Joy of being a tourist in your own city
Adelaide born Janie Lalor, 64, worked in production at the ABC for 40 years and enjoys travelling, meeting new people who inspire and are enthusiastic. Her article explores the joys of being a tourist in the city she lives in.
Everywhere I go I get on a big red bus. I’m a tourist. I’m excited. I’m discovering a city. Every time I climb those stairs, no matter what the weather, I’m on top of the world. The other day I felt that excitement again. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and the sky was blue. I had to wait 20 minutes but I didn't care because I was about to see a beautiful city and learn a thing or two along the way.
Which city? Sydney. The city I have lived in for nearly 40 years. A city where I have helped tourists find their way as they stand twisting a map.
I live in the centre of the city and have done so since Annie Hall lived in the heart of New York. So Sydney is mine. The streets are mine and the harbour is my playground. It has changed so much since I arrived in 1988. I have watched it change from the largest Australian capital city to an International city with all the good and bad points. Price rises, high rises and the sadness of the great number of homeless crouching in doorways or under an old blanket.
As we left Park Street I was reminded about our English heritage as we drove along Sussex Street, Kent Street, Liverpool Street, Bathurst Street and Elizabeth Street. As we headed down William Street I learnt the first of many facts I didn't know.
Hyde Park was built as a race track. The first race meeting was so successful it lasted three days. I reflected on looking after a friend’s dog and taking it for walks around this park. He obviously knew more than I did as he took off chasing birds and other dogs.
At Museum Station four Americans boarded. Pam from California sat next to me and laughed out loud when I told her what I was doing. She had a wonderful laugh that just about shook the bus. And no, she has never done this in her hometown of San Diego. She asked me where to get off for lunch and asked me if “Bondee” was a good place. I smiled and explained that we call it Bondeye and we laughed about the fact we all speak the same language but still have problems with local names.
At Kings Cross I learnt it was first called Queens Cross and that there are 1800 fluorescent lights in the Coca-Cola sign. Pam and her group got off at Bondi on a picture-postcard day. The green grass slopes winding down to the yellow sands and then the lapis blue sea. Nippers being taught on the beach and the waves crowded with surfers. After having learnt that Bondi means water breaking over rocks, they were not going to be disappointed and they promised they would walk to Bronte.
Next we learn that Charles Kingsford Smith was the first child to be saved by lifesavers on January 2, 1907 and that Bondi is the oldest life saving club in the world, having been established in 1907.
When you leave the beach you wind your way up the hills to Dover Heights where there are the most majestic views of the city skyline and the Harbour Bridge. Our faceless guide tells us it was called the Iron Lung because it employed so many people during its 11 years of building between 1923 and 1932. Sixteen people died during the construction and we are reminded that Crocodile Dundee had been a painter on it. Many on the tour laughed and knew who Paul Hogan was as they suggested putting a shrimp on the barbie in between their cameras clicking.
It was a great drive home through the elegance of the bays: Rose and Double and then Rushcutters, which is named because there used to be rushes here which were chopped for the roofs of houses.
Next up was Central where there was a riot in 1916 which was dubbed ‘The Battle of Central Station’ and to this day there is a bullet hole on Platform 1. Past Paddy’s Markets which have been there since 1834 and then The Town Hall which was built on an old burial ground. No one is certain if everyone was moved to a new resting ground. I guess there are more than a few in City Hall who know where the bodies are buried.
It was a truly a lovely couple of hours and now I have decided to explore my city more.
There is so much to see, to learn and to enjoy.
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