The Sydney 10

I have to find a way to catch up with the present. It has been too long since Sydney and I did not take good notes my second week. And frankly, I just cannot write about this vacation anymore. I am resorting to a top-10 list to sum up my final days.

10. Coogee/Bondi Beach (10.13.2005) – The sun came out Thursday after a few cloudy days so we headed to the South Sydney beaches. Two trains and a bus ride brought us to Coogee. A cool, lazy beach. A string of bars were right across the road. We threw the football around and did nothing of consequence. A bus ride (we should have walked) took us north to Bondi where we had a great dinner – my first quality steak in the longest of times. The Bondi night life could have been better – we were blocked from some of the bars because we were wearing sandals. Ridiculous for beach-side watering holes.

9. Bengals game at Cheers Sports bar (10.10.2005) – I had not watched an American sporting event for over six months. The Bengals were 4-0 and the darlings of the young NFL season. Prime time game in the states meant the game aired at a reasonable time in Australia – 10:30am on Monday morning. The morning started with the 18-inning marathon between the Astros and Braves. We moved to Cheers, which is a swank, multi-level sports bar in the Central Business District. We laid $50 on the Bengals and drank cold pints. The intro featured Chad Johnson, blazed up in his uniform and spouting the sweetest trash talk I have ever heard. I thought I might have a stroke. Heads turned to watch the loud mouths yell at the television at 11am. The game was good and the Bengals were driving to win before a killer fumble ended the game. We recovered quickly.

8. Rocks Pub Crawl/Date night (10.12.2005) – Tony and I went on a pub crawl through the historic Rocks district. We visited three notable pubs and strolled through the narrow, crowded streets. Our guide was Canadian, which we thought was a little weak. We learned some of the seedy Australian history and sipped on ales and pilsners. Big drinking culture in Australia. Monique came by that night and was convinced Tony and I were con men. She asked the front desk for my room number but my name was not registered to the room. Neither was Tony’s (his first name is ‘Earl’, but he goes by his middle name). By the time she got to our room, her skepticism was through the roof. I opened the door and was greeted with ‘Who are you guys?’ We were thoroughly questioned. She caught me in a stupid lie. It took two hours of groveling to make things right.

7. Big Saturday (10.8.2005) – I called the girls that I had met the previous Sunday at the Rugby Final. They directed us to the Hilton Hotel. The bar there was fantastic – probably the best one we went to all week. Soaring ceilings, dark wood tables and a classy brass bar. The bar wrapped around into a courtyard. Open air. There were beautiful women. The rugby girls were sweet pickles. The crew moved on to Kings X. We could not get into the first bar so Tony and I set off on our own bar crawl which ended, as always, at the Empire Hotel. Much rejoicing.


6. Hunter Valley Wineries (10.14.2005) – Tony and I had tried to go on this tour Wednesday but we missed the bus. Completely my fault. They pushed our tour to Friday. We envisioned a youthful tour with numerous stops at a variety of wineries and an emphasis on rowdiness. Then we got on the bus. The lineup was me, Tony and 15 old ladies. Good times. The ride through the valley was winding and pretty though we didn’t see any of it because we were so damn tired from our relentless schedule that we slept the entire time. A quick stop at a nature preserve allowed close encounters with kangaroos and emus. The theme of the tour was centered around wine appreciation, not irresponsible drunkenness. Still, it turned out to be real decent. We learned a lot about tasting and smelling and interpreting wines. The women took us in – we were their prodigal American grandsons. They slipped us extra glasses of wine to keep us properly lubricated. At lunch I ate kangaroo and emu – probably the same ones I had petted earlier. Nobody likes kangaroos in Australia - they are like rats. We drank bottles on the way home. Just enough rowdy.


5. Soup Plus/Cricket Match (10.15.2005-10.16.2005) – Soup Plus is a great jazz bar. $60 at the door gets you and your date a 3-course meal and seats on the second floor loft to see the show. The 3-piece band was sharp and the singer was better. He was a poor man’s Harry Connick Jr. I was flat impressed. I felt guilty because he was better than this place. The bar had a patio, which offered a look up at imposing structures and reminded you that you were in the big city. Always a nice touch. Cricket match, attended the following day, was on the list for novelty sake. It was the Australian national team v. the World All Stars. The stadium was only half full, which surprised. But the fans that braved the trip made the day. Groups of guys would dress up in a theme – tennis players, drag queens, pimps. They had rehearsed cheers. Some fans brought full coolers of food to last them the whole day. There was a lot of drinking. Which is probably necessary because the game itself is a bore.


4. Katoomba (10.10.2005) – A two-hour train ride took us to Katoomba, a bohemian/hippie town that rests on the edge of the Blue Mountains. It was good to get out of the city. It was Monday and we had hit the clubs hard for 3 straight days. House music was still pounding in our ears. We walked through the town to the symbolic entrance to the Blue Mountains, marked by the ‘Three Sisters’ – 3 vertical rock formations that stand close together in remarkable precision. After a good dinner, we hit a bar with a juke box. It was heaven to our ears. And we were not rejected because of the sandals on our feet. We played pool and met quality locals. We needed this night.

3. Blue Mountains (10.11.2005) – Tony and I signed up for an adventure tour. We hopped on a bus with 8 others (a really fun group) and headed into the mountains. The morning was filled with abseiling (the same as rappelling) lessons. The group roped down a sheer 20 meter wall of sandstone, right at the top shelf of the Blue Mountains. You could see through the valley enclosed by the mountain ranges. After a quick lunch, we descended into the belly of the mountains, winding down a steep hiking path. Near the bottom we squeezed into our wet suits to prepare for the canyoning portion of the tour. The wet suits were bright blue. Coupled with our bright yellow safety helmets, we looked like extras in a Beastie Boy video. I pretended I was a super hero and yelled into the sky at the falling meteor I was going to stop. Spirits were high. We jumped knee-deep into the icy water and began snaking through the canyon. The water way was narrow so we had to go single file. The rock formed a spooky hallway that shot straight up into the sky. The sun filtered through the rocks and trees, here and there. Every few hundred feet, there would be a drop in the path and you had to vault yourself in the air and plunge into the water below. Thankfully, nobody cracked open their skulls. The water was violently cold but the wet suits held. At the end of the watery path was a waterfall that dropped directly down into a pool, 40 meters below. This was the climax. We abseiled down this slippery rock face. I was a rookie and it showed. I could not get footing and I swung all over the place – slamming into the rock while water gushed over top of me. But I made it. We all did. It was exhilarating. The guides were great and the group even better.


2. Sounds on Sunday (10.9.2005) An Australian woman (is there a better word for a female? ‘Girl’ sounds too condescending; ‘Lady’ sounds too formal; ‘Woman’ sounds technical for some reason) I met in PNG put me in contact with her brother. He is a bartender/DJ in Sydney. This would be the second time she gave me good information – the first being the skydive place. I called him and he put us on the guest list at the Greenwood Hotel. It was an early-evening event so we took a cab over around 6:30pm. We were back in the same cab coming back across the harbor 3 minutes later because we were wearing open-toed sandals. Damn this dress code.

We came all the way back and it was worth it. There were three bars, strung together. They opened up into a courtyard that seemed to be right smack dab in the middle of North Sydney. Skyskrapers climbed the perimeter. House music poured out from the DJ booth, with live performers sitting rhythms on top of the tracks. Cool vibes. It reminded me of a ‘wet party’ I went to in San Francisco. Good looking crowd. I could not stop myself from moving. The tunes were too good. Monique showed up. I had arranged this but I did not think she was going to show. I was gushing. We went on a dancing marathon for three straight hours. I forgot about everybody else at the club. She was good. I am not good. But I try. And honest effort on the dance floor trumps limited dancing skill every time. Each bar had a different style of music – hip hop, techno, trance. Outside was the best – funky house with the night sky changing from spooky dusk to inky night. It was so much fun I thought I was doing something illegal.

1. Monique. She was the coolest. Much smarter than me but she was nice enough not to rub it in. Great accent (German). Greater walk. She was up for anything. Lustrous hair. Painfully sexy. And she seemed to have a real affection for me and God only knows why.


So that is it. Sydney is quality. It is cool. Clean. Little to no crime. Easy to get around. Great weather. Beautiful skyline surrounded by a network of waterways and you can travel by ferries for cheap. Good culture with free museums, historic neighborhoods and the iconic Opera House. Big sports town. Any kind of food you could ever want. Big nightlife – pubs, bars, 24X7 clubs of every flavor. Attractive people. You can go on the cheap, if you need to. Or you can spend a million dollars in one week. The Botanical Gardens is basically a glamorous park, right on the water. Multiple beaches. Irresponsible gambling, if that is your thing. Major backpacker town. Very international – influences from all over the world. A clash of an old-world British colonial state and an advanced South Pacific nation. Everyone speaks English. The locals are patient and comical. If you want to get out of the city, the Blue Mountains and Hunter Valley are an hour train ride away. The city is designed to accommodate tourists – and it does it well.