A Week in Sydney

Fighting the winter doldrums on Bondi Beach

For those who have not tried living in Mongolia, here is a little secret I have learned over the past year and a half: Mongolian winters are cold. They are cold and smoky and dark. After surviving one winter, I was not excited to see December and January once again approaching as I flipped the pages of the calendar. With our wealth of experience, we developed a plan for this winter that was foolproof; there was no way we would waste away another winter hiding indoors reading books and watching movies. No, we had other ideas: leave. Using our vast international network we discovered it is not winter everywhere in the world in January, and so we decided to take an R+R trip to Australia.

Our Australian vacation started off with a big surprise. We were upgraded to prestige class. While neither of us had any idea how this happened, we took it as a good omen for our coming adventures. We also stuffed our faces on a five course meal and gorged on wine like never before. How did we get so lucky? The chairs reclined all the way back to a bed! They also served smoked salmon and cheese. It was about this point we realized just how far from Mongolia we had come; and in just half a day.

As the plane landed in Sydney, we saw green grass and trees out the window. We took an actual train from the airport to downtown. Not having to squeeze through a tight crowd at the arrivals gate felt strange after several arrivals in Mongolia; but then I reminded myself that Australians are notorious travelers. A bit of a jaunt halfway round the world is all in a day's exercise. When I shared with a customs agent that I lived in Mongolia over my American passport, the man did not blink; instead he asked me pretty standard follow up questions, such as “What is your job in Mongolia?” He seemed to think it perfectly normal for someone to just live in Mongolia. That’s just a hop through Seoul, right? Right.

There are two things I miss more than all others in Mongolia (other than American ice cream, that is) and they are: trees and water. Sydney has an abundance of both, with great views to top it off. The beaches and bays along the city's coast are spectacular. As the speedboats and helicopters fly by below the Bay Bridge, you can picture yourself on the set of Mission Impossible 2.

I got a strong desire to rev up a motorcycle and start doing wheelies and other dangerous stunts until the inevitable happened: I recalled with sudden clarity that I am not Ethan Hunt. I do not need to save my girlfriend from a ruthless psychopath who wants to hold the world hostage with a massive pandemic; though I admit that would be an exciting way to spend the next two weeks. But, no. I am not Ethan hunt; I am on vacation with my beautiful wife (who is not anybody's hostage as far as I know) and I really just want to find some delicious seafood to eat while watching the waves break on the beach and laughing at the surfers who can't stay on their boards.

The following day we took the ferry to Manly Beach. The sun was strong and it was a good beach day. This was, unfortunately, very bad for our skin, which is more accustomed to the dark, smoke-filled skies of Ulaanbaatar. After a nice swim in some intense waves that were better suited to surfing and a little sunning on the beach, we were both a bit red. Well, okay, I was a bit red and Alissa had turned a shade of red usually associated with our favorite shellfish.

A new hat to hide from the sun

The lesson here is obvious; though we applied plenty of sunscreen, it was clearly not enough. Apparently, our skin has become so accustomed to the unnatural light we get from the chandelier in our Mongolian apartment that it can only now take approximately 15 minutes of direct sun exposure. Hopefully, by the end of two weeks Down Under we will be able to up this quota to over thirty minutes. The chances are doubtful, though. We have been living in Mongolia too long. A quick recovery is doubtful.

One thing that amazes us about Australia is how tropical it is. Large palm trees grow everywhere. The landscape is very reminiscent of the American south, I think; though I have not actually spent much time there to reminisce. The botanical gardens in downtown Sydney are a fantastic place to explore the country's rich flora; and to see how the natural plant life was mixed with many British imports. The Australians have been struggling to grow them in their country ever since settling here. I especially liked the large fig tree native of Papua New Guinea that, as a seedling, grows on other trees until it strangles them with it's enormous python-like roots that grow as vines toward the ground, then harden into stilts to support the larger branches as the tree grows. The tree in the garden was an ancient specimen dating to who-knows-when, with many of these stilt-like branches, giving it the appearance of a very large stooped old man.

The Blue Mountains sit northeast of Sydney; a 2 hour trip by train. The next day, we found ourselves sitting on this very train watching the Australian countryside slide by the window. Our destination was Katoomba, a small provincial town made famous in Australia for its proximity to three large towers of sandstone affectionately named the three sisters. According to legend, these three spires of rock were once fair maidens, turned to stone by a sorcerer to save them from the advances of a few uncouth Australian young men. Can you imagine: ill-mannered Australians! Unfortunately, the sorcerer died before restoring them to their original form; and so there they still stand today, monuments of a forgotten era of female chastity.

We were looking forward to a nice hike down the valley and some great pictures of sandstone cliffs; the iconic kind brought to life in Disney's Rescuers Down Under. We were not to be disappointed. The views were magnificent. However, the ranger we talked to for hiking advice did inform us that the trail we wanted to hike was closed because of fire danger in the summer months. He directed us to another route; one that featured a section named the Giant Staircase. This hike was beginning to sound less and less the relaxed stroll I pictured dreamily during the train ride.

Two thousand steps later or so, we finally reached the valley. We had descended to a vibrant tropical paradise. The air smelled fresh and you could feel the moisture on your skin; also, the climate down here was completely different than on top of the cliff. Up top, the wind was blasting and we were actually cold, well, cool really, for the first time in Australia. Down in the valley, it was quite warm, and hot if you actually stepped out of the shade. The tree cover was so dense in some places that the air grew dark; like we were walking through a tunnel.

The valley hike was easy compared to the steps we took down; which, admittedly is not saying much. We passed many waterfalls along the way and ascended by the Leura Cascades, where we finally saw more hikers. The scenery on the climb back up was surreal; sandstone cliffs rising from the valley, covered in rich vegetation with tree routes dangling over their edges. It was not the first time on this trip I have asked myself the philosophical question, "Where am I?"

We decided a nice place to swim the next day would be Shark Beach. Despite the name, which does actually come from the proliferation of sharks munching on recreational swimmers sometime in the past, this beach was described in our trusty Lonely Planet guide as an excellent swimming spot. As a bonus, they also now have netting surrounding the swimming area to keep away any hungry sharks.

We tried out our new snorkels and did manage to spot a few fish. The water was pleasant. We were amazed how easily we could float. I assume the salt content is very high in the South Pacific; in fact, after spitting out several mouthfuls I can verify it. We finished off the evening with some cannoli and cappuccino from a little food kiosk on the beach.

We tried our fourth beach in Sydney on Friday: Clovelly Beach. According to our guide book, this beach was supposed to be the best for snorkeling in the city. The beach was very narrow, but deep with sand stretching a ways back from the water. Concrete walls were built on both sides on top of sandstone rocks, creating a wave pool in the ocean. Though the waves broke outside the narrow cove, the surge would crash over the walls, getting everyone standing nearby soaking wet.

The snorkeling was fantastic. We saw lots of fish a foot long in length, just swimming around the cove. There were also many shells, rocks, and seaweed along the bottom. We practiced diving to the bottom with our snorkels and often came up spitting out salt water. The salinity of the water was, not surprisingly, very high. We were, after all, still swimming in the same ocean. It was sad to leave Clovelly Beach. Though we still have another week in Australia, we will leave Sydney early in the morning. Tasmania awaits us; or as the Aussies say: "Tassie," and with it the crystal clear waters of Wineglass Bay.