Bats, boats and bangs

What a welcome to Sydney. It’s always nice to know your arrival is acknowledged and Sydney pulled out all the stops. Forget the gorgeous heat and unbroken sunshine, forget the easy transition through customs and immigration where only the kids got questioned about what we were carrying (good ploy!) and we were waved through all the short lines by virtue of being a family … it was the mass celebrations we most appreciated.

The day we arrived they laid on a spectacular firework display over Sydney Harbour. We felt perhaps we should stay up to acknowledge such a welcome, even though it meant the kids were awake at midnight according to their NZ body clocks. So, we checked into our unrivalled YHA with spotless, air-conditioned adjoining rooms, a pool and sauna plus friendly, welcoming staff. Then we headed straight out down George Street, through the QVB – which Pierre Cardin quite rightly described as the most beautiful shopping centre in the world – to the Botanic Gardens. Every major city needs its oasis: Hyde Park for the Londoners, Central Park for New York. The Botanic Gardens of Sydney are right up there amongst the best. The Gardens are very cool and laidback, with signs that read “Please walk on the grass. Please also sniff the roses, and hug the trees.” Rhys interpreted this very literally, sniffing every rose, pronouncing different smells like banana and water, amongst others. We walked barefoot across the lawns and hugged the trees. As we caught our first glimpse of the Opera House, two army helicopters passed, flying very low. Huge flocks rose from the trees with a huge amount of squeaking, though not much squawking. “Look at the birds!” Joe exclaimed, but something about those segmented wings made me say “I don’t think those are birds …” sure enough, they were bats – and thousands of them. These were not your little pipstrels, they were massive fruit bats; with wings outstretched, some were bigger than Jenna. Over and over again they settled like rags hanging from the trees, only to be stirred into a mass of black leather swarming the sky by the next helicopter. Not since Sri Lanka have we seen anything like this: bats active in the day, and very visible and audible, too. The kids were not at all spooked, instead they ran around yelling and asking the bats to come closer. Rowan was rewarded by a deposit of bat guano on her (actually my) hat, which she told us was very, very lucky.

We very slowly wended our way down to the sea, really pleased to see that Sydney’s Harbour Bridge and Opera House are just as impressive in reality as you would think. Around 5pm we reached Mrs Macquaries chair, right at the tip of Woolloomooloo (kid you not) harbour. Almost completely filling said harbour was a small floating city, blocking out many buildings and a fair amount of sky: it was the Queen Mary II. Now, she had been in harbour in Auckland when we were there for the final couple of nights in New Zealand, preparing to leave for Australia. We had heard and seen the glow of fireworks in the distance one night, but only found out the next day that it was all for the benefit of this extremely large cruise ship. We had been a little disappointed not to see her, or the fireworks, but here she was in Sydney, right on cue. Of course, we do hope she stops stealing our itinerary at some point!

The scale of this ship is almost beyond belief. If you’re interested, we’re told you can get a rather nice two storey cabin for the 81 day cruise for a mere £150,000.

We sat over the sea at Mrs Macquaries point and settled down for a wait, because we had heard through the grapevine that in a couple of hours the QE2 was also due into berth, and that it was a pretty historic moment to have both these Cunard flagships in port at the same time. OK, so that’s what all the fuss was REALLY for, but hey! We thought it might be a little stupid to arrive so early, but there were already hundreds of people making themselves at home on the grass, with picnic blankets and bottles of wine. We settled for cold hot dogs and pop.