← PreviousFirst steps in SydneyAfter a good hour walking around the harbour, an inevitable wave of tiredness hit us. It was time to go home and rest after such a long journey. When it came to washing, we noticed that despite the sunscreen, the sun hadn't spared us. We were sunburnt wherever we hadn't put protection, which in my case meant bright red ears. So it wasn't a legend: the Oceanian sun was fearsome and you had to be very careful.
Around 7 pm our host Aydan came home. We came out of our room to introduce ourselves and test our English in real conditions. No more pretending with French friends or rehearsing sentences in your head. We were diving in at the deep end with no way out. He was Irish and fortunately didn't have too strong an accent, so we didn't have too much trouble. He immediately put us at ease and a long conversation followed.
We learned that he was an engineer working on 3D printing of tissue intended to replace cancerous cells and that climbing was his passion. He'd just come back from a day's climbing in the Blue Mountains, which we planned to visit in the coming weeks. So we took the chance to bombard him with questions, which he gladly answered. But time was ticking on and the clock already said 9 pm. We had nothing to eat and had to go out for food, and to our amazement all the restaurants were already closing.
The shopfronts did say 10 pm, but the lack of customers pushed them to close early. I politely asked a Thai lady if we could eat somewhere, and she welcomed us gladly. We ate quickly, and once again the plate was so generous that we had to share one between two and take the rest home. We were dropping with sleep, and as soon as we lay down we were in the arms of Morpheus.
We hadn't set an alarm, but our eyes opened around six in the morning. We'd had enough sleep, and being so close to the airport ruled out any desire for a lie-in anyway. We still lingered in bed quietly. We'd given ourselves fifteen days of holiday. After that we'd have to get serious about finding a job and somewhere permanent to live. So we intended to make the most of our rest to recover and feast our eyes.
We also had a few formalities to sort out. The first and simplest was buying Australian SIM cards to have internet on our phones. You could get them at the local Woolworths supermarket and activate them instantly. No sooner said than done: the magic of technology delivered data and the Vodafone network to our phones.
Our parents were happy to know we were so close while being so far away. Our second priority was a bank account. Australia was used to young people like us with this particular visa: the Working Holiday Visa. Holders of this golden ticket are called Working Holiday Makers, and there were bank accounts designed for them. We'd planned to visit Chinatown late in the morning and had spotted a Westpac branch nearby. We'd read glowing reviews of this bank and been advised to put our money there.
We took the train again on the T8 line to the Haymarket area and its Chinese streets. Sydney's Chinatown was tiny, barely bigger than a single street, but very picturesque. We ate in one of the neighbouring streets at a tiny Taiwanese place that turned out to be excellent. The bank was a stone's throw away and we arrived around 12:30. As soon as we walked in, an employee came over, seeing us a bit lost. She explained we'd probably have to come back on Monday, as all the advisers were busy until closing at 1:30. We weren't really in a hurry, so we gladly agreed.
We took the train again to cross the harbour and visit Sydney's iconic Luna Park, with its huge mouth serving as the entrance. The place was very colourful and full of life. Children played on the rides, mouths full of candyfloss, while a group of people in costume posed for photos with anyone who wanted. We felt good; the atmosphere was peaceful and relaxed. It came as quite a shock, in fact, because the whole city of Sydney breathed a serene atmosphere. We continued our visit and came across a very funny diving show by professionals who clearly took great delight in making the children gathered around the pool laugh.
We carried on walking along the harbour. We'd reached a spot where the houses became really grand, with boats moored outside. We settled on the grass to enjoy the sun and the view of the Harbour Bridge. A bunch of kids were fishing and fooling around, taking turns pushing each other into the water. There was a whiff of childhood about it. We headed back and crossed the bridge on foot. It's 1.2 kilometres long and the view is striking. We were already realising that the view over the harbour was never the same. Depending on the time of day and the angle, you saw different perspectives. Needless to say, the harbour was always just as beautiful, and we wondered whether people ever tired of it. Only time would tell.