← PreviousWhat to see on a first day in Sydney?After a long night's sleep, we went to the bank and gave the name of the adviser we had an appointment with. From the look on the young receptionist's face, we quickly understood something was wrong. No one had noted our names, and just as we expected to have to come back, a young man came to fetch us and showed us into an office. All the staff of the bank, located almost in the heart of Sydney, were Chinese and spoke Chinese among themselves outside their exchanges with customers.
Xiao Linh addressed us in flawless English and answered his colleagues' questions in Mandarin. The experience was strange, but we gladly complied with his requests, and a few dozen minutes later we were back on the scorching pavement with a current account, a savings account and one last account for our superannuation.
Superannuation is the Australian equivalent of a pension. On every pay packet, your employer has to pay 9.5% into this separate account, which only becomes available the day you decide to stop working. It was a bit different in our case: as we didn't plan to stay in Australia until 65, we'd get back 35% of the sum at the end of our visa. We were a bit dismayed to learn we'd be taxed at 65% on what was supposed to fund our old age, but that was in keeping with the mindset of the Australian government, which was tightening immigration laws and trying hard to make the country less attractive.
But we were only at the start of the trip, and that kind of consideration wasn't on the agenda. In our first days we made a point of seeing everything, starting of course with the beaches. We went to Manly on the legendary ferry that leaves near the Opera House and gives a stunning view of the building as it passes. We also visited museums and tourist attractions like the famous Madame Tussauds, but one of the highlights of that fortnight was our visit to the Blue Mountains.
Our day had got off to a bad start, though. After an early wake-up and a frugal breakfast, we were on our way to Central station, where we were meeting a group of French people to go hiking in the mountains. We headed down light-footed to the bus stop, only to realise when we got there that the timetable we'd looked at was for weekdays, not Sundays. The next bus wasn't for 25 minutes, so we had to resort to Uber so as not to be late.
No sooner called than at our bus stop, and no sooner there than at our destination. We even had the luxury of being a little early, which meant we didn't have to rush through the huge station called Central. We got to the right platform and found a little band of French people: Baptiste, Dimitri, Choucri, Lucas, Guewenn, Romain and Sonia.
A pack of Gauls ready to take on a day of hiking under a blazing sun. Or so we thought — when we got off the train after two hours, it was very cold, and we regretted not bringing rain jackets. To warm up, we walked briskly to the best-known spot in the area, the Three Sisters, three rocks in a row which, according to Aboriginal legend, were three sisters turned to stone after falling in love with men from a different tribe.
The sun appeared on the horizon and we continued the hike, which wasn't the easiest, though it stayed pleasant. Our little team of French people turned out to be very funny, and we walked along in high spirits from lookout to lookout ("louquoute", as Baptiste said instead of lookout). The route, over five hours long, took us to Wentworth Falls, gigantic waterfalls cascading down steps carved in the rock, and it was a great joy to dive into the pools, as the heat was gruelling. Time to go home came, and we took the train back to Sydney before nightfall. It had been an exhausting day, but without knowing it, we'd made friendships that would last our whole stay.