Thursday, 12/31/09: Sydney

Postscript to yesterday’s entry: We underestimated the strength of the Sydney sun (seems much stronger than the sun back home). Even though everybody wore water-resistant sunscreen, Laura, Elena, Katrina and I got sunburn in various spots. Elena’s is particular noticeable right under her eyes where her swim goggles must have rubbed off the sunscreen.

Overcast today, warm (mid 70s) and very humid. Went for a “bush walk” to George’s Head this morning, the site of a former Australian navy base. The trail went through a forest overgrown with ferns and all kinds of plants unknown to me. A riot of green wherever you looked.

The concept of “bush” in Australia is different from the stereotype Americans have. It’s not just the outback where the likes of Crocodile Dundee reign supreme, but rather a wooded area, in between shrub land and forest, with thin to thick woody shrubs and bushes, under a sparse canopy of trees (mostly eucalypts). In a more general sense, it can also refer to any natural, undeveloped area either in or around a city.

An interesting synonym of “bush” is “mulga”, after an Australian acacia tree of the same name. This usage was made popular by the famous Australian poem “Mulga Bill’s Bicycle” by A.B. “Banjo” Paterson:

'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that caught the cycling craze;
He turned away the good old horse that served him many days;
He dressed himself in cycling clothes, resplendent to be seen;
He hurried off to town and bought a shining new machine;
And as he wheeled it through the door, with air of lordly pride,
The grinning shop assistant said, `Excuse me, can you ride?'

`See, here, young man,' said Mulga Bill, `from Walgett to the sea,
From Conroy's Gap to Castlereagh, there's none can ride like me.
I'm good all round at everything, as everybody knows,
Although I'm not the one to talk -- I HATE a man that blows.
But riding is my special gift, my chiefest, sole delight;
Just ask a wild duck can it swim, a wild cat can it fight.
There's nothing clothed in hair or hide, or built of flesh or steel,
There's nothing walks or jumps, or runs, on axle, hoof, or wheel,
But what I'll sit, while hide will hold and girths and straps are tight:
I'll ride this here two-wheeled concern right straight away at sight.'

'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that sought his own abode,
That perched above the Dead Man's Creek, beside the mountain road.
He turned the cycle down the hill and mounted for the fray,
But ere he'd gone a dozen yards it bolted clean away.
It left the track, and through the trees, just like a silver streak,
It whistled down the awful slope, towards the Dead Man's Creek.

It shaved a stump by half an inch, it dodged a big white-box:
The very wallaroos in fright went scrambling up the rocks,
The wombats hiding in their caves dug deeper underground,
As Mulga Bill, as white as chalk, sat tight to every bound.
It struck a stone and gave a spring that cleared a fallen tree,
It raced beside a precipice as close as close could be;
And then as Mulga Bill let out one last despairing shriek
It made a leap of twenty feet into the Dead Man's Creek.

'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that slowly swam ashore:
He said, `I've had some narrer shaves and lively rides before;
I've rode a wild bull round a yard to win a five pound bet,
But this was the most awful ride that I've encountered yet.
I'll give that two-wheeled outlaw best; it's shaken all my nerve
To feel it whistle through the air and plunge and buck and swerve.
It's safe at rest in Dead Man's Creek, we'll leave it lying still;
A horse's back is good enough henceforth for Mulga Bill.'

We enjoyed spectacular views of the opening of Sydney Harbor and saw a large tanker exiting the harbor, and a cruise ship entering. Lots of sea planes flying overhead, probably with sightseers on board.

We heard quite a few kookaburras whose call sounds a little like loud, echoing human laughter. The kookaburra is the most iconic Australian bird, and much beloved.

The sky  was pretty gray, with rain clouds threatening to douse us, but I thoroughly enjoyed the cooler air at the Georges Head overlook. This is the view towards downtown Sydney.

Katrina, Heather, Lucy and Elena spent some time exploring the Georges Head Battery, one of three forts in the area that were built for the purpose of defending the outer harbor. Georges Head battery was built in 1871 after the removal of the British forces from Australia in 1870. Georges Head was armed with four 80 pounder rifled muzzle loading guns and two 68 pounder muzzle-loading guns. It took three months and 250 soldiers to roll the gun barrels all the way from North Sydney to the batteries.

Later in the afternoon, Katrina, Bill, Sophie, Laura and I went for a walk to Tunks Park and Middle Harbour. It was basically a continuation of the Flat Rock Gully walk we took on Monday.

 

Heard lots of kookaburras and Eastern whipbirds which produce a very distinctive whip-crack call. In one spot, the cicadas were so loud that I thought my head would explode—I’ve never experienced anything like it before. Australia has very large cicadas; the one I saw on a tree branch was at least 3 inches long. I tried to photograph it but it didn’t like me getting close.

Also saw lots of angophoras (Sydney red gum), which is fast becoming my favorite tree around here. I love the coloration of the trunk, which is often completely devoid of bark. The bark, usually piled at the foot of the tree, is even redder.