An American in
SYDNEY
An American arrives in Sydney with a camera, a list of icons and the hopes of experiencing the harbour the way it should be experienced. With Journey Beyond Cruise Sydney, he does.
WORDS Jason A. Heidemann
There is no wrong way to photograph the Sydney Opera House, but there’s definitely a best way to do it. I am by no means the first visitor to be mesmerised by this Aussie icon (designed by Danish architect Jørn Utzon in 1957 and completed in 1973), thanks to its chevron-patterned matte cream and glossy white oversized shells that, from a distance, resemble the gleaming sails of a tall ship porting in the harbour. It’s the most-photographed structure in the entire Southern Hemisphere (Take that, Machu Picchu!) and in 2007 was designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. But here’s the thing: I’ve sat on its steps, toured its interiors, and stood among the masses in crowded Bennelong Point to snap the perfect selfie in front of it. Little did I know until I tried it myself that the best way to experience this bucket-list superstar in full splendour is to sail around it as daylight turns to nightfall.
It’s a balmy Sydney evening, and a festive atmosphere has swaddled the city like morning fog thanks largely to Mardi Gras, which is starting to pop off just a few kilometres away in Sydney’s inner suburbs (what Americans like me refer to as central neighbourhoods). I’m standing by myself in Darling Harbour, and in the near distance, the vainglorious Crown Sydney (aka One Barangaroo), the tallest building in the city and the continent’s first six-star hotel and casino, splits in half any cloud that dares to pass through it. The chatter from the nearby waterfront pubs is downright infectious, but I’m happy right where I am, on the dock, steadying my sea legs for an upscale harbour dinner cruise with Journey Beyond Cruise Sydney.
I join the gathering crowd of couples and groups in cocktail dresses and summer linens and share their collective anticipation as the Spirit of Migloo, a 78-foot luxury catamaran, glides into port. Before tonight, I have only ever explored Sydney’s iconic harbour via the Manly Ferry, a daily service connecting the Central Business District to seaside Manly – a lovely beachfront town. It’s a scenic ride, though rushed and often crowded, and unlike the Spirit of Migloo offers no oyster course. As tickets are scanned, the gangway is lifted, and champagne glasses are clinked in ceremonial harmony, our maritime adventure begins.
Can you tip over a yacht? This is the first thought that passes through my mind as all of us rush in lopsided unison to the Bennalong-facing side of the boat as it sails around the Opera House. Though we will have ample opportunities to admire it throughout the course of our 2.5-hour sail, all of us are pulled toward it like magnets to snap sunset selfies as pastel colours crown the architectural marvel, further upping its wow factor. It escapes none of us that these are truly VIP views, and it doesn’t hurt that we’ve all dressed our photogenic best.
Of course, it is just one of many scenic treasures surrounding us. On the other side of the boat, the Sydney Harbour Bridge, a steel and concrete icon that is arched like a coat hanger, connects the city to its north shore suburbs. Already a tourist attraction thanks to its pedestrian pathway, it further upped its tourist cred in 1998 when the bridge became climbable. I risk deepening crow’s feet for a skyline squint and am delighted to see human silhouettes atop the bridge. I seize the moment to snap another showstopping photo.
Aside the bridge sits Luna Park, a heritage-listed (and still operating) amusement park that was constructed in 1935 and is most noteworthy for its Art Deco entryway where visitors pass through the mouth of a slightly menacing face bookended by two towers whose spires are modelled after the Chrysler Building. It is especially enchanting at night when it flashes like Vegas neon, and our yacht takes us right up to it. Sydney Harbour is a jigsaw puzzle of bays, inlets, coves and tributaries numbering in the hundreds, and aboard the Spirit of Migloo, the parks and beaches I’ll explore on foot in the coming days are fully revealed.
But it’s not until we’re all seated and feasting over a multi-course dinner (including a half dozen Sydney rock oysters, pulled burrata with heirloom tomato, a brined chicken in a mushroom jus and a chocolate praline tart for dessert) that the remarkableness of this moment sinks fully in. By dint of its remoteness, Australia is difficult to reach, and Aussies are accustomed to welcoming first-time visitors in full thrall of the surroundings they may only see once in their lifetime. Thus, there’s a shared incredulity among us passengers and an acute awareness that when our travels reach an end, we’ll be showing off photos of kangaroos, reefs, and opera houses that most people only dream of seeing up close.
As our catamaran makes one final pass around the harbour, its monuments, lighthouses and hillside homes light up and twinkle under the night sky. Aboard the Spirit of Migloo the full splendour of this spectacular harbour city is fully realised. Yet despite the grandeur of the moment, Australia can be a tough sell back home. Though many Americans dream of a Sydney experience exactly like the one I’m having right now, time constraints make a trek down under a challenge. The flight is daunting, and the country is massive (roughly the same size as the continental US). But if the essential purpose of travel is to encounter the rare and the unfamiliar, then Australia is like Mecca for the curious traveller. Only here can you encounter a mob of marsupials bouncing around the outback, stand before a mighty sandstone monolith inscribed with ancient Indigenous art, and sail so close to a modern architectural treasure you can practically reach out and touch it. Trust me, Oz is worth it.