Sydney

After the small-town feeling, sweeping beaches and inbreeding of places like Corindi and Cessnock, driving into Sydney over the Anzac Bridge was slightly overwhelming. So much so that we had to stop for chocolate and swap drivers so that Frenchie, rather than I had to deal with things like traffic lights and gear changes.

The rest of the day was spent doing very little other than saying goodbye to Tin Can 1 and vegetating in a room that was more than 2 square metres large.

The following day, however, we set off on a mission to learn about historical stuff and see impressive and world famous architecture. My agenda was filled with visions of tacky tourist photos in front of opera houses and bridges, whether Frenchie liked it or not and lo and behold, the photos were taken and Frenchie realised that tacky tourism is really fun!

Obviously, it rained for almost the whole day, because I'm British and I'd called ahead to make sure that the weather was to my liking.

Also to my liking was the collection of books in the Royal Mint library:

If you can't read it properly, the big book at the bottom is entitled 'Notorious Strumpets and Dangerous Girls', which is my second favourite book, the first being the third book down, 'Depraved and Disorderly'.

So we walked and walked and saw lots of churches and men playing giant chess and Art Deco type buildings and impressive streets and convict prisons and stuff, and then, with trumpets fanfaring, we rounded the corner to this: aaaaaaah.  Less exciting when it's sideways, but you get the idea.

Have a nighttime one, too:

We tried to get tickets to see Tosca, but since Australia believes that art definitely is not for everyone, we decided to waive the $300 charge and sing to ourselves in front of the opera house instead. It was just as good as the Sydney Opera Company, I assure you. 

We then walked through the pretty colonial dockyard of The Rocks, all the way up to the bridge, which was big and impressive and very high. 

All very exhausting, so the next day we had a museum day and got childish around some exhibitions, and then discovered an entirely pretentious Clapham-come-Islington-come-Brixton street called Newtown with lots of cool and trendy shops on it that I loved and Frenchie rolled his eyes at, though judging from this photo in a very trendy shop, he was loving every second of it:

 

TOO CUTE!

Back in another Tin Can very soon and onwards into the wilderness once more.  Over and out for now.