Sydney

It was overcastted. The light was soft yet warm. A magnificent, colourful weathered rock wall rose vertical out from sea. On top of it peeped double storey houses over the edge - all for a view over the sea. Behind it, the landmass of Australia dozed in yet another rain shower for yet another day. On the sea side of the wall, vines and salt loving plants thrived on the tiny terraces of the eroded stone. It looked just like a Mediterranean setting. We've arrived in Sydney. In Spring Cove the youngsters dive-bombed off the fenced-off cliffs for a swim and the old pier had tired-less fishermen all hours of the day and night. In the dark their lures glowed. Manly was the first place where I had the feeling that if I had to live in a city, I could do it here. A family kind-o-feeling caught me. It felt as if the people themselves enjoy their place. The Spit Bridge opened for us and into peaceful Sugarloaf Bay we went. It's a small nature reserve amongst city high-rises and compact urban development. There might be one other boat sharing the anchorage with us. But then starts weekend and the place turns into buddy-boat-bay with numerous gin palaces and yachts gathering for a who's who. Crows laugh. Sulphur-crested Cockatoos make the wildest racket at dusk. Fish jump constantly and at night, owls hoo-hoo.