I got into Sydney around 7:30 on Wednesday morning, having completely lost Tuesday en route. I slept ok on the plane (14 hours, I slept at least 8), but I was still fuzzy all day. The Google office is awesome – here’s the view from the cafe, complete with the famous harbor bridge.
Despite what the photo makes it seem like, it’s actually been gorgeous and sunny. Oh hey, but also, the crows here make a crazy noise. It sounds like babies crying, or cats fighting. Or cats fighting with crying babies. I am pretending they are kookaburras, even though Liz told me they are just crows. But kookaburras have their own super-Australian song! Did anyone else have to learn that in elementary school? Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree, mighty mighty king of the bush is he…
Anyway, the aforementioned Liz is a Wellesleyite, and last night I met her at Darling Harbor for drinks at a bar right on the water. Then we walked through the CBD (Central Business District) to the Rocks, which is one of the oldest areas of the city. It used to be one of the worst areas of the city – pestilence etc – but is now full of bars. Classic. There was a fantastic view of the opera house, and we took awkward self-portraits. And Liz took me to the oldest bar in Sydney! Two odd characteristics of Aussie pubs: they are sometimes called “hotels” even though they are not, and they are quite brightly lit. It’s like being in an Irish bar at closing time, which is disorienting.
I was proud that I was able to stay up until 10. Not bad for jetlag, right?