Thoughts on Sydney, Australia
Sydney became an inspiring place for me to be. I may have spent more of time in Australia in Melbourne but Sydney offered more opportunities. Maybe it was the businessman inside myself that saw Australia’s largest city as a place to be. I felt more “at home” in Sydney than in Melbourne.
There is a beauty to Australia that is, perhaps, only lacking in Sydney. It is due to the clichés of the Harbour Bridge and Opera House, images seen in a million places on books, TV, postcards, clothing, promotional material and airports. Seeing them for the first time doesn’t capture the imagination like Uluru did and they become familiar parts of the city when staying for a while.
Sydney appealed more to me in other ways. Staying in Kings Cross, with its bars, nightclubs, brothels and strip clubs was much more fun. Meeting the locals and experiencing something slightly beyond the backpacker trails. If you want to know about the place you are then get to know those who live there. They know more about the places to be, the places to eat and the places to be seen far more than any guide book can ever tell you.
Of course there are the requirements of a tourist or traveller. The Opera House must be visited, Sydney Harbour Bridge (locally and affectionately known as the Coathanger) must be photographed from all available angles and crossed by all means available. The botanical gardens are there to be enjoyed and explored, as are areas such as The Rocks, Darling Harbour, the Powerhouse Museum and Circular Quay. Sydney Tower and the Art Gallery show off more of Sydney. Branch out and take a ferry ride across to Manly and always make sure you get across to Bondi Beach.
Once all that has been accomplished then you can begin to understand and enjoy Sydney far more. This is where the modern Australia as we know it started. From the humble beginnings that began when Botany Bay was not considered suitable and the boats moved up to the impressive natural harbour. Sydney Cove grew. The growth has rarely stopped and now, over 200 years later Sydney is an impressive city.
As in many cities there are the things you miss, the little bits of a city that aren’t hidden but are rarely seen. When you walk around Circular Quay take a look down on what you’re walking on. There are the words and memories of many famous Australians and the nation’s visitors. Writers Walk lines Circular Quay with a series of plaques which vaguely resemble manhole covers. Notable Australian names such as Banjo Patterson, Clive James, Barry Humphries, Germaine Greer, Kenneth Slessor mix with Robert Louis Stevenson, Charles Darwin, Nevil Shute, Rudyard Kipling, Mark Twain and Jack London.
Anyone who has an interest in art should visit the Brett Whiteley Studio. Brett was one of Australia’s finest artists until his death in 1992. Inspiration and art came from his travels around Italy, London’s Swinging Sixties, New York’s Chelsea Hotel and a sheer lust for life mixed with his addictions. Selections of his finest work can be seen in Brett’s Surrey Hills studio as well as the Art Gallery of New South Wales. Brett’s art matched his life and his art shows his life. The inspired matchstick installation “Almost Once” lives near the NSW Art Gallery and a smaller version adorns the front of his studio. To use a Brett Whiteley quote, “Life is brief, but my God, Thursday afternoons seem incredibly long.”
One of those extra little joys of knowing someone like Vivian Hopkirk meant staying in Bronte for a while. There is so much more of the beach and seaside culture to Sydney than Bondi. The walks along the coast and the extra suburbs such as Bronte, Clovelly and Coogee add the beauty of the area.
When I first arrived in Sydney early one morning after an overnight Greyhound brought me from Melbourne Almost Once was the thing that told me I’d arrived in Sydney. Meeting Brett’s nephew, Vivian Hopkirk Whiteley, also provided some colour to Brett’s past and Vivian’s own life has been a patchwork of highs and lows. The curse of the artist.
West from Sydney Harbour Bridge lies Goat Island. A non too impressive lump of rock but home for two years to Charlie Anderson, a convict who tried desperately and fruitlessly to escape. So annoying and troublesome was Charlie that he was chained to Goat Island for two years. During this time he would shout and scream obscenities to passing boats and generally try and irritate anyone who came within earshot of him. Charlie Anderson’s Couch is a seat carved into the rock by fellow convicts to allow Charlie Anderson a non-too comfortable seat.
Fort Denison, to the east of the Coathanger and Opera House, is a marvel of stupidity. A fortress designed to protect Sydney from Russian invasion during the Crimean War. The fort was supposed to house a canon. However, the small structure is nowhere near big enough to house the canon and nor could it be fired through the holes. Add to the small matter of an enclosed space mixed with the extreme noise levels of a canon and the whole project was a complete and utter failure.
There is also the night life in Sydney. I have some fond memories of the places I’ve eaten and the bars I’ve drunk in. Joe’s Café on Victoria St in Kings Cross became a favourite place to be, the food was good but the coffee was wonderful and many a day was passed in the company of Vivian Hopkirk.
The night’s were a mix of exploration. Three Wise Monkeys and Scruffy Murphy’s were two often overcrowded favourite bars. I cannot now remember the names of others. Nor, I suspect, did I ever really know them while in there. The joy of a backpacker life meant regular trips to the hostel by local bar staff handing out free entry or free beer vouchers. Having a stamped hand with more than one bar name the following morning usually meant a good night out.
The strip clubs and brothels also became a good way of ending a night. Staying so close to Darlinghurst Road meant any good night could be finished off in one of the numerous and frequently name changing establishments.
I also had two wonderful nights which were not related to Sydney, they could have happened anywhere, but they happened in Sydney. Watching Henry Rollins perform one of his talking shows (he’s smaller than he looks) meant enjoying the great man wax lyrical for a couple of hours. The other night involved the opening of Revenge of the Sith. Never have I experienced a night with such a fun audience. I don’t know how many years it had been since an audience reacted in a cinema with laughs, cheers and boos. I relived the cinema of my youth with the saga that has dominated my life.
The truth is I could have stayed in Sydney much longer than I did. I had to get away or I would have used my entire visa time there. I wanted to stay.
Melbourne is the place to be in Australia but Sydney is the place I want to live.
