As the folks in Sacramento trudge through Tule fog and the Pacific Northwest enjoys its own special version of the never-ending rain shower, I made my way along a new commute – the ferry from Sydney’s Circular Quay to Manley.
It’s the dog days of summer down here and the locals know it. Manley Beach was filled with sun-worshiping, English-language maligning Aussies. And on this first day of a month-long visit, I’ve joined them. I peeled down to my swim trunks and caused more than one local to shield their eyes from the reflection coming off my fog-colored skin. One thing different is that the sun tracks across the northern sky and not to the south like back home. And water drains counterclockwise, not clockwise like in the north. Wonder what it does at the Equator?
Manley Beach is a short ferry ride from the heart of Sydney. And like the Staten Island ferry in New York City, it may be the best deal in town, passing the Opera House and Harbor Bridge on the 30-minute cruise to Manley. Manley reminds me of California’s Venice Beach with its outdoor cafés, bikini-clad roller-bladders and an unyielding flow of people to watch. And though it’s a more family-oriented attire than the dental floss bikinis of Brazil, it’s not bad. Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore.
Even this far south, it’s hard to say which way is up. Though I’m near the bottom of the planet, no one is falling off. And my fruity drink does not spill. The compass that came with my new backpack points towards magnetic south. Is it a bad thing if my moral compass points south for a few weeks too?
It’s the dog days of summer down here and the locals know it. Manley Beach was filled with sun-worshiping, English-language maligning Aussies. And on this first day of a month-long visit, I’ve joined them. I peeled down to my swim trunks and caused more than one local to shield their eyes from the reflection coming off my fog-colored skin. One thing different is that the sun tracks across the northern sky and not to the south like back home. And water drains counterclockwise, not clockwise like in the north. Wonder what it does at the Equator?
Even this far south, it’s hard to say which way is up. Though I’m near the bottom of the planet, no one is falling off. And my fruity drink does not spill. The compass that came with my new backpack points towards magnetic south. Is it a bad thing if my moral compass points south for a few weeks too?
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