bright lights, big city

“Once there was this little child
You know her I believe
Here’s who she is me ELOISE
And it is Christmas Eve.”

With the Blue Mountains still on fire, I spent an extra day in Tasmania and flew to Sydney on Christmas day. I considered extending my AirBnB in the hippest part of town until I found a great price for a venerable old hotel near the Opera House.

The Sir Stamford is everything the name implies: regal and old school, with service to match. My enormous room looks out on the royal botanical garden. They have 24-hour room service, including dim sum, and afternoon tea you can order for a picnic.

I feel distinctly like Eloise at the Plaza.

When I climbed up the hill from Circular Quay dragging bags full of Tasmanian salmon and sauvignon blanc, the hotel was in the middle of a lavish holiday brunch ($199, more than I paid for a night with breakfast). I passed and wandered out in search of an open restaurant, not an easy task on Christmas Day.

In addition to a small pool and sauna (conveniently down the hall from my room), the hotel also has a private art collection.

This is my favorite so far, even though it's hidden by a staircase near the day spa. They even have my grandmother's china in a cabinet on my floor.

Ferries to Manly and Luna Park leave  from right outside the door.

Today on Boxing Day, there was a giant eyesore: the enormous Ovation of the Seas in port. This is the same cruise ship that was at White Island off New Zealand 2 weeks ago and lost passengers in the volcanic eruption. I didn't realize they'd continued their voyage, if you want to contemplate a terrible package tour with no escape.

Downtown Sydney is vaguely historic, especially The Rocks, which is all spruced up for the holidays. 

Boxing Day was once known for leftovers, but in Sydney it's known for 50% off sales. I don't have any more space in my luggage, so I walked around the botanic gardens instead. 

They are pretty fabulous.

There are stands being erected for Sydney's biggest night, New Year's Eve. This is the view of Harbour Bridge from the gardens:

Plus you're surrounded by blooming flowers and giant fig trees.

This elegant bird is the Australian white ibis. They're everywhere in the park.

There's a whole section dedicated to palm trees, at least 50 different kinds, from elephant foot palms to date pals to skinny walking stick palms. And a Fernery, which notes a whole class of ferns has been named for Lady Gaga.

My last stop was the tourist info center at the Customs House, another elegant old building that's been retrofitted inside. In past years of Sydney's biennial, this atrium has been filled with art by Ai Wei Wei and Yayoi Kusama. Right now, there's a glass floor looking over a scale model of Sydney. 

Back at the hotel, I noticed their mascot is everywhere. Morris, the wombat.

Apparently you can borrow a Morris and bring him to the opera or to your room. They sell them too. Two of my great-grandfathers were named Morris, so I'll take this as another sign. (Did I mention how much I love posh hotels, and pretending I live here? I'd be sad to leave and return to ordinary life, except I'm excited about my next stop too.)

Take a deep breath. The year is almost over. We're just a little older, a little worse for wear.

What were you hoping for in 2019? What will you leave behind next week?

they call the isle Maria

Maria Island is off the east coast of Tasmania. Today it's a national park, but in the past, it was a holding station for prisoners.

You head over on a high-speed ferry, making me think of Catalina. But Maria Island is closer to Angel Island, down to the overnight camping and city lights that are visible at night.

 

The mountains in the distance are Freycinet National Park on the mainland. I'll be going there tomorrow.

That's not a rock or a guinea pig. It's a wombat!

I headed up the hill.

And found a much cuter wombat, with an itchy ear. It was rubbing its head and tail against the branches.

You can see the facial resemblance to koalas. Wombats are BIG: this one probably weighed 20 pounds, though I didn't pick it up.

Did I mention the white sand beaches?

Maybe I'd made a mistake not spending the night. The last ferry leaves at 5. But the housing is in dorms inside the old prison colony. I'll stick to comfort.

It was high tide, so the painted cliffs were mostly below the turquoise sea. 

I'd brought a mask and snorkel borrowed from Carolyn, but the weather's been too cool to consider. Maybe by the time I get to Manly.

Unbeatable view. And I had it all to myself.

Afterward, I headed back through the gum tree forest. And then raced to make the ferry.

Driving north up the east coast, I pulled over after a sign for Spiky Bridge. 

The sign didn't lie.

Now I'm in Bicheno, a tiny town with a blowhole and penguins just a few feet from my studio! 

It's finally low tide, so I scrambled over the rocks. Too early for penguins though.

The sunset seemed to go on and on. I learned that seasons in Australia start on the 1st of the month--so it's been summer for weeks. 

Tomorrow: more fresh seafood (local sea urchin, oysters, and abalone) and sunset kayaking. Might have to squeeze in a winery or two.