The following morning, my legs had finally had enough – I was limping like a 80 year old Polish woman with a prosthetic leg. Yet I wouldn’t – couldn’t – let this stop the grand plans I had for my second day of this short trip.
My 30 minutes research had prompted me with an interesting opportunity for breakfast: Bills. It seemed to be quite famous in Sydney, and not very far from the shitty dump site they call a hostel I was staying in. The walk was quite nice, the weather being sunny and the street having quite some nice architecture – if I ignored the constant stings from my legs, trying to prompt me to just sit down on the street and lament the existence of nerves in my lower body.
I must say, the dessert looked quite amazing in the pictures that I saw – Ricotta Pancakes with Bananans and Buttermilk (about 19$ I think). And so they were! Soft, warm, fluffy, then showered in a golden shower of honey and buttermilk. Sprinkled with fairy dust like sugar. It was a great way to start the day – and one I certainly invite others to try. I accompanied this fluff-like-piece-of-heavenly-cloud with an Elderflower Cordial (7$) which was also quite refreshing.
The place is tucked away in Darlington, the space is very open and filled with light. It does really feel very breakfasty – together with it’s assortment of cakes and cookies in jars, it’s very homey. Very posh homey. With clients that did indeed seem to be from the more rich blanket of society.
With my belly full of hotcakes, I felt much more ready to confront the great adventure in front of me despite the moaning of my legs. So I set off for the beach (Bondi one, to be specific). A hop on a train and a hop on a bus later, I was staring the eternal sea within it’s depths. Sun blazing, people lost their suits and high end fashion clothing for something more skimpy.
It was a beach like any other beach. No golden haired gods awaiting for me, yet certainly there were more surfing going around than on other beaches in other parts of Europe. Filling the sands like ants when you kick their nest, I had decided that people manage to ruin many a times places which would probably look great without them.
Row little men, row! Trying to escape these beaches for something more quaint, I am certain! There were even people shouting “cold drinks! GET YOUR COLD DRINK!” around, which very much reminded me of the post-communist beaches of my own homeland, which in this moment isn’t really a compliment of any sorts. Sure, I was given tips no where to go for a more lonesome experience – but I just couldn’t be bothered that much.
I did find this pool to be quite cool actually – the Icebergs. It would have been even greater if the waves would have been higher, yet it seemed as if the sea was quite in a sulking mood that day and not willing to splash around too much.
Declothing myself, I noticed how very very white I am. Feta cheese white. Now I am red. Not quite sure it’s an improvement much, but I did decide to enjoy some time in the sun – even tho all the ads in this country are telling you “a tan is not healthy”. Couldn’t really go in the water as I was all by myself and I wasn’t comfortable leaving my bag with my camera, wallet and phone all by themselves on the beach. Traveling alone has it’s downfalls. The water was also very cold anyway.
I had had enough of the sea after an hour – and, well, I felt like it was high time to go back to the city and eat something, as well as get ready for the show I was going to see at the Opera House later that day. Because, well, I hadn’t researched all that many places and also because I wanted something cheaper, I decided to go to Una’s (which was suggested by Daniel).
With it’s European look and a big gay flag stuck on the ceiling, it seemed like a good place to just stop and rest. And it had a plug so I could recharge my phone (which is constantly on the brink of death by battery).
It turned out to not a not so cheap place (about 20$ for a menu), and, well, whilst the portion was big and tasty, I just couldn’t stop comparing it to my mothers Schnitzel – which is just so much more better. The staff was very friendly tho, and the place seemed eerily empty at that time of the day which is something I always like. More space for me!
I ended up going back to the hostel for some rest – and obviously a failed powernap which luckily wasn’t very failed so I managed to get to the Opera House in time. Also walked. Such a healthy person I am. The show I was going to see was La Soiree – a circus show – and I had paid quite some money to have the best seats and was being doubtful whether it was the right decision (I had never seen them). It definitely was. Now, I couldn’t take any pictures and I’m not going to try to write what happened. I will say tho that they are quite different from Cirque du Soleil – in that it is more intimate, you can literally sit next to the group. It’s much less about amazing acrobatics and stunts and involves a lot of interaction with the public as well as talking. It was an extremely funny show. And filled with semi-naked acrobats. Mmmmm.
This is part of a three days series of me mucking about in Sydney: