—§—

A few hundred meters south of the Chinese Garden of Friendship lie the Royal Botanic Gardens, an incredible stretch of exotic plants set in a number of artificial habitats, including a rain forest. Some specimens are positively startling, like this Queensland Bottle Tree.

Mysteriously exotic inflorescences fascinated us. The plant on the left looks like some kind of agave—but probably isn’t. Laura calls the blossom on the right a chicken flower, because of its yellow beak.

Hundreds of noisy cockatoos inhabit the Royal Botanic Gardens. They seem to be native to Australia, so many of them live throughout Sydney.

This little grass-munching guy brings memories of my lost parrot, Chiapas. I usually become nostalgic whenever I catch sight of one of the psittacines (parrot-like birds). The gardens are home to a huge colony of grey-headed flying foxes. A friend told me about them so I went looking. A helpful ranger told me where they were, yet I didn’t see them until I looked up—and suddenly they were there. There must have been a thousand of them.

A type of fruit bat, they are the largest bats in the world. They have three-foot wing spans and can weigh a couple of pounds. Unusual plants, abundant wildlife—always wonderful to encounter anywhere you find it.

But this isn’t some national park. Smack in the middle of a major city, it is mere steps away from the Opera House, the Sydney Harbour Bridge, the high rises of the business center. I am amazed.
Parks and gardens can make a great city greater, and Sydney has lots of good ones. We visited two. One, just off Darling Harbour, is the Chinese Garden of Friendship. Designed by Sydney’s sister city, Guangzhou, it underscores the close connection between China and Australia.

Many, many Chinese people live in Sydney.

Except for the unmistakably Chinese buildings, I would have thought this garden was Japanese. On entering I came upon a display of bonsai. A plaque announced that the art of growing miniature trees had been invented in China and adopted later in Japan.

I considered the probable truth of this claim. In fact, Japan drew many arts from China. A couple of years ago, I reported in these posts about how Japanese bamboo basket-making had been imported from China. So on reflection, I shouldn’t have been surprised that these small, exquisite gardens originated there too.

A nice touch: The Chinese Garden of Friendship offers traditional costumes to wear while touring. A young father photographs his daughter, dressed like a Ming Dynasty noble.

An important focal point is the Dragon Wall, the dragons symbolizing the two sister cities separated by the sea.

Animal life fills the garden. Koi teem in the waterways that snake through the plantings.

An Ibis flaps its wings preparatory to flight. These birds are common in Sydney’s parks and gardens.

I was poking my camera through a clump of azaleas when an Aussie voice behind me said “Lizard?” I responded, “Uh...No. I’m photographing my friend, Laura.” He said, “Oh. I thought you’d found a lizard.” I continued on my way, thinking that he was a very strange person. Then I came upon this iguana.

We stopped for tea and scones at the Chinese Tea House. As soon as we were served, some small birds lined themselves up on a railing next to our table, in an obvious bid for a handout.

Rich, buttery scones—I’m going to have a hard time keeping my weight down on this trip. I didn’t give any of mine to the birds. Humpf. Little panhandlers.

—§—

A few hundred meters south of the Chinese Garden of Friendship lie the Royal Botanic Gardens, an incredible stretch of exotic plants set in a number of artificial habitats, including a rain forest. Some specimens are positively startling, like this Queensland Bottle Tree.

Mysteriously exotic inflorescences fascinated us. The plant on the left looks like some kind of agave—but probably isn’t. Laura calls the blossom on the right a chicken flower, because of its yellow beak.

Hundreds of noisy cockatoos inhabit the Royal Botanic Gardens. They seem to be native to Australia, so many of them live throughout Sydney.

This little grass-munching guy brings memories of my lost parrot, Chiapas. I usually become nostalgic whenever I catch sight of one of the psittacines (parrot-like birds). The gardens are home to a huge colony of grey-headed flying foxes. A friend told me about them so I went looking. A helpful ranger told me where they were, yet I didn’t see them until I looked up—and suddenly they were there. There must have been a thousand of them.

A type of fruit bat, they are the largest bats in the world. They have three-foot wing spans and can weigh a couple of pounds. Unusual plants, abundant wildlife—always wonderful to encounter anywhere you find it.

But this isn’t some national park. Smack in the middle of a major city, it is mere steps away from the Opera House, the Sydney Harbour Bridge, the high rises of the business center. I am amazed.