The first time I ever went to Sydney I found it scary, overwhelming, confronting. I was 17 and I was on a family road trip with a friend (ask me sometime about vomit and the canberra science centre). We stayed in Oxford street near Hyde Park. In all my sweet, innocent Brisbaneness, I couldn't get my head around people begging, the sirens and just how big the place was. At that stage, lattes still hadn't made it to Brisbane and drinking moccona coffee was the height of cool. Well, times have changed and I love Sydney. I've been there a stack of times now. Sometimes I'm there to do touristy, conferency type things and sometimes I'm there to hang with my sister. I reckon that wherever someone you love is, you can't help but also love the place. Of course, I'm a little bit older now and beggars, drug addicts, and a little bit of rawness don't particularly phase me (hello 10 years in public health). It's the same with places like Gympie. Never really knew the place and I must admit I happily engaged in some 'Gympie is for gun toters' kind of joking, but now, I've got family there and it really does have some of the most lovely little pockets you could ever hope to find. Coming up, a few more posts about my weekend in Sydney and few photos of delight.
15 more sleeps until adventures abroad.
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