Given the inherent stresses in moving to another continent, it was bound to happen that one of us would fall ill.  I am the victim, catching a case of the Australian flu.  It’s really no different from the American flu except perhaps in its frustration factor.  There is still a huge city out there to explore but I am stuck here on the sofa, laid out flat by this feverish flu.  It is, however, giving me the opportunity to check out Australian TV.  We have 5 stations that so far have shown a lot of rugby news and Two and a Half Men.

Prior to contracting the flu, we spent a great afternoon a few days ago exploring the Sydney Harbour.  There was the intentional exploration of the Milson and McMahon Point neighborhoods along the lower north shore, reached by a stroll across the Sydney Harbour bridge.  This was accomplished after our unintentional exploration of western Sydney, brought about by my over-eagerness to get on the ferry.  People were crowding the gate and there was much peer pressure to get on, let me on, let me squeeze into a place closer to the front of the line.  But then the ferry motored on past the dock we were expecting it to stop at, showing no signs of slowing down.  Hmmm, what’s going on here?  Oh, now that I look at the map again (now remembering the old adage, measure twice cut once), this is not the right boat.  We are heading deep into the harbour, into an area for which we have no maps.  No problem, we’ll get off at the first stop and catch a boat back.  Only it’s Sunday, so the ferries are on reduced service.   Oops.

Having at least an hour before the next boat back, we opted to hop a bus into the town of Hunters Hill, the driver indicating there were a few shops there and we could easily catch another bus back to the pier.  What he failed to tell us was that the next bus back to the pier was a solid 3 hours later.  And again, being Sunday, nothing was really open in the little hamlet of Hunters Hill.  Hanging out at the bus stop, we decided to catch the next bus back to Circular Quay, no matter how long the ride might be.  Turned out it wasn’t bad at all, and gave us a nice overview of the western harbour.  What we really enjoyed about the bus, though, was the air conditioning.

Sidenote:  Melting in the Sydney heat is a daily reality for us Pacific Northwesterners.  We may burn out the motor on our household fan, as it is constantly on and we have taken to carrying it around the condo, like a tank of oxygen.  When we move to more permanent housing, I hope to furnish it with a fan on wheels.  Surely they must sell fan caddies here.  If not, I may just be onto the next big thing.  And by marketing it here in Sydney, I could automatically charge at least three times more than it’s worth, as that seems to be the pricing structure here.

Back at Circular Quay by our most circuitous route, we opted to walk across the Sydney Harbour Bridge.  There were fantastic views back toward the city and Opera House, and enough of a breeze to keep us comfortable.  From the northern end we walked our way through Luna Park, around Lavender Bay, and down Blues Point Road, in the upscale neighborhood of McMahon’s Point.  Meandering into Sawmillers Reserve, on Berry Bay, we sat on the waterside stone stairs, admiring the views across the harbour and the peacefulness of the park, local Sydneysiders enjoying Sunday picnics with friends.  This could be us someday, we thought, once we figure out where to live, how to drive backwards, and if it’s safe to sit in the grass.

The end of that day was the beginning of my flu, but that didn’t stop Gina from socializing each evening.  There was the “Going With the Wind” concert Monday night at The Con (Conservatory) – an evening of classical music – to which Cynthia took her.  Turns out our other neighbor Kim is not only the Dean of The Con but a world-renowned bassoonist.  Despite not knowing what a bassoon was, Gina embraced the experience and came home all the more enlightened, having enjoyed a post-concert bottle of wine with not only the famous bassoonist but also with the third most famous flautist in the world.  Who knew she would become so instantly cultured here in Sydney?

Then last night, while I was flicking back and forth between our 5 channels, learning about Sydney’s rising housing costs (great!), where to buy discounted appliances (this could come in handy), and that KFC offers a “Superstar” smorgasbord sampler here in Sydney, Gina spent the evening touring the Eastern Suburbs with Susan, an expatriate friend of football Stasi.  Susan has been giving us the lowdown on Sydney life over the past few months via email and now our goal is to pick her brain in person.  We are looking forward to getting to know her better and perhaps becoming her neighbors, as she lives in Tamarama, a beachside suburb with ocean views, which sounds right up our alley.