The Manly Ferry...

Resting the feet after another day exploring OzÉ.

Have I explained that "Oz" is what they call Australia down under? You know, as in "Aussie" pronounced "Ozzie", hence Oz. It was a long balloon ride getting hereÉ.

Anyway, we slept in a bit, taking advantage of Saturday morning. We went out this week and bought a French press coffee pot ("plungers" they call them) so that we could brew our own coffee and save the $5.50 per plunger charged by the hotel. Janet looked all over for a drip cone, but they don't sell those down here--they believe drip coffee to be inferior. But we went to Woolworth's (not like our F.W.Woolworth, but a home-grown Aussie conglomerate: they're the ones who bought Dick Smith Electronics, leading to the demise of my job there, lo those many years ago) where we found a cheap but serviceable Chinese product as well as ample supplies of coffee. And now we enjoy the pleasure of a fresh-brewed pot whenever we please, as we did this morning.

After leisurely coffee, a check of the email, and a few phone messages, we headed off to the Circular Quay (pronounced "key", remember?) to catch the ferry to Manly (the famous "Manly ferry"). We decided to take the train (a subway at this point in its route) to Circular Quay, since we knew we would be walking a lot today. As we crossed the street to enter St. James Station, I saw a crowd gathering at the fountain in Hyde Park. At the park entrance (next to the train station) there was a table set up with literature protesting the situation in East Timor. Silly me, I didn't put the two together; but when we were on the train I saw a poster announcing a big "Emergency Rally" that was being held at 11 am at the fountain. East Timor is very big news down here. Not surprising, when you look at the map and see that it is a very short distance across the Timor Strait from northern Australia. We chatted with a man on the train who expressed his dismay that the US was not as forthcoming in support for the East Timorese as we were in Kosovo. The situation in Dili has escalated rapidly and certainly appears dire: thousands of people massacred by pro-Jakarta militia (in response to an 80% vote for independence) and hundreds of thousands forced to flee--all in the space of less than a week. Australian labor unions are quite militant in their support of East Timor, and local awareness of the issue is high, as our conversation demonstrated.

The Circular Quay is the hub of the Sydney ferry system. They have an incredible network that spans Sydney Harbor, extending all the way up the Parramatta River to Homebush, very near the Olympic Park (and the Acer office). I'm wishing I could catch a ferry in downtown Antioch and take it all the way to Emeryville or San Francisco. Anyway, the ferry runs to Manly every half hour on Saturdays. Our round-trip (known locally as "return") tickets cost $9.20 AU each. We caught the 11:30 boat, a large vessel with 2 passenger decks. We rode outside, on the bow, a half hour trip to Manly. Lots of windsurfers out on two-person craft, criss-crossing in front of us. One pair had their mast snap, and they went down just ahead of us, leading the ferry captain to blow his very loud horn in a meaningless warning. The competing harbor traffic caused Janet to speculate that a Bay Area ferry system is an unlikely prospect from a standpoint of legal liability and opposition from the watersport community. Manly is just in from North Head, the northern point at the entrance to Sydney Harbor. Passing the mouth of the harbor (or should I write "harbour"?), we encountered some choppy waters coming in from the Pacific. We saw the Sydney-bound ferry navigate some rough waves as we passed it on our way into Manly Wharf, and it became clear why they put the big boats on this run.

Docking in Manly, we found a pleasant little beach town, with a promenade called the Corso lined with surf shops, souvenirs, and food. It was lunchtime, and we were hungry. We noted an interesting little restaurant across from the wharf called out of africa (and out of capital letters as well, I guess). They were not quite open, so we strolled the Corso to the beach (about two blocks, cutting across the neck of the Manly peninsula, from the harbor side to the ocean side. After getting our first look at genuine Australian surfers (not too impressive, as the waves weren't good, and I'm sure this is not really the surfers' beach), we strolled back for a delightful lunch of North African cuisine. Unlike our typical Sydney restaurant experiences, the service was relatively speedy, and we were out of there in an hour.

We returned to the beach and followed an oceanside promenade south to a sheltered little beach nestled inside a promontory at south end of this little bay. We took a delightful path through the shrubs and small trees that covered the promontory, finding an excellent vantage point above the surfers and boogie-boarders who were waiting to catch any waves breaking at the corner of the bay. It was a perfect spot toÉcontemplate the North Coast beaches. We could see a string of four beaches, including Manly, extending to the end of another peninsula in the distance. We took pictures, watched the surfers and the sailboats, and walked back into Manly hatching a plan to return early some morning to photograph the sun rising over the Pacific.

On the Corso, we stopped for coffee and pastry, strolled a street market, and hopped back on the ferry, hoping to catch the Harbour Bridge and Opera House at sunset. We arrived a bit before sunset, so I dragged poor Janet to the Botanical Garden, where I could get a good sunset vantage point for a photo of the Bridge and Opera House. From there, we still had to walk home. On our painful walk, we saw several bridal processions gathering for photo opps at the NSW Art Gallery. They must have had a special on wedding pictures; the place was all lit up, with dramatic lighting on the classical columns. Arriving at the hotel, we passed yet another wedding group, with limos waiting at the door, and bridesmaids swooshing through the lobby. Springtime in Australia.

Sunday, 9/11/99

A bit worn from our excursion yesterday, we decided to take a lazy Sunday, going out for brunch about 10:30. We crossed Hyde Park to Oxford Street, where we found pancakes for Janet at a nouvelle Italian place. I had the mushroom risotto cakes with roasted peppers.

From there we strolled Oxford Street to Darlinghurst, and it slowly dawned on me that this was something of Polk Street neighborhood (not quite as classy as the Castro). As I started looking beyond the bewildering number and variety of eating establishments (Vietnamese, Cambodian, Turkish, Indian, Northern Indian, Balkan) when we got to the Californian, I started noticing the patrons. Suddenly the proliferation of sexually oriented clothing, bookstores, and other businesses started to make sense. We saw a sign for aboriginal art, and we surprised the gallery attendant and his friend in an embrace when we descended the stairs to enter the downstairs establishment unannounced. They seemed embarrassed, so we said, "Oh, it's all right: we're from San Francisco." Always the icebreaker.

A leisurely stroll back through the park to the hotel, appreciating the spring flowers as they begin to blossom. All familiar to Janet, just like springtime at home. Back in the hotel, we worked on Janet's plot for a while, then went up to the gym for a light workout, sauna, and a swim. It was my first time in the pool, although Janet has already enjoyed it. Indeed, it is a spectacular swimming experience. On the 22nd floor with a skylight view of the City Centre tower, panoramic views of the harbor and the city, and a lovely balcony overlooking the park.

Energized, we dressed again and walked a couple of blocks down Market Street to catch the monorail to Darling Harbour. Since Darling Harbour was only the second stop from our embarcation, we decided to do the whole circuit, which only took about 15 minutes. The monorail is essentially a tourist/shopper convenience, making a big loop through downtown Sydney from shopping area to shopping area. The adult fare is $3 per trip, regardless of where you're going, but you can get an all-day pass for $6. So we passed the two Darling Harbor exits, the Convention Centre, the Haymarket/Chinatown stop, the movie district, and back through the downtown shopping stops to get off again at the Darling Harbor stop. Just like Disneyland, with better shopping opportunities. The south end of Darling Harbor is called Cockle Bay. This is the major tourist play area in downtown Sydney, a pleasant pedestrian promenade with nice restaurants (good band playing in the first place we passed, nice sax work) and bars and shops. A big Imax theatre showing T-rex and scenes of Sydney. Another walkway leads under the freeway to the Chinese Gardens and Sega World, but we continue past the Convention Centre and the buskers (street performers) to shops and arcades of Harbourside. Beyond here is the Novotel Hotel in one direction, the Maritime Museum in another, and in the distance, the casinos of Star City.

But Janet has in mind a particular shop in Harbourside that features ice creams with interesting indigenous flavors. After some investigation of the restaurant options in the mall, we eschew another "dining experience" for some timely takeaway from the food court. Janet satisfies her craving for fish & chips, and I find ample options at the noodle booth. As we ate we watched the light show on the harbor: after sunset (as the neon begins to light the skyline of Sydney), they put on a water laser show every hour or so. There are two fountains sticking out of the water at the south end of Cockle Bay (in front of the Imax). They spray a large fine mist from each fountain and then project laser light shows onto the mist screens. After the light show, we went for the ice cream. Black sesame was our mutual favourite; for a second scoop, Janet chose quandong (a local version of peach) while I indulged in more macadamia. We enjoyed our ice cream (in huge waffle cones) almost all the way back to the hotel.

And here we lounge, finishing up one week, preparing for the next. Having finished this chronicle, it's time for me to dive into the paper work for my weekly expense reportÉjust racking up those American Express reward points; but if the company doesn't reimburse in a timely fashionÉ I had to go up to David's room this evening to enter my time on his laptop: I still can't connect to our Notes server, because our company, incredibly, has little or no IT infrastructure of its own, and they instituted a new system that does not support Win98, and if I happen to be running Win98 (on the computer they gave me), well, tough luck. Sorry. I don't want to get into all that É

The project continues to flirt with meltdown, so, although I'm currently scheduled to be here until October 9, who knows? That could change by the end of the week. Stay tuned.

Love, Marc