A Second Visit to Sydney | Oliver Roick's Weblog

I first visited Sydney ten years ago when I spent a lot of time in or close to the city centre. I went to posh bars with rude bouncers and moronic bar keepers who correct your pronunciation of drinks. It’s Tooheys not Tootheys; there’s not extra “T”. The city beaches were full of fake-tanned women and men on steroids, arriving and leaving and beefed-up convertibles, blasting Eurodance hits from three years ago. All very plastic, superficial and pretentious, a southern-hemisphere Miami.

In the background a rock pool on Sydneys northern beaches, built into the rocks on the shore line, seen through. In the fore ground the branch of a tree and a stair case.

I went back to Sydney after Christmas. I stayed north of the bay this time, an area that is suburban but lively. Yellow sand beaches where children learn to surf, beautiful rock pools where seniors swim laps with graceful technique. The pine trees lend the are a northern-Californian vibe.

Sydneys skyline on a sunny day is partly block by a tree in the foreground.

Big, expensive houses built on the slope on the shoreline.

The walk from Bradleys Head via Chowder Bay and Middle Head to Balmoral leads through dense canopy. Oftentimes all you hear are birds. It’s so green you easily forget you’re only twenty minutes away from the bustling city, if it wasn’t for the spectacular views of Sydney’s harbour and the never-ending supply of million-dollar homes so big you start to question your life choices.

People walking through a bright-lit room in an art gallery, with Kandinsky art works on the walls.

Kandinsky and Louise Bourgeois at the Art Gallery NSW were worth visiting but not impressive. Kandinsky, whose time teaching at the Bauhaus made him a local hero where I grew up so we covered his work ad nauseam. I had seen a lot of his work before, except his later stuff, which could easily pass a contemporary graphic design. And Bourgeois is just not my jam, way too conceptual.

I’ve changed my mind. Sydney is nice. It has things to do for adults. It has leafy neighbourhoods with nice pubs. It has functioning public transport. Even in suburban neighbourhoods there’s frequent bus service. There is live on the street during the day.

A man sitting outside a pub, seen from inside the pub.

Melbourne on the other hand feels more and more like Berlin. A place that is popular with the young and hip, lauded for its art scene and sprawling creativity. But its streets outside the inner city are deserted between 5am and 10pm. It’s a place that very desperately tries to be a city, but it’s really just a small town that is only big because of its sprawling bland suburbia.