I hadn’t been back to Sydney for a few years. I was recently in town, and in no particular order, here are a few random observations.
It’s the kulcha mate. I heard this enlightening comment from a bloke behind me on the flight to Sydney, “I went to Zurich and f*cking paid 20 bucks for a beer. Then, “I feel pretty cultured though now that I’ve been to Zurich.” Sydney’s gain, Zurich’s loss.
As you walk off the aircraft, those first corridors are soulless. They need something more Australian, more Sydney. I don’t mean an animatronic Paul Hogan offering a shrimp on the barbie, or a Sydney “personality” (Roxie Jacenko?) welcoming you, but something.
The taxi driver from the airport was a nice bloke, sans BO, which is always a bonus. I was watching the meter violently ticking over like a Geiger counter in Chernobyl. It was late on a Sunday night with no traffic and the fare to the CBD was stupid dollars. I’d forgotten how expensive taxis are.
To misquote Eric Idle, Sydney keeps on expanding and expanding… faster than a Married at First Sight star’s 15 nanoseconds of fame. Why are the motorways a permanent construction zone? Why didn’t they future proof them when they were first built? The boffins behind the Sydney Harbour Bridge got it right. In 1932.
You need a bank loan to buy a simple, garden-variety sandwich, pub meals are now the same price as fancy restaurants… no doubt to pay for the funky hipster light globes you see in every pub.
Speaking of hipsters, on my last visit I noticed every drink was served in a mason jar, and food was served in a pot plant, slab of slate or on a shovel. Thankfully restaurants have rediscovered glasses and plates.
The hipsters still have some influence… new-old-school barber shops have sprung up everywhere in Sydney’s CBD (along with discount chemist shops). I had a haircut at one said barber, and thankfully didn’t emerge with a man bun and Grizzly Adams beard, wearing a flannelette shirt and riding a skateboard.
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To mute the Celine Dion wannabe, I should have joined the ever-increasing numbers of Sydney-siders talking to themselves while wearing headphones or AirPods. A woman in my hotel was talking at the top of her voice to herself about KPIs, spreadsheets, working capital and “visual optics.” I’m not sure if she was wearing AirPods or it was a serious mental health issue. I encountered many annoying people on speakerphone calls or watching stuff on their phone. Show some consideration. I’m talking to you, person on the train watching a documentary on rubber trees without headphones. SHUT. THE. F*CK. UP.
I caught the Sydney Metro a few times, excellent. Though “Tallawong” sounds like a naughty euphemism in a Slim Dusty song.
The spatial awareness of Sydney types was always crap, but it’s worse now. Digital zombies wander aimlessly, heads down, messaging / reading / watching / swiping. It will be natural selection at its best once the trams start running (again) in George Street. Hopefully they will have bull bars or snow ploughs.
I kept seeing ads flogging undies designed for tradies. I’m disappointed they’re not in high-vis, though at least I didn’t see plumber’s crack.
My most profound moment in Sydney… I could understand the guard on the train. Simultaneously great for commuters and rather sad.
Having said all that, you gotta love Sydney *raises a mason jar*.
©Steve Williams 2019