Sydney's Gardens
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.
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.
G'day, Mate
The bridge connected North Sydney with the city center, a trip that previously could only be made by ferry. It cost so much to build that 60 years were needed to repay the investment.
Maybe I could never own the stamp, but yesterday, I took this photograph of the actual bridge itself—a dream come true.
We are spending the next two months touring Australia. We’ll remain a few days in Sydney, then rent a car and drive up the east coast along all those beautiful (and shark-infested) beaches, perhaps as far as Cairns in the tropical north. Two months is a long time to be away from San Miguel de Allende, but even at that, we’ll barely scratch the surface of Australia. It’s an entire continent, after all. In order to afford a trip of this length, we won’t be staying at the Four Seasons. Or even the Holiday Inn Express. Our hotel in Sydney is the Alishan International Guest House. It costs a quarter of what nice hotels charge. And, of course, it offers a quarter of the amenities: We get fresh towels once a week and we make our own bed.
But we get a communal kitchen so we can save time and money on breakfast. And we get a location in a wonderfully funky neighborhood near to all the famous sights. Sydney reverberates with strong echoes of the British Empire. Looking like an English manor, Government House exemplifies imperial architecture. It says, “We British are here to stay.”
Australia’s principal educational institution, the University of Sydney, is located a few blocks from our hotel. Unaware of its presence, we stumbled across it on an evening walk.
Victorian city design traveled to Sydney from England’s factory towns. These row houses could have been built in Manchester, except for the adoption of balconies made possible by benign climate.
We’re in one of the world’s most multicultural cities. On our street, we have a choice of Lebanese, Korean, Thai, Japanese, Chinese, and Mexican (!) food. We frequently hear people speaking Mandarin.
In contrast with the cozy neighborhoods, the city center is smart, sophisticated and modern. Brilliant skyscraper designs leap up beside stolid nineteenth-century piles of granite.
One of the world’s most recognizable buildings is the Sydney Opera House. Its multiple roofs resemble the triangular sails of the pleasure boats that fill the harbor on weekends.
I didn’t want a guided tour the Opera House; I wanted to use it. So we attended a concert given by the Sydney Symphony Orchestra—Beethoven, Haydn and Bartok—and got a close-up look at this wonderful space. Multiple halls, restaurants and bars, promenades offering breathtaking nighttime city views, make it one of the greatest places to hear music (even if the acoustics are not up to par). Lucky Sydneysiders live in a most beautiful city. Most of its five million residents live within walking distance of water. They have access to many, many cultural and recreational options. Sydney may be the most remote city in the world, but there’s no sense of isolation. Everything one would ever need is here.