Last Days in Sydney

Cal and I are staying at a fab hotel in Chatswood. It has a bath! It has long carpeted corridors! It has a lift! It has a pool! It has a dark, dark bedroom with king-sized sleeping arrangements (including the enormous cot) and apart from the coffee table, which is just begging to be stood on top of in socks, it’s perfect and we never want to leave. Well, until tomorrow morning that is, when we fly back to Amsterdam.

This morning, to avoid the temptation of the coffee table, we got up and out of the room early and jumped on a train. Cal’s been on one before but in the past few weeks auto-mania has really hit. Cars, planes, choppers, trains and buses are exciting stuff. He was loving the train until the doors opened – exciting – but then not loving it when I wouldn’t let him get off the train through the doors – melt down.

Several stops later though, we did experience the fun of disembarkation and walked down the hill from Milson’s point to Luna Park and the harbour foreshore. We strolled through a cool vintage market set up beneath the bridge and then along the water. There were ferries and helicopters galore and a dog catching a ball, which is consistently the most hilarious thing Cal has ever seen. 

Oh Sydney, how majestic you are. The glisten and slop of the harbour. The crisp winter air hiding in the shadows of that iron bridge. The hot morning sun beating down on joggers and paper-readers below.

Waiting for the train at Chatswood

Captivated on the train

Early morning at Luna Park

Good morning Sydney