Day four was full of drama (more about that later). It all got sorted, eventually, but for what seemed like an age I was convinced that I’d need to get to Canberra and get a letter from the South Africans proving that my surname is Britten and not Britten-Steyn. As you can imagine, I was not happy.
After all of that drama, we needed to decompress, so we walked through the Botanical Gardens, past the Opera House and back to the ferry. While waiting, we stopped at Sydney’s oldest pub (beer for Chris, cider for me). We had to gulp it down to make the Mosman ferry in time but my God, there are times when alcohol hits the spot.
On the ferry, the light was good enough for the iPhone to take half decent photos of the harbour. It really is spectacular.
At Mosman, where we’d parked, we drove to Balmoral Beach on the other side of the peninsula. We couldn’t find a place that would sell us food, so we bought beer and cider and went to sit on a small island with this view. Sydney is full of sites like this within easy reach:
We had a conversation about the iniquities of international banking system and the way the logic of capitalism has become entrenched in our debt-addicted culture. Like me, Chris is allergic to debt. It’s an attitude that is both crippling and liberating.
Then it was back to Lane Cove, where Chris had to head off to his old house to clean the stove, and I stayed behind to work on some blogging while the sun sank behind the western horizon. What a day.