The flight to Darwin was uneventful. We arrived bleary eyed at about 7am local time on the 2nd of November, breezed through customs without hassle apart from a matronly looking woman - like a granmothered version of Dr. Doolittle who was very concerned about any foodstuffs being brought into the Northern Territory. I told her I had nothing to declare but the contents of my stomach, and that she'd have to kick me very hard in the nether regions for any kind of a close inspection.
We had a few hours to kill in the airport, a tiny non-descript warehouse of boredom and nothingness. I occuppied myself by perusing the morning papers which were full of excitement about the upcoming Melbourne Cup, the financial crisis of course, Rupert Murdock's series of lectures he was giving in the Opera House in Sydney, and a few great tabloid shock horror stories about killer crocs. Welcome to Australia. Dylan Moran has a fairly specific take on the place - I think its worth quoting him in full:
"It's a totally inhospitable place, you shouldn't be here, the sun, you live about three quarters of a mile from it, I've seen insects walking around with kneepads, you fling yourselves into the sea when you're not actually walking around audibly crackling in the heat and the sea is full of things designed exclusively to kill you, sharks, jellyfish, swimming knives, they're all there. But yet you persist in living here. So you know, its a jail, you live in, it's lovely, you've done wonderful things with it, but you're all still in denial"
The first time I heard that I actually really wanted to come here. When you grow up in a place where the only really exciting wild animals were reputedly exiled by your patron saint, you sort of begin to crave a bit of exoticism don't you? Crocodiles the size of milk vans, big great whites lurking in the bays, redback spiders hiding in your shoes waiting to venomise you, the top three most dangerous snakes in the world - all in one country - one continent for Christsake!! I was delighting in winding Sarah up about all of this of course..haha.
The short hop down to Sydney was again, a dreary affair. Crap food, fake smiles, recycled air, hassle, waiting around, trying to guess the age/occupation/sexual persuasion of all your fellow passengers from their shoes and carry on luggage.
We were surprised at the gate at Sydney Airport by Jim and Lorraine - Sarah's uncle and his partner. We knew that they were coming to meet us, but hadn't expected to see them until we had our luggage collected. Jim has been in Oz since the early 80's, and it was great to have two smiling and welcoming faces to greet us and drive us into the city. Jim had very (very) kindly booked us into a hotel in the CBD and they dropped us off there.
The Menzies on Carrington St is an old but refined hotel. The lobby smells like fresh aftershave, most nights there's a live pianist in the bar, there is a gym and pool and we were placed in a position call it home for the next 6 nights courtesy of a couple I had hardly met before. I was liking Oz already.
So we settled in and wandered out into the city towards the Rocks - the now commercialised quarter of what was the sight of the initial city settlement, perched on a natural elevation and blessed with view of that spectacular harbour. It was cold, so cold in fact there was a danger that our first brandishing of dollars in anger was to be to purchase wooly jumpers! The horror! We couldn't stomach it, so walked around fresh off the 'boat' in our bermuda shorts with vacant grins. After catching our first glimpse of the Opera House we retreated to the comfort of the hotel. Later a brief ramble to the nearest bar for a drink proved a mistake - a heaving Irish bar full of leprechauns jigging around to some gobshite in a Kilkenny jersey knocking out bad Snow Patrol covers - we could easily have been anywhere at home, so we lorried our overpriced drinks and ran out pronto.
Next morning, (or mid afternoon in fairness - jetlag) we found an internet cafe and did some research on potential employment. Being suddenly surrounded by scurrying and frowning drones in suits put the fear of God in me. "Christ I have to get a job at some stage - I better get me CV together". I soon came to my senses and got the hell out of there (after sending off a few applications I must admit!).
Afterwards we got in touch with an old housemate of mine, Colin, who was living up on Dee Why Beach in the northern suburbs. We arranged to meet at Manly and caught the ferry from Circular Quay as dusk was settling on the harbour. Now I've seen some views before, but this was truly special. The great looming bridge to our left, the Opera House like a giant series of sea shells perched on the shoreline to our right.
Colin greeted us with a satisfied smile that said a lot about his experiences in the year since I had said goodbye to him and wished him luck outside our house in Raheny. He has surfed and snowboarded his way around the globe, and if you know Col, and could believe it, was even more laid back and relaxed than I had known him before! It was great to see him and we grabbed some food and a few pints in the Manly Boatshed over a few games of pool before catching the last ferry back to the city. It felt fantastic to see the harbour at night - the glassy water reflecting the city lights, the excitement of our year to come. New city, new jobs, new friends, new life.
Up late again the following morning and I made some use of the hotel gym before heading out and catching a bus to Bondi Beach. It was Melbourne Cup day and we sidled into a bar on the beach front to watch 'Viewed' win the race. We had planned to do the 10k coastal walk south along the cliffs to Coogee Beach and set off in mid afternoon. We were impressed by the suburbs en route, and the beaches with surf clubs, some dating from the early 1900's reassured us of a well established culture of beach bum-dom!! Through the Waverly Cemetary - a stark visual reminder of the sheer amount of Irish who have passed through and along (and indeed on) in the city.
After about 2 hours we reached Coogee. The wind had picked up from a bluster to a toupee remover, so we hopped a bus back to the CBD.
Over the following days we explored a bit more taking in a tour of the Opera House, a good stroll around the magnificent botanical gardens that lie just adjacent to it and pints in the only 'real' pub we could find in the city (Harts in The Rocks). The Australain Hotel around the corner from this place definitely deserves a mention - great pub grub and a huge selection of bottled and draft beers. Sarah was getting back into her wine with gusto - it had been nigh impossible to find decent (reasonably priced) wine in SE Asia and she was suffering withdrawal! Darling Harbour,lined with bars and restaraunts also got a visit, as did the Museum of Contemporary Art on the harbour front. We did a fair bit of walking along the parallel George and Pitt streets that bisect the CBD too to get a feel for the place.
Jim had agreed to give us a hand in buying a car for our impending road trip - its damn difficult to pick up a car without a car in the first place! In one morning, after plenty of research, we called into your stereotypical dodgy second hand car salesman ('Sydney Car King' - be warned future backpackers he's slippery as a very slippy eel) and bought that quintessential of Ozzy road trip vehicles - a hulking white '95 Holden Commodore. Its big enough to sleep in, if it ever comes to it!
We had checked out of the luxury accommodation, loaded the car and drove the 40km through the city to Manly where we stayed in a kip of a hostel (Manly Beach Backpackers) for a few days. Back to earth with a bang!! Manly is fairly quiet, but a beautiful spot nonetheless. I could easily live there. The main street - the 'Corso' is curbed at either end by the sea - the sprawling Manly Beach at one end, and the pier at the other. That night we caught a bus up to Dee Why for a BBQ with Colin in the apartment he shares with his sister. We watched some of the Rugby League World Cup before grabbing a lift back with some of Col's mates to Manly.
On the following afternoon, a Sunday, Jim and Lorraine picked us up from the hostel and we drove to Neutral Bay. It was Sarah's birthday, so we celebrated with a BBQ in Oaks Bar there, a spot of some history for our hosts. The beer garden is dominated by a huge oak tree. The atmosphere was great and as the sun dappled through those leaves and onto our table and we got stuck into our steaks and barramundi over a few bevvies I thought to myself, this is a bit of alright.
From there we drove to a decommissioned military base, Cobblers Beach Reserve at Middle Head. From the top of the old gun emplacements there is a great view out between the headlands and into the open ocean. Then on to Balmoral Beach, a beautiful cove that is bisected by a small headland, for a few drinks at the Bathers Pavillion. It was a great way to spend Sarah's birthday, and we both really enjoyed the company and sights. We rounded off the day ourselves with dinner in a BYO restaurant on the Corso back in Manly.
The following morning I found the saltwater pool at the end of the beach front and did a few lengths before reading on the beach for a few hours. Sarah had taken the morning ferry back into the city to get her hair cut, so I had the afternoon to myself. I wandered up the main street, grabbed some lunch and ate it on the pier end, at the quieter beach along Fairlight Walk. I strolled up the walkway from there, found a few cosy spots with benches and read again until I saw Sarah's boat chugging around the headland and into the pier. Back from her retail therapy/ makeover she was in great form and we had dinner in Cafe Brisa another 'bring your own' - (booze that is!). Colin joined us again, and we had a few farewell beers in the Boatshed and Ivanhoe's. The big road trip was to begin the following morning, and I fell asleep with that indescribable contentness that accompanies thoughts of the open road ahead.
We had a few hours to kill in the airport, a tiny non-descript warehouse of boredom and nothingness. I occuppied myself by perusing the morning papers which were full of excitement about the upcoming Melbourne Cup, the financial crisis of course, Rupert Murdock's series of lectures he was giving in the Opera House in Sydney, and a few great tabloid shock horror stories about killer crocs. Welcome to Australia. Dylan Moran has a fairly specific take on the place - I think its worth quoting him in full:
"It's a totally inhospitable place, you shouldn't be here, the sun, you live about three quarters of a mile from it, I've seen insects walking around with kneepads, you fling yourselves into the sea when you're not actually walking around audibly crackling in the heat and the sea is full of things designed exclusively to kill you, sharks, jellyfish, swimming knives, they're all there. But yet you persist in living here. So you know, its a jail, you live in, it's lovely, you've done wonderful things with it, but you're all still in denial"
The first time I heard that I actually really wanted to come here. When you grow up in a place where the only really exciting wild animals were reputedly exiled by your patron saint, you sort of begin to crave a bit of exoticism don't you? Crocodiles the size of milk vans, big great whites lurking in the bays, redback spiders hiding in your shoes waiting to venomise you, the top three most dangerous snakes in the world - all in one country - one continent for Christsake!! I was delighting in winding Sarah up about all of this of course..haha.
The short hop down to Sydney was again, a dreary affair. Crap food, fake smiles, recycled air, hassle, waiting around, trying to guess the age/occupation/sexual persuasion of all your fellow passengers from their shoes and carry on luggage.
We were surprised at the gate at Sydney Airport by Jim and Lorraine - Sarah's uncle and his partner. We knew that they were coming to meet us, but hadn't expected to see them until we had our luggage collected. Jim has been in Oz since the early 80's, and it was great to have two smiling and welcoming faces to greet us and drive us into the city. Jim had very (very) kindly booked us into a hotel in the CBD and they dropped us off there.
The Menzies on Carrington St is an old but refined hotel. The lobby smells like fresh aftershave, most nights there's a live pianist in the bar, there is a gym and pool and we were placed in a position call it home for the next 6 nights courtesy of a couple I had hardly met before. I was liking Oz already.
So we settled in and wandered out into the city towards the Rocks - the now commercialised quarter of what was the sight of the initial city settlement, perched on a natural elevation and blessed with view of that spectacular harbour. It was cold, so cold in fact there was a danger that our first brandishing of dollars in anger was to be to purchase wooly jumpers! The horror! We couldn't stomach it, so walked around fresh off the 'boat' in our bermuda shorts with vacant grins. After catching our first glimpse of the Opera House we retreated to the comfort of the hotel. Later a brief ramble to the nearest bar for a drink proved a mistake - a heaving Irish bar full of leprechauns jigging around to some gobshite in a Kilkenny jersey knocking out bad Snow Patrol covers - we could easily have been anywhere at home, so we lorried our overpriced drinks and ran out pronto.
Next morning, (or mid afternoon in fairness - jetlag) we found an internet cafe and did some research on potential employment. Being suddenly surrounded by scurrying and frowning drones in suits put the fear of God in me. "Christ I have to get a job at some stage - I better get me CV together". I soon came to my senses and got the hell out of there (after sending off a few applications I must admit!).
Afterwards we got in touch with an old housemate of mine, Colin, who was living up on Dee Why Beach in the northern suburbs. We arranged to meet at Manly and caught the ferry from Circular Quay as dusk was settling on the harbour. Now I've seen some views before, but this was truly special. The great looming bridge to our left, the Opera House like a giant series of sea shells perched on the shoreline to our right.
Colin greeted us with a satisfied smile that said a lot about his experiences in the year since I had said goodbye to him and wished him luck outside our house in Raheny. He has surfed and snowboarded his way around the globe, and if you know Col, and could believe it, was even more laid back and relaxed than I had known him before! It was great to see him and we grabbed some food and a few pints in the Manly Boatshed over a few games of pool before catching the last ferry back to the city. It felt fantastic to see the harbour at night - the glassy water reflecting the city lights, the excitement of our year to come. New city, new jobs, new friends, new life.
Up late again the following morning and I made some use of the hotel gym before heading out and catching a bus to Bondi Beach. It was Melbourne Cup day and we sidled into a bar on the beach front to watch 'Viewed' win the race. We had planned to do the 10k coastal walk south along the cliffs to Coogee Beach and set off in mid afternoon. We were impressed by the suburbs en route, and the beaches with surf clubs, some dating from the early 1900's reassured us of a well established culture of beach bum-dom!! Through the Waverly Cemetary - a stark visual reminder of the sheer amount of Irish who have passed through and along (and indeed on) in the city.
After about 2 hours we reached Coogee. The wind had picked up from a bluster to a toupee remover, so we hopped a bus back to the CBD.
Over the following days we explored a bit more taking in a tour of the Opera House, a good stroll around the magnificent botanical gardens that lie just adjacent to it and pints in the only 'real' pub we could find in the city (Harts in The Rocks). The Australain Hotel around the corner from this place definitely deserves a mention - great pub grub and a huge selection of bottled and draft beers. Sarah was getting back into her wine with gusto - it had been nigh impossible to find decent (reasonably priced) wine in SE Asia and she was suffering withdrawal! Darling Harbour,lined with bars and restaraunts also got a visit, as did the Museum of Contemporary Art on the harbour front. We did a fair bit of walking along the parallel George and Pitt streets that bisect the CBD too to get a feel for the place.
Jim had agreed to give us a hand in buying a car for our impending road trip - its damn difficult to pick up a car without a car in the first place! In one morning, after plenty of research, we called into your stereotypical dodgy second hand car salesman ('Sydney Car King' - be warned future backpackers he's slippery as a very slippy eel) and bought that quintessential of Ozzy road trip vehicles - a hulking white '95 Holden Commodore. Its big enough to sleep in, if it ever comes to it!
We had checked out of the luxury accommodation, loaded the car and drove the 40km through the city to Manly where we stayed in a kip of a hostel (Manly Beach Backpackers) for a few days. Back to earth with a bang!! Manly is fairly quiet, but a beautiful spot nonetheless. I could easily live there. The main street - the 'Corso' is curbed at either end by the sea - the sprawling Manly Beach at one end, and the pier at the other. That night we caught a bus up to Dee Why for a BBQ with Colin in the apartment he shares with his sister. We watched some of the Rugby League World Cup before grabbing a lift back with some of Col's mates to Manly.
On the following afternoon, a Sunday, Jim and Lorraine picked us up from the hostel and we drove to Neutral Bay. It was Sarah's birthday, so we celebrated with a BBQ in Oaks Bar there, a spot of some history for our hosts. The beer garden is dominated by a huge oak tree. The atmosphere was great and as the sun dappled through those leaves and onto our table and we got stuck into our steaks and barramundi over a few bevvies I thought to myself, this is a bit of alright.
From there we drove to a decommissioned military base, Cobblers Beach Reserve at Middle Head. From the top of the old gun emplacements there is a great view out between the headlands and into the open ocean. Then on to Balmoral Beach, a beautiful cove that is bisected by a small headland, for a few drinks at the Bathers Pavillion. It was a great way to spend Sarah's birthday, and we both really enjoyed the company and sights. We rounded off the day ourselves with dinner in a BYO restaurant on the Corso back in Manly.
The following morning I found the saltwater pool at the end of the beach front and did a few lengths before reading on the beach for a few hours. Sarah had taken the morning ferry back into the city to get her hair cut, so I had the afternoon to myself. I wandered up the main street, grabbed some lunch and ate it on the pier end, at the quieter beach along Fairlight Walk. I strolled up the walkway from there, found a few cosy spots with benches and read again until I saw Sarah's boat chugging around the headland and into the pier. Back from her retail therapy/ makeover she was in great form and we had dinner in Cafe Brisa another 'bring your own' - (booze that is!). Colin joined us again, and we had a few farewell beers in the Boatshed and Ivanhoe's. The big road trip was to begin the following morning, and I fell asleep with that indescribable contentness that accompanies thoughts of the open road ahead.
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