Sydney, Day 1

I didn’t quite get the picturesque entry into Sydney that I was hoping for. Apparently the weather gods were displeased last night, and decided to toss our little 777 around like a toy for about 10 hours. In their benevolence, they ceased their tossing while we ate our meals, only to recommence with renewed vigor as soon as the lovely flight attendants had cleared our sad plastic trays. We were ordered to keep our blinds closed in order to preserve the beauty sleep of those automatons that were capable of sleeping through all the excitement, so I didn’t even get to see any of the upside down constellations, or whatever it is that happens in the sky down here. Once I did open the blind, I was amazed by how…fluffy the sea looked. And grey. And then I realized it was clouds. Above us? Also clouds. We were sailing through the middle of a vast cloud forest, the kind of chunky, tangible clouds that form cloud mountains and cloud buildings, that look like you could land on them and take a tour of a cloud village. So while I stared desperately out the window at a lot of grey nothing, hoping for just a peek at the continent I was going to spend the next 3 months on, we landed in Sydney. The mists parted just long enough for me to get an impression of unbelievable green, and then again for one iconic view of the bridge and the opera house (which was loudly announced for everyone to hear by the overweight Southern woman behind me with the consumptive cough, along the lines of “oh look Bill, there’s that building! the whatchamacallit, the symphony, no the aaahhhhpra. Bill, you’re not looking dammit.” I would feel worse for Bill, but he had been hacking up hair balls all night too, so my sympathy for them both was running a little dry). But this green! Nothing I had read prepared me for how stunningly green everything was. I have flown into the midwest in the middle of summer, at the height of its verdure, and it has nothing on Sydney. It looked like a jungle of giant broccoli’s, sprinkled liberally with little crumb houses. It was breathtaking. 

I have since made my way from the airport to the hostel, and am pleased to note that after dealing with the NYC subway system, all other subway systems seem stream-lined, convenient, and clean. The train seemed to be the pinnacle of efficiency, and really, I can’t stress this enough, was spotless; the platform was well-lit and spacious, with a handy little video screen telling me when the next train was due and exactly what stops it would be making. Brilliant. MTA, take notice. You suck. 

I have since discovered that Flat White coffee is delicious, that the either all the baristas here are lovely and full of helpful information or I have just been lucky, and that city centers the world over kind of feel the same. Everyone has apologized to me so far for the fact that it is pissing down rain. Given that I keep hearing that Australia is in the throws of an awful drought, it seems very nice of them to apologize to a tourist for something that is so obviously beneficial to them. Presumably jet lag is going to kick my butt at some point in the very near future, I can only hope I’m near a bed when it happens.