Newcastle is starting to feel a bit more like home as each day passes, although we still find ourselves pining for this and that aspect of Taiwan. One thing we don't miss is the daily grind of work and work related commitments, which stymied our leisure creativity a lot, especially in the last few years when we could rarely manage the energy to do anything very exciting on the weekends. We'd looked forward to our first year of retirement and we couldn't envisage a dull moment in our intended sloth! As it happened, Covid restrictions and travel bans aided our planned "stay-at-home" mentality, yet, surprisingly to me as I'd always scoffed at those retirees who pined for a "holiday", we were starting to get little urges to get away from our seaside bliss for a spell.
Inspired to get away for a few days, we booked a flying visit to Uluru in late March. Just as we were patting ourselves on the back for managing such a feat at very short notice, the hotel informed us that they were very sorry but they'd overbooked and there were actually no rooms at the inn! Not to be put off we steadfastly booked alternative dates and flights only to be informed 24 hours later that again, indeed, these dates too were full. After a third effort at re-booking resulted in the same stalemate, I politely informed the travel company that we would like to cancel...thwarted but not entirely defeated, our eyes turned to "big brother" down the coast, Sydney.
With brand new toll roads and tunnels burrowing their way through the choked arteries of outer and inner city and making travel slick, quick and seamless we booked at the modern, hip (and expensive!) Ovolo Hotel at Woolloomooloo's Finger Wharf. A valet whisked the car away to a garage unknown, and we got our first taste of our abode for the next few days. The staff were young and energetic, oozing just the right amount of fawning attention but just dialling it back enough to stay ultra cool. Our room was 5 star and we'd opted for a King view room with added benefits such as breakfast and a free, daily replenished minibar! Notes of the building's origins were evident in the giant steel girders in the ceiling and the cavernous belly of the building housing the restaurant, games and lounge area and decadent open space of this shared apartment/hotel building in the centre of the city.
We proceeded to go full tourist dining by night and gawking at iconic sights by day. I had booked us in for our first night to the famous Taiwanese eatery Din Tai Fung. Anyone familiar with these pages will readily bring to mind our extravagant rants about the majesty of this dining gem and we've really missed it since we've left Tienmu. Not expecting too much from an Australianised version of same, we were deposited by Uber at World Square, eventually threaded our way through the labyrinthine corridors and floors to be greeted by much familiarity. Unfortunately, local ingredients and unpopularity of some of our favourites meant they had been modified or ditched by the Australian franchise. Our experience was bitter sweet: it was nearly what we remembered but didn't quite cut it. Close, but no cigar!
We also ate at Kingsley's on the wharf as we thought we should take advantage of the hotel being flanked by a succession of fancy restaurants: we just strolled through the building, exited onto the wharf, and there we were. Our other aim was to experience a steak resembling the benchmark steak by another Taipei favourite of ours, Ruth's Chris. So far in Newcastle, despite visiting renowned steak restaurants, nothing has measured up. This did (almost)! Exquisitely cooked thick cut fillet steak flanked by the very best chips I have ever eaten. We even matched the asparagus and hollandaise that we used to get. Verdict: a very close second.
On our third night we planned a special treat and booked at Bennelong, the iconic eatery at the Sydney Opera House. Again, dropped by Uber, we strolled through the back courtyard of the Opera House to our very late (for us) dinner appointment. The harbour was festooned with light, the bridge sparkled and the people at the Opera Bar hummed and laughed as we made our way into the complex. Our maître d' swooped on us in tailored suit and radiant smile and we immediately felt welcomed and relaxed. The restaurant was full as usual and the menus by executive chef Peter Gilmore of "Quay" fame did not disappoint. We had the most wondrous three course meal, delightfully perfect in every way. The confluence of different flavours, the unique selection of partnered foods and the impeccable service had to be experienced to be believed, and the sheer romance of dining in this architectural masterpiece made it a night to remember.
During the day we wandered through and around the different paths of the Botanic Gardens for many hours, tripped around the harbour foreshore from Woolloomooloo to the city and back many times. We sought shelter from a frowsy day in the serene concrete whiteness of the Museum of Contemporary Art, challenging our senses with some dazzling pieces, some puzzling ones, and some delightful examples of 50s and 60s indigenous art on bark, the "real stuff". We had a light lunch in the glass cube perched atop the museum and drank in the views of the Opera House and the harbour bridge as we lingered long over our sandwiches and pots of tea! On a brighter day following, we spent the day on the slow ferry to Manly, strolled the Corso then ferried back to enjoy the full delights of the harbour and dredging up childhood memories for both of us as the vintage ship wallowed and dipped in the meaty swells across the harbour entrance at Sydney Heads. We were misted in spray on the upper deck as yachts sliced by, rivercats purred and various famous landmarks came and went slowly as we chugged inexorably to our destinations both ways. We walked back again through the gardens for an early evening at the hotel before heading out again on one of our dining experiences.
As soon as we got back, the WSL Newcastle Cup with its extended caravan and entourage descended on Merewether Beach straight opposite our apartment! Cass and I were dazzled by the galaxy of surfing stars on our daily walk and I gawked at the superstars down on the beach. The leadup days were as exciting as the competition days for a number of sessions of training and warming up by heaps of the leading men and women, but especially notable for two incidents. I spied French surfer Johanne Defay and just as we passed her photo (used to black out the view for the comp) I made a comment to her about the photo. This allowed the embarrassed Cassy to have a little flirtation with some French conversation, which both Johanne and her mum were delighted with. We subsequently posed for photos (taken by Mum) and wished Johanne "bon chance!" for her campaign. We've since become such groupies, that I'm now one of her "top fans" on Facebook!
The other special moment came when I was bodysurfing alone in the flags at Merewether in a dumping shore-break. I spotted a great surfer carving up a wave in the mid distance and was mesmerised by his skill. As he came closer, heading straight for me, I recognised the scything athlete as Brazillian superstar and current world champ, Italo Ferreira. He looked at me and asked permission to keep going, motioning a 360 with his hands. I nodded at him, he nodded back then launched off the lip, did a full air rotation and landed in the flats not 10 metres from me. The clubbies were going ballistic, the lifeguards were on the mic admonishing him and he said "Hey, sorry man!". I said, "Don't worry about them, just ignore them. Any time!" He threw me a shaka, grinned and paddled back out. I have to admit, I'm still "frothin'" now!
The subsequent contest was a feast of world class surfing and star spotting from our breakfast table! The park opposite was reserved for athlete parking, so from early morning till dusk we saw all our favourites arriving, meeting up, chatting, getting changed and eventually winner Italo leaving with the precious trophy. I scored bigtime with tickets from the ballot, so we went to many days of competition. Although I didn't get tickets to the final, I still saw it. I carted two milk crates over the road to the blackout fence, set them up and enjoyed the best view in the house!
We had an extra motivation for our quick getaway as wanted to squeeze it in before the WSL event and before a medical procedure I needed. I won't go into details, except for the fact that it seems to have been successful and now I'm just needing to be patient as the long, slow road to recovery rolls out into the future. So far, the start of this road sometimes feels like Cormac McCarthy's "The Road", often like George Miller's "Fury Road" and even occasionally like Dorothy's "Yellow Brick Road"....I'm pretty sure this depends on what drugs I'm taking at the time!
Books....so many. I'll catch up with some of them next time. Here's the link to the Sydney album. Oh, and I completed my birthday pushup challenge after another year of training!