Throwing a couple of sunglasses into my suitcases, along with hats, shorts and some very, very heavy-duty sun cream, I sang: “I’m off to see the Wizard – the Wonderful Wizard of Oz.”
At which point my husband asked: “Darling, why are you packing to watch a film on television? And it’s not going to be on for ages. Christmas is months away.” Very funny. “Not that Oz,” I replied. “I’m going to be Australia’s own Dorothy. Throw another shrimp on the barbie because Sydney, here I come.”
I’ve always wanted to see Australia, not least to check out if koala bears really exist. And so, in lieu of a house swept up in a tornado, a la the original Dorothy, I opted for a rather more comfortable means of getting there via a Qantas double-decker. It’s 22 hours flying time from London to Sydney, possums, so if you can I’d recommend breaking it up with Singapore or Hong Kong.
But I was extremely keen to get there, so I did it in one go, with the result that when I got off the plane, the combination of the sheer beauty of the place and jet lag really did make me feel as if I’d woken up in an alternative reality. And I’d landed the furthest I’d ever been from home.
First impressions: I absolutely loved it. Sydney is so green it could easily be the Emerald City, while it was far more sophisticated and cosmopolitan than I’d been expecting (Dame Edna would have a lot to answer for and yes, I know she was from Melbourne.) And the Australian sense of humour is dry and laconic, very similar to ours.
The city is beautiful and the spectacular Sydney Opera House is worth those 22 flying hours alone. In pictures, it looks as if it’s slightly separate from the main body of the city, but actually it’s right at the heart of everything. People who are not going to see a performance congregate there because there are many bars and restaurants dotted around. A chum who has lived in the UK for 20 years but is a Sydney native, says she always arranges to meet friends there.
The locals, incidentally, have been known to observe that it looks like nuns in a rugby scrum. Inside, the building is vast and cavernous and home to a number of theatres, including one which housed the Australian Ballet performing Nijinsky and I scored myself a ticket.
Ballet, champagne – the Aussies live very well – and the most spectacular views over the harbour? Strewth, this is my kinda town. But we Dorothys are made of stern stuff and as well as knocking back fizz and appreciating high culture, there’s a city to explore.
With three clicks of the heels of her red shoes Dorothy could soar to the top of Sydney Harbour Bridge – but the rest of us are more prosaically able to climb it. In total, it takes about three hours and provides you with more world-class views. Incidentally, you are breathalysed for safety before you’re allowed on the bridge, so hold back on the fermented fruits of the country’s numerous vineyards the night before.
My personal Yellow Brick Road was George Street, which runs through the heart of the commercial and business district, which is also the best shopping area in the city. You can take the girl out of the Kansas shopping mall but you can’t take the Kansas shopping mall etc etc.
Check out the Queen Victoria Building, home to shops and cafes. There you will find international brands as well as Australian designer labels, which tend to be very brightly patterned – absolutely beautiful. I recommend Camilla and Leona Edmiston, where, in lieu of red shoes, I invested in a beautiful red silk dress. A local speciality, incidentally, are Australian opals, and you will find many jewellery stores selling them.
Sydney is a very modern city but, of course, it is part of a history that extends back 65,000 years. There is a great deal of debate about what to call the people who were originally there before Europeans, including among those people themselves, but I’m going with indigenous on the grounds that it doesn’t seem to offend anyone.
And so I found myself on a Guided Tribal Warrior Cultural Cruise, a tour of Sydney harbour by boat. “Here are the life jackets in case there’s an iceberg in the harbour,” said the skipper (it was a boiling hot day and I told you the humour is laconic).
We sailed to Clark Island, once a sacred ground for some of the indigenous people and these days, while much of it is open to tourists, there are some bits you must stay away from. We were shown around by a very personable indigenous brother and sister team – he played the didgeridoo to welcome us on to the island, and if you’re a woman, here’s a heads up – didgeridon’t touch it. Not culturally sound.
There we learned about ancient methods of fishing and farming while the men in our group were taught how to perform a traditional courtship dance. It is the women who choose their partners in this matriarchal society, although it is also said in the West that men chase and women choose. More in common under the skin and all that.
And you can’t visit Sydney without going to the beach. Bondi is the most famous one but another option, and it is worth it, is Manly Beach, a short ferry ride from Circular Quay, near the Harbour Bridge. We walked through the centre of the pleasant suburb to Cabbage Tree Bay – many restaurants were advertising Manly fish, which I first took to be extremely macho ocean life and then suddenly realised they were local fare.
You can snorkel to get close-ups of oceanic life or simply wade through the surf and the fish will swim up to say hello. Or will they? Were they swimming – or circling? This is Australia, after all. The most common fish is the grouper: the male of which is blue and the female brown. He can fertilise up to five females, but if he dies, the strongest female will change sex, turn blue herself, and start fertilising off her own back, or gills, or whatever it is that fish do. They’re very pragmatic in Oz. Two of us stopped at a local cafe where I learned about a speciality you will find everywhere. “I’ll bring you some banana bread,” said the waitress, magicking up a loaf and some butter enhanced with maple syrup.
“No I couldn’t possibly, it’s totally against my diet,” I said. “Oh my word that smells amazing. Perhaps another slice.” No wonder this is such a sporty culture, they need to work off all the fantastic Aussie cuisine. I never did get a shrimp from a barbie but the fish I did have was superb. It was Australia that gave us fusion cooking, originally a combination of Japanese food and that of the West.
On the way back to the ferry I stopped at a shop called Budgy Smuggler to buy, yes, a budgie smuggler for my very own Wizard of Oz – he laughed uproariously when he saw it but strangely has yet to try it on – before going back to sample the multiple delights the city has to offer.
The tranquil Royal Botanic Garden is home both to indigenous species and those brought in from abroad. It also offers stunning views of the Opera House and the bridge from across the harbour. Slightly further out is Taronga Zoo, where you can both stay and dine and appreciate yet more spectacular harbour views.
And the zoo is probably your best bet to see a koala bear as their natural habitat has been damaged in recent years. My only complaint about Sydney is that I didn’t have enough time there. There are numerous museums, art galleries, restaurants – you could spend weeks there and never be bored. Would I go back? Like a shot and this time for longer.
The whole place is magical. Simply wizard, in fact.
GET THERE
Qantas flies from Heathrow to Sydney starting at £1,475 return, £3,097 in Premium Economy. qantas.com
BOOK IT
Rooms at The Langham hotel, Sydney, start at around £240 a night. langhamhotels.com/sydney
MORE INFO
visitnsw.com