Apparently the city of Sydney was on some sort of time delay or everyone had jetlag. As we approached the Circular Quay wharf (took the ferry due to maintenance work on our train line), it looked like millions of ants scurrying about as if someone kicked the ant pile. Still, no worries. Our goal for the day (Saturday, June 28th): capture a night shot of the bridge and opera house. Location: Royal Botanical Gardens, more specifically – an area called Mrs. Macquarie’s Chair. The gardens are located behind the Opera house. Trails twist and wind throughout this green and luscious park. We took the trail which borders the water, and made our way to this famous photo opt spot. After 20 minutes of walking, climbing up never-ending stairs, weaving through locals, tourists, and a wedding party, we arrived at our destination. After watching the city sight-seeing bus drop off tourists at the top location every 15 minutes, we decided to scout out an area just a few steps down from the top. There were two other photo enthusiasts positioned there as well. Scott set up the tri-pod near one of the photographers whose family had accompanied him. They had a three year old son named Mark that the kids just loved. It was a mutual feeling and a great distraction while we took photos of this famous Australian skyline. Morgan, even with the distraction of Mark, had been out of sorts; probably due to her choice of not eating much of a lunch. She was quickly shutting down, starting with her silent cry (mouth open, face looking like its crying, but no sound) and then progressed into more of nonsense cry talk. We broke Rule #1 when traveling with the kids: Make sure you have food – no matter what. We had just planned on letting them eat at McDonald’s, so we reassured Morgan we were leaving to go straight for food. About 10 minutes into our journey back to Circular Quay, our mouths dropped. The Garden gates were closed. And can you guess what time they were locked shut? Yes, you got it – 5PM! Not quite sure of where to go next, we asked for directions. Our journey back was about a 20 minute walk through Hyde Park (which by the way – as we approached what looked to be a museum of sorts, a large mass of people in several groups, some of which had long sticks or poles, were standing around right where we needed to pass through and our immediate thought was what did we walk into; for a brief second I felt in trouble. Until we heard through a PA system say, “OK, back to first position… “And then he began reading scripture. They were practicing for the upcoming World Youth Day when the Pope comes to visit.), then to the train station for two stops until we were back at the Quay.
Comparing Cultures
McDonald’s was packed. Grabbing the kids while Scott stood in line, I managed to find a four top table. After all that crying, the whimpering, the complaining, did Morgan start to eat immediately? – NO! She was too distracted by the table next to us. A woman with two girls to the right of us were busy chatting, making up games (sucking up mini M & M’s with a straw – I’m not kidding), and starring at Mason and Morgan. The oldest girl kept saying how beautiful Morgan was, and we said thank you. And there was 10 year old, Katrina’s opening to begin a very lengthy fire of questions. She was there with her mom (excuse me, mum), and a best friend who was seven. I regret not finding out their names. We had such a wonderful time talking to these Australians, and to see the other side of things. First, Katrina’s questions: “Are you American?” “George W. Bush, do you know him? Have you met him?” “Do you know John & Kate plus Eight? Have you met them?” “Have you been to Arizona?” “What are the trains like where you live?” “What’s your emergency number? Ours is 000.” “What are your telephone numbers like?” Somehow between her assortment of questions, her mom was able to get in a word edgewise. They were from a suburb about 30 minutes away from Sydney. They come about once a week to walk about Circular Quay and gaze upon what she says is the most beautiful place in the world. “Where else can you go for free to see such a magnificent bridge and the Opera House, and then eat at McDonald’s? Where in the United States do you find tourists with cameras snapping away?” I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, because I do agree that Sydney Harbour is one of the most beautiful places in the world, just not the only one. I just smiled and said, “Well, there’s Disney World. And New York City.” She supposed so, but went on about how Sydney is just so incredible – and civilized too, not like Melbourne or Brisbane because Sydney has double-decker trains. It was hard not to chuckle a bit, but I just loved hearing what they all had to say. They were so nice, so friendly. Katrina’s mom also mentioned about 9/11, and how sorry she was about it… then leaned over to whisper in my ear, “Do you have a lot of those people, you know what I mean?!” My only assumption was Muslims because this was not the first time this subject came about. With a few 9/11 TV specials and a recent upset over the government’s decision to allow masques to be built in some neighboring cities, I wasn’t surprised to hear this comment. The Australian people (and we have encountered this on more than one occasion) do not want Muslims here at all. I said yes to her question, explained we had masques and schools as well. She was in disbelief and said, “Poor Georgy”, which I assumed meant her sympathy for George W. I actually had to ask all three of them at times to repeat themselves. It was the first time I really had to concentrate to hear exactly what an Australian was saying since their accents were so thick. We talked about scrapbooking, photos, and more about life back home. I don’t think any of us wanted to leave, but we all had to catch a ferry to get back home. We said our good-byes and headed off to the wharf. We missed our ferry by seconds. Next one departing would be one hour. We were tired, and neither Scott nor I had eaten yet. Our only way back now was a train ride one stop, and then a bus ride home (remember – maintenance track work on our line). As we stood there waiting for the train, Scott and I were already reminiscing about our McDonald’s encounter with Katrina and her crew. And then all of a sudden, we heard their voices – they had missed their ferry as well! We had another opportunity to visit with them as we waited for the next train, and rode together until our stop. And again, I regret not getting all of their names, or phone numbers for that matter. It was an interesting insight to how the average Australians see America. Katrina hopes to visit the states some day. Her mom never wants to leave Australia-”Why would I need to go anywhere else?” says the content, happy Australian.
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