More Sydney, Perhaps More Coherently

Until recently, I had this insane, stoic idea that jetlag was not real. I still think that it's overrated when one is going through only a couple time zones, like from the east to the west coast of the United States. But, my friends, when one goes halfway around the world, it is like having a debilitating, if very temporary, disease. Justin and I have been awake today since 4 a.m., and yesterday were so dead tired at 9 p.m. that we decided that we couldn't have dinner lest we fall face first into our soup. 

So mornings and evenings aren't our best times. But that leaves most of the day, when we are awake, chipper, and properly caffeinated. Yesterday, we used that good time to traverse all 10 km (6.2 miles) of the Manly Scenic Walkway. Special thanks to Margot for recommending it: it was a really lovely tramp, and a truly gorgeous ferry ride over.

A view from the ferry on our way over to Manly.

Manly is a local community north of Sydney that may properly be called a suburb or a beach town, but is really more of a fiercely independent locality that defies both labels. According to our Lonely Planet guide (and the Internet), it was so named by Captain Arthur Phillip after he was impressed by the manly physique of the Aborigines living there, a factoid that amused us greatly -- we assumed it was named for Sir Herbert Manly or some other obscure Briton, like most of the names in Oz. The Manly Scenic Walk meanders from Manly Beach on the Pacific Ocean through the manicured community and up into a portion of Sydney National Park, which afforded us a good few kilometers of bush walking and incredible views of North and South Head, the gates of Sydney Harbor, with the Pacific beyond.

I like the ocean.

This is where I am eaten by a flying shark or a saltwater crocodile or something.

I don't have many photos of the bush, but I will just point out that the Australians are even burly about their trail repair: the National Parks folks were repaving the path with stones that had apparently been hauled up in gigantic plastic bags, like the ones that you get when you shop at Ikea. We had a nice walk all in all, and learned a bit about native flora and fauna. One bird's chirp sounds exactly like a firing laser. This place is cool.

We spent the evening watching Savion Glover, a world-class tap dancer who was, amusingly, a member of the cast of Sesame Street for five years, perform at the Sydney Opera House. It was a treat to be able to see a show there, and I think that Glover's feet might not actually be attached to his body. Glover and two other excellent dancers tapped on three individually miked hardwood floors, often to rhythms that were borrowed from earlier artists like Charlie Parker (Justin picked up on it!) and often in a kind of breakdance-like competition format. Truly great.

Today we head out for our first big Australian adventure. We are taking the train from Sydney to Perth, a journey that includes a span of rail that is the straightest stretch of track in the world across the Nullarbor Plain (so named because it is empty (null) of trees (arbors)). It will take us three days in our little sleeping car through the harsh outback to reach Perth, and we probably won't be able to access the Internet during that time -- but we'll have plenty of stories on the back end.

ciao everyone!

Meredith

PS: for whatever reason, Blogger's photo-upload interface is great when we log in as me, and terrible when we log in as Justin, which is why I've been authoring most posts. But I promise he's here. I haven't eaten him yet.

PPS. Did I mention that Australia has weird animals?

This one practically crawled into Justin's lap!