Circular breathing

It's a little annoying to have been almost bed-ridden to an ear infection. But that's what fate had in store for my Sydney visit. It did, however, shine an altogether different light on aspects of Australia that I would otherwise have not seen.

Take their medical care (“Medicare”, obviously), which while expensive is far superior to the usual NHS queues of tomb-dodging fuddies that have nothing else better to do with their time but complain of a niggling pain in their beyond sell-by-date hip replacement. That the state paid for. Fair enough, so I paid for it and at $65 a consultation and almost a hundred for the required drugs, it's hardly frugal. But who puts a price on their health; that's why pharmaceuticals are so rich, hey. Anyway, treatment kicked off in record time and quick painless and efficient ABC (that's Australian Born Chinese), stating "crikey mate" at the state of my infection and I'm off to visit the three sisters.


Named so because of an old Aboriginal tale, the scenery whilst impressive is slightly reminiscent of the Grand Canyon and also to a degree; Zhangjiajie. Numerous cables stretch across chasms and offer a view if you're so inclined, though it's more a place for hikers and cheesy-picture takers. The quaint town next to it has built upon a steady - but ebbing - flow of tourists to the area, who reluctantly cough up $2 an hour for parking and around 20 for lunch.



Moving on then and back to rest up some more in desperate hope of hearing the performance at the Opera House in Stereo (rather than forced Mono), and an evening of jazz awaits. Head to the harbour before sunset and sit down with a cuppa to absorb it all. 'Tis truly beautiful; clean, well maintained and designed (save for a few modern monstrosities thrown up in accommodation-profiteering fashion), and populated by a true pic’n’mix of humans. To my left a tone-deaf Saxophonist does his best to ensure Adolf is turning in his grave, whilst a little further away on my right there's a pot-bellied Aboriginal circular breathing his "didg’" to trance music. Fast-walking and suited men and women head briskly for the departing ferry, carrying shopping and a coffee, and packs of youths stroll around or simply lean on the railings staring out at the sea and laugh to one another. It's relaxing for a big city and at the same time full of business and trade. I'm reminded a little of the South Bank, with one clear difference - there's far more space here. Combine all the above with names chosen nodding subtly at their origins (Hyde Park for example), and it's London mark 2. Much like Singapore is how Hong Kong should have been; this place is London - just done properly. Certainly, it hasn't the history and didn't endure the growing pains that the small port of Londinium did over thousands of years. Still, eat your heart out London, Sydney's got ya trumped.



One thing that did taint my experience slightly is the awful improvisation that the Aussie pianist attempted of Gershwin's masterpiece Rhapsody in Blue; though it's amazing how such a short time spent triangulating through Australia can wipe away the foul taste, left after from the majority of Aussies I've met travelling. Here is indeed culture (moreso than the Kiwis - though arguably due to a larger population and more funds), and whilst it is agonisingly expensive; it is relaxed and somewhat charming. The clichés of crass and sullen Aussies are indeed that; travel to enough places for long enough and you'll quickly realise one thing about people - we're all the same. You get idiots in every country, thieves, scammers and all the rest; so generalising becomes almost impossible and at some point the bulb above your head will light as you realise that you can't define a person because of "where they're from".



A couple of evenings out on the town and it's a different scene to London; drinking is indeed as part of this culture as any UK-influenced nation (sadly that's too many), though the atmosphere the teenagers generate isn't hostile. It's just a bit of fun - so perhaps my interpretation of the bikini-clad morons back in Vang Vieng, Laos was a little off. Perhaps.

Pilled up, ear-dropped up and still with an overruling tinnitus from my right ear, a sudden pop causes instant relief. It's not completely clear yet, but I can fly without pain during the descent. Perfect timing, the flight to San Francisco is tomorrow.