine-oriented, comfort-seeking me sort of just wanted to go home. Home to my bed, home to my parents, home to my friends and the life that makes sense to me. But that, like the jetlag, is fading. I am adjusting, accepting. I wanted this year to be a challenge; I wanted my five days alone in Sydney to be a challenge. I got my wish and I think learned and grew from it.

I have enjoyed my time in Sydney and its environs. But I am done. Ready for my next stop. Tomorrow, Megan arrives and we fly to Adelaide. Good bye, Sydney; I hardly knew ye.

A lot of Sydney and a lot of thoughts

Today I walked. And walked. And walked and walked and walked. After a morning that is becoming startlingly routine, I set out from my hostel at around 9am. I walked through a very quiet Saturday-morning downtown to the old Sydney Observatory, a building as typically Victorian as so many are here. From there I walked through an older part of Sydney set in the shadow of the imposing Harbour Bridge, through a weekend market, and along the waterfront where tourists scurried around trying to find the right ferry to get them to wherever. I took my time exploring the Opera House. It is a strange building in a strange location, set apart from the rest of the city. The most notable aspect not otherwise appreciable in pictures is the quality of the exterior - the white is not solid but much more like the scales of a fish.

Anyhow, from there I continued along the waterfront through Sydney's immense Royal Botanical Gardens, acres and acres of prime, downtown, waterfront land set aside to preserve the natural beauty of the land. And what beauty it has. Trees and flowers and birds of kinds I've never before seen. And it was such a beautiful day.

After winding my way through the gardens, I walked through Hyde Park and what turned out to be some sort of feminist gathering (including some people who were apparently pushing for rights for sex workers with the slogan "Give 'piece' a chance"). Though tired, I pushed myself further, walking what turned out to be quite far to Kings Cross. Finding a seedy and busy area, I peaked around a bit and got out of there. I'll tell you, by the end of it I was exhausted. I finally got back to my hostel, put my feet up in a tiny bit of sun I found, and read.

I reflected a lot in my wanderings. It is natural to think about the city around me. First of all, I've come to believe that buildings here fall into one of three categories: Victorian, art deco, or utterly modern (typically glass skyscrapers). Other than the fact that Australia was founded and came of age under Queen Victoria, I have no good theories for why this type of pattern exists. I have also found that Sydney seems to have a wonderful waterfront. Someone deserves some credit for that (particularly from the perspective of the disappointing but full-of-potential waterfront in Toronto).

I have also been pondering something else today. I asked my one-day friend Emily yesterday which flags she'd seen displayed on people's bags. In her month of traveling and my few days, we both agreed that we had only seen Canadian flags on bags. It seems that no other nationalities choose to display their flag so proudly. I've seen a fair number of good ol' maple leafs. Despite the prevalence of Brits, I haven't seen any Union Jacks. No Stars and Stripes either. The reason I find this interesting is because as Canadians we often chide ourselves for not being sufficiently patriotic, certainly not as jingoistic and flag-waving as our southern neighbours. But maybe our self-criticism is misguided. Maybe we aren't that patriotic at home. Maybe we don't feel that we need to be. But I have yet to meet a Canadian abroad who isn't proud of being Canadian . There are even some Americans who put Canadian flags on their bags when they travel. We must have something pretty amazing if we're comfortable enough with our country at home simply to live in it while displaying our flag proudly when we're elsewhere. At least, that's my hope.

A walk and a one-day friend

Today I went with a guide from the hostel and a group of fellow hostelers on a walk from Coogee Beach to Bondi Beach. It was about 6 miles or so but took us about 2.5 hours because of much stopping along the way. It is a seaside walk that is mostly along cliffs and beaches. Each little cove seemed to have its own little beach. And of course each beach had its own locals, its own scene. Oh, and its own "Surf Life Savers Club." Very cute.

It was stunningly beautiful (though it was cloudy). The ocean here seems so much bluer than at home. Some places a deep, dark blue, and in others more of a light aquamarine. It crashes up on the rocks with such force. It reminded me a lot of a brief drive I took along California Route 1 some time ago.

In contrast to the blue of the water, the plants are so so green and the flowers so bright. It seems at times like it must be a tropical paradise. It certainly isn't reminsicent of the water-starved, desert-like outback that most of us picture as Australia (and is, in reality, about 80% of the continent).

I walked with Emily. I noticed that she was alone as we were leaving the hostel so I struck up a conversation. With great conversation, we stayed together the whole day. She is from California and after graduating from nursing she enlisted in the Navy. Among her years as an officer, she served in Iraq as a trauma nurse for six months. Now that she has been decomissioned (though remains in the reserves) she is taking six months and traveling from NZ (where she already spent a month), through Australia, Asia, and finally Europe. She was smart and thoughtful. What an interesting walking mate. It was so nice to have someone to talk to. She leaves to travel up the east coast tomorrow. So at the end of our day, I said good bye forever to my one-day friend.

The lone traveler (part 2)

Back in November, I wrote from Paris about being a lone traveler. I mused about the various positives and negatives of being in a foreign place on your own. Some of those remain true here in Sydney, but as it's quite a different place from Paris, there are other aspects.

I think the most pointed for me is just the fact that Sydney feels so much farther away than Paris ever did. Perhaps it is being in the Southern Hemisphere. Perhaps it is the extreme time difference. Or perhaps it is simply that Sydney is a helluva lot farther from Toronto than Paris is. So because I feel so much farther away, I feel that much more alone.

That being said, Sydney seems much more like home than Paris did. For one, it's English speaking. Also, the whole feeling of the city is much more North American than European (although I would argue that there is a huge Asian influence here, for obvious reasons). It is clean and seems relatively safe, though I admit that's a hard thing to grasp on a cursory glance.

I found some practical drawbacks of being on my own yesterday. I took the ferry from Sydney harbour to Manly Beach. It was a beautiful trip and I think I got some great pictures (although I am appreciating how much extra weight my kickass camera adds to my bag). The beach was stunning... the sand is much redder than I've ever seen, and the water bluer. I rented a beach chair and got comfortable. Around two hours in when I yearned for a dip in the ocean, I couldn't... couldn't leave the chair, couldn't leave my stuff. When I would've liked a trip to the washroom, nope. No food either. I sat there for four hours until I felt that I had had enough of lying in the sun. Then returned the chair, gathered up all my stuff, and went about my business.

Another drawback: sunscreen. There is an area of my back I seem to be unable to put sunscreen on. So, of course, it got searingly burnt. The contortions I did this morning to attempt to protect it would have made great comedy.

So, anyhow on some practical levels, it would've been really nice to have had a partner in crime. And I suppose on interpersonal, psychological levels as well. Always nice to share experiences with someone. But Megan will be here soon and our co-adventure will begin!

A first day... or days...

So I don't know what day it is. It could be Monday because I haven't actually gone to bed since Sunday night. It could be Tuesday because I know that my plane left Monday night and flew overnight into the morning sunrise. But then apparently it's actually Wednesday.

The flight is so long. Unbelievably long. And quite disorienting. You do in fact fly overnight into the morning sun... but you also cross the international dateline so what seems like one night has actually caused two days to pass, not one. But fear not, you get that lost day back when you fly home.

However, I was in a brand new Boeing 777 plane and even for Air Canada, it was lovely. Even the lighting was cool. Although I have to admit that walking through the first class cabin on your way into and out of the plane does put economy seating into stark perspective.

I arrived at my hostel around noon. It's big and bustling. People coming and going. All young. All packbackers. Some who look like they came and just never left. My room is nice, bare, but nice. Clean and spacious enough.

Instead of succumbing to my exhaustion, I decided that noon was far too early to go to bed so I headed out. Thoroughly enjoying the 24oC and sunshine, I explored Darling Harbour. This really is a beautiful city. It sort of reminds me of Vancouver, perhaps with a bit of Sarasota thrown in.

The highlight of the day was definitely the Aquarium. It had been one of the top things on my must-see list and as it was right there I just went right on in. They really did a great job of setting it up and there was one particular aquarium (er, oceanarium, they called it) that took my breath away. You walked through tubes that went through the water while sharks, manta rays, eels, turtles, and fish swam over and around you. I just sat and watched them for a while.

Now I'm back at the hostel. It's 6:40pm on Wednesday. I haven't had a real meal since Monday. I haven't had a real sleep since Sunday night. I think I'm just running on adrenaline. I'm sure it's obvious in my writing (apologies)...

Adieu for now from this slightly lonely, totally disoriented, Canuck in Sydney.

Another adventure!

I am off again on another adventure. In a few hours, I will board a plane. 21.5 hours, 9 time zones, and one international dateline later, I will arrive in Sydney. It should be noted, by the way, that I am going from Toronto where the temperature in the last week dipped down to -25oC to a place where it is forecast to be 25oC and sunny when I arrive.

I am going to be spending five days on my own in Sydney, exploring the city and likely the surrounding beaches. Then, Megan (a girl friend from high school) arrives and we head to Adelaide to see some of Australia's wine country. Then a surf camp, a stop in Byron Bay, and a few days in Brisbane. Three weeks total in Australia.

On March 25th, we fly from Brisbane to Christchurch, New Zealand. After a couple of days to get settled there, we are meeting up with a tour that will take us all through NZ's rugged terrain. Hiking the fox glacier, exploring caves, enjoying the beaches, everything. Three weeks later, we end up in Auckland, where our trip will draw to a close.

I am excited and nervous. Six weeks without more than five days in any one place is going to be whirlwind! But adventures are supposed to come with some risk and I know that this one will bring huge rewards!

California

I have spent much of this winter in California. No, not rubbing elbows with the stars or making millions in Silicon Valley or even enjoying the beautiful California sun on southern beaches - although those are certainly things one can do (or attempt to do) in America's most populous state. That's the thing about California, it is big and plentiful. It is an incredibly diverse place. Beaches, mountains, deserts, valleys, swamps, cliffs... You can drive for an hour, descending 6000 feet, from a blizzard-like snow storm in Alpine terrain to palm trees in a picturesque valley.

My experience of California this winter certainly has not encompassed the whole state but I have seen quite a bit. I have come to appreciate quite fully the immensity of the Sierra Nevadas. They rise from below sea level to over 9000 feet, jagged and challenging. The skiing there is technical and interesting. The lakes and forests and largely untouched and you can truly be alone in the wilderness.

We took a trip down to Yosemite National Park. We had to drive down into the foothills and fairly far south and then back up into the mountains. Gold rush country. Though quite near urban areas, there are towns there that are tiny, sleepy little places, busy only because a state highway runs through the town center. Between these dusty crossings, you find one of three things: rugged and seemingly untouched terrain, farms, or multi-million dollar homes.

Yosemite was one of the most amazing natural scenes I've seen. Yosemite Valley is an enormous valley carved by ancient glaciers. The rock formations are like out of a fantasy world. As you drive through, you pass boulders larger than houses that must have fallen in some past quake or rock slide. You pray you aren't there to witness one. You stand at the base of El Capitan, a 3000ft monolithic cliff face, and you understand exactly what 'small' means. These formations, trees, waterfalls, and boulders have been around longer than we have and will be around for much, much longer still. That too makes you feel small, a small blip in the history of the world.

Maybe all of California makes you feel small, with it's variety and magnitude. But I think feeling small is a sort of challenge. It's a challenge to prove that though you may be small, you can lead a big life.