Sydney

Caro wasn't over-impressed with Sydney. She accused it of being a "try-hard" city. There's some truth to this, especially Sydney in post-Olympic mode where everything is overpriced and you get a sense of a city that has plenty of big attractions but a lack of vibe. It certainly didn't feel particularly "Australian". Not that I would know. 

But Sydney itself seems a very confident sort of place, divorced from the typical Australian cliches. Spalding Gray once said that New York is an island off the coast of America, and Sydney is in a similar position to the rest of Oz.  As visitors to Sydney, we had to obey the Law of Touristm and ascend the AMP tower which Caro is at pains to point out, is NOT NEARLY AS BIG AS THE SKY TOWER IN NEW ZEALAND HA HA BLOODY HA.

Sorry - it's a Kiwi thing.  You understand.  Anyway.

Yeah - so we went up this tower and had a good look at Sydney from aloft and it really is a spectacular city - lots of sights - lots of natural beauty - just a certain lack of soul.  

The other impression of Sydney From On High is how crowded together all the buildings are, all backed up tight against the waterfront.  It's from this vantage point that you really get an idea of what Sydney is - a bunch of Australians clinging to the edge of a huge bloody rock.  I don't mean that in a nasty sense, honest.  Just stating what's obvious when you look at a map of Australia - that most of it is uninhabitable apart from the fringes and any soft Pom who has had a close encounter with a Huntsman would probably be a bit wary of the fringes too.

Mind you, those fringes are pretty incredible, and it was with a sense of complete envy that we took a harbour cruise and just GAPED at the houses along the harbourside, especially Piper's Point.  There is SOME money in Sydney - most of those multi-million dollar abodes aren't even people's proper houses, just summer abodes.  Not that summer ever ends in Australia of course.  (Except in Melbourne, where it apparently never STARTS - but more on that later...)

Up until now, we'd pretty much done the tourist thing and not hung out.  And if you’d actually been paying attention so far, you would know that this is what we do best.  “Caro and Symon” haven’t spent a entire day in bed for AGES now, you concerned readers will be fretting.  I know, I know.  It was HELL.  

I mean, rushing about is all very well and good if you're a Duracell Bunny sort of person, but quite frankly I don't like Me Overseas Cultural Experiences getting in the way of My Sitting On Me Arse Experiences.  However, this was to change as Caro had got in touch with her friend Jenny Jordan, a Kiwi now living in Sydney.  I mentioned her back in an earlier, but in case you popped out for a cigarette or were in the toilet at that part, I’ll give you a quick recap. She's Caro's friend from way back, especially in her Uni days.

She's a Kiwi farm girl, of Colombian parentage.

She's undoubtedly "staunch".  This is a word the Kiwis use a lot.  It means sort of the same as "staunch" in the UK, but also kind of intimidating and strong as well.  Jenny herself puts this down to her "latin temperament".  

She's unbelievably pretty and glamorous, in a Catherine Zeta-Jones sort of way, only without some Old Dude drooling all over her.  Walking through a crowd with her is a strange experience, as you can't help but notice all the bloke's heads pop up out of the crowd like Prairie Dogs.  Being in her company had a strange sort of effect, like she was throwing out all these Beauty Rays or something, and whenever I caught sight of myself next to her I felt like an ugly little troll.  Sort of like when you attempt to have a shower in a horrific hotel room with harsh lighting and lots of mirrors at all angles and you catch sight of yourself squatting and AAAARGH I’M BLIND!!!  You know that kind of experience.

Jenny and crowd of drooling men agreed to meet up with us outside Sydney's Town Hall on George Street just over the road from a statue of Queen Victoria looking really tired and shagged out.  

Anyway, we met up with her and went The Marble Bar under The Hilton for a couple of drinks (Jenny, not Queen Victoria).  Jenny took us there, because she said we had to see it, and The Marble Bar is pretty cool.  It is very grand with huge marble pillars, mirrors and dark wood everywhere.  It felt a bit like drinking in an old Gothic Cathedral.  Not that I've ever done this, you understand.

After this we went to Newtown to one of Jenny's favourite restaurants, CirculAte.  There, we were served by a very camp waiter who ignored our orders and brought us what he thought we would enjoy instead.  He was right though - the food was delicious.  

Meanwhile, Jenny told us how she had accidentally fed detergent to her flatmate’s dog, Brodie, and then let slip how she had once put a cat in the drier.  Never let Jenny petsit for you, is the lesson here.  She also told us how she has a tendency to talk in her sleep and kept her boyfriend awake one night insisting they put the cat out.  "But we don't HAVE a cat!" he explained (it probably left after the drier incident).

"No, you have to put the cat out," she insisted.  This went on some time until he assured her that yes, he had put the fictional cat out, at which point she drifted back off to her surreal dreamworld of cats.

So now it was time to leave Sydney, and just as well for we'd just about spent our whole Australia budget and there was still Western Australia, Adelaide, Melbourne and Byron to go.  

I honestly cringed when Caro had to go off looking for Sebastian Product for her hair.  A small bag of that stuff means we don't eat for a week.  Unless I eat the Sebastian Product.