← PreviousDiscovering a Chinese airportAs I stepped off the plane, I couldn't help thinking about the first step I was about to take. I said goodbye to the captain and touched Australian soil. For the first time I was so far from home without really knowing when I'd go back. The feeling of freedom was truly intoxicating. We followed the signs to collect our luggage, hoping it had followed our journey across China. After a few minutes' wait around the third carousel, we saw our brand-new suitcases slowly coming towards us on the belt.
They were in perfect condition, and we wheeled them to the toilets to change into clothes better suited to the heat awaiting us. It was 7:30 am in Australia and the outside temperature in Sydney was already 24 degrees. Once we'd put on the shorts-and-T-shirt outfit of the perfect Sydneysider, we headed for customs. We got the necessary papers ready, a little anxious that we'd forgotten something among all the supporting documents. The customs officer took our passports and looked at us, laughing:
"French?" he said, tapping our burgundy documents stamped with the emblem of the French Republic.
"Yes," we answered at the same time.
"Bonjour et bienvenue en Australie," he surprised us in rough but understandable French, waving us through. "Bon voyage!"
He'd barely looked at our papers, but we didn't care. We hadn't hit any snags and could already go looking for the train. We'd booked an Airbnb in Mascot, the suburb as close as possible to the airport. Our host had kindly told us we could arrive whenever we liked. We followed the signs, already getting used to seeing everything written in English, which guided us to the train. We only had two stops to go and the train came fairly quickly.
Time for our first southern-hemisphere shock: air conditioning on public transport. We went from a temperature close to 30 degrees on the platform to under 20 in the carriage. At first we thought something was malfunctioning, but watching the other passengers led us to conclude it was routine. We quickly got two jackets out of our suitcases and got off at our stop.
Mascot station was on a very pleasant little square surrounded by low buildings. We found our way using the information we'd saved and arrived, taking our time, in front of our building. Aydan, our host, had hidden the keys for us under a stone in a flower bed in front of the entrance. It was our first encounter with Australian carefreeness. He hadn't even wondered what would happen if they were stolen. It just wasn't the way he thought.
Keys in hand, we followed the instructions and soon found ourselves in a spacious room with our own bathroom. After 34 hours of door-to-door travel, we were finally settled. It was still very early, barely 8 am, so we took the chance to lie down — but not to sleep, as we'd decided beforehand that we had to hold out until evening to have a chance of getting into the rhythm as quickly as possible. And what better than moving about to avoid falling into the arms of Morpheus? We quickly realised an obvious detail had escaped us. We hadn't thought about the different plugs in France and Australia, and we couldn't charge our devices. After some searching online, we found there was a DIY store a stone's throw away and went there to buy adapters. We faced our first transaction in the language of Shakespeare, and it went rather well. We came out with our purchases and went to find a restaurant. There were a few around the station, mostly Asian.
We set our sights on Curry Craze, an Indian eatery where the portions were so huge that we shared one dish between two. After this hearty meal, it was time to get out the perfect tourist's kit: guidebook in hand, cap against the sun and a bottle of water in the backpack. We took the train again to take on a few of Sydney's monuments. My first impression was how straight the roads were. Like other recent cities, Sydney had a very geometric layout with few curves. The streets and buildings were very clean, and even the old-looking monuments kept an impressive sparkle. We arrived at Hyde Park, the oldest public park in Australia, which naturally takes its name from the London original. It has a few monuments, including a big fountain, a very solemn memorial to the dead of the First World War and a statue of Captain Cook.
We drifted gently towards St Mary's Cathedral, the largest in the whole southern hemisphere, which really wouldn't have looked out of place in a European city. It radiated an impressive serenity, and we found ourselves sitting and contemplating it for long minutes. We continued our stroll towards the botanic garden and then, our final goal, the Opera House. The Botanic Garden is wedged between the office buildings of the Central Business District on one side and Sydney Harbour on the other. It was full of trees with Latin names and flowers each more beautiful than the last. We had fun clicking away with the camera far more than was reasonable at every new plant.
Going from path to path, we eventually found ourselves on the route along the harbour, facing the Sydney Opera House. It looked far more impressive than in any of the photos you could see online or on TV. The architecture was incredible, but it was above all the setting that made it so magnificent. The Harbour Bridge just behind added to the grace of the place, as did the sea and the brilliance of the blue sky. We sat on a concrete railing, and probably at that moment we realised that yes, we were in Australia. It was the start of a new life.