Exploring Sydney

Zombie-Sarah was unleashed on Sydney today. I'm amazed people didn't flee from my, no doubt hideous, state as I blundered from tourist spot to tourist spot on only 2 hours of sleep. Not my smartest move, but there were too many sites to resist!

Sydney is an unusual place filled with unusual people. The city is a combination of old and new, rather like New Orleans. The rolling hills of San Francisco and the cottages and alleyways of London merge together with the safe, clean feeling of Denver. Most people are either backpackers or Asian tourists...either way I'm still being assaulted by languages I don't understand. English continues to startle me when spoken. This mishmash of people and buildings confuses me and I keep forgetting where I am.

I started out the day by wandering over to the Chinese Gardens in Darling Harbour (because I'm still in China-mode). What a laugh! I must have warped into a China-snob in the last week because I took time out of my day to mock this place. The willow trees were limp and yellow, nothing like the vibrant, graceful limbs of China's; pigeons crowded every level of a pagoda decoration in the fountain; the roof tiling carried a plastic sheen; and the guardian dragons looked comical: their tongues lolling and their paw drunkenly cuffing their young. Surprisingly, I decided not to pay the $10 for tour and tea service. Just as well, really. I've got to get out of yen-mentality; dollars are dollars here, mate!

Denied the pleasures of a Chinese Garden I walked along Cockle Bay wharf (with cockles and mussels, alive, alive-o!). The sun had warmed the day to perhaps 60 degrees and tourists and locals bustled along the wooden docks while the expensive, white yachts were busy shining. A yawning archway in the shape of a shark's mouth welcomed me to the famous Sydney Aquarium. I repented my laughter of before - THIS was why people come to Australia!

I am not particularly fascinated by fish, but I do appreciate beauty. Between the informative displays on individual fish, the difference between salt and fresh-water crocs, and reef construction were some of the most amazing creatures I've ever seen. Long-necked turtles weaved through murky tanks in a sinuous dance; penguins sat upon their rocks rustling their feathers and shaking it for all it's worth; seals huffed damply at their audience as they flowed over and around each other. The underwater walkways were the true shows, though. Giant sea turtles and manta rays dwarfed the predators in the tank while saucy little fish dashed along at eye-level. At the touch-tanks I pet a 4-pronged blue starfish and learned of the age-old battle of starfish vs. damsel fish; damsel fish are adorable, bright-blue fish that flit about stealing food from the starfish. Stay strong, my starfish friend! And try not to contort yourself into further loss of limb.

Aside from the magic of the giant tanks and long-suffering starfish, my favorite part of the museum was the platypus display. One of the information signs told an aboriginal tale of the platypus. In dreamtime, all the animals were dividing up by type. The birds got together and decided to invite platypus because she had to lay eggs as they did. Platypus was flattered, but didn't really feel right about accepting because she didn't fly. She decided to think about it. Then the mammals and fish got together and invited platypus because she had fur like the mammals and swam like the fish. Platypus was again flattered, but unsure of either offer. So she called all the groups to meet together in peace. She said that their offers were very kind but she couldn't accept any. She was glad to be friend to all, because she understood the plight of each group. And since then, the aboriginals took the sighting of the platypus to be a sign of luck and friendship. It's like I've always said: Screw evolution, maybe the platypus was right!

After the Aquarium, I walked to the Sydney Observatory. It's a rather small building with one of the best views in the city. Inside was a rather odd collection of historical artifacts ranging from ancient telescopes to glass-encased examples of old bathing suits worn in the heat wave of 1867. I signed up for a night-viewing and went to see the Harbour Bridge. Climbing the bridge would have been $179. I don't know how these people climb at night! Resisting the urge to haggle, I walked along the bridge path instead. The opera house glistened below, a spunky counterpoint to the Beijing Opera.

My favorite part of today was probably the hidden alley ways that carve up the blocks between major streets. The stairs and walkways are roughly cobbled and the building walls slant in or out at odd angles to narrow the alley. These alleys were once the underbelly of the city in the late 1800's, filled with point-shoed male thugs and the broad-brimmed hats of ladies of questionable virtue. And there I was, nibbling a muffin in their old haunts. History truly does disconnect from places; it is people that made the alleys what they were and it is in people that they remain special.

The night viewing at the observatory was definitely lessened by my inability to remain awake. The astronomer was a large, be-whiskered man who pointed out the Southern Cross and Alpha & Beta Centauri with a laser pointer that could blind plane pilots! About 20 tourists crowded into the freezing dome-topped tower with me to get a closer look at the universe - explained with an Australian accent.

Big day, but not a bad way to burst back onto the Aussie scene.