Diary 15th - 23rd December 2000 & Images
from my time in Sydney, Australia.

F riday 15^th December
I took a taxi from the airport to my hotel, the Cambridge Park Inn, which was located in Riley Street about 80 m from Oxford Street the gay and somewhat bohemian area of the Town. Checked in and went to room 700 on the seventh floor.

I went out to get some shopping and an Internet service provider all of which took me a few hours. I had to buy 25 hours which cost me $27 plus two taxis which made a total of $44. The connection to my UK server was not functioning so I was unable to get my mail after all that.

At 2300 I went out to eat and found the streets to be as busy as London's West End at its busiest. I was surprised to see so many restaurants still open and so many people walking about. I'd been told that Sydney was a 24-hour city now but seeing is believing. Oxford Street is the main gay district of Sydney and while I was sitting at my table on the pavement I saw many boys walking past holding hands. There appears to be no stigma attacheded to such behaviour in this modern metropolis. The café was called Kink Kafé and the waiter, a chap named Chris, was most helpful in telling me what was likely to be happening at the different gay venues and how I could get to them.

I decided to return to my hotel and change my clothes before going out on the town. Wearing jeans and a short sleeved silk shirt I left at 0100. I had only walked about 20 yards up the street when I encountered an interesting looking guy coming toward me. We looked at each other and I winked to him. I walked a discreet ten yards further before turning back to see if he had made any response. At the same moment he turned his head and seeing that I was looking he slowed his pace. I stopped and watched him hoping he would look back again and was rewarded after a few seconds.

We entertained each other in my hotel room for the next 30 minutes. On leaving we parted and went our own ways. I wandered along the street in the warm night, stopped off for a beer here and there before returning to my hotel. I went to bed at 0300. I sneezed 21 times consecutively. I woke up with a terrible paid in my chest. I took a tablet for the dispepsia but it was the worst pain that I have had from it to date. I found it extremely difficult to get back to sleep. I woke several times throughout the night and tried a number of things like drinking water, rubbing my sternum, coughing, swallowing but nothing helped this agonising and burning sensation.

Naturally one wants to start with a photo of the world famous Sydney Opera House.	a paddleboat cruises passed the Sydney skyline	side by side the two most famous buildings on the continent
the modern dockyard busy shipping	in the fine weather sailboats are out	Elton John and other famous people buy houses along the waterfront
the cruise boat 'Barrowdale' passes by with sightseers on board	the buildings of the skyscape reflect the blue from the sky and the water	the 'Nokia' yacht practising for the Sydney to Hobart boat race
with water on its doorstep Sydney makes good use of water taxis and ferries	I went around the city on the monorail	inside it is similar to a bus or underground train with seating along the side,

Since I was completely knackered and my chest had been so sore that I was unable to eat anything other than a sausage roll all day I slept for a couple of hours waking up at 2000. I took a Zoton pill to ease burning chest, then spent the next 45 minutes sorting out my pictures as this medication must be taken one hour before eating a meal. I left the hotel at 2200 hoping to find some food that would not cause to much pain. I passed the Kink Kafé I had a chat with Chris and he suggested that I called in tomorrow afternoon as he has the evening free and we might go out somewhere.

I found an Indian restaurant and ate Larnb Pasanda, drank a half bottle of white wine all of which was very enjoyable and I was in very little pain. After dinner I went to find Bodylive which I was advised was in Flinders Street. However I walked length of the Street without finding it and had to make inquiries. I eventually found it and realised that it was down a side turning and not in main street. When I entered I found myself in a small foyer facing a man behind a glass window rather like that found in a bank. He asked if I had been there before and I replied "No this is my first time."
The man seem convinced saying "It's $20, we are open 24 hours over the weekend and there is no smoking anywhere in building. If you want a smoke you have to get dressed, go out to have your cigarette and then return. Okay?" he inquired.
"Thank you. That's fine." I offered him a $20 bill. He took money and gave me a friendly smile saying "through the door right, you'll find the locker rooms on this floor, upstairs is the cruising area then downstairs you'll find the sauna, steam room and jaccoosi. Enjoy yourself." He then pressed a button to allow me to open the door.

In the locker room there were other men some getting dressed and some had almost completed their undressing. I took my clothes off and placed them in my locker, put my towel around my waist and went downstairs. First I went to take a shower before visiting the steam room. When I entered it was quite busy with men sitting around on the tiered tiled seating. Unusually for such a place there was a row of seating down the centre of the room so one could walk along one side and back on the other. I adjusted my eyes to the dim lighting and peered through the steam in order to find an empty space.

After 15 minutes I was sweating profusely and felt that I had had enough and went next door to the sauna. This smaller room was completely empty and I lay down to absorb the dry heat and take the benefit of this treatment. I then spent a short while in the jaccoosi before going upstairs to investigate the cruising area.

On reaching the top of the stairs I found myself in a large room in which cubicles had been built along both sides, each one being just a little larger than a double bed. Some of the cubicles were occupied with the doors shut, others were in use but the door remained open while some were empty. There were several men wandering around dressed only in the white towels they had been issued with. Others just stood leaving against the wall surveying and cruising and waiting.

The last cubicle I came across had iron bars in place of a wall that would otherwise have contained a door. Suspended by chains from the ceiling was a leather sling. Anyone interested could position themselves and secure their hands and feet, in leather straps suspended midway up the chains. I didn't see this equipment being put to any use while I was there.

All was painted black and in the space that remained in the centre a maze had been built. When I wandered into the maze I found that some of the walls had had holes cut in them at about the hip height of an average man. In this way people could take advantage of anonymity and obtain their pleasure without knowing who was on the other side of the wall. Many of the positions in the maze were built as individual cubicles large enough to hold only one person.

The area was busy with people stopping here and there as they wandered about. Some of the cubicles had holes in more than one wall so one could look through to see what was happening on the other side. All of this was sexually exciting and highly titillating.

I returned to the steam room and the jaccoosi where I enjoyed lying in the bubbles and letting the warm water flow over my body. It was later in the jaccoosi that a young Oriental slipped in beside me. Soon his arm brushed against my thigh as he searched for something to hold on to.

He was the usual build, short slim with straight black hair, brown eyes and a little chubby around the jaws. I decided to explore his body as it lay in the warm water beside me. We lay in the water for a few minutes enjoying the currents as the bubbles of air caressed our bodies. At length he nodded his head in the direction of the stairway, leaned closer toward me and said "Let's go upstairs."
"Okay. That's a good idea. Lead on." I replied.
He was shorter than I had first thought and as he led on up the stairs I realised he must be only five foot two inches tall, not that I saw this as any great disadvantage, it just took my interest. We had to wander around a couple of times before we encountered a vacant cubicle. Some fifteen minutes later he raised his head and said "Don't worry. I'm fine." He slipped off the bed, picked up his towel and wrapping it around his lithe torso he slipped through the door and was gone into the night.

I and went to the jaccoosi to recover my energy while floating in the bubbling foaming surf. Shortly afterwards I went to the locker room and dressed. When I left Bodylive at 0330 Oxford Street was as busy as it had been at midnight and there were long queues of people waiting to get into the discos as soon as others would leave to make room for them. I returned to my hotel a deeply satisfied man.

I found some stamps and sent my brother's birthday card then back in Chinatown I sat down in an open fronted restaurant to look at the menu. I was no sooner seated than the waiter came over with a glass of tea, a napkin, spoon and chopsticks. I had a delicious lunch, Sweet and Sour beef with delicious white fluffy basmati rice.

A leisurely stroll up through Hyde Park allowed the food to digest. Here my attention was captivated by people lying there sunbathing while in the background the seasonal decorations and Christmas flags flying from the lamp poles seemed at odds with such action. Along Oxford Street I stopped at the Kink Kafé to see when Chris would be finished and where we might go in the evening.

The first time I'd met him was when he approached my table the other day and said "I'm sorry I don't have any Campari, is there something else you'd rather have instead?"
His wide friendly smile made me laugh as I said, "there isn't anything else like Campari so I guess I'll have a rum and coke please."

I sat at a table on the pavement and when he came over he was shaking his head as he said, "I think you'd better go to the bottle shop and buy yourself a bottle of Campari." He laughed. I smiled but made no reply. "On the other hand perhaps a bottle is too much for one drink." he continued "Good afternoon, what can I get for you?"
"Hi Chris, well in the absence of your ability to restock your bar to meet the requirements of your discerning customers I' d like to have a Vodka and dry Martini or dry Vermouth please."
"Yes I'm sure I can do that for you." He said and left.

Whilst Chris was fixing my drink a young man limped along the pavement and stopped to ask me if he could buy a cigarette. I respected this approach immediately as I was used to people begging rather than seeking to purchase. I gave him one then offered him a light. He seemed an interesting sort of character so I asked him where he was going.

He sat down and told me his story. It turned out that he his father has diabetes but continues as best he can to run a bakery which needs attention. My storyteller friend then told me that he had lost money gambling, needs $38,000 for a new leg as he was a dancer and he intends to dance again. He still has got most of the money saved. I asked him if he'd like to sit down as he'd been leaning on the table during this discourse.

Simon

Chris came with my drink and asked the guy if he wanted something and the stranger said "water please." I said I are you sure you don't want beer. He said, "No but I'd like an orange please. My name is Simon." he extending his right-hand across the table as he made himself comfortable.

He ended up by selling $100 worth of his product, Chris acting as the middleman knew some people who he was able to deal with. He gave me an acid tab by way of thank you for being his lucky mascot this afternoon. Simon left and I asked Chris about going out in the evening but he could not go out this evening as he was tired. "I'll definitely go out tomorrow night instead." He assured me. I left.

In the evening I went to the bar Midnight Shift at 2200. It was busy and cruisy and at 2300 Lee arrived with his Japanese flatmate. He came back to my hotel but unfortunately I was tired and fell asleep. In the morning there was a note on the coffee table saying he had gone but that I should call him.

In the evening I went to the courthouse hotel where I had a superb T-bone steak dinner and a glass of wine for $14 good food, good price, good service, and able to have cigarette after the meal. Came back and worked on my page until midnight when I was due to meet Chris at the Kink Kafé. When I got there I found there was a note on the door saying that he had finished early so I went for a walk up the street.

On the corner of Oxford St and Flinders I was approached by a not bad looking guy who appeared to be in his early twenties. It soon transpired that he was trying to earn money. Having nothing better to do and finding him an interesting character I spent the next hour chatting to the rent boy. After propositioning me and getting a negative response he suggested we go for a stroll to which I readily agreed. After about twenty minutes he realised that I would not be increasing his bank balance so he put his tool away, I did likewise and we parted company.

The traffic was quite heavy as I drove north over Sydney Harbour Bridge. When I went to look at Manley beach it was so inviting that I decided to stay there. I found a parking space with some difficulty at one end of the beach and with camera over my shoulder set out to walk the length of it. The sand was powder soft and pastel pale beige in colour. The sun was very hot and with a light breeze coming across the surf walking around topless was very comfortable indeed. On reaching the far end I retraced my steps stopping now and then to take a number of photographs of the surfers and beach boys in general.

Sydney Harbour Bridge and opera house in the distance across the bay	the breakers rolling in and the boys surf on them	the seagulls mixed with the people on the golden sands
the beach is used for many forms of recreation	a group of youths are led out to be taught the skills of basic surfing	others already have the skill and their own surfboards
some guys will pose for a photograph	other guys take their camera down to the beach	and everybody enjoys the sun, the sea and the sand.

Manley on the whole had been a refreshing experience and I felt light-hearted. The sun beat down on the car as I drove north again towards Narrabeen. The whole coastline is of course beautiful beaches and coves. My farthest point was at Palm Beach on a peninsula which is very beautiful and as the name suggests there are many palm trees and golden sand in abundance. From here I went inland through the forest to Terrey Hills and at Pymble. It was late afternoon by the time I turned left on to the Pacific Highway and headed back into the Sydney.

I parked up underneath the Harbour Bridge to take a photo of the opera house. While walking alongside the River I found this couple in deep embrace under the shade of an overhanging tree. This young lad seemed intrigued that I was taking a picture of them so I decided to take one of him also. It was pleasant meandering along watching the yachts, ferryboats, jet skis and a variety of other craft passing up and down the busy river. In the evening I came back to the hotel, parked the car, then went on foot to do some shopping.

Having received a Christmas card from Richard and another from his parents I reciprocated and posted Christmas cards to Richard, his family, Peter, and my brother Gordon. No doubt they will be late for Christmas but sending them was an afterthought, I had no intention of sending any cards this year. After taking the cards to the hotel reception for posting I went down to the basement where there are watching and drying machines and I did my laundry. It was very hot in the bowels of the building and I was thankful to be finished and returned to my room where I lingered under a refreshing shower before dressing to go out for dinner.

At 2245 I found a seafood restaurant where I had grilled perch, chips and salad. The fat white fish was succulent, grilled to perfection it was slightly brown outside and moist with a full rich flavour within. A glass of white wine and the brochures illustrating Tours and events in the surrounding countryside accompanied this delightful meal and brought my day to a satisfactory conclusion.

I awoke at the first sound of my telephone alarm, looked around but couldn't see my mobile anywhere. In my haste to go to sleep I had covered it with a brochure. I switched it off, got out of bed and immediately set about backing my bags ready to leave the hotel. The checkout time was 1030 and by 1020 I had put everything into my car, eaten breakfast and presented myself at reception to finalise my bill.

I drove to the Wattle Hotel which is about 300 m from the Cambridge Park Inn and located on the corner of Oxford Street and Palmer Street. My room is on the second floor facing Oxford Street and as this photograph shows I can see my previous resting place from my window. It is not as modern nor so luxurious as my previous hotels but it has all the same basic facilities within the room. Unfortunately there is no lift and I have to find street parking for my vehicle as the Wattle doesn't have a car park either. However it is far less expensive £30 per night including continental breakfast whereas the other was £54 for room only.

Shortly after I arrived I spoke to Michael, the owner, and asked him about the parking regulations where it might be best to park. He told me that since I have a hired car I need not concern myself parking tickets. He suggested that I tear them up and pop them in the nearest dustbin as there was no way that I can be held liable to pay them. He explained the system takes about three months before the car hire people would be notified and that in any case they have an arrangement with the authorities whereby they don't have to pay them. I have no idea nor any way of knowing whether this is true or not but it makes good sense to me. I explained that it was being clamped or having the car removed that was my main concern. He said as long as I don't park on a freeway, Highway or any of the main streets then the most I would get would be a ticket. He showed me a street where, if I could found space, it would be free parking as the signs had been partly obliterated and no one had had a ticket there for as long as he could remember. He told me he parks his own car there whenever he can and leaves it all day.

After all the activity of moving in the morning I decided to rest in my room during the afternoon and early evening. I wrote postcards to Paul, Peter, Jack Fabian and Iain and Simon Aitchison. These I posted when I eventually went out for dinner. I also visited a few of the local gay bars mostly out of curiosity. They are rather like the gay bars in London and I have little in common with these people. In the Oxford I met a chap called Gary who comes to town once a week. He was very attentive and friendly and bought me a couple of drinks. We made arrangements to go to another bar that he told me that I needed to change out of my shorts and sandals to wear long pants and shoes. Accordingly I went to my hotel, changed my clothes and got some money, returning to the Oxford within ten minutes. When I arrived the barman told me that Gary had gone to the Barrack Bar. I went there directly and when I arrived there were few people in the bar none of which was Gary. I left after one drink and went to eat some Indian food before going to the Kings Steam sauna farther down Oxford Street. The sauna was not very busy but I got my $25 worth before leaving at 0200.

I felt very tired and drained of all energy so updated my diary briefly, downloaded my e-mail and went directly to bed

I checked my route in the Sydney Street map and headed out west along the Broadway eventually merging with the Great Western Highway. The traffic was fairly heavy but the roads are quite good and it was a beautiful of sunny day. On the way I called in at Penrith where after scoffing a pineapple doughnut and a cup of coffee I went to the tourist information office. The gentleman in there was very helpful and gave me maps and instructions about the places I would probably find most interesting.

The road west is lined with trees and consequently there is not a lot of scenery to view. I made occasional stops where I found gaps in the trees and a place on the narrow roads where I could park to admire the view. For the first 25 years of European settlement around the Sydney basin these ragged mountain ranges, dense with eucalyptus and wattle trees, defied many attempts by the early settlers to find a way across them to the inland. Today visitors can enjoy the scenery and attractions surrounding the 22 mountain towns and villages, which stretch across this dissected sandstone plateau, as well as the peacefulness of the Blue Mountains National Park - the lungs of metropolitan Sydney - where many visitors enjoy a short which walk while others, more adventurous, spend days camping out 'in the bush'. I intended only to spend an afternoon there consequently my itinerary was very selective. My viewing stops were of very short duration and so I sped on and arrived at Katoomba at 1245.

The streets in the town are quite narrow and the places of interest are not well sign posted. It was with difficulty that I eventually found Echo Point which is the lookout for the famous Three Sisters. The legend of the Three Sisters is that in the Aboriginal Dreamtime there were three beautiful sisters named "Meenhi", "Wimlah" and "Gunnedoo".

The sisters lived with their father, who was the witch doctor of the Katoomba tribe. They were madly in love with three brothers from the Nepean tribe. However, ancestral law forbade the maidens from marrying any man outside their own tribe. The brothers where brave warriors and decided to take the maidens by force. A fierce battle followed forcing the witch doctor to use his magic stick to turn his daughters into stone.

He intended to restore them after the danger had passed. Unfortunately, the witch doctor was killed in the battle and to this day nobody has been able to find the magic stick to break spell and turn the sisters back to their natural form. If you are quiet while out bush walking you might see a native Lyrebird scratching around still looking for the magic stick.

I went for a ride on the Scenic Skyway which carried the Olympic flame during part of its journey through the Blue Mountains. Installed in 1958 it is the only passenger carrying horizontal rope way in the southern hemisphere. The cable car is constructed of aluminium and is suspended from a cable strung across a portion of the Jamison Valley between two 200m high sandstone cliff faces. The cable car can carry up to 30 passengers and a completed trip takes about five minutes and carries the passengers 360m across the Valley. At its highest point the cable car is 226m above the creek.

A trip on the scenic railway is short but interesting. With the carriages descend through a crack in the rocks at a speed of about 4 m per second and part of the journey is so steep that the train is almost vertical. It does six trips per hour and holds about 120 people on each trip. The driver, whose name is Lee, is in fact called the Winder as in reality he is operating the winch, which is controlled from the train by radio codes and powered by a DC 150 kW motor.

Leaving Katoomba behind I travelled west as far as Mount Victoria before turning right and heading back toward Sydney on the more northern route so making a circular tour. I found this interesting piece of sculpture, a scarecrow, standing on the green in Kurrajong Village. Continuing eastward the I passed the RAAF Station in Richmond and arrived back at my hotel in Sydney at 2000.

After a shower I went out to the court hotel where I ate chicken breast stuffed with avocado and feta cheese, chips and a side salad. My nose has been stuffy all day and I've gone through a box of tissues. My eyes are suffering also and I keep having to clear some matter from them. I have not been able to get online since I moved into this hotel. I think it is because they have a pulse telephone system on the switchboard and that is not really something I know how to reconfigure on my computer. As I am scuba diving tomorrow I am going to bed at midnight in order to rest and replenish my energy.

Michael, the hotel owner, was serving breakfast this morning so I asked him about the situation with the telephone. Explaining that I can get online with his system but that it was not possible to connect to my UK ISP, browse the web or to any of the usual things. He explained that the telephone system was to be updated and he would be having a tone system. Until then he knew of no way to help me. I thanked him and asked for a strong coffee and toast.

I been advised that the journey to Ramsgate would take me about an hour at least and consequently I set of at 0750. It was going to be the hottest day of my holiday so far with temperatures forecast at 40 degrees. The traffic was flowing freely and I found the route after making only one wrong turning and so arrived at the Dive Shop at 0815. I apologised for my early arrival and explained what had happened. It is not unusual they informed me and suggested I leave my bag in shop and go and find myself coffee for an hour or so.

In the local newsagents I bought the UK Daily Mail where the lead story was how the British Government were going to pay for the Bulger murderers to be given new identities passports and all manner of goodies to live in another country. Say no more.

Back at Abyss Diving I was introduced to my instructor, Kelly Oldfield who was taking charge of today's dive. It was already very hot and when I went to try on the wetsuits I was sweating profusely. By the time we were all ready to go to the dive site it was after ten o'clock. We drove out to Bare Island and it was only when we arrived that I discovered how far I would have to walk to the water. We parked the vehicle, kitted up and chatted to get to know each other.

It was with great difficulty that I carried myself and my gear consisting of a BCD, large aluminium tank of air, a two-piece wetsuit that was much heavier than the one I'd had in Cairns and six weights strapped around my waist down the 50 m long pathway, over some steep rocks, along a narrow and uneven edge for a further 10 m and finally, precariously down over the rocky foreshore to the water's edge. My buddy was a small lady, Ruth, who was no younger than myself and she had great difficulty in manoeuvring the steep rocks and had to use Kelly's shoulder from time to time to assist her passage. I joked with Kelly "If I'd known how difficult it was going to be I'd have hired a porter." I already explained to her about my misfortunate prosthesis so she was sympathetic and most helpful during the trek down.

With Kelly's help I put my fins on and slipped into the water. Ruth and Kelly got in and we floated on the surface while she explained the nature of the dive and what she proposed. When she told us to go down I could not leave the surface. My BCD was fully deflated and no matter what I tried to do headfirst or feet first I remained on top of the water. Kelly came to my assistance and gave me two extra weights. I relaxed with those but they made little difference I was still at the surface and showed no inclination to sink. In the end she and Ruth took one of my feet each and pulled me down to the seabed. Once on the seabed they let me go and I was still beginning to ascend just a little. I managing to stabilise about a meter and a half from the bottom. Kelly gave me another weight and that brought me down to their level.

We explored the rocks and fish swimming around for thirty-one minutes during which time I enjoyed the experience although the visibility was no more than 10 m. This was nothing like it had been at Cairns neither so interesting, colourful nor were there many varieties of fish to look at.

Back on shore I removed my fins and we all made the hazardous journey back to the vehicle at the roadside. Diving is in itself very energy consuming and I had great difficulty in maintaining my balance and my pace.I found it extremely hard work to put one leg before the other. Kelly asked if she could help by carrying my weights for me. Had she been a boy I would immediately have said yes but as it was I hesitated and she had to ask me again. This of course made it much easier and I was then able to keep up with the girls.

By the time we had taken off our gear and settled down by the vehicle the other two divers who were with our party, Bruce and Matt returned from the ocean and joined us. As they were both certified Open Water Divers and they had gone ahead as soon as they were kitted up.

Matt had to leave as he only had time for one dive and so for our second dive Bruce buddied Ruth and Kelly buddied me. After a 40 minute break, during which time Bruce drank carrot juice swearing it was the best energy restorer he could have, we went to the other side of Bare Island. This was a longer but much easier journey to the water's edge without any hazardous rocks on the route. I spent a very enjoyable 40 minutes with Kelly during the first 15 minutes we saw a Port Jackson shark and a big fat friendly Grouper who swam and played around with me for a few minutes before shooting of behind some rocks. The water here was much more interesting than it had been on the other side with lots of yellow and brown seaweed and various orange, mauve, brown yellow and bleached coral as well as the fish. Kelly came across a Weedy Seadragon which we watched for some time. It is beautiful like a seahorse and this particular mail was about 25 cm long and was carrying eggs. Kelly told me that this animal can only be seen in Australian waters.

Again we were the first to emerge from the Pacific ocean and I left Kelly sitting on the rocks waiting for Bruce and Ruth was I took a slow walk, resting many times on the way, back to the 4WD.

Back in Ramsgate Kelly pulled up behind the dive shop and we stepped from the cool air-conditioned vehicle into intense heat. We unloaded the vehicle and stored the gear, I had my divers log stamped and signed by Kelly, confirmed that I would be coming for a another dive on Sunday and then drove back to my hotel. It had been a good choice of day to go diving as the weather in Sydney was hot and humid while on the coast we had had the benefit of a breeze all the time.

I was pleased that my nose had not been running too much all day although it had leaked blood after each dive. Back at the hotel I found it took all my energy and I had to rest in several places just to climb the stairs to the second floor. I slept for two hours.