Another view of the Sydney Opera House, this time with slightly nicer weather

The Rocks

Sydney Harbour Bridge

Transport, Aussie-style Saturday market at The Rocks, Sydney

Saturday market at The Rocks, Sydney

Lots of handicrafts on offer...

A glassblower goes about his work

I must have ‘tourist’ written all over my forehead.  With time to kill, I decided to head down to the Saturday market at The Rocks, near Circular Quay.  I was pretty impressed, because the quality of what was offered was pretty good as compared to most tourist markets.  Most of the handicrafts were genuinely hand-crafted, and although prices were high, I didn’t feel like I was being ripped off with the usual tourist-tat.

Which meant that I came home with quite a lot more than I intended to.  It drives Aude crazy, because getting me to buy souvenirs is usually like getting blood from a stone.  Unless it’s something really unusual, I simply won’t buy it.  Which is why I’m as surprised as anyone about coming home with quite a few things, and having my eye on even more things.

Maybe it’s because the things on offer here often crossed that thin line between ‘tourist souvenir’ and ‘art’.  They are souvenirs in the truest sense of the word: one-off creations by artisans that are unique to this place, and will help me remember my visit here.  I wish I could find more of these sorts of souvenirs elsewhere in my travels, but usually it’s just overpriced crappy trinkets.

I’m still on the look-out for one or two more souvenirs, though.  We have two puppets from Singapore on our stairs, and I’m still searching for the elusive counterpart to go with them.

Sydney Harbour Bridge

A street performer juggles two swords and an apple

The juggler expresses his opinion of a stander-by who didn't leave a tip...

Sydney Opera House on a cloudy, stormy day

Please walk on the grass...

Government House, Sydney

Royal Botanical Gardens, Sydney

Royal Botanical Gardens, Sydney

Decided to get out of the hotel and take a walk around the harbour.  Headed down to Circular Quay and the Rocks, past the Opera House and on to the Botanical Gardens, one of my favourite spots in Sydney.  It was completely deserted on a cloudy Friday afternoon.

You really get the perspective of size and space here – on a totally different scale to Europe.  It was nice to have the park to myself.

Sydney is much more expensive than I remember it.  I’m not sure if that’s because of the strong Australian dollar or whether it’s because I now convert back to Swiss francs instead of British pounds, but in any case my money doesn’t seem to go nearly as far as I remember it going before. 

Maybe I’m just getting miserly in my old age.

It poured with rain last night, the kind of thunderstorm I remember from growing up on the East Coast of the US.  I managed to make it back to the hotel just before the heavens opened, watching the storm from the hotel bar with a glass of Australian Pinot Grigio in my hand.  I love thunderstorms.  It was a perfect way to end an evening.

Sadly, the rain has continued into Saturday, thwarting my plans to head down to Bondi Beach for some golf and a suntan.  I’m working on an indoor Plan B – right now, leading contenders are the Aquarium, a photo exhibit, or some shopping.

Friday lunchtime drinks were just the warm-up.  Here’s the same pub at 5pm.

Went out to explore the local area, which is in the heart of the business district.  Delighted to see that all of the pubs are overflowing with people, enjoying the warm sunshine and a mid-summer pint on a Friday afternoon. 

The tradition of a lunchtime pint on a sunny Friday is dying out in the UK (and doesn’t exist at all in Switzerland or France), so it’s a pleasure to see it alive-and-well here.

When in Rome…

Finally made it to Sydney after a long, long flight.  Screaming baby behind me for nine hours, which meant that I didn’t get much sleep.  Delightful parents who thought that a business-class seat made a much nicer changing table than the changing table in the bathroom.  Particularly delightful since they decided to release their little darling’s stink bomb just before dinner was served.  Thank goodness they don’t have ejector seats on commercial flights.  I was sorely tempted to pull the handle.

Eagle-eyed readers will notice that the photo here shows a baggage tag.  Yes, I succumbed.  Due to the new security regulations in India, you can only carry on a single item of less than 8kg.  So my cunning plan of spending 11 days in Asia with only hand luggage was thwarted, meaning I had to wait 20 minutes for my bags to come off the belt in Sydney.

I obviously don’t match the description of an agricultural smuggler, so I was waved through customs, agriculture, and quarantine and straight into a taxi to the hotel.

Despite quite a lot of time traveling the globe, I’m still not a whiz with time zones.  So it didn’t come as a total surprise to receive a phone call at 11pm while enjoying a beer in the hotel bar – my bi-weekly call with one of my colleagues.  We’d very carefully arranged the call to be after I’d finished my business day in Mumbai.  I’d calculated the hour just fine.  I’d screwed up the day.  Luckily he’s also got pan-Asian responsibility, and is understanding of mix-ups like these.

Slept like a log last night, and woke up today feeling refreshed.  It’s warm and sunny today, and I’m headed out like Tommy Tourist, in a tee-shirt (okay, who are we kidding…a polo shirt) and camera in tow.

Signs that you’re staying in a five-star hotel: “Deluxe” sanitary bag and “Luxury” shower cap. Before you ask, no I didn’t figure out what makes it “deluxe.” Maybe it’s lined with silk, but even in the name of photojournalism, I’m not investigating.