Notes from a bloody big island

G'day.

I've got a few minutes kicking back my heels at the youth hostel in Sydney before I venture west to Adelaide via the India Pacific Railway.

Sydney is all about water. As long as you are near the water it is a fantastic place. But come inland and it could be any major city in the world.

The two most famous waterfront attractions are the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House. Both of these have featured large in my adventures over the last 3 days.

The Opera House has proved both disappointing and breathtaking in equal measure. The play I saw on Monday evening, 'Optimism', was awful. It reached its lowest point at the end of the first half when a one armed man, dripping in mud sang 'I could be so happy' as a dirge. Still jet lagged, I dozed off only to be awoken by a loud gunshot. I thought at first that I had been shot. You can only imagine my disappointment to discover that I hadn't and that I had lived to return for the second half.

Salvation came by way of the Opera House tour the next day. The building was meant to take 3 years to construct at a cost of $7m. But so grand was the design that it was deemed impossible to build. Completion eventually took 16 years and the costs were over $100m.

Inside and out, the building is a thing of imense beauty. Let me share one piece of insider information about it. The building with its 10 sails is not white but a slightly creamy beige. The colour comes from an exterior coating of ceramic tiles, 1,360,006 of them to be exact. And they are very similar to the ones in my kitchen.

Yesterday, 26th January, was Australia Day and Sydney was in the mood to party all day long. I began my own celebration with an exhilerating climb to the top of the Harbour Bridge. From up there, 137 metres above the ground I had a grandstand view of the 100's of boats that streamed in and out of the harbour.

It was a hot, sunny day with 85% humidity so quite a few cold ones were needed as I flitted around The Rocks area and was spoiled by the many free concerts being performed.

Coming up next is a part of the trip I have long been looking forward to - the India Pacific Railway. The youth hostel I am in now was the old railway and I have been sleeping in a converted carriage. It is a railway enthusiasts dream as only yards away there is the modern railway station and the soothing hum of diesel locomotives drifts into the dorm.

So what will be my alsting impression of Sydney? The tower, the aquarium, the bridge, the opera house? No. The bats. They're huge. Every eveining at dusk they swoop over city like leather dinner plates. Hundreds of them. I stand there, open mouthed, looking up muttering 'Big bats' and pointing to anyone who might be interested. But no one is.

Live long and prosper.