Friday, March 7, 2008

Southern Cross: Sydney AU Arrival

When you see the Southern Cross for the first time you understand now why you came this way. And so I came to see Leah, here in Sydney Australia, half way around the world both longitudinally and by latitude. Our ship entered Sydney harbor in early morning darkness, the "sails" of the Opera House contrasting white; the Sydney Harbor Bridge illuminated by linear blue and white lights as we sailed underneath. Darkness melted away into light as we docked in Darlington Harbor. After our last aboard meal at the Lido deck buffet, Kathy and I waited in our cabin, expectantly awaiting our "Red # 2" to be called. Finally, after numbered 1 through 4 black, white, blue, yellow, red #1, then our turn. Baggage already ashore waiting. A short walk along Main deck #5, gangway to shore and voila, we are landed! Once on terra ferma, we call Leah. She is a short train ride away, coming our way. Time passes as Circular Quay and Quay #8 are once believed to be one, but were not. More phone calls back and forth. At last, "Hi Kathy, Hi Dad!" Hugs and prolonged embrace. For a taxi, we get in a line snaking half-way around the building. Luggage loaded we taxied down one-way tree lined alleys wide enough for horse and carriage amongst one and two story houses abutting one another.  
153 Union Street is iron gated and rises 5 uneven steps to a concrete porch, windows and doors iron barred. Double doors open to a "shotgun" house: a side hall leads to: bedroom, bedroom, kitchen, living room, bath and laundry room, opening out to a backyard and a no longer functioning brick outhouse. In the backyard, I could see the tin and tile roofs of surrounding houses plus the many character chimney tops reminiscent of those I saw on our train ride out of London England. 
Roxie greeted us, a mixed golden retriever with a embracing personality, friendly, pettable right from the start; all good omens. More phone calls, this time to Andrew: we will meet him in the "Rocks". And so our adventure with Leah in Australia begins.

This is Saturday, there is a street fair in the Rocks, the oldest part of Sydney. In the beginning, 7 ships from England landed with its cargo of prisoners who had endured 8 months below decks. Today, trinkets and goodies, some hand made, others from China overflow stall counters. The cover is to protect us from the sun and its high UV index. Tomorrow, Sunday, the stalls and cover will be gone. I follow Leah's and Kathy's trail as they browse, they chatting with one another about how this would look; wouldn't that look good on....; I really need to have this, "how much for this?" Having coursed the outside stalls, we plunge into the jostle of the center concourse on our return. We are to meet Andrew at the entrance of the fair, essentially, from which we began. As I dawdle behind, I listen to people speak, their accents, a mixture of native speakers, tourists from cruise boats, and truly foreign language speakers, all murmuring and gesturing  with similar intent and involvement as my two companions. 
Andrew spots Leah, and finally we meet him. "It is very nice to meet you, Leah has told us about you." A blond haired blue-eyed man, a firm handshake, bit of an Aussie accent, direct conversation, and a fast paced walk.
We stand for picture taking in front of the memorial to the early colonists who were to build a city and eventually a nation in this parched land, to include convict labor. Nobody had it easy, nor was any of this "free."
Our next agenda would be lunch and beer; a walk along Circular Quay, hub of ferries traveling throughout Sydney Harbor, the "Majestic" cruise boat that we had chased around Milford Sound NZ and lost sight of in the fog and diverging courses. To the West, is the Sydney Opera House complex where we will see Shakespeare's "As You Like It" upon our return from the Hunter Valley later on in our stay. Past the Opera House are the Botanical Gardens and our destination at the Domain, an open air short film festival. Our walk through the Botanical Gardens is a prelude to Kathy and my tour of the Hunter Valley Gardens. We laid out our ground cloth in a shady part of the grass. There were already thousands of people spread out on the grass and more coming; maybe 50 or 60 thousand eventually. Thirteen 7 minute short films began at dusk and took us into the chill of the evening, intermittently punctuated by the winged Foxbats migrating to their evening roost. It seems that they are pests now, having grown in large numbers and, by their weight, breaking tree branches in the Park.
The postscript to the films was our walk, through London based named parks, Hyde Park,  and surrounding Churches, to the trains for our ride back to Newtown. A CD of the films was enclosed with the Sunday morning Sydney Times. Andrew got a paper and its CD for us, which we can share. So ended our first day in Sydney; many memories created, snapshots of which enter my thoughts now as well as the emotions of arrival. I am here at last. 

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