As I emerged from Circular Quay station, my first glimpse of
Sydney Harbour Bridge was silhouetted by a pink sunset. Next to it was a huge
cruise ship, pristine in the soft sunlight. What a welcome!
The Youth Hostel was built over what had been the largest
archaeological dig in Australia, and much of it was still on show. You could
make out buildings from the earliest European settlers in the 1790s. It struck
me again how young the popular image of Australia is.
I wandered around the city, revisiting some old haunts from
my first visit to Sydney twenty-three years earlier. I had spent three months
there and got to know it well. The Queen Victoria Building was as beautiful as
I remember. Luxury shopping with balconies on each floor overlooking a central
atrium. In the middle was a history clock. Each side had a panel depicting a
time in history from aboriginal beginnings to Cook’s landing.
In David Jones, the luxury department store of Australia,
there was a lady playing a grand piano. I had forgotten. She had first been
employed to play during the year of my first visit in 1990. What a fabulous job
to have.
I wandered through the Botanical Gardens down to the harbour
edge. I knew there was a step-free way to get there. Finding it, of course, was
a case of trial an error. I had a lovely tour around the gardens. Eventually I
made it to Mrs MacQuirie’s Point. Well the bottom of it anyway. I didn’t feel
inclined to climb the steps. I could still see the view I wanted of the Opera House
and the Bridge.
The sun lowered to the top of the Bridge. I had wanted to
watch it set completely but couldn’t. My way back was through the Botanical
Gardens which closed before it got dark. I didn’t want to get stuck.
The next day I met up with Kate, another friend I used to go
to college with. We cruised the harbour on a ferry while catching up. You can’t
come to Sydney and not take a trip on its greatest asset.
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