Wednesday, 14 July 2010

Wowed and wistful in Western Canada

Vancouver is a city that has often been named by studies as having the world's best quality of life. And it is really not hard to see why. It's beautiful and I loved it. It's not a large city - population less than 600,000 - but it is multicultural, imposing enough and lively enough, while remaining compact, thoroughly in touch with its natural surroundings and, well, liveable.

I was staying with my friend Troy and was able to walk comfortably from his lovely flat to downtown. (For schlager/Eurovision friends who know Troy - he's a fantastic host with a great place, and he loves hosting, so go stay with him!) When you reach downtown, you find an assortment of impressive, modern, glass-and-steel skyscrapers - however what I loved about these is that there's substantial space between each one occupied by much lower-rise buildings. That means that you can actually appreciate each tall structure individually, and you never feel overwhelmed by them. Troy tells me that urban planning has been strong here. And I absolutely loved as an example of the human scale of the city that at one busy intersection in downtown, there is a substantial plot of, er, community allotments. You won't see that in Los Angeles...

You're never far away from the water that lines three sides of the city. On the eastern side you have the rather stunning Canada Place exhibition centre, built with white sails - but more importantly for the casual tourist, also a pier offering a truly amazing panoramic view of the mountains across the other side of the harbour. On the western side you have the lively beach area of English Bay. And to the north, you have the huge and rightly famous Stanley Park. It's huge and my exploration didn't extend beyond the 9km seawall path which encircles the park. This is incredibly beautiful and it's clearly not a park you'd get bored of quickly, or possibly even within a lifetime. Although there's a perfectly good bus network in the city, you can walk between all of these points fairly easily.

From the Canada place pier
 One of the mountains across the harbour is Grouse Mountain - it's a favourite pursuit for both tourists and locals to go and climb up it, which Troy took me to do. He does it fairly frequently instead of going to the gym, because the "Grouse Grind" climb is a substantial undertaking, climbing 853m over a total distance of 2.9km. But not only was it a good workout (alas I couldn't keep up with Troy and his local friend in the end, but I was satisfied with my time of 1 hour 5 minutes, as 1 hour 30 minutes is supposedly around average!), but the views from the top, of the water and the tree-lined peak beyond, are to die for. Grouse Mountain is also a ski area in the winter, and at the very top of the ultimate peak was a small amount of snow, despite it being late June. There was also a birds-of-prey display taking place at the top, so we got to see a hawk, peregrine falcon and a bald eagle. While birds are not entirely my thing, it was impossible not to be impressed by the size and majesty of the bald eagle. Oh, and thankfully there's a cable car down from the top of the mountain - in itself a memorable experience for the views it offers, as well as making you ask, "Wow, did we really climb that far?" I was seriously jealous of Vancouverites for having this on their doorstep - how on earth would a Londoner make a quick pop out of town to climb their local mountain?!

A view well worth the climb!! At the top of Grouse Mountain

There's a fairly substantial gay scene in the city, concentrated on a single street, Davie Street, where rainbow flags fly proudly. Combine that with a culinary scene that is apparently famous for its multicultural diversity, and you get an impression of a city which is a pretty major hub and cultural centre, not a backwater. Admittedly, it's not utopia, as there is a substantial homeless population and associated social problems, although for historical reasons this is heavily concentrated in one ghettoised area of the city where tourists are unlikely to wander. And, disturbingly, I also came across written and anecdotal evidence of a queer-bashing problem.

I ended up doing less sightseeing in Vancouver than envisaged. Instead I had an intense holiday romance for a few days with a gorgeous Canadian guy called Jon, on a short holiday himself from the neighbouring province of Alberta. We met at Celebrities Nightclub. Avid readers (?!) of this blog may recall that this hasn't been my first holiday romance (as in, guy I've spent significantly more time than just one night with), but this one was different and very, very rare and special. Rare and special enough that I extended my stay in Vancouver, seriously didn't want to leave, and still often now feel more than a touch sad that I had to say goodbye to Jon so soon. We've been keeping in contact since, and I would like very much to see him again sometime; with the vast distance involved I don't yet know whether this will prove viable on both sides. But even if there weren't potentially a boy involved, Vancouver would be a very attractive place to live, at least for a while. Watch this space.

A couple of social observations I've been making are:
  • Canadians do not seem too fond of Americans. As a friend of Troy's put it ever so slightly bluntly to me: "Canada has all the good points of the US, but none of its bad points." Ouch!
  • Regular cannabis use seems much more mainstream and 'normal' in both the US and Canada amongst people in my age range - even thoughtful, professional and health-conscious people. I've encountered genuine surprise from North Americans that I don't use it - you might call me the reserved type, but I'm pretty sure that regular use amongst British (...and European?) people in my demographic would be rare.
From Vancouver it was across a provincial and time-zone boundary on to Banff in the Rocky Mountains. I did this by an overnight Greyhound Canada bus - not the most physically comfortable experience of my life. It had also been made a touch more, er, interesting after both Jon and Troy had felt the need to tell me that a couple of years ago someone was beheaded by a fellow passenger during a Greyhound Canada journey...

The whole Banff area is a national park and a major tourist destination. Lonely Planet says: "If you were to sit down and try to design an area of the world that would be the most spectacular, the most awe inspiring and the most scenically overwhelming, odds are it might look a lot like Banff... National Park." And it's pretty hard to disagree with that. I've definitely not seen an area of countryside so beautiful in my lifetime.

Banff Town was built for tourism but is included in the National Park area, meaning that there remain strong restrictions on its development and growth; it therefore seems to be a manageable size. The town's setting could hardly be more stunning; looking in either direction down the main road, the man-made structures are dwarfed by a mountain directly behind. The town's buildings complete the picture postcard feel, although unfortunately the businesses within these buildings are often less impressive - tacky gift shops and chain eateries abound, something that a flick through the local newspaper showed the town council wants to do something to control. But the best thing to do is go to the tourist information office and get their excellent information on hiking trails which take you out of the town - there are lots of them, ranging from straightforward to hardcore. (You can also find canoeing, kayaking, whitewater rafting and horseback riding if they're your things.)

How's that for a backdrop on the High Street?

The Rocky Mountains are, well, rocky, with a greyish brown being the dominant colour of the rock in the panoramic views accessible everywhere. However, there is quite a spectrum of colours to observe, with significant deposits of snow remaining (in late June), some areas covered with trees, and some areas dark brown from a coating of water. While I was there the weather was typically sunny but with some fluffy cloud, which added delightfully to the colour contrast as some areas would be in sunlight and others in shadow. Below the mountains you can see beautiful carpets of green trees, and there is also the Bow River which is an unusual, and stunning, light turquoise colour. Although there are plenty of tourists in the area, you don't seem to need to get very far out of the town to leave almost all of them behind - so I genuinely found blissful solitude during my hiking. I only spent two nights in the area, but for a standalone holiday, if it's peace and quiet you're after amongst the incredible scenery, you could easily make it two weeks or more.

Both in Banff itself and, particularly, during the bus rides in and out, you are perhaps most struck by just how many mountains there actually are - a quick Google indicates that there are 1,356 mountains comprising the Rockies. From a single spot outside Banff called the Bow Valley View (where I was motivated to take notes!) at a height of around 1400m you can see Mt Rundle (height 2937m), Sulphur Mountain (2427m) and Sanson Peak (2231m), Tunnel Mountain (1690m), Mt Brett (2946m), Mt Norquay (2483m) and Mt Stoney Squaw (1852m). Nearby can also be observed a formation of limestone hoodoos (no, I didn't know what they are either - best to read the Wikipedia article than have me attempt to explain).

 The picture says it all, no caption needed really...

To summarise, as if I need to, this is an incredible part of the world, and one where I very much hope I'll be able to spend more time. I could have spent a lot longer, so just as well my next destination was somewhere as alluring as New York City...

Monday, 12 July 2010

Photos - losses and links

A bit of a disaster happened to me in transit between San Francisco and Vancouver. I lost my camera - complete with memory cards. The camera was ageing, extremely battered and not hugely expensive to start with, so the financial loss isn't so much of an issue. But, while I have been uploading my good photos to the Internet along the way, I hadn't uploaded photos for about two and a half weeks before the loss. So all my photos from New Zealand and California are lost.

I'd got to San Francisco Airport late, was almost denied boarding, and I was very short on sleep, so in a less-than-together state my first instinct was that I'd allowed the camera to fall out of my shoulder bag, most likely on the plane. However, calls to Air Canada and to the airport failed to turn anything up. On further reflection talking to my friend Troy in Vancouver, I reckon that even in a diminished state it wouldn't really be like me for this to have happened. So I concluded that it's most likely to have been lifted out of my shoulder bag somewhere while it was on my shoulder. I said to Troy that I wouldn't think of myself as inattentive enough to let this happen - but he pointed out to me that airport thieves do exactly this kind of thing all the time, targeting flustered looking people etc. They're good at their job and they just don't get caught in the act. 

I'm trying to be phlegmatic about the loss, because you have to expect things to go wrong while travelling, and it's only 2½ weeks of photos lost out of a 21-week trip. But you can take one thing for sure - I'm not going to leave my camera in the top of my shoulder bag ever again!!

Attention non-Facebookers only. On the subject of photos, I'm aware that there is a small number of readers on Blogger who won't have had access to any of my photos on Facebook. While in the early days of this blog my intention was to embed some of the best photos in the blog itself, I soon abandoned this idea on grounds of available time (although I might go back and do it at the end of the trip, but then I might not). So instead, a little belatedly, here are links to the Facebook photo albums thus far which you don't need to be a member of Facebook to be able to access:

Melbourne - http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2380704&id=61207375&l=67bf6302ab 

I'll provide the rest of the links as I go through. 

Tuesday, 6 July 2010

San Francisco

What would you guess the population of San Francisco is? 5 million? 3 million? Well, it's actually just over 800,000. Yes, I was surprised too. This is a pretty small city that punches way above its weight in the world.

Although it's in the same state as Los Angeles, it really feels very different indeed. There is a friendly, personal, relaxed but lively vibe here, and it's the USA's most liberal city - George Moscone, the city mayor assassinated at the same time as Harvey Milk (see below), claimed that it was the fact that all different sorts of people have learnt to get along together in San Francisco that makes it the greatest city in the world. Well, I'm not totally sure about that (and I'm not sure how widely Mayor Moscone had travelled in Western Europe!), but San Fran is definitely a great city to hang out in for a while.

The core of the city is pretty much walkable (with a bit of stamina), and there is also reasonably good public transport. In addition to the MUNI system of rail-cum-tram lines and trolleybuses, there is also the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) metro system which is one of the more interesting transport experiences I've had - it's very obviously of late 1960s/early 1970s design and build, and with streamlined stainless steel trains and platform tiling of that era, must have looked very futuristic when it was first opened. Now it, er, doesn't, but with plushly upholstered and carpeted trains, it's remarkably comfortable, and strangely fun to walk into what the future used to look like!

To my surprise, I've found myself a big fan of the North American system of numbering streets rather than naming them. Essentially, provided you can remember which way the numbering goes (e.g. in the Civic Center and Mission areas, 'Streets' run in descending order from 1st to 32nd, north to south like rungs of a ladder), it makes it impossible to lose your bearings. With my woeful sense of direction I don't usually like to venture anywhere unfamiliar without carrying a good map - but by just remembering the order of the numbering, I very happily went out to the Castro on my first evening from my hostel from the Mission without carting my guidebook with me and with no prospect of getting lost.

One thing I hadn't appreciated before coming to San Francisco is that it has a peculiar climate which is not what you associate with California at all. I'd been distinctly puzzled by a brief conversation I'd had with San Franciscans in New Zealand when they said something along the lines of "Oh it's great you're going to San Francisco... but the weather's quite cold in summer". And alas they were right, sort of. Bounded in on three sides by the Pacific Ocean, the city has an extremely temperate climate and also plenty of fog on many mornings which is slow to clear. This means that real cold in winter is virtually unknown, but real warmth in summer is by no means commonplace, and September and October are actually the warmest months. On average it's the coldest major city in the whole USA (Wikipedia tells me) during June, July and August. I just about managed to sunbathe briefly one afternoon, but my jacket was a welcome companion throughout the day for most of my stay - and walking along the waterfront towards the Golden Gate Bridge, the cool winds were positively bracing...

...But don't let that put you off going to the Golden Gate Bridge, San Fran's icon. It is some way out of town with limited (but do-able once you've worked out how) public transport. However I'd suggest leaving it till the way back and walking there along the waterfront (but do take some layers of clothing!!), because by doing so you discover the bridge's wonder slowly - as from afar it doesn't look all that impressive, but it really is. Up close you feel completely dwarfed by the immensity of the engineering achievement and in awe of the superb aesthetics - finished off by the orangey-red colour which may seem like a strange one, but somehow works really well. As an added bonus you get to see Fort Point, the impressive American Civil War-era fort which the Golden Gate Bridge was redesigned to span over rather then demolish.
 
The Golden Gate Bridge [picture pulled off Internet]


The city's other famous stellar attraction is Alcatraz, the former prison island for the highest-security inmates in the US penal system, decommissioned in the 1960s. I hadn't realised it's only 1½ miles away from the mainland by ferry crossing; this apparently made the (impressive) view across unbearable for some prisoners, because they couldn't bear seeing how close but unattainable free life was. But the distance was generally sufficient, due to treacherous currents and mostly icy waters; some would-be escapees who made it as far as the water drowned, while others actually gave up and swam back! The island is now a national park because it features substantial habitation by rare wildlife; however the main attraction is the truly excellent guided tour of the former, perfectly preserved jailhouse. Ít's all done by an electronic audioguide which runs constantly, telling you exactly where to walk to see the next point of interest, with narration by former inmates and former wardens - I haven't come across quite such a system before (i.e with a constant commentary and walking directions) but it was superb, much better than tagging along in a large annoying group trying to listen to one human guide. The actual cells, which were tiny with no privacy, are still in tact - including the punishment block which meant soiltary confinement in complete darkness - and you get to see mock-ups of how cells used to look with and without prisoners' personal effects. You also get to see an escape tunnel dug by prisoners with a stolen improvised electric drill (only used during music hour) and a spoon - they escaped the island, but drowned while swimming across; and the exact key sites during the "Battle of Alcatraz" armed escape attempt, in which two guards and three inmates died.
 A cell at Alcatraz [picture pulled off Internet]

Unlike for the most part Los Angeles, San Fran seems to do public space well in the form of both parks and civic squares. Golden Gate Park (slightly away from the city centre but handily a MUNI line runs its entire three-mile (!) length) is the city's flagship park - it's huge and heavily covered in trees, to the extent that you could probably lose yourself in it for an entire day, forgetting you're in a city. It attracts lots of outdoorsy types for all sorts of activities, but it's also justifiably popular for picnics and general lounging around. In the city centre, between the Mission and the Castro, Dolores Park is also a very pleasant and popular spot for hip 20- and 30-somethings to lounge around or maybe have a kickaround - if you're fortunate enough to actually get June weather warm enough - and it seemed a great spot for people-watching. By way of squares, Union Square is a pleasant place to take a rest (or use as a meeting place), lined with department stores, even if it seemed a little soulless compared to some of the great European plazas. Probably more impressive is the Civic Center area which notably includes the United Nations Plaza, with monuments and engravings marking the formation of that organisation in San Francisco in San Francisco in 1945

The centrepiece of said Civic Center area however is City Hall. I wasn't particularly expecting to be blown away by the building's architecture, but I truly was - it's absolutely vast, with (I read later) the fifth largest dome structure in the world, and incredibly grand in a Beaux Arts style. It's equally impressive and imposing inside, with lavish marble walls featuring ornate classical carvings and a grand main staircase, and you're free to walk in and wander around. It's a genuine must-see on those grounds alone. However of course the original reason for my interest is that it was the site of the assassination of Harvey Milk, the world's first openly gay politician to win elected office (as a City Supervisor, the equivalent of a city councillor in British terminology) and gay rights hero, as well as Mayor George Moscone, by a mentally ill fellow Supervisor. There are statues commemorating both inside. (If you don't know the story of Harvey Milk, go and see at once the amazing and essential film "Milk" with a fantastic lead performance by Sean Penn.)
 San Francisco City Hall [picture pulled off Internet]

The Castro is of course San Fran's main gay district, doubtless made much better known (including to me) by thel film "Milk". It's a very concentrated one at that - the 'scene' there is concentrated into about three blocks, albeit that there are houses all around with predictably gay-heavy populations - and it has more of a sense of physical gay community than anywhere else I've wandered. There are public noticeboards full of gay-related posters, and the site of Harvey Milk's camera shop which became the unofficial gay community centre is currently empty but commemorated with a full windowfront display. The various shops in the area included the inevitable sex shops but also a huge and rather wonderful gay bookshop, and what appeared to be a shop for gay dog-owners. Honestly. Lately on my travels I've managed to blag myself a few free gym trials by lying through my teeth about my residence status ("Yes I'm a resident here... I'm a university student, studying International Relations") - in SF I got myself into a gym on Castro Street, which belongs to one of the major chain providers but is blatantly a gay gym. I've never seen so many tight-fitting designer gym outfits. :-) It's also the only private gym where I've seen a noticeboard with posters exhorting you to get a syphilis test... and with one open communal shower area, complete with signs telling you not to have sex in there. I won't miss that last bit.

This sense of gay community was certainly evident at the San Francisco International LGBT Film Festival, which was taking place while I was in town. I saw a compelling Norwegian film, a gay teenage coming-of-age story, called The Man Who Loved Yngve - this has won multiple awards elsewhere and I'd definitely highly recommend it. I also saw a documentary called Beyond Gay: The Politics of Pride which examined the partying and the issues in staging Pride festivals in both liberal and less liberal parts of the world. It showed footage from Rio de Janeiro where there are a staggering 2 million participants; but also from Warsaw where anti-gay protestors virtually outnumbered marchers; and from Moscow of an organiser getting his head kicked in by a baying mob, in this city where all permits for Pride marches are rejected by the Mayor and attempts violently suppressed by the police - they eventually managed to march about 20 metres [sic] with a rainbow flag in an anonymous part of town, which they considered a relative triumph. Plus we met the Jamaican gay activist who's seen 13 of his friends homophobically murdered. It was a sobering but deeply inspiring film.

San Francisco is also a city that defines itself heavily through its art scene, with several major museums  and plenty of small galleries, and I'd recommend MOMA, the one I had time to get to, as somewhere to spend a morning.

SF also seems to be one of those places where you can expect to see strange, random things. On Powell Street, there was an aged busker playing several verses of, er, "God Save the Queen", on a peculiar hand-made stringed instrument wired up to an electronic speaker. In the plaza outside City Hall on a weekday morning, I observed a large open-air step aerobics session. And one early evening, a rather inebriated but perfectly friendly elderly local guy struck up a conversation with me about the tolerance of San Francisco and life's ups and downs - I could forgive his untimely drunkenness as he was heading home from a wake for his best friend's son who'd been murdered. OK, so that last detail darkens the happy anecdote somewhat...

One slight surprise is that San Francisco does not seem to be much of a 24-hour city. My observations and those of fellow travellers from my hostel were that generally both bars and clubs (even on Castro Street) seem to be closed by 1.45am, if not earlier. Mind, if you want to be able to go out at all, for goodness' sake make sure you take photo ID (which for me has to be my passport as I have no driving licence) - one night I forgot, and got both myself and my two friends thrown out of the bar we'd gone to as soon as I tried to order. The fact that I'm really obviously well over 21 (the minimum drinking age), and that I only ordered a soft drink, both cut no ice. Well, they always have been much more uptight about drinking on this side of the Atlantic.

I really liked San Francisco for sure - I'm not certain that I really loved it though, even though this feels like a heretical thing to say. As I've discussed with other cities, it's often hard to pin clear reasons to your emotional reaction to a place, although I suspect that there was something about the Americanness of the city which just doesn't quite do it for me like the top European/Asian/Australian cities I've been to, even though it's fascinating to have seen it. I'll let you know though what I think of the US cities I'll be visiting on the eastern side - watch this space...

Lastly, some more general observations of California:
  • Generally speaking the customer service is superb, in shops and even on buses. I suppose it makes sense that you get this in the home of capitalism...
  • LA and San Fran are both seriously ethinically diverse places. Both .cities have non-Hispanic whites as a minority population, and in LA whites full stop are a minority This is probably something that negative stereotypes of the US regarding its lack of worldliness overlook - like many national stereotypes globally, probably based much more on perceptions of small-town than big-city life.
  • The "soccer" World Cup is significantly more visible than you might expect. Some of this is clearly due to the loyalties of immigrants (or their descendants) from places better known for their interest in football - when Mexico defeated France, Mission Street outside my hostel came alive with multiple cars hooting continuously with their cheering occupants waving flags - but not all of it. At breakfast one morning three Americans were gripped by the USA v Slovenia match, even if one of them did think the opposing country was named "Slavia"...
  • Something that I found mildly infuriating is that prices are almost always quoted exclusive of the sales tax that is normally payable. Apart from deceiving you into thinking things are cheaper than they are, most prices are round figures exclusive of sales tax - this means that the inclusive price is rarely a round figure. You therefore quickly accumulate large quantities of small change - which you can't even prepare to get rid of with your next purchase because you don't know exactly what you'll need to pay until you get to the checkout...
  • Oh, and banknotes are all the same size and colour. This is less difficult to deal with than confusing coins - except for visually impaired people, who I believe I heard a little while back have won some sort of court order against the Federal Government that this infringes their rights. Good for them.
  • It is a challenge to be a backpacker here and not put on weight - portions of food-to-go and snacks tend to be large to say the least. And California has the healthiest population in the US...

Wednesday, 30 June 2010

Chris goes to La-La Land

I was kind of half-expecting to hate Los Angeles - I put it on my itinerary because I figured it was the kind of place everyone should see... but maybe only once. It has to be said, my first impressions after arriving at the airport were pretty dire. The bus ride towards downtown takes you through deeply ugly low-rise suburbs, scarred by the many intersecting wide freeways and flyovers that you associate with LA. However, it soon got better.

Los Angeles covers a huge area. At least for visitors, it is not obvious where the city actually ends, with some districts commonly thought of as part of the city, such as Santa Monica and West Hollywood, actually being independent cities within the wider county of Los Angeles. Everyone knows that LA is the city where the car is king - in fairness, the sheer size of the city, even of individual districts (this is not the land of high-rise living), pretty much dictates this. Although actually, there is more public transport than you might expect. There is a Metro system with five lines, which is remarkably cheap and even fairly pleasant (with touches such as art installations in stations). However, this number of lines only scratches the surface of the city's mammoth size. It's complemented by a substantial network of bus routes. However, the chances of finding a direct route for wherever it is you want to go are pretty slim, meaning you'll need to change - and many bus routes only run about twice an hour. And due again to the vast overall size of the city, you'll also possibly still have a long walk at one end or both ends of your journey. And to boot, information on routes and times is often either incredibly difficult to follow or just entirely absent (I am appreciating more and more on this trip just how thankful Londoners should be for the mostly superb standard of information provided by Transport for London). Lonely Planet, which is normally pretty well attuned to the diverse circumstances of its readers, pretty much takes it for granted that all visitors will hire a car. As I don't drive however, I spent a lot of time just trying to get around LA, albeit in all cases I eventually managed it.

With warnings ringing in my ears from a backpacker in Auckland about the vital importance of being well organised before you arrive (for the reasons outlined above), I'd booked a hostel in Hollywood, mainly because it had a remarkable location right at the heart of Hollywood Boulevard and literally opposite a Metro station. I'm not the type ever likely to get hugely excited about Hollywood because I'm just not much of a fan of its films (generally preferring indie and European cinema) or of celebrity culture - but it was worthwhile to spend maybe an hour having a wander around anyway. I saw the legendary Hollywood sign (from fairly afar), and the famous Walk of Fame on and around Hollywood Boulevard, where hundreds of stars from the entertainment world have their names in gold on individual paving stones. Additionally, outside the equally famous (and sort of impressive if possibly rather grotesque at the same time) Grauman's Chinese Theatre, are imprints in concrete of the hands and/or feet of megastars such as George Clooney and Meryl Streep. Of course, many A-listers live around Hollywood, and, believe it or not, one of the major things to do is to take a bus tour around their homes. Should you prefer to do it yourself, you can buy a "movie star map" showing you where to go. Strangely enough, I managed to resist this particular 'pleasure'...

I soon left Hollywood behind to explore the Downtown area. I was there over the weekend when it was largely pretty deserted - while it acts as the city's business district and civic centre, it isn't the area where most people spend their leisure time. Some areas of Downtown are clearly a bit dodgy, and the random strolling I initially did before I'd managed to acquire a guidebook isn't entirely something I'd recommend - however once I knew clearly where I was going, a targeted walkaround was very enjoyable.

Downtown is dominated by the massive, towering and gracefully imposing 1928 City Hall, some 138m high in off-white concrete. However there is also highly impressive and contrasting modern architecture to admire, particularly the Walt Disney Concert Hall which is externally comprised of various sharply angular but curved elements which loosely resemble sails on a boat. It's pretty stunning and I can't think that I've seen anything else much like it Although it hasn't got any of the jaw-dropping setting, with its 1980s/1990s design you could possibly suggest it's a bit of a modern-day Sydney Opera House.
 
Walt Disney Concert Hall [picture pulled off Internet]
 One area that definitely is populated at the weekend is El Pueblo de Los Angeles, the oldest area in the city. This features a lovely pedestrianised plaza, and a busy and charming Mexican market at Olvera Street, complete with Mexican street entertainers. With grand old buildings in this area such as Pico House and Old Plaza Firehouse, this is a great buzzy, multicultural and historic area to spend a bit of time, which doesn't really fit at all with my preconceptions of LA. Also elsewhere in Downtown there is some remarkably cheap if shabby shopping, with genres of store clustered together into a "Fashion District", "Jewellry District" and so on.

El Pueblo de Los Angeles [picture pulled off Internet]

Just to complete a thoroughly enjoyable day in Downtown is the Museum of Contemporary Art (MOCA), which is without doubt the best modern art museum I've seen anywhere, seemingly featuring work by a complete roll-call of the greats. I loved it and if modern/contemporary art is even slightly your thing, this is an absolute must-see, period.
  
After Downtown, I spent another day down at the waterfront. Santa Monica is famous partially for its pier, which frankly seems to have less charm and no more glitz than any other pier you might go and see. However strolling along the beach, with its myriad beach volleyball courts and seriously buff topless guys was great fun. Also on the beach is, er, a designated chess-playing area, complete with numerous boards built into tables and one giant board complete with giant pieces. Santa Monica also has a very pleasant pedestrianised high street - it's completely chain-ified with not an independent store in sight, but on a nice day it beats a mall hands-down as a shopping experience.

Further along the shoreline is Venice Beach, which could generously be described as
"alternative", with a busy line-up of stalls and shops peddling reggae CDs, bracelets, paintings, new age supplies and so on. (I was asked several times by merchants if I wanted to buy reggae CDs - I did consider asking if they had any Linda Bengtzing but figured the joke would be a little wasted!) The atmosphere was sort of interesting to briefly observe, but otherwise it was a tad underwhelming to me at least - if you are into reggae and dreadlocks however, you might well love it. Much nicer and without a hint of the grunginess, only a few blocks away from the beach, was Venice Canal Walk. This is genuinely idyllic, spotlessly clean and totally peaceful with charming multi-coloured houses and I could easily have spent much more time wandering around than I had available.

I also made it out to Beverly Hills, an undeniably chic, spotless and pleasantly calm area, in order to visit the Museum of Tolerance, which chronicles and explores bigotry and intolerance in all its forms. Sadly, they have airport-style security there, meaning I imagine that it is believed to be a target for extremists of one type or another. I got a taste of just how car-oriented LA is when they informed me that I couldn't bring any fluids in and there were no cloakroom facilities - they clearly expect everyone to drive there and to just leave any water etc in the car. As I was unwilling to abandon the water I'd brought with me for the whole day, I eventually persuaded them after taking a sip of my water in front of them to let me keep it, but it was clearly an exception and it was as if I was the first water-carrying pedestrian they'd ever seen! Amongst the exhibits there was an excellent if shocking multimedia display tracking the myriad extremist websites out there preaching every kind of hate you can imagine - quite sobering to see for someone who's never exactly gone looking for them. The Internet is a double-edged sword indeed.

I also had a stroll through West Hollywood, another relaxed and chic area which seems to be pretty much defined by its gay population and scene. I'd never seen so many rainbow flags in one district and most of the people out on the streets (in the very early evening midweek) seemed to be gay men - bearing in mind that in true LA style, the area stretches out over several miles. However, between what I'd read about the nature of the LA scene but particularly the difficulty of safely getting there and back late at night from where I was staying in Hollywood, I ended up not actually going there for a night out. Infuriatingly, I'd actually arrived in LA just as  the Pride weekend was starting - but by the time I realised this (LA not exactly being the sort of city where you 'can't miss' something happening elsewhere in town), it was more or less at an end. Whoops - not a mistake I intend to make again when travelling.

If you know anything at all about my political persuasion, you'll be able to guess roughly what I think of the levels of inequality in the US. You didn't have to look too hard to see some of the downsides of the American dream. There are a lot of people begging on the streets, some of whom clearly have mental health issues. Vandalism is clearly rife - for example you won't find a public toilet (sorry, "restroom") that you don't need to get a key or a combination by making a purchase to open. And the Greyhound bus station is apparently in virtually a no-go area after dark, when you're advised to get a taxi to come or go - at the risk of being naive, I'm not really aware that such areas really exist in London. I've read LA described as the "city of private places", and public space seemed to be in pretty short supply. However, I'd have to admit that it didn't feel as wild or as barbarous overall as I might like to sometimes assume when I'm eating my muesli a stone's throw from Islington. I wouldn't presume to have got a sense of what it's like to actually live here - except to note that if you live in somewhere like Beverly Hills you seem to be buying yourself great physical separation from the city's social problems.

As I'd gleefully anticipated after the so-so winter weather in Australia and truly horrible conditions in New Zealand, the LA weather was mostly lovely - really pleasantly warm and bright without a trace of humidity. The hostel receptionist complained to me that it was well below average and (shock horror!) a little cold early in the morning - if that was poor weather, I'll take it please!

When it's that nice it's difficult not to enjoy yourself just walking around and soaking up the sunshine, but genuinely I was pleasantly surprised by LA. It goes without saying that it's not the kind of place I could contemplate living in, and overall I'm probably not likely to rush back given all the other places on my travel wishlist, but up to a point I really can see the attraction of the place. It is very calm and surprisingly well organised, with for the most part a well maintained feel - felt more like a place on planet Earth, and in the civilised West at that, than I expected. And no doubt I'm very glad to have seen it.

Thursday, 24 June 2010

Freezing in New Zealand

New Zealand in wintertime is cold, windy, dark and often thoroughly wet. Obviously I knew this before deciding to spend one week of my round-the-world trip there, but perhaps what I hadn't appreciated is how important acclimatisation, or the lack of it, is. One of my Scandinavian friends once told me that they cope with their winters because each day/week is only a little colder and darker than the one before over a period of several months, so they get used to it. The New Zealand climate is more British than Scandinavian, but the trouble was that it hadn't been long at all since my prolonged exposure to constant heat of anything between 30-odd and 44 degrees C in Asia. So it felt absolutely bloody freezing to me. And I think also that sudden loss of hours and intensity of daylight was also a shock to the system. I'm not saying I wish I hadn't gone to New Zealand, but to anyone else considering a round-the-world trip, the impact of travelling through wildly different climactic conditions is something to bear in mind!

I limited myself to the North Island, which earned me incredulous looks from a couple of other travellers on the grounds that South Island is supposed to be prettier. However it's also that much colder in winter, and would have left me spending too much of my week in transit given that my onward flight across the Pacific needed to be from Auckland, towards the north of North Island. So, I went to the two major cities of Wellington and Auckland, and in-between to Rotorua. Travelling between these places by bus was very scenic, albeit in a largely English-style way, definitely part of the experience.

Major world cities Wellington and Auckland are not; bear in mind that New Zealand has only just over 4 million inhabitants, and they're generally a pretty understated sort anyway. Around a quarter of them are in Auckland; Wellington is the capital however due to its more central location, but it has a population of barely 200,000. I only counted one tall tower block there. While Auckland does have the tallest building in the southern hemisphere, the Sky Tower (aptly described by Lonely Planet as looking like a giant hypodermic giving a fix to the heavens), it seems to have a reputation for having a largely dull and generic city centre. A few points of interest included a modest, modern square commemorating New Zealand being the first country in the world to enfranchise women, and the surprisingly bold 1926 Art Nouveau University Clock Tower; however overall I didn't see too much to disprove the reputation. What charm there is in Wellington city centre seems to come largely from the bohemian cafes and live music venues around Cuba Street - although the whole city only boasts one rather provincial, albeit reasonable, gay venue, Club Ivy. Wellington city's main architectural claim to fame, the modernist concrete government office building called the Beehive, is a bit of a monstrosity.
Wellington. Alas not my photos in this article or the next couple, for reasons explained a bit later on - and not quite the weather I experienced there either!

What both cities certainly do have however are impressive natural settings. Wellington Airport is right on the shoreline of the Cook Strait, the narrow stretch of water between North and South Islands - it looked like my plane from Melbourne was landing on water until dry land of the runway became visible at the very last moment (not entirely a great minute or two for this slightly nervous flyer!). Wellington is built on enough of a slope, with some reserves of forest still standing between the very modest buildings up the slopes, to make for a famous and very picturesque view from the waterfront. Auckland is built on a very narrow strip of land between the Tasman Sea on one side and Pacific Ocean on the other; it is called The City of Sails for the fairly staggering 135,000 pleasure boats that live in its waters. It's also built on an area of volcanic activity, and the Auckland Museum tells how an eruption is inevitable sooner or later - albeit there have only been 19 in the last 20,000 years.
Auckland, with the Sky Tower towards the right [picture pulled off Internet]


Unfortunately the weather was just too inhospitable in the very limited time I had available for extensive exploration of either city. The Auckland Museum, with social history and design galleries as well as Maori anthropology, is a good way to spend a wet afternoon. Also in Auckland I did enjoy an (admittedly rather overpriced) visit to Kelly Tarlton's Antartic Encounter and Underwater World - my first opportunity to see penguins! Attractive but strange creatures, they are well worth seeing. When I first saw some near the venue's entrance I thought for a good few seconds I was looking at plastic models, so rigid and statuesque are they when stood still. Then when they do walk, it is really rather comical - they are fairly rotund with their layer of blubber but their legs are virtually non-existent above their big orange webbed feet. They therefore look very much like they are waddling, but also like they are extremely unstable on their feet. However, when you are able to observe them swimming in the water, there is no doubt that they look efficient and extremely graceful.

The definite highlight however of my trip to New Zealand was Rotorua. It's a fairly small town (deader at night than almost anywhere I've seen in my whole life), but it is the country's number one tourist destination. The large, rather beautiful and serene Lake Rotorua, upon one side of which the town is built is a substantial attraction; however the main draw is that this is an area of geothermal activity.

Plumes of hot steam rise up from drains and even solid ground fairly randomly all over the place. Notoriously, there is a pervasive odour of sulphur in the air throughout the area, although I found it faint enough to be just amusing rather than offensive, and it seemed to come and go (perhaps it is stronger in still summer weather than in breezy winter weather). There are bubbling pools of hot mud in various places - and the undisputed highlight, geysers which periodically shoot up torrents of boiling hot and steaming (98C) water many metres into the air. When in full flow it is rather like watching an upside-down waterfall, and with rough limestone rocks below the geysers the overall effect is disinctly unworldly, like you've stepped into some underworld or onto another planet. I strongly recommend seeing them or other major geysers (eg in Iceland or Yellowstone National Park, USA) if you get the chance as I found it a unique and memorable experience and so clearly did other visitors.
Welcome to Middle Earth... Or the geysers at Rotorua [picture pulled off Internet]

This natural endowment is also tapped by man. At my hostel in Rotorua I was initially fairly horrified that the front door into the lounge was propped wide open, allowing the chilly winter draft right in, while the heating was on high. I took an opportunity to gently point out to a member of staff how horrible this must be for the environment, who replied that all the heating was geothermal! Oops.

Rotorua also has the country's largest Maori population. The traditional Maori area of town Ohinemutu features some charming carved wooden Maori architcture, but the general impression was one of integration. A local guy Michael (brother of my work colleague Anna) I'd done lunch with in Wellington told me with some pride that there is much less of a legacy of injustice, tension and separateness for New Zealand's indigenous population compared to Australia's, and my limited observations seemed to bear that out. For example I was slightly surprised to find that the shoreline of Ohinemutu has a church which is unmistakeably Anglican, but with Maori art on the walls and Maori inscriptions on the stained glass windows - it seems that many Maoris, at least in Rotorua, converted to Christianity in the 19th Century pretty readily. This church also has a huge clear glass pane looking out onto Lake Rotorua - plain except for a carving of Jesus, who thus appears to be walking on the lake behind. It was touching, even to this committed atheist.
Ohinemutu [picture pulled off internet]

While at the park containing the geysers, the full Maori name of which is Te Whakarewaretanga o te ope taua a wahiao (The uprising of the warriors of Wahiao), I was also able to take in a traditional Maori concert. This involving a scantily clad troupe (I don't think they're particularly supposed to look sexy, but, erm, they kind of do) dancing and playing various traditional musical instruments, and sometimes sticking their tongues out while wide-eyed, which is one of their traditional ways of expressing hostility to outsiders. They gave us a run-through of the haka, the war dance made famous of course by the New Zealand rugby team, then pulled all the guys out of the audience to practise it ourselves! It was too rushed to really get the hang of it but I'm sure I must have looked all manly and terrifying to any would-be invaders, honest. ;-) Another one-off experience anyway and pretty good fun too.

Also at Te Whaka (as it's unsurprisingly shortened to) is an indoor sanctuary for Kiwi birds, the national emblem of New Zealand but sadly critically endangered; they had few predators until European colonisation in the mid-19th Century brought in new threats such as dogs, ever since when their numbers have been in catastrophic decline. They are flightless with curiously long feathers and exceptionally long bills - they're really quite endearing in a funny sort of way. They pair off for life, and females lay eggs which are quite exceptionally large for their size (getting all the women in my tour group wincing); they require an extended rest after laying one, meaning that it's up to the male to raise offspring. However, the females are so territorial that the father has to literally force the offspring off their patch, never to return, before the mother recuperates and gets back on her feet - at which point she would kill it as an invader. A good reminder that it takes all sorts to make the kingdom of nature!

I think I can now, with a little concentration, reliably distinguish an Australian accent from a New Zealand one. The Kiwi accent is just a little amusing at times to this Englishman - it is like somebody has taken a vowel pronunciation chart and totally jumbled it up. Their way of saying "fush and chups" is quite well known, but I also thought a local guy I met named Matt had said his name was Met, and that another was asking me if I had a pin (pen) to write with. This is surely also the only country qualified for the football World Cup which, a few days before it started, was still leading its sports bulletins instead with the build-up to a routine rugby international (against Ireland).

From the New Zealand winter it was on, with a certain amount of gratitude, to summer in California..

Thursday, 17 June 2010

Melbourne

For a city of 3.8 million people - only a fraction smaller than Sydney - Melbourne seems quite an understated sort of place. (How often is that true of second cities?) It hasn't got anything quite as stand-out iconic as Sydney Harbour, and Lonely Planet advises that you should be prepared to take some time to appreciate the city's charms. However despite that and the sometimes chilly winter weather, I really warmed to it very quickly.


The definite focal point of the city, self-styled as the city's meeting place, is Federation
Square. Decidedly modern in design and construction, flanked by some fairly way-out but tasteful and very attractive architecture, it always seems to be buzzing. With the beautiful Edwardian Flinders Street station across the road, it's all rather lovely and makes the city a whole lot more human and legible. 
 
Federation Square


The whole city centre benefits hugely from wide streets and buildings large enough to give a big-city feel but not so big as to feel inhuman. This seemed to make appreciating the showpiece colonial era buildings somehow easier than I found it in Sydney. The standout is the large and rather majestic State Parliament of Victoria, built as Australia's federal parliament but downgraded once Canberra had been established as the federal capital.


They say that Melbourne feels much more European than Sydney, and a couple of times wandering around I felt as if I could be in Scandinavia. The city centre bars I went to, courtesy of my Finnish friend turned Melbourne student Kaarina, felt much more like Berlin - one with wooden packing crates for seats and street art-style decor.


The South Bank of the river is rather unusual in being both the city's main cultural hub with several galleries, but also a very businessy area full of suits and skyscrapers. It probably bears some comparison with London's Canary Wharf, and with its modern, sculptured feel it's similarly lovely to stroll around.
 
The river and the South Bank


Like in Sydney, I was really struck by buzzing arty districts such as Carlton and Fitzroy just a shortish walk from the city centre, stuffed full of lovely independent cafes, restaurants, ice cream shops and so on. Melbourne has a real cafe culture without doubt. Thanks to a local friend of Rob's I was introduced to a nice bar/restaurant on Brunswick Street in Fitzroy called Bimbo's Deluxe, that does happy-hour pizzas for just $4 - and memorable dessert pizzas for the same price topped with cream cheese instead of mozzarella, and your choice of fruit or chocolate topping. A great idea that I'm surprised hasn't caught on more widely!


The beach district of St Kilda, a tram ride away from the centre, is nearly as attractive, with a characterful pier (complete with a protected colony of small penguins) and a truly beautiful beachfront. There weren't many people around the beach on a winter midweek afternoon, but I've no doubt that on a summer weekend it would be fantastic, probably in a more understated (and comfor able?) way than Bondi in Sydney. St Kilda also has a particular concentration of mouthwatering cake shops. While many countries seem to do delicious cakes and pastries much better than the UK (another failure of our national cuisine?), in Australia they seem to be everywhere and particularly impressive.


I made a pilgrimage to the Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG). With its capacity of 100,000, it's the second largest cricket ground in the world (the largest is in Kolkata) and well up there amongst the largest sports grounds in the world - used as the main arena for the 1956 Olympic Games and 2006 Commonwealth Games. It's also used through each winter for Australian rules football. I've always been somewhat in awe of it when following the England cricket team's tours of Australia (I follow cricket when I can now, but for many years in my younger days it was much more of a passion), and it was the scene of probably the most miraculous England Test victory in my living memory in December 1998, so it was a real boyish thrill for me to be there. I lapped up the excellent and comprehensive tour of the ground given by a Melbourne Cricket Club volunteer (wearing the stripey club blazer only marginally less ridiculous than the Marylebone Cricket Club one), taking in the changing rooms, honours boards, players' walkway, commentary boxes, Long Room and so on.

Me at the Melbourne Cricket Ground... it's quite big!!


From the very top of the stadium there were pretty good views of the city, and an opportunity to marvel at extraordinarily good urban planning. I'd walked to the ground as it's a very comfortable walk from the city centre (try walking to Wembley Stadium, or the 2012 Olympic Park, from central London!), but there's also a railway station in close proximity which is apparently able to deal with the surging numbers. And just a stone's throw away from the MCG and the station are also the city's rugby/football ground, swimming centre and Rod Laver Arena (home to the Australian Open, one of the world's four major tennis tournaments). Incredibly elegant and practical, and a massive statement about the huge importance of sport in Australian life.


Within the MCG is the National Museum of Sport, with (amongst other displays, but of most interest to me) excellent coverage of the Olympics and of the Australian cricket team. As well as caps and other clothing/equipment of various great cricketers including Donald Bradman, the annoyingly large number of cricketing trophies held by Australia were all on display, including no fewer than four World Cups (that's four more than England have won). I did have a quiet self-satisfied chuckle at the way the trophies were arranged to not acknowledge one considerable gap - the Ashes trophies, which are no doubt safely in England after we won them back from Australia in the last series in 2009. :-)


I'd also thoroughly recommend a visit to the absorbing ACMI, the Australian Centre for the Moving Image. Australia didn't have television until 1956 (that's 20 years later than the UK) - apparently this wasn't so much due to any technological or funding barriers as to politicians stalling out of fear for the effects TV would have on family life and children's development. Well, maybe they had a point...


I was asked several times whether I preferred Melbourne or Sydney. While still in Melbourne I was answering Melbourne; now that I've left and got overall thoughts together, I wouldn't be able to choose between the two. Sydney is definitely more exciting, but Melbourne has easily the more livable feel.


My feeling, both at the time and since I moved on, that I could really live in either Sydney or Melbourne was strong. With minimal cultural barriers and the very favourable climate, it might be realistic (rather than an impractical dream as it is with a certain other city everyone knows I'm very drawn to) - were it not for the fact that you can't get a visa to work in Australia for more than 12 months, unless there is no suitable Australian candidate for your position. With my education and work background, the chances of that are pretty much zero. And even on a 12-month visa the Australian Government expects you to move between short-term positions - likely therefore to be low-wage monkey jobs, which makes it a much less attractive proposition for me. As I aspire (rather vaguely) to go back to university to study for a Masters at some point, possibly doing so overseas would be an option, but a very expensive one alas. Anyway, maybe some research and thought is needed on my part; but I will definitely go back to Australia one way or another (for more than the 12 nights of this visit) sooner rather than later.

Saturday, 12 June 2010

Sydney

Getting to Australia inevitably felt almost like a homecoming after two and a half months on the road mostly in Asia. Obviously English is pretty much the only language you see and hear, and if you live in London you're already very familiar with the accents and relaxed, generally friendly manner of Australians - one reason why I was particularly looking forward to my visit. Almost immediately you're handling coins with the Queen's head on them - this felt like such a slice of home that I forgot for a good 10 seconds or so that I'm an ardent republican! :-)


It feels to me like there is generally a relaxed understanding and connection between Australians and Brits - our cultures and world views don't exactly seem so different. If that sounds like a historical no-brainer, I figure I'm not entirely sure how much I'm going to get the same feeling in North America, but we'll see.


I was fortunate that my good friends from London Rob and Dushyan had decided fairly last minute to holiday in Sydney and then Melbourne with dates that almost exactly overlapped with mine. It's been fantastic to be able to see and hang out with friends from home again, if slightly odd too having been mentally prepared since March for not seeing anyone from home until Stockholm Pride at the end of July! It had felt as if an age had passed since I last saw them when in fact it was only a little over two months - time definitely passes a lot more slowly when you're away from the daily treadmill and experiencing something different every day.


The weather I experienced in Sydney was poor, with lots of rain and cloud, and one day which was so unrelentingly sodden it would have been atrocious by English standards. Even though late May is late autumn if not winter in the southern hemisphere, all the locals I spoke to suggested this was pretty exceptional and hot on the heels of a long spell of fine weather. If I'd had a dollar for every Australian who joked about the rain making me feel right at home, I'd be quite a bit less poor! Fortunately I was able to pass the wettest afternoon at the excellent Museum of Sydney which, with Sydney having been the first European settlement in what became Australia, really does give an insight into the excitements and many problems (and, sadly, crimes against the indigenous population) associated with nation-building in this (then) remote corner of the world.


The one day that the sun did come out, it was bordering on warm... and I got a touch sunburnt. It hadn't remotely occurred to this naive English boy that you can get sunburnt in the Australian equivalent of late November! Someone mentioned to me afterwards that it is partly due to the ozone layer being much thinner in this part of the world.


Where else could you start sightseeing in Sydney but at Sydney Harbour? The extraordinary Sydney Opera House is, like the Taj Mahal, one of those world-famous sights which really is as good as the hype. It's just so unique, and stunningly and perhaps strangely graceful. It's well worth taking a lingering walk right round, since it felt like it reveals something new from every angle.

The iconic Sydney Harbour Bridge is I believe (without having compared diagrams) of somewhat similar design to the Tyne Bridge which links Newcastle to Gateshead in England, but obviously beats it hands down for both size and setting. Its sheer scale becomes more impressive the more you see of it and learn about it. An essential activity is to climb the 'Pylon', one of the four mostly ornamental towers at each corner of the bridge - the view all around the Harbour and beyond is truly breathtaking and a major highlight of my entire trip. Also told there is the story of the bridge's construction, which took seven whole years after planning was complete. None of today's safety essentials such as helmets or tethers was available to the construction workers, and several died on site as a result.


There's a very pleasant atmosphere all around the Harbour too, which is quite a cultural as well as a transport hub. The free Museum of Contemporary Arts (MCA) there is excellent, but probably longer in the memory will live the unusual range of buskers around the waterfront, which included an Aboriginal man playing a dhidgerydoo over a hard house backing track, and a guy in a tuxedo dancing the samba with an inflatable dummy for a partner...


The other legendary area of Sydney is of course Bondi, and even with the ropey winter weather it was well worth spending half a day there. I feel that the reputation of the sandy beach area itself probably owes more to the undeniable atmosphere (even on a winter's day; in summer an average 35,000 flock daily) than to any particularly incredible natural beauty. However, wander just a little away from the sand and you do get a pretty breathtaking glimpse into the power of nature, with large waves off the Pacific Ocean fairly crashing into large rock formations. Even on this winter's day there were several dozen surfers out in the water and as I've never seen any before, it was fun to watch them enjoying the waves. A water baby I am not but it's not hard to see the appeal! Apparently the strength of the waves keeps the lifeguards busy rescuing swimmers on a daily basis however.
It's hard to capture much of the awesomeness of the waves around Bondi Beach in a still photo, but hopefully you get some sense...


Sydney city centre lacks a real focal point, say an iconic public square. It does have Hyde Park right in the centre of things, a fraction of the size of its London namesake but beautifully maintained and somehow very lovely indeed to wander around. Other than that though, although there are moderately impressive colonial buildings and statues dotted around the city centre, I generally found it a little on the impersonal and non-descript side. At nighttime in winter it is definitely helped by the projection of interesting light images onto some of the landmark buildings - definitely something that should be copied more widely in other cities.


But if the city centre is at times underwhelming, this is definitely compensated for by other reasonably central areas. Both Potts Point (where I initially stayed in a hostel) and, even more so Newtown (where my lovely Couchsurfing hosts Ghassan and Theo live), are really lovely, with a great atmosphere and charming independent cafes, bakeries and galleries. Newtown seemed to be a real leftie, arty, bohemian enclave with a sense of local community - I was genuinely amazed since the feeling of that I got was probably stronger than anywhere I know in London, and it was a real insight to be shown round the area by a savvy local. I talked to Ghassan about rental prices and it seems that very decent flats in Newtown are far more affordable than I'd expect for a similarly nice area in London.


Not entirely by accident (although it had only involved tweaking my first-draft itinerary plans by something like one day), my stay in Sydney coincided with the Eurovision Song Contest, all three shows of which are broadcast annually in full in primetime (thanks to time delays) on the country's multi-cultural network SBS.


Thanks to the lovely British ex-pat and keen Eurovision and schlager fan Louisa (miss you!), I had an invite to house parties for both semi-finals. I think Louisa had pretty much arm-twisted an American (!) friend Joe who just happens to have a spacious central flat that he wanted to allow an assortment of randoms (including a Swedish girl, and a genuine Aussie who's previously flown all the way to Europe to be at Eurovision) into his flat for this thing called Eurovision. He was a fantastically generous host, despite a conversation along the lines of:
Joe: "So will they sing different songs in the final?"
Me and Louisa: "No, the same songs."
Joe: "Oh. That's a bit boring."
Me and Louisa: "It's a SONG contest!!"
Joe: "It should be a band contest..."
I did try my best not to scowl for the next half hour, honestly I did...


Much fun was had with impromptu schlager parties afterwards (the second one a wake to help get over the debacle of the heartbreakingly dull and weakly performed Swedish entry failing to qualify for the final)... Slightly too much fun too late into the night, as the police turned up at about 1am regarding noise nuisance, and neighbours egged the balcony. I think it was Louisa's rousing solo performance of "Molitva" that had done it...


For the final we headed to Oxford Art Factory on Oxford Street, a cavernous basement venue showing Eurovision on big screens. The time delay in broadcast had become a problem, since earlier that day when I was introduced to a visiting member of Theo's family as a Eurovision fan, he said "Oh Germany won didn't they?" And in the middle of the Australian broadcast, one of the group of rather annoying Irish boys near us took great delight in telling me that the UK had come last. But nonetheless it was good fun, the venue was pretty busy with locals appearing to get quite into it... And the best song won (again) too. SBS's commentary by Australians had been bland and fairly clueless, and the venue closing almost immediately at the end of transmission was unexpected and unwelcome, but then how much can you really expect for Eurovision in Australia on Sunday night?


The slight downside of my one weekend in Sydney being taken up with Eurovision (and with the delayed broadcasts being on three consecutive nights whereas live in Europe you get days off in-between, it felt unusually hardcore) was that I didn't end up with the energy or proper opportunities for full exploration of Sydney's legendary gay scene. I did go to the famous Stonewall Hotel and a couple of other Oxford Street venues midweek, but really I'll have to reserve judgment until I go back to Sydney, whenever that might be. You can't do everything, everywhere, every time. I did skim in a bookshop parts of an Australian book lamenting the supposed shrinkage of Sydney's gay scene in recent years, allegedly due to integration with the mainstream and the 'Gaydar effect' (i.e. gay people now using the Internet to hook up instead of going out), or even gay people leaving Sydney for elsewhere. However just walking around the streets (and chatting with great locals) there was no doubt it's still a very gay city.


As I've mentioned Australian currency, a vaguely interesting point is that banknotes appear to be largely made of a very thin lightweight plastic rather than paper. Once you get used to this, it's really quite welcome, since they appear much more durable than British banknotes. I imagine there'd be a huge uproar if the Bank of England tried introducing the same, but surely everyone dislikes grubby English fivers? The banknotes make up for the extraordinarily large Australian coins - I'm sure they're larger than British 50p, 10p and 5p coins were before they were made smaller in my youth, even though tne Aussie versions are worth barely half as much. Added to that that the $2 coin is very similar to the $1 coin but smaller...


I was a bit surprised by Sydney's public transport, which seemed generally quite poor. The reach of the equivalent of the metro seems really quite limited, the trains are pretty dirty and a little dingy, and they're surprisingly infrequent, as in my limited experience were the buses too. There also doesn't seem to be any equivalent of the touch-card system that most cities I've been to seem to have adopted. This may well not be typical of the rest of Australia however, as Ghassan mentioned that the state government of New South Wales has been feeble for many years.


Gripes aside though, I had a fantastic week in Sydney, no doubt about it. There's no doubt that at a different time of year with warmth, no rain and light evenings, it would be even better. Do I want to go back sometime sooner rather than later? You bet I do.