Sweet Sydney

While I was brought up in the Western Suburbs, I grew up in Sydney. On the North Shore mostly, but I spent an awful lot of my time in the city. I feel like I can say it’s my home town. So today was a lovely trip down memory lane for me as I wandered the old streets of my youth…and older.

The plan was to meet Farelli for a picnic. Actually the plan was for both Mirinda and I to meet Farelli for a picnic but Mirinda’s cold was still hanging around so she sent me as the single representative of our little family (the poodles being snowed in).

I was dropped at the bus stop at Round Corner Dural (which is somewhat odd in itself as a square corner is quite a rare thing…so rare that most corners are just called corners, the round bit being assumed) and took the excellent bus into Wynyard. And how marvellous; Wynyard hasn’t changed.

I have sneaked the above photo in to combat the mysterious rumours that Starbucks has been turfed out of Sydney to be replaced by an inferior mob. This is on York Street…and I found a second, bigger one at the Quay!

I took the train to Milson’s Point and, I’m pretty certain, I was in a carriage I’d taken last time I was in Sydney catching trains. Sadly, I don’t think they’d cleaned it.

Actually, it was fine. That comment was for comic effect.

I spotted Farelli walking up to the station, buggy before her and greeted her warmly. She stunned me by saying I looked exactly the same. I said she did too. I thought this was very odd. Surely it hasn’t been that long.

Anyway, I met Tiger. And what a jolly baby he is! He has the cheekiest grin and a pretty good grip on him. I’ve rarely seen such a well behaved baby. The only time we had tears was when Farelli poked him in the mouth with his spoon. And that was understandable.

I have been sworn to secrecy over the car key incident so there is absolutely no point in trying to get it out of me. I am not telling. At all. Nothing. Nada.

Seriously. I’m not kidding. I’m saying nothing. Though, for clarity, I do have to say the first half of our picnic was IN the car.

Eventually we made our way down to a lovely little spot of grass that overlooks the harbour. This was where Farelli got married. It really is a stunning spot. I sent Dawn an image just to make her jealous. She called me a tourist! Tourist indeed. I was mortally wounded.

We had a lovely picnic with Tiger taking full advantage of the three square acre picnic blanket Farelli had brought with her. It was a lovely catch up and gossip. At the risk of abuse I am including this photo of Farelli that she will no doubt hate. The trouble is, I took heaps of Tiger and only this one of her! Still…I didn’t say ANYTHING about the car key incident…

So, after Farelli had used the facilities at Milson’s Point station, I bade her a fond farewell and set off on my journey into yesteryear.

Back in the dark ages, when I lived in North Sydney, I would regularly walk into work across the bridge (I rode a bicycle for a bit as well but that’s on the other side) so I decided, seeing as it was a wonderfully blue day, to walk back across rather than catch the train.

It was wonderful. The harbour stretching out so beautifully. The skyline glinting in the sun. I remembered forcing Aunty Sally to walk across many, many years ago. Although she was exhausted by the time we reached the other side, she loved it.

I think I’ll finish this tomorrow as it may go on for some time. Let me leave you with one of my favourite views of Sydney.

For another view of Sydney, here’s my blip for today.

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It’s tricky giving updates about dad as I’m not in Queensland at the moment, however, I spoke to mum tonight and he sounds heaps better and may be coming home on Friday! Yay, dad!