Sydney has been a blur of activity. We arrived early on a Thursday morning, dropped our bags at the hotel, then walked to Circular Quay, strolled The Rocks, and toured the Opera House. The entire day reminded me of why Sydney is one of my favorite cities on Earth. I love this town.
One disappointment: one of the things you *have* to do in Sydney is go up to the top of the AMP Tower, and, like we did six years ago, we booked dinner in the revolving restaurant at the top. Even back then, the price you paid for dinner was mostly for the view, because the food was merely adequate. But now, with table service discontinued, no beverage refills, no wait staff, no table cloths, a greatly reduced menu, and aggressively bad food (roast beef, for example, that tastes like gamey venison), well, someone should put an end to this embarrassment and shut the place down.
We spent yesterday on a trip out to the Blue Mountains, where we spent (not enough) time in small shops and had a memorable trip to a small wildlife park. Everyone enjoyed feeding kangaroos grassy feed from ice cream cones … but Jeri was disappointed that the koala bear she’d looked forward to petting looked, well, so *evil* when she got close to him. (They definitely look cuter from a distance. Up close, their red-slitted pupils and broad faces make them look like a cross between Winston Churchill and Aleister Crowley.)
After a harbor cruise, we had a good dinner at Neptune’s, a seafood-themed Chinese restaurant where, while still expensive, the food was just adequate. The staff kept bringing us other people’s dishes, apologizing, and then laughing at our soulful, hungry expressions.
Which brings me to my final point about Sydney dining: while I love, love, love the tipless society here (it’s rooted in a belief that all people are equals, and reflected in the fact that the minimum wage is about twice what ours is in the States), I do miss the attentive level of service that seems, more often than not, to be the standard in the States.
In place after place, the slightest pause (to consider the menu, to debate a drink choice) sends the staff into a frenzy of impatience; more often than not, the waiter will just walk off if his questions aren’t answered immediately. (He’ll come back, glare at you, and say, “Ready now?”) After the food’s in place, any further interaction with the staff involves flagging someone down … even when you’re just asking for the bill.
I’m not complaining — just noting differences. It’s a good thing, though, that tipping isn’t part of the culture here … because I haven’t yet come across a level of service anywhere that warrants it.
Today: off to Darling Harbour, the Rocks Market, Chinatown, and the Botanical Gardens. One last day in Sydney … and then we’re back on the plane for the grueling fifteen-hour flight back to LA. (A good reason to live in the moment, there — you can’t enjoy your day if you’re thinking about the flight to come!)
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