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Sydney for starters

One can always find things to complain about if one really tries. For example, the BA business class flight to Sydney was rife with problems, such as:

  • one had to make one’s own bed. Yes, the White Company bedding was lush, and the flatbed/footstool combo surprisingly comfortable – but really!
  • the dining menu options were mostly things we don’t particularly like – though the chicken pak choi turned out to be pretty good, and the smoked duck breast starter delicious.
  • the bubbly wasn’t Bolly, darlings. Yes, it was good. But it wasn’t Bolly.
  • morning croissants should be served warm, as well as delicious and fresh. Two out of three just isn’t good enough.
  • our (effectively) private cabin area wasn’t big enough to swing a cat in. Unless it was a small cat, who didn’t object to the odd thump.

That said – yes, fabulous flight, and I am very keen never to fly economy again, please. We both slept on both of the flights and feel reasonably human today – which never happens after the usual crick-neck upright economy seats.

Pseudo cabin, does the job
Breakfast. Milk wasn’t frothed properly, too.

Ohai, Sydney. We brought clouds!

I hope they’re grateful. Apparently it’s been blistering hot here – but today’s been cloudy, and just high twenties (which would be a national emergency heatwave in Ireland). A good day to mooch our way to Bondi beach, as the hotel room wouldn’t be ready for hours yet.

Look! I managed to make Bondi beach look like Tramore! Unparalleled photographic skills.

Vague memory of Sydney from backpacking way back in 2001, was a mixture of bland suburbs (staying with a friend) and seedy modern city (staying around King’s Cross), mixed with a few tourist hotspots like the opera house and bridge.

Different experience this time. Woollahra area, where we’re staying, is gorgeous – old school Victorian colonial buildings with surprisingly delicate lace-like ironwork balconies; wide parklands of curious trees; and an excess of charming cafes and restaurants dotted everywhere. Even the supermarkets feel nice, in a way that our local Tescos firmly doesn’t; and independent bakeries and butchers abound. Bondi beach, even on a relatively cloudy day, is still beautiful – the sand ludicrously white and fine and above all else, startlingly clean – they’ve even banned cigarettes from the beach, so there’s not as much as a fag butt anywhere in sight. Wimped out of swimming there today – water felt freezing cold – but admired the surfers’ tenacity (and that it looked like about half female surfers – most surf places I’ve seen tend to be 99% male).

Anyway – time to head out exploring again, and ignore the jetlag screaming that it’s 4am and long overdue time for bed – still five hours to go till any kind of semi respectable bedtime (9pm is almost respectable, right?).

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