Cross-World Puzzle

Last View of Sydney...For Now

2008-09-18T20:08:00.001-07:00

I’ve put off this post for a long time because it’s probably the last one I’ll do about Sydney. I’ve been busy back at school and trying my hand at sports reporting for the Columbia Missourian. I am still looking for my next opportunity to go back to Oz. Until then, one final reflection:

I actually cried for the city.

The plane had just taken off and I began to recognize the landmarks below. I could point out Randwick Racetrack, Centennial Park and the Sydney Football Stadium first. Then it was easy to spot the gothic buildings and green ovals of Sydney Uni. I could see Hyde Park and the beaches beyond it. Then we reached the harbour. Wouldn’t you know it, the plane started to turn just then, dipping the wing so I could get a full view of the bridge, Opera House and skyline one more time.

That’s when the tears came.

I’d been sad earlier that week when my all my friends left before me. I cried a little after they were gone and at a few points during the next two lonely days. But when I choked up on the plane, I wasn’t thinking about the people I’d miss or how fast the semester had gone. I honestly cried because the city looked gorgeous and I knew I’d miss living it.

The harbour was unbelievably blue as always, freckled with white sails. The Opera House and bridge were perfectly centered in my window. I didn’t have a camera, but I won’t ever forget that image. I can’t emphasize enough how blue it was. The harbour, the ocean, the sky. This was a view of Sydney begging me to return.

The plane continue to turn and I got a head-on look at Darling Harbour, Circular Quay and the Botanical Gardens. I loved that I could spot everything so easily. I’d been all around the city and looked at maps more times than you’ll ever know. I could see the Anzac Bridge, Luna Park, Balls Head Reserve. I got one last view of Manly Beach and the North Head, and then it was ocean for the next 13 hours.

As much as I wanted to stay, I am completely satisfied with my trip. I set out to explore and I did. There’s always more to see and do, but I think I got to know the city better than most. Hopefully the posts here will encourage travelers, and even residents, to get out and see new parts of Sydney. Or any city. Just explore.

Walking Shoes

2008-09-07T13:43:00.000-07:00

Wherever I end up living, it needs to be walkable. Walking is definitely my favorite way to get around. And I don’t mind long walks because it just means there’s more to see along the way.

I loved walking in Sydney. It felt smaller and less overwhelming after the first week of exploring on foot. I realized it was only 15 minutes from my house to the mall on Broadway. Fifteen from there to Darling Harbour. Another 15 to Hyde Park, and by the end of an hour I could be at the Opera House or Botanical Gardens.

I walked to all the places people said were too far to walk to. A few miles to Paddington? No sweat. The walk back from Centennial Park? Got it.

I used public transportation enough, but I’m a bit impatient for all the stop and go. I’d rather keep walking, crossing on red and diagonalling through parks.

So walk I did. I can’t even imagine how much. I had to lay my denim Chucks to rest. I had those Converse high-tops since senior year of high school. I rotate through a few pairs of shoes, but these were the best for times when I knew I’d be walking a lot in the city. Even after the red soles were worn down and the backs had torn, I wore those shoes a few more times.

As much as I wish I didn’t have to, I left the ragged pair in Sydney. I think they would have wanted it that way.

One Last Exploration

2008-08-13T18:38:00.001-07:00

On my train ride to and from work twice a week I would pass Waverton Station, which has a big sign for Balls Head. After all the times I saw the sign and snickered, smirked or snorted at the name, I finally looked up Balls Head the last week I was there.

Balls Head is a little reserve in North Sydney with walking trails and picnic spots. I decided it’s be a great last exploration with my friend Becky.

It was a beautiful day so we wanted to enjoy the early winter sun. We wanted to do something we hadn’t done before, though I thought it’d be good to say goodbye to Sydney’s familiar spots.

Balls Head is right on the water a few stops over the Harbour Bridge so we got a new view of the Opera House and the skyline. It was a perfect panorama from North Sydney over the Harbour Bridge to the CBD and Darling Harbour, across the Anzac Bridge to Balmain and Rozelle.

It was a nice little walk and a fitting end to our adventures.

Sydney Weddings

2008-08-11T14:12:00.000-07:00

One of our hobbies in Sydney was taking photos of people taking wedding photos. Sydney is one of the most scenic cities I’ve seen, and there are just so many great spots to serve as your matrimonial backdrop. Argyle Park in the Rocks is a common spot.

So are the Botanical Gardens.

And just outside the Domain.

Balmoral is lovely.

As were these spots near the beach in Terrigal.

Of course, there’s nothing wrong with iconic either.

(The last shot, probably my favorite, was taken by my partner in crime, Becca.)

Last Fish Supper

2008-08-07T17:53:00.000-07:00

The last dish I made in Sydney was fish in green curry. As I’ve said before, I never follow recipes to a tee. For this one I sautéed an onion and garlic in green curry paste, then added what seemed like appropriate amounts of chilies, ginger, lemongrass and lime zest.

I continued to add coconut milk until the whole thing wasn’t unbearably spicy.

I threw in bamboo shoots, ~~bell pepper~~ capsicum and green beans. I mostly cooked the angelfish separately so it wouldn’t absorb too much heat when I tossed it in the pot.

We didn’t do anything fancy presentation-wise, but the whole thing was tasty with just enough bite. The fish was perfect in texture and flavor, so I thank the woman at the fish market upstairs above Paddy’s Market for telling me which one to get.

The real star was dessert, custard-filled puffs from Puffy at upstairs Paddy’s. I could watch the workers at the custard machines fill those baked puff pastries all day. I bought a dozen, and let me tell you, best $16.80 I ever spent.

The Little Things

2008-07-29T11:11:00.000-07:00

Journalism is all about the details. An amateur piece is filled with description but doesn't say anything. A good piece shows the big picture but misses subtle elements that stir readers’ emotions. A great piece includes meaningful details so people both learn and feel something when they read it.

I try to notice details all the time. Anyone who has walked with me knows I’ll stop several times to say, “Look at this,” “Feel this,” or “Hey, what’s in here?”

I’m always looking up and down and around because I know there’s more going on than what’s in front of me.

These are just a few of the tiny things I noticed on bushwalks. In the city it might be architecture or people that make me stop and look. A lot of times it’s a pastry display.

Love and Sydney

2008-07-28T19:41:00.000-07:00

Someone asked me the other day what my favorite thing about Australia was. He prefaced his question with an apology because he was sure everyone had asked me already. Curiously — and thankfully — no one had. I’ve always been terrible at naming favorites. It’s so limiting.

You know when you love someone, there’s not just one thing you love about them. You love everything about them...And everything about them makes you love them more. I tried to think of what I loved about Sydney, but I couldn't pin it down.

I did fall in love while I was in Australia. Everyone was convinced I’d meet an Aussie boy and never want to come home. It turned out the boy part wasn’t necessary. I fell in love with the city.

I thought I’d travel the country more — and I’d still love to — but there was so much to Sydney and its surrounding suburbs that I didn’t want to miss. There are so many neighborhoods to explore, parks to enjoy, restaurants to try, markets to rummage, and views to admire. The beaches are beautiful. The city is so clean (which is remarkable because I could never find a trashcan when I needed one).

But I could list characteristics or even specific spots that I loved, and it still wouldn’t tell the whole story. Because love is never just about the object, is it? Love is about the way we feel. I’ve always thought we love people in terms of how much they make us love ourselves. I suppose the same is true for cities.

I liked the person Sydney brought out of me. I was positive; I was adventurous. Silly little things wouldn’t bother me, and yet, silly little things could also make me really happy. I felt mature and independent, but always let the little kid in me play. Most of the time I was there, I felt in balance. I met some great friends and had incredible times.

My favorite thing about Australia was that it inspired me to seize every day I had there, and I was rarely disappointed with what I found.

One Thing

2008-07-25T13:05:00.000-07:00

There is really only one thing I wish I’d done that I didn’t while I was in Sydney: go on a boat.

Oh sure, I rode some ferries across the harbour, but I’m talking personal sailboat style. Every time I saw them out on the water, I imagined making friends with the owner and being invited aboard. It’s the type of thing that would have turned into what my friends would call a Brittany Story. (See: How I met Jane)

I even heard that on Sunday mornings at Rushcutters Bay you can often find people who will bring you along. They say it’s easier to get picked if you have sailing experience, but you’ve gotta learn somehow, right? I was convinced someone would let me on their boat.

Unfortunately, once I learned about Rushcutters, the weather got cooler and school got busier. We just never found a Sunday to wake up early enough and spend the day out there. Still, every time I saw a boat, I told my friends, “I bet they would take us on their boat.”

Next time...

Good Ol' Paddy's

2008-07-25T12:57:00.000-07:00

The Paddy’s Market is the place for cheap anything. Souvenirs, sunglasses, electronics, knockoffs, plants, cosmetics, lingerie, stuffed animals, hardware, jewelry...It’s the place to go for any stupid little thing you need but don’t want to pay much money for. And don’t care whether it breaks the second time you use it.

My favorite reason to go to Paddy’s was the produce. Being the center of Haymarket, which is like Chinatown, Paddy’s is mostly run and frequented by Asian-Australians. The place is a bustle of bodies and shouting, with fruit and cash being exchanged at a dizzying pace. You will get bumped into and not apologized to.

But with a level head and a little practice, you can make Paddy’s work for you. I loved that no matter what I bought, I rarely had to pull out a bill. It’s easy to lose track of how much you spend when you’re paying with coins at each stand, but it never adds up to very much. Usually I was only buying ingredients for one night’s meal so the amounts I needed were so small that sometimes they wouldn’t even charge me.

My most expensive single purchase at Paddy’s came when I was buying for a big ~~party~~ fiesta: 21 limes for $7 (which is just slightly less in U.S. dollars).

Back to the Beginning

2008-07-21T18:48:00.000-07:00

When I was abroad, the woman in charge of our house put me in contact with an American girl who’d be coming next semester through the same program I did. Now she’s in Oz, discovering Sydney and meeting all my friends from the house, and I have to say, I’m jealous.

Anyway, I thought I’d post these shots from my first evening in Australia during my study abroad orientation on the Mornington Peninsula of Victoria. I remember being baffled that Melbourne’s summer was colder than the 80-degree winter days I’d just had in LA.

The Day Public Transport Didn’t Want to Happen

2008-07-20T14:43:00.001-07:00

I knew I wanted to go horseback riding while I was in Oz. First I wanted to go to Glenworth Valley, which looked beautiful from the site, but my friends and I had no way to get there. Then I found Otford Farm, which we could get to by train in just over an hour. Perfect. We booked a two-hour ride through the forest to a waterfall and were ready to go. Oh so ready. Shoes, jacket, sandwiches, camera. Had the train schedule, left the house early. We get to Redfern Station only to find a two-hour-plus delay because of freight on the line. We had to move the trip to the following day.

That night I looked up the schedule to establish our new plan. What do I learn? A car crashed onto the line about five hours after the freight situation! Trains stopped running south. I was pretty distraught, but luckily when I woke up that morning I found the replacement bus schedule that wasn’t so horribly longer than the train would have been. We packed fresh sandwiches and made the best of it.

Otford Farm was really nice, though I wish we had a different guide. She was probably 18, which made for an awkward dynamic with all of us being older but having her in control. The girl wasn’t especially helpful either. She didn't give us a real overview of what to do and how to handle the horse. I am a pretty experienced rider, but my friends weren't. And I’d hoped for someone who’d talk about the area and keep things interesting. It was a really nice day and great surroundings, but two hours was a long while to be mostly quiet. Also, it had been a wet week so the trails were terribly muddy and the horses went extra slow. We had a few chances to canter, but we mostly trudged along.

We did get a nice view of the rainforest and ocean in the distance.

Plus the promised waterfall.

There are a few things I would have changed, but it was overall a good day, and I’m happy it happened at all after everything we went through.

And I thought the Aussie bills looked like Monopoly money...

2008-07-18T23:41:00.000-07:00

Sometime between when I left for Australia and came home, they went and changed the five-dollar bill on me. I got one as change the other day and honestly thought they gave me play money.

This denomination of U.S. currency is brought to you by the number 5 and the color purple! Mwahahahahahaa!

I'm convinced the mint will make this the next edition...

North to South

2008-07-18T14:56:00.000-07:00

I’ve posted this photo from the North Head before, but it’s one of my favorite views so it’s worth another showing, especially so it can be compared to this shot from the South Head:

I took this from The Gap at Watson’s Bay looking out at the spot at Manly where I took the first one a month earlier. The Heads mark the entrance from the ocean into the harbour. (A map for perspective.) There’s also a Middle Head at Balmoral, which I realized I also have a photo of.

I didn’t go on the Middle Head, but you can see it here from Awaba Street. To the left is North Head.

Thrilling, I know. I guess the point of this is just to show different angles of Sydney. During my time there I saw so much, and now I'm going back and really recognizing how much ground I covered...sometimes not even on purpose.

Being Back in LA

2008-07-16T00:13:00.000-07:00

I can’t say they didn’t warn me. At the Sydney Uni international student orientation, they graphed the emotional sine function we’d experience during our time abroad (sad to leave home, excited to be somewhere new, frustrated with cultural differences, content with your new home, sad to leave all the friends you made, etc).

I’m happy to see my family and everyone here, even though my sister and most of my friends aren’t in LA this summer. A lot of the time though, I miss being abroad. I had great friends and loved Sydney. More than anything, I miss the thrill of seeing and doing something new everyday. Home, I have to say, feels especially dull after that.

There’s a lot to love about LA. The weather is great, it’s got a beach, lots of life. My favorite thing is the variety — and I say this about Sydney too — it can be whatever you want it to be: posh, urban, bohemian, rugged, lively, serene, a party, a home...With all the cultures, different neighborhoods, and varied landscape, you can feel somewhere different every day, or multiple times in one day. Any kind of people, food, scenery or experience you’re looking for, you can have it. I respect LA a lot for that.

But a few things bother me. I hate that a car is a prerequisite for most things here (especially since I don’t have my own). I can’t stand the traffic I submit myself to when I do drive. I like a city where I can walk and feel free.

I wish we didn’t have that heavy layer of smog. The city can be picturesque — when you can see it. And I’m tired of the attitude from people living the in vacuum Los Angeles can be.

Maybe it’s easier to say these things because it’s where I grew up. The better you know someone, the more flaws you notice. On the other hand, I probably wore rose-colored glasses the whole time in Sydney. Still, for me everywhere else seems so new and exciting. Home can feel so suffocating, can’t it?

I love LA when I’m doing something different, when I discover something I didn’t know about it. After so much exploring in Sydney, you think I’d want to approach Los Angeles the same way. I do, but it has been hard to find the same motivation. I don’t have my study abroad cohorts, ready to do whatever random thing I find to do, not to mention walk however many miles it requires. Also, like I said, I don’t have my own car here, and public transportation isn’t convenient. From my house it’s a 25-minute walk to the nearest bus stop, which only two bus routes pass.

So it’s tough sometimes for things to be so familiar, plus not being surrounded by my 30 housemates all the time. It’s quiet and I'm rather listless. Is it weird I think I'll feel better when I go back to school in Missouri?

(The top photo is from a while ago. You can see Catalina Island under the haze. But since I’ve been home I’ve barely been able to see the city, let alone the ocean, because of all the brushfires.)

The Long Way to Watsons Bay

2008-07-15T00:41:00.000-07:00

Watsons Bay is a great spot in Sydney. Though I’d say it’s a Level 3 tourist zone (beyond Centerpoint Tower and the Opera House, but still in the guide book), it’s relatively peaceful and had a cozy feel to it, at least on the day we went. Imagine a lazy Sunday in the park and by the water. You can take a really quick ferry from Circular Quay, or you could do the almost 8km scenic route.

My mom, two housemates and I train-and-bussed it over to Rose Bay. I had a vague idea of where we needed to go and figured the walk would be self-explanatory from there. We randomly hopped off the bus at the above spot on New South Head Road. We walked through residential streets until we came to the historic Strickland House. Wandering the public grounds lead us to the water and the Hermitage Foreshore path. Perfect.

There we walked across the rocks and collected colorful bits of beach glass, admiring the gorgeous day that developed out of a drizzly morning. The trail followed the shore, but turned out to be more of a bushwalk than I’d expected. Nothing too strenuous, just more dirt and vegetation than the Bondi-Coogee walk.

Soon we reached Nielsen Park, a stunning family beach with crystal clear water, a lush park and rainbow lorikeets in the trees. It was nearly June, but we wanted to dive in. Instead we sat on the concrete steps for ages, watching the little girls at a birthday party splash about.

After Nielsen Park, our walk moved back to the residential streets, which was fine because we loved seeing the beautiful homes in Vaucluse. We weren’t sure if this was the route we were supposed to take, but we kept winding back to the coast, so I suppose it was right. We crossed the bridge over Parsley Bay, then shared a bench for another extended period of time.

Eventually we reached Watsons Bay. We had no idea what would be there — I hadn’t done any research — but we were pleasantly surprised. There was a big open park, restaurants along the wharf, and a trail up to The Gap, which offers extraordinary views south to the city skyline and north to Manly, not to mention the sparklingly cobalt Tasman Sea.

Back at the wharf, we ordered takeaway fish and chips from a place called Doyle’s. We had to finish the meal on the ferry back to Circular Quay, but it was delicious. I later learned Doyle’s is something of an institution at Watsons Bay, and for good reason. Those were the best fish and chips I’ve ever had. My friend Becky later declared it the best meal she had in Sydney, but to be fair, we had just walked nearly five miles and my mom paid for it. Still, I’d say it’s worth the trip...by ferry or by foot.

School Shmool

2008-07-14T12:17:00.000-07:00

I finally got my results for the courses I took at Sydney Uni (Sociology, Linguistics, Sociology of Sport, and Indigenous Australia). The classes only count pass/fail at Missouri, so it doesn’t matter much, but I’m happy with my three Distinctions and a Credit (My Sociology of Sport lecturer was an extra tough grader).

Overall I found Sydney Uni a lot more demanding in ways. I don’t think the lecturers were any better than at home or that I learned much more from them. They just graded harder. Whereas at Mizzou I expect every test and essay to come back to me with an A on it (I’m the person frustrated with a B+), at Sydney I felt their main goal was to remind us all how average we are. Toward the end, I started to learn the system better. To do well you needed to be very explicit in your analysis. Analyze, analyze, analyze, then analyze your analysis.

For comparison’s sake, my percentages and how they’d translate in the States:
82% Distinction (A-)
79% Distinction (B+)
75% Distinction (B+)
72% Credit (B)

Oh, and the photo is a shot from the hip as I walked behind some school kids on George Street one afternoon.

Tropical Dinner

2008-07-12T15:55:00.001-07:00

After my friend Nicole and I went to the Sydney Fish Market and made tuna steaks one time, we decided fish dinners should be a more regular event. We didn’t make them quite as often as we'd hoped, but still had a few nice meals. For the second dinner, I wanted to try cooking fish in lemongrass and coconut milk like a recipe I’d seen once. What better to go on the side than pineapple fried rice? Ok, I’d really always wanted to fill a pineapple with something and this was my chance.

I’m not huge on sticking to recipes. I usually look at a bunch of different ones, write down ingredients and a basic plan of what to do with them, then wing it from there. Unless I'm baking, I never know how much of anything I'm supposed to put in. So I can’t tell you exactly what I did with this fish, but I’ll give you the gist. I took some white fish (forget which kind) and marinated it in fresh limejuice, ginger, cilantro, garlic, green onion, chilis and lemongrass (all really cheap at the Paddy's Market in Chinatown). Then I put it in a long deep pan, poured coconut milk over the top, added more lemongrass stalks and baked it till it looked and felt done.

As for the rice, I added broccoli, shredded carrots, sprouts, an egg, probably some onion and fried that up with soy sauce, then tossed in half the pineapple chunks from the hollowed fruit and served it.

Everyone enjoyed the dinner, though I couldn’t help but feel something was missing from the fish. It needed some spice, but we didn’t have any at our disposal. I’ll have to try it again now that I’m home with a well-stocked kitchen. (Also, maybe the lighting will be better than it was in the university apartment.)

Whoever thought to get bowling reservations?

2008-07-10T13:38:00.001-07:00

When two friends and I decided to walk to Centennial Park one day, we got sidetracked at the Entertainment Quarter of Moore Park. The EQ branches off Fox Studios like a mini City Walk from Universal Studios in LA. There are restaurants, shops, a movie theatre, a Love Sac store (more on that later) and a Strike bowling alley. It’s also right by the Sydney Cricket Ground and Sydney Football Stadium.

The three of us visited the EQ at an off-peak time, but we saw great potential for life and atmosphere. I read there are fresh produce markets on Wednesday and Saturday and a bazaar on Sunday, but never got a chance to see for myself.

I would argue the Love Sac store is reason enough to go to Moore Park. What’s a Love Sac? It’s like a huge beanbag chair, but filled with shredded foam stuff that makes it basically the most comfortable thing you’ve ever sat in. Ever. My friends and I sat on the thousand-dollar sac oohing and ahhing for probably half an hour, and no one from the store ever told us to leave. (The pic is actually from the time I got comfortable at the Hollywood store.)

The original purpose of this post was to talk about Strike, which has a Monday night special of $5 games and $4 pizzas. My friends and I returned the following Monday, and despite the slight deadness of the EQ, Strike was fully booked from 7 to 11. We never thought to call a bowling alley ahead of time for just three people. We decided to order a pizza and give evil glares to the people who had the presence of mind to make reservations. Just before we decided to charm our way into a game with three random guys, we noticed a lane that had been empty for a while. Someone didn’t show up, so we were able to get a game in before the next party.

It was a pretty cool bowling alley. Unfortunately we had just started to warm up when the game ended and we had to go, but live and learn. Too bad the Love Sac shop wasn’t open that late.

So Close, Yet So Far

2008-07-08T00:47:00.001-07:00

People often ask me how I find all the things I do. I guess I read a lot. I always check out the listings in the local newspaper and free magazines. I look at blogs, which then lead me to other blogs. I take fliers or remember to google things I see on posters. What I loved to do in Sydney though was look at the bus map. I’d see where public transport would take me, then do a little internet research to figure out what was there.

One of the largest green sections on the Eastern Sydney bus route is Centennial Park. Every time I opened the map, I told myself I needed to go, but for some reason it took me four months to get there. If you go to Sydney, don’t wait that long.

Along with neighboring Moore Park and Queens Park, Centennial Parklands offer about 890 acres of oasis. Three minutes from the busy street, you reach the duck pond and feel miles (or kilometers) away from everything.

Sydney birds always amazed me, and Centennial Park is the place to see them.

You can get so close to cockatoos, swans, pelicans and flocks of other birds I’ve never seen before.

Wander a little more and suddenly you wish you didn't give all your breadcrumbs to the birds.

I absolutely loved this park, and wish I had more chances to visit. If you want a leisurely walk, a spot to picnic, somewhere to escape the city, a field to play Frisbee, a bike path, a gorgeous run, a hill to roll down, a tree to climb, a place to ride horses...nearly anything...Centennial Park all the way.

Another Sunset in Manly

2008-07-04T14:40:00.001-07:00

When my mom came to visit me, I tried to put together the best 10-day itinerary, which would hit the essential sights without being over touristy and would let her see the many sides of Sydney. I had a great plan for most of the week, but the hardest part was figuring out what to do the first day when I figured she’d be pretty exhausted.

Then came the New York Times to the rescue. (Has it ever done me wrong?) I found an old article I’d bookmarked, “Fighting Jet Lag in Manly.” I remembered the first time I went to Manly, I sat next to two Americans who were also fresh off the double-digit flight.

It was perfect. We caught the ferry at Circular Quay, which offers up-close views of the Harbour Bridge and Opera House. The ride is a leisurely half hour and you can sit inside or out.

Once in Manly, you can stroll in and out of shops on the Corso, ~~eat kebabs by the beach and get attacked by seagulls~~, take a dip in the rock pool, walk to neighboring Shelly Beach or take a bushwalk up the North Head.

Stay for sunset.

Visiting the Sisters

2008-07-04T01:09:00.000-07:00

The Three Sisters (not to be confused with the Flying Fajita Sistas) is a rock formation in the Blue Mountains, about 70 miles west of Sydney. The name comes from an Aboriginal legend about three sisters who fell in love with three brothers from another tribe. Since a tribal law did not allow them to get married, the brothers took them away, starting a war between the two tribes. A witchdoctor seeking to protect the women turned them into stone, but died before he could change them back. Thus, the three sisters remain.

Our study abroad company gave us a free trip to Scenic World for a view of the Three Sisters. Scenic World has walking paths, cable cars and a railway that take you through the rainforest and up in the air to see the Sisters and the Blue Mountains, which are named as such because of the blue haze resulting from the eucalyptus trees.

You get in a caged roller-coaster-type cart and descend the steepest railway incline in the world. It doesn’t go very fast though. I suppose that would defeat the whole scenic purpose.

We also took the Scenic Skyway (they make it sound really exciting, huh?) across the canyon, past a waterfall and closer to the Three Sisters. It has a glass floor, which is pretty cool, or really scary depending on your degree of vertigo.

Someplace Fishy

2008-07-03T15:57:00.000-07:00

The Sydney Fish Market, located in Pyrmont, is the second largest in the world. If you want to get specific, it’s the largest in the Southern Hemisphere, while one in Tokyo claims the world title. But none of that means much does it? The point is the Sydney Fish Market is huge.

The market sells wholesale seafood to restaurants and individuals, but also includes several take-away stands where you can get everything from sashimi to stuffed clams and lobster. One day for lunch, some friends and I got a big spread so they could try octopus and some other seafood for the first time.

It was good, but I preferred the meal I cooked myself. My friend and I got a great deal on some tuna steaks, which I marinated in soy, ginger, fresh orange juice, chili, garlic and green onion, then seared and served with Chinese long beans. It was the first dish I prepared in Sydney.

I'm home

2008-06-30T15:48:00.003-07:00

My semester in Sydney has come to an end, but since I was trying to fit in as much exploring as possible in the last few weeks...not to mention deal with final papers and exams...updating was difficult. Now that I'm home and wanting to relive the experience, I'm ready to start sharing all the photos and stories from my last month abroad.

I wish I could say the above photo is my own, but the credit goes to my friend Becca. I believe it's from a beach in Cairns.

If you can see this, you’re not lost

2008-06-14T21:51:00.008-07:00

Even as someone who sets out to explore and “get lost,” I like knowing where I am. Luckily Sydney has a recognizable skyline, including the Sydney Tower, about a thousand feet high. Also known as the Centerpoint Tower, it’s my point of reference wherever I go, and I’ve seen it from nearly every angle and varying distances.

From Glebe (southwest):

From Rose Bay (east):

From Centennial Park (southeast):

From Kirribilli (north):

From Manly (northeast):

From Royal National Park (south):

Final word about the Coogee-Bondi Walk

2008-06-14T20:36:00.005-07:00

Another highlight of the 6km walk between the two beaches is Waverly Cemetery. The first burial there was in 1877, and most of the graves along the coastal edge are pretty old, but people can still be buried there today. I read they have some 50,000 gravesites and memorials on more than 40 acres. We just saw the very outskirts overlooking the water, but it seems like if you’re going to stay somewhere for Ever, then Waverly wouldn’t be a bad choice.

Summer, I Miss You

2008-06-12T05:59:00.004-07:00

Our Coogee-to-Bondi walk made me long for a warm beach day again, but at this point, the only way to get in the water is in a wetsuit, like the surfers we watched at Bronte Beach.

Though I’m not ready for my semester abroad to come to an end, as it will in less than three weeks, at least I have summer back home to look forward to.

Side note: Bronte has the nicest looking rock pool of all the beaches I’ve seen here.

A Perfect Kite-Flying Day

2008-06-09T00:12:00.003-07:00

Sydney has been going through another rainy spell, but Saturday offered some sunny respite. We took advantage by finally doing the popular walk from Coogee Beach along the coast to Bondi Beach. On the bus ride over, we drove past a hilly park I thought would be perfect for flying kites. I don’t remember ever flying a kite in my life so I don’t know much about it, but I imagined that would be a good location.

Coincidentally, on our walk later we spotted a few wind gliders and a kite in the sky near Bronte Beach. I’d wanted to ask the kite-flyer if I could take a turn, but then I saw it was just a little boy, and kids that age aren’t great sharers so I didn’t bother. I’ll just have to get my own kite and head to the park sometime.

Getting Close to Nature

2008-06-08T19:14:00.010-07:00

At Featherdale Wildlife Park kangaroos and wallabies hop around freely so you can feed them (but also have sanctuaries where people aren’t allowed to go). This albino wallaby and her joey were in a protected area though.

The koalas are in open stalls, and there is usually at least one outside on a branch that you can touch and get a picture with (without having to pay extra like some zoos here make you do).

Many birds, like ibises, geese and this pheasant, are able to roam wherever they like in the park.

They let emus walk around too, which is a little scary, especially when you’re carrying kangaroo food because they’re just as hungry, but twice as tall. At least they keep the cassowaries, like this one, mostly enclosed. These guys have the body of an emu or ostrich, the neck of a turkey and a horn like a rhino. They freak me out.

They have some brilliant looking birds. This one reminds me of a villain glaring from behind his cape. I think he just had an itch though. Do birds get itchy?

This bird was my favorite because we made a personal connection. I realized if I bounced up and down or side to side, the cockatoo would imitate me. If I raised my arms, he’d flap his wings. He also knew how to say hello and bye-bye. He was my buddy.

And if you weren’t convinced already that Featherdale is worth the 50-minute train ride from the city, there are penguins.

Tah-Man to the Rugby Rescue!

2008-06-01T04:44:00.003-07:00

A few weeks ago I caught the last quarter of a Rugby Union match at Sydney Football Stadium. We would have seen more of the game if we hadn’t taken the train in the wrong direction first (which was not my doing). Anyway, we were able to see the New South Wales Waratahs wrap up the win and celebrate with Tah Man. I have to say, the mascot is a lot tougher looking than an actual Waratah, which is the state flower.

From Little Things Big Things Grow

2008-05-29T06:09:00.012-07:00

Conveniently, the last week of lectures for my Indigenous Australia class overlapped with National Reconciliation Week. The week aims to bring Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander issues to the forefront, while recognizing their culture and history. Over the course of the, er, course, we discussed the disadvantages and injustices faced by Indigenous Australians in the past and still today.

Sometimes the discussions were really depressing. These are people who have had their land stolen, were victims of what was essentially genocide, have had generations of children taken away from them, and are still fighting notions of being second-rate citizens. But this last week has been especially positive, focusing on recent changes and optimism for the future. The Sea of Hands really embodies that.

The Sea of Hands, which began in 1997, is a series of public art installations meant to symbolize support for reconciliation between Indigenous and non-indigenous Australians. People write their names on plastic hands (red, black and yellow like the Aboriginal flag; green and blue like the Torres Strait Islander flag; and blue, white and red like the Australian flag) and add them to designs across the country. Right now there is a display on the front lawn of Sydney Uni’s Great Hall.

The design seems to be a lizard and includes the word “Sorry” since in February the prime minister gave a national apology for the “Stolen Generations” of children taken by the government away from families.

We also learned about GetUp! which is an advocacy organization that supports a range of causes, including those of Indigenous Australians. The GetUp Mob remade a Paul Kelly song, “From Little Things Big Things Grow,” that makes a good point and has been stuck in my head since we heard it in lecture.

“It seems to me if we can imagine the injustice, then we can imagine the opposite. And we CAN have justice.”
Paul Keating, Redfern Speech 1992

When Art Is a Playground

2008-05-29T05:56:00.006-07:00

Art is more fun when you can play with it. (Remember finger painting?) My friends and I got a good reminder of how much fun art can be the other day at the Experimenta Playground exhibit at the Carriage Works cultural center. It’s an incredibly hard exhibit to describe unless you’ve experienced the technology before. My pictures probably won’t be much help either because they don’t show the motion well (and because I had to take them very sneakily).

The exhibit features a collection of interactive and digital art from several artists. The first piece we approached was an overhead projector shining pink against the wall. A few wooden shapes and numbers lay unassumingly next to the projector, but when you drop a piece on the glass, noise comes from somewhere beyond and the projected image comes alive. Dashes outline your hand on the wall, and what looks like confetti falls out of the wooden pieces’ shadows.

Similar to the overhead work was the shadow puppet piece. When you held your hands in front of a large light box, it would reflect your hands with added features, like eyes, teeth or spikes. When I moved my whole body in front, my shadow appeared with funky hair, a bow, a horn and other additions. Even a simple shadow puppet of a dog came out looking like a monster. In this photo you can see how my friend could ‘burp’ when he opened and closed his hand.

Our other favorite creation was the underwater scene projected on the floor. Cartoon-like blowfish swam around freely, but would suddenly puff up and float if you stomped on them. If you stepped on the seahorses, they’d play different musical notes.

There were a few other pieces and short films that were a bit over our heads as far as purpose and meaning are concerned. But we got a kick out of the interactive works, which did feel like being at some sort of playground.

Like I said, it's hard to explain so you should really just see it for yourself.

Greetings from Sydney

2008-05-29T00:09:00.003-07:00

With a few papers due last week and my mom visiting this week, my blogging has fallen by the wayside. But I have a stockpile of photos and stories to share...eventually. Until I catch up, enjoy this delightfully coincidental view of Sydney Harbour today from Milson’s Point.

Autumn in Sydney and a Theory

2008-05-17T22:13:00.003-07:00

Sydney has a moderate climate similar to Los Angeles. Many of the trees are evergreen, but there are a few varieties gushing autumn hues on my street in Darlington.

The weather has still been beautiful lately, sunny and low 70s or high 60s. Definitely still t-shirt and light sweater weather…unless you’re Aussie, in which case scarves and coats are more appropriate. Just because a few of the leaves changed color and they can’t go to the beach anymore, some people have decided to play the fall part and dress like it’s brisk out. They all look cute, but I can’t figure out how they’re not burning up. I’m too warm if I have one light extra layer on, but there are people walking around in wool, for crying out loud.

And then I figured it out. Cool people don’t sweat. Of course not. Only those unaffected by climate are cool enough to wear the Sydneysider uniform — boots, skinny jeans/leggings, spiffy shirt, scarf, cardigan, and fall coat — when it’s a cloudless 68 degrees. I’m so unhip, I take temperature into account when I get dressed.

Roses are red, violet and other hues

2008-05-11T02:08:00.002-07:00

A friend and I spent some time Saturday exploring sections of the Botanical Gardens I still hadn't seen after three visits. For Mother's Day (and my mom's birthday the same day), here are some roses.

Day and Night

2008-05-09T01:37:00.003-07:00

Here are two shots from the ferry heading to and from Manly Wharf.

I hadn’t intended to do such similar day and night views of the shore. I only realized it after I uploaded the photos. Actually, I hadn’t even intended on being in Manly till dark, but Sarah and I wandered awhile and had some hitches with transport. Oh well, the sunset was beautiful.

A Royal Walk

2008-05-07T07:19:00.017-07:00

I love waterfalls. They’re so simple —just water moving from high to low — but they have this paradisal element. They make me feel far away from anything urban or polluted. This Sunday I ditched the city for an 11km bushwalk in Royal National Park, an hour south of Sydney.

A friend met me at Heathcote Station where we picked up the Karloo Track. The first 2.5km are mostly downhill to the Karloo Pool. If we had the presence of mind to wear bathing suits, we might have joined the group of kids playing in the water, but it seemed a bit cold anyway.

From there, the track begins to head uphill, and that’s where it gets confusing. Though we had a map and hike directions, we still had trouble following the trail. Despite a few wrong turns, we finally found the Uloola Falls. Of course, we missed the easiest way down, but our improvised (nearly vertical) route proved more fun, as they typically do.

Pretty, right?

From the falls, we took the Uloola Trail up, down and through tall bush, swampy paths and eucalyptus-lined service tracks until reaching Waterfall Station to catch trains back. It’s a good hike if you can navigate it properly. And steer clear of these devils.

Royal National Park seems to have some incredible hikes along the coast, including one where a waterfall drops into the ocean, but I don’t think public transportation will get me there...

Also, anyone know the best way to edit and save photos so the colors show as brilliantly as they do in my iPhoto? That spider is crazy red and orange, but appears washed out online.

Fried Dough Tuesday

2008-05-06T05:22:00.015-07:00

I’ve been on a roll with food posts, so how about another? Nearly two months ago, I discovered the Flying Fajita Sistas during a walk through Glebe. How could a name like that not pique your interests?

Even better than the name is the Tuesday special of $3 soft tacos and $3 tequila shots. Taco Tuesday quickly became a tradition among my friends. The regular menu is a bit pricey so we stick to the specials and the side dishes, including their incredible fresh tortilla chips. These babies come hot out of the fryer, but they’re never greasy, just perfectly crisp and ready for a dip in guacamole and corn salsa.

The Sistas have become quite popular in recent weeks after some good press in the Sydney Morning Herald and the university newspaper. But instead of pouting when we can’t get reservations, we visit the Sistas’ neighbor, San Churro. Okay, we still pout, but the San Churro Chocolateria is a few doors away on Glebe Point Road and just as satisfying.

They specialize in Spanish hot chocolate and churros... do I need to convince you any further? The hot chocolate is wickedly rich and begs to be shared. My favorite is the Buddha Baci, chocolate infused with hazelnut (yes, like hot, liquid Nutella), followed by the Azteca, spiced with cinnamon and chilli.

The churros are also amazing. Hot out of the fryer, not greasy, crisp on the outside, soft in the middle, waiting for a dip in melted dark chocolate and rainbow ~~sprinkles~~ hundreds and thousands.

To sum up, Flying Fajita Sistas: chips and tequila :: San Churro: churros and chocolate. Either option guarantees a good and gluttonous evening.

(For the record, that was a night we had 14 people at the Sistas.)

A Photoless Visit to Dulwich Hill

2008-05-05T07:25:00.005-07:00

The above photo, just to catch your attention, is from a corner in Newtown after my walk through Dulwich Hill. I don’t have photos from Dulwich Hill because I felt out of place with my camera. The neighborhood isn’t touristy at all, but my little digital camera is.

Why did I want to walk around the humble westerly neighborhood? The New York Times told me to. Well, it didn’t tell me to, but it convinced me to. (Newspapers are good at doing that.) I’d read an article called “In Dulwich Hill, Sydney, Finding the World in a Few Blocks,” and hey, if that’s where the world is, that’s where I’ll go.

Believe it or not, I think I found a good chunk of the world. I must have heard four or five different languages just as I walked down Marrickville Road. I got off the bus in what would probably still be considered Marrickville and made my way to Dulwich Hill. There’s nothing flashy about either part of town. It’s no Paddington or Balmoral. It’s a working class area with a diverse immigrant population. The streets are lined with discount stores, butcheries, Portuguese chicken shops, Greek cafés and Lebanese patisseries (with more unassuming pastries than Balmain). There’s even an Egyptian restaurant. Very few chains to be found.

A prime example of the authentic local feel came when I stopped in Eumundi Smokehouse (several Sydney food bloggers seem to be fans). A man was browsing the sausage selection when the woman behind the counter asked, “Were you here last week?” He said yes, and she said, “Yeah, you bought two of the hot Spanish pork sausage last week and left them on the counter. What do you want today? I owe you two sausages.” I thought that was great.

The houses along Marrickville Road were single-level Federation style with small front yards, compared to the Victorian row houses on the narrow streets of Darlington, Chippendale, Redfern and other areas near campus and around Sydney. The area reminded me of West LA where I lived with my parents in a tiny house when we first moved to California. Both have a lot of immigrants and working class people. The businesses meet needs without any additional flash.

I bought a scarf and sweater for $9 total at a second-hand shop, which if I was in the cooler Surry Hills neighborhood would be called vintage and double or triple the price. Same distinction between West LA and Melrose in Los Angeles.

I’m not going to romanticize Dulwich Hill like the New York Times, but the neighborhood had a good feel to it. Lots of life. Real life, at that. It's always refreshing to get out of the Uni bubble...to conveniently relate back to the main photo.

Food Food Food in Balmain/Rozelle

2008-05-03T06:31:00.009-07:00

Most people learn of my food obsession very soon after meeting me. A few dead giveaways would be the hundreds of photos on my iPod of food I’ve cooked, the detail with which I describe things I’ve eaten, the exhaustive list recipes I’ve bookmarked, the number of times a week I mention Smitten Kitchen...

For these reasons, Balmain and Rozelle are almost too much for me to handle. The two neighborhoods partnered for a Food Week toward the end of April, which I’d heard about in the paper, but didn’t make it out for. Since Friday was warm and we were looking for a walk, I convinced two friends to join me on a foodie excursion.

We got off the bus on Darling Street in Rozelle, just a block from The Barn Café and Grocery, which is like a smaller Dean & Deluca plus a corner of Crate & Barrel’s kitchen section. We continued up Darling Street, stopping every few stores to gaze at the pastries. I’d venture to say Balmain/Rozelle has the most pastries per capita in Sydney.

And cafés. We passed so many cafés advertising autumn soups — which is fantastic because I love squash and pumpkin. I prefer spring weather, but I can’t hate on fall food.

As Darling Street became residential, we noticed the harbour to our left. We changed course and found a beautiful park.

We made our way through the side streets back to Darling right in the heart of Balmain. This area is packed with nice restaurants I can’t wait to try when my mom comes to visit and I have an excuse to go.

I imagine a great sunny Saturday would involve a ferry from Circular Quay to Balmain, a look through the Balmain outdoor market, lunch at nearly any of the cafes, a pitstop at the park before walking down Darling to the Rozelle weekend markets, then getting a pastry before heading home.

Burritos and Remembering Home

2008-05-02T08:23:00.009-07:00

There probably few families in America that have put more money toward Chipotle Mexican Grill than mine has. We usually have home cooked meals, but when we go out in Los Angeles, 90 percent of the time it is to Chipotle. It’s easy, it’s cheap, it’s delicious, and if you order right, it can be decently healthy. I don’t claim that it’s authentic Mexican food, but I love it.

Well, Sydney doesn’t have Chipotle. But I just found the next best thing: Mad Mex in Darlinghurst.

Same concept as Chipotle: fresh ingredients along an assembly line piled into burritos, tacos, quesadillas or bowls. The quality at Chipotle is a few notches higher and the prices a bit lower (considering tax and conversion rate, it isn’t grossly different). Still, Mad Mex hits the spot.

I head to Darlinghurst with a feeling I’d be disappointed. It’ll cost too much, won’t taste the same, won’t be enough food... But as we joined the line spilling out the door, I could smell those familiar scents. The night air even felt like California. Excuse me as I get nostalgic, but I really felt like I was back home.

The burrito was really good. Through dinner I discussed all the subtle differences: lack of bay leaves in the black beans, uneven onion-to-green-pepper ratio, not enough salt and cilantro in the rice...but nonetheless, it satisfied a certain yearning.

As part of their specials leading up to Cinqo de Mayo, Mad Mex has $5 margaritas. Knowing how much my dad loves the margaritas at Chipotle, I figured he’d be disappointed if I didn’t try one here. It was pretty good, but probably not better than back home.

I still have that Chipotlesque taste in my mouth and full in my belly, and it makes me happy.

Harbour Bridge Walk

2008-04-30T18:58:00.007-07:00

With this past Saturday being the last in April, I took a quick train north for the monthly Kirribilli Markets. A friend of mine from class, who lives just a few minutes from Kirribilli in North Sydney, met me for a browse through a few hundreds stalls of clothes, crafts and food.

Though she had to leave for soccer practice (she’s on the Sydney Uni team), I hung around and explored Kirribilli, from the main restaurant row to Luna Park and through the residential parts along the water.

It was cool seeing the opposite side of the Opera House.

Then an American friend, Jeff, met me at Milson’s Point so we could walk across the Harbour Bridge back to Circular Quay. The Harbour Bridge Climb, which takes you to the very top, costs up to $300, but a simple walk on the pedestrian path doesn’t cost a thing.

The views are still pretty good.

The Best Spot I’ve Ever Had a Matzo Sandwich

2008-04-28T07:35:00.015-07:00

The best spot I ever had a sandwich was a remote ledge on the Barrenjoey Head in Palm Beach. But this overlook in Manly was pretty spectacular as well. Here’s to the last day of Passover and the return of bread, rice and legumes to our residential college kitchen!

Sydney finally saw some sun this weekend after two solid weeks of rain. My friend Sarah and I took advantage of this by taking a ferry to Manly, which is probably Sydney’s most famous beach after Bondi.

We only stopped briefly at the beach because we were headed on a coastal walk around the peninsula. The walk took us to Shelly Beach before leading us uphill to said fantastic sandwich spot.

Then it was more of a bushwalk until we reached North Head Scenic Dr.

This point of Sydney Harbour National Park near the North Fort Artillery Museum has an incredible view of the whole city. But where haven’t I gone with a good view? Sydney just has too many. Sarah and I kept turning to each other, smiling and saying, “We live here.”

And after beautiful days like this one, it gets harder to consider living anywhere else.

ANZAC Day Part 3

2008-04-27T04:34:00.006-07:00

Once I’d gotten a few hours’ sleep following the dawn service, I was ready for another Anzac Day event. I didn’t make it to the traditional Anzac March in the city center that morning, but I figured the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders march would be better to attend anyway. I’m taking an Indigenous Australia class here, which discusses the mis- and under-representation of the Aboriginal community.

The Aboriginal march began at The Block in Redfern. Redfern is an inner-city neighborhood in Sydney with a large population of Aboriginal people, and unfortunately it is also poorer and associated with crime. Redfern was the site of riots in 2004. It’s also conveniently the closest train station to my house. I know to be careful walking back at night, but I’ve never felt unsafe during the times I’ve been there.

Anyway, I was glad to go to a positive event in Redfern associated with pride and tradition. Many carried Aboriginal and Torres Strait flags.

These two girls were cute imitating martial arts moves with their flags.

Something striking about the event was the media presence. I’d have to say there was one reporter or photographer for every actual participant. It’s great that the press was covering the event, but it was sad how few people from the wider community attended. Of course many had already been to the dawn service and the parade and at this point were getting drunk before the rugby game. But still.

Just for fun, here's an Aboriginal hip hop song that I gave a presentation and wrote an essay on a few weeks ago. The video for the song features the guys driving through Redfern.

ANZAC Day Part 2

2008-04-26T07:01:00.014-07:00

Dawn isn’t something I see very often. The hours between 2 and 6 in them morning are usually off limits for me. But today, my dedication to the exploring Australia cause possessed me to set an alarm for 3:10 a.m. to go to the ANZAC Day dawn service at the Sydney Cenotaph.

I walked to the bus stop where two old ladies were sitting. I bet they’d be fun to talk to. After 10 minutes of waiting for the bus, I spoke up. “Well, I guess I coulda gotten a little more sleep.” The women told me they never went to bed. Instead they stayed up watching “Cape Fear” and whatever else was on. They each had sprigs of rosemary, which I had read was important to Anzac day. They couldn’t tell me why exactly rosemary was significant, but they said poppies were important too. The one woman broke off a piece for me and the other offered me a pin.

They joked about bringing a flask to the service. I told them, “Oh, no, I’m going to get in trouble with you two.” The one responded, “It’s good to get into trouble now and then,” and said something about it making life worthwhile.
Another ten minutes passed and they started to complain about the bus being late.
“I’m starting to lose my sense of humor.”
“This is absolutely ridiculous. The paper said it was supposed to be here. We rang up to check and they said it’d be here.”
I said I’d be happy to share a cab with them, but they weren’t interested. “No, love, we’ll just go back home if the bus doesn’t come. We’re getting tired.”

A group of students who had come from a night of barhopping joined us at the stop.
“I don’t think the bus is coming,” one of the women said. “We’ve been waiting for 40 minutes. It's absolutely ridiculous.”
The bus came five minutes later but was so full it didn’t even bother to stop.
“Absolutely ridiculous. Let’s go.”
I told them I’d pay for the cab if they wanted to come.
“It’s not about the money, dear. We’re just cranky at this point.”
“Yeah, we’re going to call and complain.”
“First person who picks up, we’ll let em have it.”

So the women left and the group of kids hailed a cab. There were four of them so they couldn’t fit me in their taxi, but they decided to split up so I wouldn’t have to pay the whole fare myself. During the ride I learned they went Sydney Uni with me.

We arrived at Martin Place just after 4 a.m. The street was packed and there was no way to get anywhere we might see anything so we just listened. The MC introduced Prime Minister Kevin Rudd and other important attendees. The service began with a hymn and a prayer. A general gave a speech, which was followed by more hymns.

Rain started to fall and everyone’s umbrellas went up. Now I really had no chance of seeing the band or choir up front. The service closed with the New Zealand and Australian national anthems, which I had never heard before. Listening to thousands of people sing the anthems just before sunrise was a great experience.

My new friends, who had been up all night, offered me to join them on their ride back to campus, but I decided to stick around for a little since I hadn’t actually seen anything during the service. As people cleared out, I moved toward the cenotaph monument where some were laying wreaths and flowers.

I watched the bagpipe players play.

And pitied the journalists who got stuck with the Anzac story — the same story written every year, which bonus! has a 7 a.m. deadline. It was amusing to watch them fight for quotes from the oldest veterans.

I decided to walk back as the sun came up. It was a good idea until I was 15 minutes away and contemplating how comfortable it would be to curl up on that curb. I finally made it back in bed just after 6:30 and slept until 10.

My final Anzac Day story will have to wait for another post.

ANZAC Day

2008-04-24T19:35:00.005-07:00

Today is a public holiday for ANZAC Day, which honors members of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. April 25 marks the anniversary of the battle of Gallipoli during WWI.

Thought I’d share photos of the ANZAC Bridge taken back when the sun used to shine in Sydney. (We’ve had 14 days of rain now.)

More ANZAC Day photos and stories to come.

The Balmoral Lifestyle

2008-04-21T06:57:00.011-07:00

I’ve made it a mission to explore areas of Sydney outside the tourist/uni student bubble. I have a list of neighborhoods still to check out. But with autumn rain clouds hanging overhead for more than a week, not to mention a few thousand words worth of research papers due, it’s been harder to get out these days. Finally on Sunday, I set aside a few rainless hours to visit Balmoral, an area of North Sydney brought to my attention by Not Quite Nigella.

I noticed a few things about Balmoral (pronounced BAL-moral, not bal-MORALE, as I originally wanted to call it). First, everyone smells like coconut. Second, everyone has kids under age five or is pregnant. The area is beautiful and so are the people, their modern houses and snazzily dressed kids.

I wandered through the hilly residential streets with my friend Becca, admiring the homes and thinking of Malibu. We eventually found our way to The Esplanade on Hunter’s Bay. As per Not Quite Nigella’s recommendation, we stopped at the Bather’s Pavilion Kiosk to grab a snack, which we ate on the small headland park, surrounded by young couples and their kids.

Ah, the Balmoral lifestyle.

In town we saw several children’s clothing and maternity wear shops. Becca and I stopped in a few home stores to look at kitchen gadgets and gourmet non-perishables.

I decided Balmoral would be a fantastic place to get married, buy a house (like this one) and then make tarts and babies for the next few years. Of course, I’d have to find that coconut scent everyone was wearing.

Sydney Birdies

2008-04-20T19:22:00.010-07:00

I’ve been big on birds here. Part of it is that so many exotic looking birds are quite common in Sydney. The other reason is they’re easy to get up close and photograph. (Sometimes too close.)

These photos are from a trip to Featherdale Wildlife Park, but I’ve seen them all in the wild, and by wild, I mean public parks in Sydney. Up top is the crimson rosella, followed by an inquisitive rainbow lorikeet.

Cockatoos are more common than the others around the Sydney CBD (central business district). They’ve got a loud squawk and of course, their natural habitat seems to be the trees just outside my window every morning.

Kookaburras also have an interesting call. They’re often called “laughing kookaburras” because, well, I’m sure you can put two and two together. You can listen to their laugh track here.

I might as well throw in this GQ shot of what I think is a noisy miner at Hunter’s Bay yesterday.

And one more seagull photo to add to the collection.

Aussisms

2008-04-14T19:07:00.009-07:00

I used the word “heaps” the other day and thought I’d mention a few more words and phrases I hear often.

Good on ya - I like this. It’s a positive, congratulatory ‘way to go’ sorta phrase. Expect me to come back using it.

Can’t be bothered - People say this one a lot when they’re talking about being lazy. “I have the book in my room, but I can’t be bothered going upstairs.” It’s not something you would never hear in the States, but definitely a phrase that comes up often here.

No worries - The Aussie cliché, I suppose. People say it in the States these days too, but it’s still common here. For me this seems more like the Australian way of life than just a phrase.

Mate - Speaking of clichés...But yes, everyone is mates in Oz. We took a cab with an Australian guy once and between him and the driver, they must have said “mate” at least nine times. It makes everyone sound extra friendly.

Nice - I find some people say “nice” where Americans would more often say “good.” We use it most often when we’re analyzing the day’s meal. “This curry is nice,” “The cake is nice today,” etc.

Sweet as - (Not to be confused with “sweet ass.”) This is actually more from New Zealand, but some people have picked it up here. It’s basically “awesome,” “cool,” or “sweet.” I don’t know why they say “as” because they never follow it with a comparison to anything. This bugs a friend of mine who always wants to know “Sweet as what?” If you ever hear me say this, I am clearly trying too hard. I hope it never happens.

Doona - I learned this week that this is a duvet or quilt. It’s a trademark that people use generally now, like Kleenex, Band-Aid, Frisbee, etc.

Bogan - A bogan is a lower class Australian usually from a rural or poorer area. It was first explained to me as someone from the country, a “hick,” but I learned at our house’s Bogans and Billionaires Party that it’s a little different from American white trash. Short rugby shorts, high socks, ~~flip-flops~~ thongs, flannel, Ugg boots, black jeans, wifebeater shirts, cigarettes and cheap beer seem to be key to the bogan lifestyle. People use “bogan” in a general sense too when they don’t dress up, like when my neighbor goes down to dinner in a mismatched t-shirt and shorts with Uggs because she can’t be bothered to change.

A lot of words are just shortened versions of English words. I find a lot of them endearing.

Sunnies - sunglasses
Swimmers, Bathers - swimsuit
Lollies - candies
Arvo- This one means afternoon. I’m not sure where they get the V, but oh well.
Derro - Maybe not so endearing, this is a homeless person, i.e. derelict. Often also an “alco.”
Bikies - This is hilarious because it's what they call bikers, like rough and tough guys on Harleys. But how cute does it make them sound?

One example of making a word longer rather than shorter, is sprinkles. I'd expect them to be called "sprinkies" or "sprinko," but they actually call them "hundreds and thousands." Charming, if not too poly-syllabic.

And no, they don’t say “crikey,” so don’t even ask.

Belated Spring Break Post

2008-04-14T00:14:00.008-07:00

I had one final adventure over the school holiday, which I never got around to sharing. Our Aussie friend Paul took three American friends and I to his family home in Tascott about 50 miles from Sydney Uni. He was a great tour guide. I happened to mention that I swam in waterfalls once in Los Angeles so we made a short detour to check out Somersby Falls in Brisbane Water National Park.

He drove us by the popular Avoca Beach before taking us to his preferred Copacabana Beach. That’s right, Copacabana isn’t just for Rio anymore. We could have used the Brazilian sun though because it was a bit too cool for swimming.

Paul then took us a little further north to Terrigal, where we climbed this massive hill for a great lookout before a break at a local beer garden.

It was a nice town on the water with some great looking houses in the hills.

After our long day, we cooked up some beef and chicken fajitas, whose leftovers I added to scrambled eggs the next morning and quesadillas for lunch.

School resumed the next day, and I've been wishing for break again ever since.

Putting the 'Study' in Study Abroad

2008-04-13T05:27:00.002-07:00

My parents can be assured that the lack of blog entries recently means school has picked up and I’ve been trying to be productive. I’ve had heaps of reading and papers to do since Easter Break ended. (“Heaps” is definitely an Aussie phrase. I hung out with a group of college kids who said it all the time, as in “That’s heaps cool” and “I was heaps drunk.”)

Something the other American students and I have noticed is how much less Australians talk about their schoolwork. In the States, it’s always a competition over who has more to do. We stress ourselves out by constantly talking about school and how busy we are.

I don’t think Australians work less than we do, in fact, the courses may require more effort to really do well. But I think it’s more personal for Australians and not as competitive. This probably has to do with the grading system, which is very different from home. It falls more along a bell curve than the inflated grades in the U.S. Here, you can pass with a 50 percent and 65 percent is a “credit.” Most people are pleased with a credit. A “distinction” is usually in the 75-85 percent range and isn’t given to everyone. A “high distinction” is very rare.

A paper I know would have easily gotten an A at Mizzou got a 13 out of 20 here, and everyone said my “credit” was great for a first paper. It definitely changes how you think about grades. It’s nice getting As all the time at home, but at least here I know my “distinction” really means something.

Anyway, time to get back to my next paper.

Can’t Get Enough Festivals

2008-04-07T06:48:00.006-07:00

If it’s the weekend, there’s a festival in Darling Harbour. My first day in Sydney I watched the Chinese New Year Dragon Boat Races there. I stopped by the Indian Holi Festival not long ago and watched acrobatics at the Hoopla Festival over the long Easter weekend.

Most recently I went to the Greek Festival, which featured lots of dancing and lamb-eating. The Greeks seem to be people with a lot of pride. A majority wore blue and white T-shirts, jerseys or hats, if not the Greek flag itself.

I missed the Indonesian Festival in Darling Harbour this weekend, but coming Sunday is the Thailand Grand Festival. It’s fun always going to the same spot but seeing an entirely different collection of people each time. Being from Los Angeles and traveling often, I’m used to cosmopolitan cities. After spending a few years at school in Columbia, Missouri, it’s refreshing to be back in a place with large populations from so many different cultures.

Into the Bush

2008-04-02T23:51:00.014-07:00

My next Easter Break adventure involved bushwalking in Ku-Ring-Gai Chase National Park, a 45-minute to an hour train ride north. After my daytrip to Palm Beach and Avalon, I felt ok exploring on my own and was looking forward to the 9km hike I’d plotted out. I know my aim is to “get lost,” but I also need to live to blog about it, so a planned route and map seemed in order.

Once I got there, I was very glad to be prepared as I was because the hike definitely took me out of my comfort zone. Ku-Ring-Gai covers almost 37,000 acres, and at least in the section where I started in Berowra, there weren’t any clearly marked trails with happy arrows or park ranger booths to keep you on the right track. For the first half-hour, I wasn’t even positive I was on the path I intended to be on. Looking back, I probably should have gone with a buddy, but I read too much Kerouac this summer and going alone seemed like a good idea.

Once I reached the creek at the bottom of the trail, I felt surer of where I was going. All I had to do was follow the creek for the next two hours.

Well, even that was easier said than done. The bush was very overgrown and the path became hard to follow at points. Huge spider webs loomed overhead and it always felt like one of these guys was on my arm.

I also ran into this four-foot-long goanna, which scared me out of my pants because I nearly stepped on it without looking.

At this point my shoulders were beginning to ache because of my backpack. Sure, I could have packed lighter, but how much would I regret it if I had left behind that beach towel that could’ve served as a blanket or been fashioned into a tent in the event I got lost in the bush and needed to spend the night before a rescue party found me? Exactly. So I flipped the backpack around to my front because I figure that’s where women are meant to bear loads about that size. Why fight evolution? It helped so I wore it that way except when I saw boats on the creek and felt self-conscious. Hey, who’s that weird girl pregnant with a backpack? And did she just pull out a sandwich?

Like I said, the trail was overgrown with fern and brush. Plus, there were several fallen trees and steep rocks to cross over. I later realized this might have to do with the fact that the Berowra Trail I took was temporarily closed to the public. When I reached the intersection with the Mt. Kuring-Gai Trail, I saw the trail I had come from had been fenced off. Who knew?

After I got to the second trail, I felt much more at ease because I knew I was going the right way and was ahead of schedule. (I attribute this to the fact that my “flight” response is much keener than my “fight” and I booked it through the tall brush and cobwebs.) The Mt. Kuring-Gai Trail was steeper but had wider, more worn paths so I thought less about potential creepy-crawlies around my ankles.

I finally made it up to the top where I found another great scenic sandwich spot. Then I walked down out of the park, through a residential area to the train stop one ahead of where I got off and was home in time for dinner.

Another day, ‘well Done.

Whole Lotta Hoopla

2008-03-31T18:19:00.013-07:00

Last Monday, two friends and I went to Darling Harbour for the last day of the annual Hoopla Festival, which included street performers and acrobatics.

These guys who played movie themes and classic rock as they flew, spun and flipped were maybe my favorite.

But the breakdancers on stilts were awesome too. (The photos didn’t just come out as good.) That's two people doing some sort of crab-walk together.

These two women were incredibly strong and graceful. They would climb the rope without any safety net or harness, then entwine themselves in the rope and twist around.

My friend and I were inspired on the playground. But without the same finesse, we didn’t draw much of a crowd.

A Long Day of Exploring Part II

2008-03-30T19:18:00.010-07:00

After a few hours hiking in Palm Beach, I wanted to jump in the water, but decided to wait until Part II of my excursion so I wouldn’t be sandy and saltwatery on the bus. (Sweaty was ok for some reason.) So when I got to Avalon, which is about 5 or 6 km from Palm Beach, it was time for a dip. I swam a few laps in the rock pool to cool off before my next hike.

A 10-15 minute walk from the beach is the Angophora Reserve, named for angophora trees, which are related to eucalyptus. The reserve comprises about 45 acres of vegetation and walking trails. Actually, I learned about it after looking at the city bus map and wondering what that section of green was. After some googling, I found out Avalon is one of the only suburbs in Sydney where koalas are still found naturally so I knew I had to go. Unfortunately I saw more signs warning of koalas than actual critters, but I figured it’d be a long shot I’d actually see one in the wild.

Even without koalas, the walk was incredible. It felt like a rainforest — dark and humid with palms and fern growing below trees filled with cackling kookaburra and squalling cockatoo.

But when I set out on the trail in the late afternoon, I forgot to make any efforts to find out where the hike would go and how long I’d be on it. I ended up in a residential area and decided to take to the streets instead of wandering the isolated nature path. It was about the time the thunder started to roll that I admitted I didn’t know where I was or where I was going. When the drizzle began, I realized I was on the opposite side of the valley I needed to be.

I kept walking, declining a ride offer from two guys in a truck and finding a stray dog who followed me to the convenience store I eventually found to confirm my way back to the bus stop. It turned into a 35-minute walk in light rain, but I made it. And hey, the whole premise of this blog was for me to get a little lost, so the day was a success. (I then came home, passed out by 9ish and slept for 12 hours.)

A Long Day of Exploring Part I

2008-03-28T05:12:00.008-07:00

That’s right, this was such an experience it requires Roman numerals.

I decided to use my weeklong holiday to travel out of the city center and get to know different aspects of Sydney. With most of my friends in New Zealand or other states in Australia, they would have to be solo adventures, but I didn’t mind. It’s nice having full control over your experience.

My first trip was an hour-and-a-half bus ride north to Palm Beach. The beach is on the hammer-shaped Barrenjoey Peninsula, which means there is shore three minutes apart to the east and west.

I started at the south end of the beach, but decided I wanted to get to the lighthouse. It’s that speck atop the headland.

I trekked through the sand and up, up, up the mountain, but eventually reached it.

From there, I explored the trails down the sides of the peninsula with incredible views of Broken Bay and the Tasman Sea. This was probably the greatest spot I’ve ever eaten a sandwich.

Palm Beach one of the wealthiest suburbs of Sydney and a prime spot for a second beach home. It’s also the location where they shoot the long-running Aussie soap opera “Home and Away.” Of course, I happened to find them doing just that on my roundabout route back to the bus stop. Based on my research, I’m guessing that actress is Indiana Evans, if anyone is interested.

But my day wasn’t over. I was off to Avalon for another hike, which will have to be saved for another post.

Aussie Animals Up Close

2008-03-26T05:36:00.009-07:00

On Easter Sunday, Jane and her daughter Kirstie took me on a drive in their area of Sutherland, about a 45-minute train ride southwest of where I am in Sydney. We stopped at Sublime Point Lookout, and it was a bit hazy but sublime nonetheless.

We drove along the coast and then up to Symbio Wildlife Park, where I saw my first true Australian koala. We were lucky to arrive just when this one was sitting on the ledge against the fence. I was able to pet him, and lemme tell you they’ve got the cushiest fur.

You just want to nuzzle ’em...until you spot these bad boys.

Then we were able to feed some kangaroos. When everyone is carrying a bag of food, you don’t have to be as stealth as I had to be the first time I saw roos.

One did grip my hand a little too hard, turning my part of my pinky purple for a few minutes. But that’s what I get for eating his cousin in a kebab last week.

And for one last aww, here’s another koala, just hanging out.

A Playdate at the Sydney Easter Show

2008-03-24T05:24:00.021-07:00

Remember Jane, the woman I met over scones? Well, as promised, I gave her a call last week and she invited me over. She set me up to go with her daughter and friends to the Sydney Easter Show on Saturday and then come back for dinner and stay the night. I took her up on the offer, especially since my house of 30 people dwindled to a quiet 10 during this week off school.

Anyway, Kirstie took me along to the Easter Show, which is like a big county fair with animals, games, rides and fried food. The show was at Olympic Park, the site of the Summer Olympics in 2000. As I was photographing the ducklings, this curious little guy came right up and poked his beak through the wire. I was able to refocus and get a shot in before he scuttled away.

Not far from the baby chickens was the egg competition, begging the obvious question, which came first?

I imagined the guys setting up the tables of eggs arguing with the guys setting up the cages of chickens over who arrived before whom.

The scene would make a good one-panel comic if I could draw.

...The award-winning rooster is not amused.

There was also pigeon judging and other bird competitions. This one was one of my favorites because it reminded me of someone in a frilly Victorian dress with an exaggerated backside and perhaps carrying a fancy umbrella. I can't find an exact image like I'm picturing in my head, but it's something like this or this.

After seeing all the animals, we enjoyed many, many free samples on the Food Lovers’ Walk. Kirstie and I were great at making small talk with the purveyors who offered us juices, teas, wines, salsas, spreads, oils, jerkies, nuts, chocolates and other goods. Naturally, I was busy talking and tasting, so I don’t have any photos.

Then it was time for rides, show bags and fireworks before a long bus ride back for a late-night dinner Jane saved for us.

Nothing Says ‘Easter’ like the Easter Bilby

2008-03-23T05:25:00.006-07:00

The theme around here seems to be, if it’s not a marsupial, Australia wants nothing to do with it. Therefore, instead of the Easter Bunny, you get the Easter Bilby, which looks to me like a rat wearing bunny ears.

In 1991, the Foundation for Rabbit-Free Australia started a movement to change the Easter symbol from bunny to bilby because apparently rabbits are feral pests that have wreaked a lot of havoc on the environment here. Not everyone fully embraces the bilby though. A guy about my age told me the Easter Bilby hasn’t completely caught on, and he seemed to think of it as a lame imposter.

I’m not going to knock anyone’s culture, but I’m going to have to give this round to the Easter Bunny. On the other hand, most of the chocolate eggs here seem better than back home. Still, I miss me some sour Starburst jellybeans.

Happy Easter... however you celebrate it... and even if you don't.

What’s Sydney Without Its Opera House?

2008-03-21T06:04:00.007-07:00

During my first two weeks in Sydney, I must have been within a digital zoom of the Opera House at least eight times. My friends and I thought about dedicating an entire Facebook album to the structure. Seeing the Opera House was an affirmation that we really actually were in Sydney...and I think we needed that daily reminder.

But since going to a play there a few weeks ago, I don’t think I’ve been in Sydney Harbour. Now that classes have begun and I have more routine in my life, I feel more like I live here. Still that’s no excuse to deprive you of touristy photos of the great Sydney Opera House. I realized I hadn’t posted any besides a small one here.

This was my first view of the Opera House. When we stumbled upon it our second day in the city, I actually made the operatic “Waaaaa” noise like the shape-shifting group of fish in Finding Nemo. What you can notice here that I didn’t realize before is that the roof is made up of different tiles that are actually a cream color. It usually looks solid white.

Danish architect Jorn Utzon designed the structure in the late 1950s and it opened in 1973. The “shells” house different stages, which I also didn’t realize until coming here. I thought it was The Opera House, ie. one big opera stage. Really it’s more of an Opera Condo with an opera theatre, concert hall, drama theatre, playhouse and studio theatre.

We went to see As You Like It in the playhouse at the beginning of the month. With 398 seats, it’s a lot smaller than the 2,679-seat concert hall, which has a huge organ with 10,000 pipes or something ridiculous. Still, I got to see Shakespeare in Australia’s most famous landmark, and I think that’s pretty nifty.

Happy Holi-Days

2008-03-17T05:52:00.010-07:00

On Sunday I stopped by the Indian Festival of Colors, Holi-Mahatsov, in Darling Harbour. Holi celebrates the start of spring in India. Though it is soon to be autumn in Sydney, this week it has been in the high 80s, maybe even 90s. I still haven’t figured out that whole Celsius thing. Multiply by five-ninths? Yeah, just after I finish listing pi to 38 decimal places...

Anyway, as part of the festival, people throw colored powder, which is actually made of medicinal herbs, at each other. The significance of this goes back to Indian mythology when Krishna put colors on his love, Radha. But on Sunday, the color throwing had more the feel of a snowball fight than expression of love.

Apparently on the first night of Holi, people light bonfires to symbolize burning the demoness Holika and the victory of good over evil. The festival is supposed to promote friendship and good health.

It was fun watching these boys, who set out to wash the pink powder off themselves, move into a full scale water fight.

It was bound to happen.

Scones and Going Where You’re Not Supposed to Go

2008-03-15T18:57:00.004-07:00

I approach life as if I’m always carrying a press pass. To find the story, you just gotta get in and start talking to people.

Yesterday Becca and I went up to the Great Hall on campus hoping we’d find a wedding in progress. It’s this beautiful Gothic building commonly used for receptions, and we’ve got this little project going on involving wedding photos. We see a man out front in a suit and tables of scones and tea behind the building. The organ swells and we wait for the happy couple to exit. But there’s no bride and groom, and we notice some people don’t seem to be dressed for a wedding. We're still very curious about the town car out front bearing an Australian flag and the royal crown instead of license plates.

As people clear the hall, I move closer and closer to the door trying to figure out what was happening. Becca is hanging back and I’m on the steps peering into the Hall. An usher, uh, ushered us in and handed us programs. He explains this was a reception for Dr. Catherine Hamlin, who founded a hospital in Ethiopia to provide free operations for poor women who have suffered injuries from giving birth. The fancy car was for Marie Bashir, the governor of New South Wales and chancellor of the University of Sydney. She’s the first woman to govern NSW and the first Australian governor of Lebanese decent.

The usher tells us this was a charity event with $50 tickets so he couldn’t “formally invite” us for refreshments. Of course, in my opinion, cordial invitations are optional. Becca and I began fanning ourselves with the glossy programs and moseyed on over to the scone table.

Wiping the jam and cream from the corners of my mouth, I suggest to Becca that we talk to some of the other guests. I don’t think she knew I was serious. (She’s only known me for a month.) The fact that we hadn’t been to the reception and couldn’t tell you a thing about the woman in whose honor it was held wasn’t going to keep me from conversing.

I turn to a little old lady and ask if she knew where we could set our finished plates. She didn’t know either but, noticing our accents, asked where we were from. We got to talking and a few of her friends joined in. The women all went to the same church, which raises money for the surgeries at Hamlin’s hospital. When they asked why we were at the event, we offered something vague like, “Oh, we just found out that it was one of the things going on around campus and thought we’d check it out.”

One woman, Jane, told us about her dessert parties that have provided funds for 19 surgeries. After hearing that we were studying abroad from the States, she said she we should talk to her daughter who will be spending next semester in Montana of all places. Before we knew it, Jane was explaining how to take the train to her neighborhood and saying if we called her when we got to the stop, she’d pick us up and bring us to the house. She mentions dinner or bbq, and all of her friends tell us what a great cook she is. Another says, “When Jane invites you over, she means it.”

Well, when an Australian invites me to a new part of town for dinner, I’m not going to turn her down. We get Jane’s information and make tentative plans to go to her house near Royal National Park, which I imagine is pretty classy.

And I thought the scones would be the high point of crashing the reception...

Land of the Free

2008-03-10T01:00:00.010-07:00

I love free stuff the way ~~a fat kid~~ I love cake.

I like to sift through newspapers and magazines in search of festivals, shows and other events gratis. On my second day in Sydney, I hit up the Chinese New Year Dragon Boat Races, exhibits at the Maritime Museum, Gay Mardi Gras and a short film festival at The Domain — all for free.

The best part of free festivals is that they usually involve more free stuff. I’ve accumulated seven free beach bags, five tins of orange Eclipse mints, four Schick Quattro razors, Vitamin Water, green iced tea, a ball, a Frisbee and a medley of pens. But best yet, surfing lessons.

This week (in my free copy of Time Out Sydney) I heard about a free surf class in honor of International Women’s Day. This Southern California girl has never tried to surf before, believe it or not, so I called up and reserved the last free spot.

We got an hour of instruction and surf time, with boards and wetsuits provided, at Dee Why Beach. Saturday was my first time on the other side of the Harbour Bridge. I liked the atmosphere better at Dee Why than Bondi or Coogee, but they each offer something different.

After our surf lesson and a good hour of recovery, we explored the tide pools, where we spotted two octopi.

We also found a dead blowfish, which was interesting, but hardly aesthetically pleasing. I’ll spare you and offer this starfish photo instead.

Then we took a short walk through the Dee Why Wildlife Reserve along the lagoon. And who doesn’t love lagoons?

Look Right

2008-03-08T03:22:00.004-08:00

As my friend Colleen pointed out, cars driving on the opposite side of the road can be confusing, but luckily for us, Dublin and Sydney point our eyes in the right direction.

Now, if I can just get a sign to remind me to run straight ahead after I hit the ball in cricket instead of 45 degrees to the right like in baseball, I just might pass for Australian.

Scarier than a pigeon and just as dirty, it’s the ibis

2008-03-03T16:43:00.005-08:00

Not long ago, I sang praises of Sydney’s parks. What I didn’t mention were the parks’ primary residents: Australian white ibises.

I first saw these birds when I was checking out Victoria Park within an hour of arriving in Sydney. They seemed pretty exotic to inhabit the area between Broadway and City Road, but soon I started seeing them everywhere. On campus, in Darling Harbour, Hyde Park... I’ve seen more ibises than pigeons.

Just the other day I realized they sleep on one leg like flamingos.

I did some research and learned that Australian white ibises began to flock to the city during the 80s because of droughts and other problems in their natural habitats. At their urban peak, more than 10,000 ibises nested in Sydney. The population has diminished because they do not seem to be reproducing as before and because governments started taking action. The main culling method is to apply canola oil to the eggs so the embryos can’t get air, rather than killing live ibis.

The birds can be quite a nuisance, especially when you try to picnic — a band of them surrounded my friends and I as we ate lunch in The Domain. Ibises typically eat bugs and small water animals, but have taken a liking to Sydney garbage as well. A lot of people would be glad to be rid of the smelly, dirty birds, but there are also movements to protect the species in the city since they cannot be sustained in other environments.

I’m sure if they just started eating shrimp and turned pink like flamingos, they’d have a lot more supporters.

Uh oh, I had cupcakes and a camera

2008-03-02T16:19:00.013-08:00

Two weeks back, I was on a bus back from Bondi Beach when I noticed a cute little sign with a chic pastel design. The Cupcake Bakery.

Stop the bus!

I restrained myself from doing anything more drastic than thrusting my hand into my beach bag to retrieve my handy dandy notebook and scrawling basic coordinates for future reference: The Cupcake Bakery, Oxford St. near busstop before Centennial Park.

I would be back.

Fast forward to this latest Saturday when two friends and I made a leisurely trek to the classy neighborhood of Paddington for the weekend bazaar. We enjoyed the sunny breezy day walking past high-end boutiques and the people who shop at them. The Paddington Market is stocked with fine jewelry, garments and crafts, well above our Uni price range, but wonderful to admire.

By then it was cupcake time, though I wasn’t convinced I’d even order one. I’m picky about cupcakes because, though beautiful, they’re often too sweet for my taste. I mostly wanted to look.

We began to walk, hoping it wasn’t much further since we’d already gone about four miles that day. Just then I noticed a little girl in a stroller burying her face in frosting. She has a cupcake! I said, pointing directly at her. I glanced up and found the sign just a few stores ahead.

Once we entered, it became pretty clear I’d have to get a cupcake for myself. There was a display case full of appetizing options, but I found the one for me. A single chocolate chili cupcake with chocolate buttercream frosting waited on a covered tray atop the counter. I had just sampled a bit of chili-cinnamon dark chocolate from a chocolatier at the market so my tastebuds couldn’t be more on board.

We sat in the tea garden and took a few minutes for a photo shoot before diving in.

I wasn’t disappointed. The cake was moist and chocolaty with heat from the chili surfacing after each bite. The frosting was nice, not too sweet. I’d like something dark and richer, but it did the job.

I see another Oxford Street/Paddington Market/Cupcake Bakery day in my future...

Summer in Sydney

2008-02-27T03:37:00.008-08:00

It’s no secret I love the New York Times. It’s a less known fact that the Times loves me. A prime example being the time the food section provided a pinup of supernatural brownies. This weekend the NYT did a travel feature on rock pools at Sydney beaches. How convenient.

Back in the day, aristocrats and convicts alike created baths by enclosing corners of the beach with rocks. The writer called them the “original infinity pools.” People swim in them for the scenery and feel of the ocean without the threat of sharks or rough surf. There are lap pools you usually have to pay for or be a member of to use, like Wylies Baths at the south end of Coogee, but I took a dip at Giles Baths, which was at the opposite edge and free.

The baths were first known as the Bogey Hole. From the 1850s and into the early 1900s, men swam at the north end of the beach, and women kept to the south.

Apparently five years ago some people thought they saw the Virgin Mary in shadows on the cliff and it became a pilgrimage site for a while. I didn’t see her, but I thought it was cool the clouds seemed to imitate the rocks.

That same year, the northern headland was renamed Dolphin Point to honor the six members of the Coogee Dolphins rugby team, who died in a bombing in Bali in 2002. A sculpture serves as a memorial for the 91 Australian victims in the attack.

Of course, I wouldn’t have known all this if it weren’t for the good ol’ Times.

The Seagull Obsession Continues

2008-02-27T03:33:00.003-08:00

This guy finally held still long enough for me to get his picture the other night in Darling Harbour.

Fun with macro-mode in the Botanical Gardens

2008-02-22T04:45:00.006-08:00

As noted earlier, the Botanical Gardens are one of my favorite things in Sydney. Anyone who knows how much I love the greenhouse at Mizzou, wouldn’t be surprised to know I went to the gardens twice in a few days. There are still areas I haven’t seen.

The cool thing about gardens is the fluidity. Every time you go, something new has bloomed.

That flower is kinda funky, but not as strange as these.

They grow in the water and look like something out of Alice and Wonderland. The way they blossom makes me think of one of those toys you push Play-Doh through to make little florets.

Once they flower though, they’re really pretty.

For the Birds

2008-02-21T15:35:00.007-08:00

During our orientation on the Mornington Peninsula (the Aussies pronounce it, “peninshula”), we took a small boat ride across the water. We got a glimpse of a few dolphins and saw a colony of seals, but another highlight was the seagulls, which I’m obsessed with because of Finding Nemo.

We thought we’d be going for dinner at a restaurant at the other end of the bay, Instead, our guides wrapped our meals in paper and served us soggy fish and chips right on the boat. Appetizing, right? It wasn’t so bad once the salt and ketchup made it to where I was sitting on the second level. (Aussie Fun Fact #2: they call ketchup, “tomato sauce,” prompting the inevitable question, “Then, what do they call tomato sauce?” So far, I’ve just heard tomato sauce, but my guess would be pasta sauce. I’ll have to go to a grocery store or Italian restaurant to investigate.)

Anyway, my friend Bianca was less than thrilled with her supper so, to the delight of the flock around us, she chucked most of her fries overboard.

This one bird was particularly adept at catching the chips midair.

Going Green

2008-02-21T01:59:00.017-08:00

My favorite thing about Sydney so far is all the green space. I’d been looking forward to it since I Google Earthed the city a month ago, and haven’t been disappointed. You’re always a few blocks’ walk from a park. Victoria Park borders the University of Sydney so it was the first one I went to. I’ve already been to The Domain and the Royal Botanical Gardens twice. Yesterday I saw Hyde Park and today we visited Argyle Park on Observatory Hill.

I just want to lie in the grass, have a picnic, go on a run, read a book, take a picture in every spot.

Then I remember, I have nearly five months to do all of that.

However often I want.

I've seen roo poo. Have you?

2008-02-21T01:39:00.002-08:00

Straight from the Melbourne airport, jetlagged and stiff from a 15+ hour flight, our study abroad group went to an area where kangaroos live in the wild. Our three groups of 20 were hardly inconspicuous, but we managed to get fairly close to several gangs of kangaroo. Being in front, I snuck within 10 yards of that one before he hopped away.

We saw some joeys, but none in a mother's pouch unfortunately.

Let's get lost

2008-02-07T12:58:00.001-08:00

I love to explore. It’s part journalistic intrigue and part kindergarten-like fascination, but I really get a kick out of discovering the world around me. And the best way to find things is to get lost.

There was the time I wandered off the hiking path and found a tree denoting the Exact Center of Los Angeles. In New England, some friends and I got off at the wrong bus stop, traveled down Purgatory Chasm Road, and found ourselves at Flo’s Clam Shack. Last year I took an aimless walk in Missouri, found a dry creek bed, collected seashells and hitched a ride back on a mule-led carriage.

Now I’m off to Australia. I’ll stay a few days in Melbourne, then study at the University of Sydney until the end of June with some trips around the continent in between. Don’t worry, I’m not planning to get call-the-consulate lost. I just want to see new things and meet interesting people.

I’ll use this space to write about my explorations, whether they culminate in the discovery of some great spot in the city or just an amusing story. I’m bound to make up some words in the process.

Enjoy.