April 11, Sydney: Deauxieme Partie (Part Two for Anglophiles)

We awoke in the Peninsula Hotel this morning, got dressed and headed to breakfast. We took a last look out of our living room window. Despite the strangeness of this hotel, we agreed that it probably had the best view of any of the places we’ve stayed to date. Hard to beat the view of the tropical greenery and the beach a scant 100 yards or so from your back door.

(View out the back door of our Peninsula hotel room)

After breakfast, we retrieved our luggage and waited for our driver to arrive, which occurred about the appointed hour of 9:30am. We had a pleasant one-hour drive from Port Douglas to the Cairns – do you remember how to pronounce it? – airport. Our driver, Cam, was an interesting fellow. He shared his story of being a semi-professional AFL (Australian rules Football League) player before experiencing a life-threatening injury to his spine. (He was in a coma for a few days and later had to wear a back brace for several months.) He was raised in Melbourne, but he moved to Port Douglas for health reasons. The weather is always warm, because it is a tropical climate; therefore, his back does not cause him as much pain as it would if he were living in a cooler climate.

Turns out one of his close friends is a former Metropolitan Opera singer, Alteouise DeVaughn, who now lives in Port Douglas. Her son, Justin Austin is a New York based opera baritone. Anyway, as I say, it was an interesting conversation, including a lengthy discussion about Australian, American, and New Zealand politics. Cam couldn’t understand the phenomenon of Donald Trump. We essentially said, “welcome to our club!” Along the way, I captured some more pictures of the Queensland coast. The coast is beautiful and we had the perfect sunny day on which to see it.

We arrived at the Cairns airport, checked in, and waited to board. This time we flew Virgin Australia Airlines. We were fortunate to have an exit row again, so plenty of leg room. Here’s how it looked from my window seat, as we were flying parallel to the Australian coastline.

After an uneventful three-hour flight, we approached Sydney, a very cosmopolitan city. Remember, we began our international excursion by landing in Sydney and spending one night here. However, our seats were not such that I could get photos as we approached. And having only spent one brief night, we did not have a feel for the city. Now, we will visit Sydney for the next 3-1/2 days, thus the title for today's blog edition, "Sydney: Part Two."

Here is how Sydney looked from my plane window, as we approached:

(Note the Harbor Bridge in the middle of the photo and the famous Sydney Opera House to the right and slightly above the bridge.)

(A clearer picture of the Sydney Opera House)

Our driver, Hamza, took us to our hotel, the Amora Jamison. Here are some Sydney street views along the way.

(As seen on the side of a delivery truck right next to my car window.)

Immediately after we checked into the room, Patrise looked on line for the following services, to see if any were near our hotel and open: nail salon (she has a broken nail), barbershop (I’m in need of a serious trim), laundry mat (many clothes that need washing), and a pharmacy. She thought she found a nail salon that advertised it was open until 10pm. We caught a taxi and eventually found where the salon was supposed to be. It was actually a one-woman operation embedded inside a spa, and the spa owner said the nail tech was not in; furthermore, she was booked for the next month. We wondered, why did she advertise being open to 10pm, if she wasn’t planning to be at the shop. Somewhat disappointed, we summoned an Uber and went back to the hotel.

Upon arriving at the hotel, rather than return to our room, we went exploring for a restaurant in the nearby vicinity. We happened upon the Grand Palace Indian restaurant, which had been voted the best Indian restaurant in Australia. It was a feast fit for royalty, but it was also way too much food for us to consume. We ate until full, then left the rest. Eating butter chicken there reminded us of our nephew, Joseph, whose favorite Indian food is butter chicken. Although it was 3am or so in Atlanta, I went ahead and texted him a picture of our meal. We knew when he saw it upon awakening tomorrow, he would get a chuckle out of seeing it.

After the meal, we returned to the hotel -- a steep uphill walk – reviewed the plans for tomorrow and gathered our clothing to go to the hotel laundry. Then we settled down for the remainder of the evening, preparing to go to bed a bit early. Our day tomorrow starts early; the driver picks us up at 8am.