22 March, 2011 - Lane Cove National Park, Sydney, NSW

What a difference a little sunshine makes! We set off this morning with a positive expectation of a good day, even if still armed with umbrellas and coats. There was some problem with the power on the rail this morning so we had to alight at Chatswood and catch the city bound train on a different line. We ended our train journey at the Town Hall and walked back toward the Art Gallery, to complete unfinished business.

St Mary's Cathedral

We could not walk past the St Mary’s Cathedral without calling in. This was designed by William Wardell in a soaring gothic revival style that recalls the cathedrals of medieval Europe. The construction began in 1868, but was not finished until 1928. The spires on the southern twin towers were added to the cathedral in 2000 by helicopter. It is indeed a formidable building; high ceilings and housing many alters, both on the sides and behind the main alter which, dare I say it, reminded me of St Peters in Rome. The paintings with their heavy frames depicting the twelve Stations of the Cross aide the almost overbearing sombreness and gothic ambience. Somehow one could not ever imagine a congregation singing “All things bright and beautiful’, clapping and delighting in their faith. To worship in such a place is surely to feel the weight of one’s burdens rather than any uplifting  There were many tourists inside, along with those seeking miracle or answer to their prayers. There were also a surprising number of school children there; a group from a visiting convent school and others who appeared to be more touristic rather than dutiful.

Beneath the nave is the crypt, apparently featuring a stunning terrazzo mosaic floor. We were too mean to pay the entry fee  to see that for ourselves or to visit the tombs of five Arch Bishops and several priests housed in that crypt.

Another view of this ostentatious cathedral

From there we proceeded to the Domain and ate our lunch on the same lawn we had lunched the day before. The same birds were waiting for us, but the fitness freaks were a different lot, although equally entertaining.

At the gallery, we resumed our tour, this time of the three lower floors. We were both surprised and delighted to discover yet more exhibitions of Chinese treasures; pottery, bronze, drawings, calligraphy, weaving and much more, spanning seven thousand years of civilisation, all well laid out and well explained.

The modern works seen today were not unlike that found at the Museum of Contemporary Art visited last week, galleries of pretentious rubbish (in our opinions).

The final exhibition was that of aboriginal artists, some traditional and some in a more modern style. We found most of this either interesting or enjoyable. I was delighted with a rather bizarre work; a Hills clothes line, on which fruit bats fashioned from fibre glass, arrayed in cloaks patterned with traditional abo art, hung upside down as they do; twenty eight on each of the four sides.

We emerged to find the weather had improved beyond our expectation; not a sign of rain and the harbour glistened below us. “Manley”, we announced to each other and set off to Circular Quay, to catch the ferry across the harbour, a half hour fast ride.

Flying foxes hanging like pears in the Botanic Gardens

 
En route across the Royal Botanic Gardens, we passed by trees laden with flying foxes, real ones rather than those of fibre glass. The ranger here at the park had told us to look out for the colony should we visit the Botanic Gardens, and we had both forgotten and certainly had not imagined to encounter such a huge number of them. Their chatter is just amazing, happy and unconcerned with the city life that is carrying on about them. I think they are great. The noise took me right back to Vanuatu when I had a tree-ful outside my bedroom window before Kit was born.

It was downhill from the gardens to the Quay and all aboard. What a beautiful harbour Sydney has, and on such a day! We were swept along by our fellow passengers once on shore at Manley, all heading across the isthmus to the ocean shore. Manley centre is a delightful place, geared especially for the tourists who flock there to enjoy the surf and sun.

 

We indulged ourselves with icecream as one must on such an afternoon at the beach, called at the post office to post some mail, and then drifted back to the wharf to catch the return ferry. The journey back was just as spectacular.

The Opera House from the Manley ferry

It was just before five when we reached Circular Quay, and right on five when we reached the train station at Wynyard, along with half a million city workers, all pressing to catch the train too. Those that came in and went, but not for our stops, were full to the brim, as was the Hornby via Macquarie train which stops at North Ryde.

We had planned to drive out this afternoon on our return to the supermarket, but decided on reaching camp to make do with baked beans, bacon and eggs. Manana le manana: tomorrow morning will do instead.