Benemma

BEN SQUINTING TOWARDS MANLY WITH SYDNEY BEHIND HIM

On approach from our budget airliner, Sydney was hidden behind a layer of low cloud. When we ducked under it at last we were just above the rooftops. A matrix of neat little box houses slid under us like a toy town on a conveyor belt. We never saw much of central Sydney on our previous visit, we were always passing through to be with friends nearby, such is the allure of slow-forged companionship. This was the case again now, as we went straight from plane to train to visit our old family friends Peggy and John once more.

We felt a slight sense of unease looking out the window of our double-decker train (brilliant inventions!) through the long chain of suburban towns between Sydney CBD and Penrith. They all looked liveable – spacious, modern and well appointed with amenities – but almost every one seemed to centre around a shopping mall owned by one of only a couple of monopolising brands, primarily Westfield. Shopping centres are useful but what’s wrong with a town square and some locally-owned shops?

We were treated to a few beers and a delicious Chinese at the local club. They have this obsession for club membership in Oz that we can’t fathom. We signed a temporary membership form for practically every pint. What’s more, few bars exist unaccompanied by gambling facilities under the same roof. Imagine if every British pub had a Ladbrokes Lounge. But more of that later. We got happily sauced and revelled in the easy conversation in which John and Peggy are so well versed.

The next day we woke to a feature of Australia the impact of which we had almost forgotten: the birds. Of this whole trip — India, Nepal, Singapore, Australia, New Zealand — the Aussies crap on the rest when it comes to avian superiority. Dozing in John and Peggy’s spare bed that morning I started a new habit of describing the birdsong in my notebook. Novelty mobile phone rings; snoring giants; bells rung underwater; girls shrieking; rats being tortured; a whoopee cushion being stamped on… Oh but more of that later, too.

Over to Steve and Cat’s place now, all the way back through town and across the harbour to Manly. We drank at the local skiff club as the sun went down on the water, then relaxed at the flat in each other’s company. At some point every night the avian cacophony finally stops and there is, no, not silence, just a stand-in orchestra of frogs and cicadas. Then the birdsong returns with the morning sun, waking us just as it did that next morning, with an impression of an octopus stuffing squeaky toys into a letterbox.

Our friends took us on a tour of the Northern Beaches, which have such pleasant names: Long Reef, Freshwater, Curl Curl, Dee Why. We watched paragliders sharing the Cliffside thermals with a falcon at Long Reef. I took Emma for a play in the surf at Curl Curl and things got hairy for a few minutes when a rip current caught us and held us out of our depth for a while. We swam the wrong way a couple of times but soon got around it.

PARAGLIDERS OVER THE NORTHERN BEACHES (SORRY ABOUT THE DUST)

My oldest friend, Jamie, joined us at Curl Curl from cavorting in the city the night before. We ventured further up to the rich suburb of Pittwater and the beach where Home & Away is filmed, like we care. The fancy houses up there are mostly quite ugly and utilitarian in exterior design but they are spacious and have a lot of glass and deck space so may be great from the inside. I doubt the owners care too much. You see, coastal Australian living is oriented towards being out of the house. It’s clear that Aussies spend loads on toys they can use in the open air, such as power kites, snorkels and golf clubs.

EMMA AT SUMMER BAY (HOME & AWAY) SURF CLUB

We went to a house party that night. The theme was “Australia Day” but nobody told us. Doesn’t matter, we got royally drunk on wine and rum. We later staggered into a bar and then some awful underground club with a few local friends. Maybe it wasn’t awful, who knows? I just decided it was unbearably cheesy, stopped dancing and stood motionless in the crowd. The bouncers threw me out for that, bless ‘em. Nobody minded though, it was a good time (and method) to leave.

And the next day we were gone from the place, quick as a flash.