Sick-ney part II

Being too lazy to drive out to Hunter Valley and probably tired of being behind the wheel, we took the car on a half-full tank for a last spin around the city and drove to the viewing point near the Wharf before doing the compulsory circuit of the Sydney Opera House, bridge and harbour at dusk. F and i were here as backpacking unni students 10 years ago and nothing's really changed. I could still remember the awe at first sight of the Sydney iconic structure whereas now we're probably more jaded.

When the sun set, we strolled around the Rocks area and spent happy hour at one of the trendy waterfront bars, lapping up the A$3 potent screwdrivers and priceless view of the harbour against the lavender-pink sunset. With or without alcohol, we never failed to reduce into a bunch of silly 18 year-olds everytime we meet up (ok admittedly worse when there's cheap abundant booze!). B was a fabulous tour guide as we walked through the city's spanky district in search of dinner.

Admittedly I found Sydney more culturally integrated and welcoming from the friendly vibes and many enclaves from the bustling Korean, Spanish and Chinatown quarters. Dinner was an abundant affair of ginseng chicken soup, hot stone rice, fried vermicelli and eggy pancake in the comfort of this cosy family-ran Korean restaurant. The World Cup soccer fans were out in full force and I was just gaping at the 3 Brazilian hunks showing off their sizzling Capoeira stunts in their super tight yellow-green outfits around the street corner.


The next day, we woke up early and headed for the almost 2-hr 6km Coogee-Bondi Coastal Walk passing by many dream retirement villas at Gordons bay and Clovelly. The serene cliffside Waverley Cemetery overlooked the great blue ocean and apparently you could find the graves of many famous Australians here but we spotted the headstones of many young infants dating to the early 1900s. The hike was gently sloping and none too challenging but soon we found ourselves peeling off the layers under the sun's harsh glares at high noon.

The coastal views were as stunning as the cute surfers in their skin-tight wetsuits and we were wondering aloud how cold the waters were. Past noon, I found myself geared up with a good appetite at one of Bondi's many italiani ristoranti. The oysters and seafood pasta were alrite but none too impressive while I - being the craddle-snatcher - was making eyes at the boyish waiter. An hour later, we nearly choked on the awful dry chocolate cakes at a mall's cafe and comforted ourselves with bags of trendy purchases.

On another early morning, we headed to Sydney Fish Market which turned out to be a major disappointment. The oysters, salmon sashimi and cooked seafood were way below our expectations and I was left with a sour taste which luckily was salvaged by a post-lunch gelato and latte caffe at one of Newtown's many cafes. I liked the buzz here and the shops were great for retail therapy. When I bought a red polka-dot top, the Thai shopkeeper asked if I was Vietnamese or Thai, to which I said none of them but 'kor-poon-ka' anyway!

On our last night, just when I thought I'd never remember Sydney for a good meal, B brought us to this really fantastico and cosy ristorante 'Strangers with Candy' tucked away in a quiet neighbourhood (visit www.strangerswithcandy.com.au). The waitress kept saying 'si' as we placed our orders for the stunning starters of duck liver & brandy paté w red onion jam & ciabatta, and braised pork belly w a shao hsing, soy & ginger jus. The mains of barrunmundi, seafood spaghetti and duck confit were also faultless though we were trembling a tad from sitting in the small cold backyard. I couldn't remember the names of the desserts but all it mattered was they were darn divine!

Sick-ney

The drive from Port Campbell was delayed by a water crisis where the town's supply was interrupted and we all had to wash up from a mineral bottle (even poor A who had a shit before realising there's no acqua!) It wasn't much fun on a f%cking cold wintry morning lor! After wiping the layer of ice off our Mitsubishi Outlander, we cut thro' miles of miserable fog and finally got a slice of sunshine at Campertown, a quaint town marked by a memerising row of tall blooming trees.

The rugged scenery was lovely and we took turns at the wheel so our eyes were not just focused on the speed cameras and animal warnings. I must say Aussie drivers are such a nice law-abiding bunch. Halfway thro, I got stopped by a lady cop who pointed out that I had exceeded the speed limit of 50km/h (I sheepishly admitted that I was going at 110km/h) and put me thro' my first breath-analyser test! Yay! I passed it of course since it was only 11am (darn, is this country full of alcoholics?). A pity the gang didn't take a photo of the hilarious scene when I was blowing into the kit!

Since it was the Queen's birthday holiday weekend, most B&Bs in the Wangaratta wine region were full and we had to contend with a stay in Albury town. At least it was close enough to Rutherglen and the receptionists pointed us to the All Saints estate, 45mins' drive away. As it was already pitch dark at 5pm and the signs unclear, we got lost and only reached the vineyard 1 and 1/2 hours later hungry, thirsty and frustrated.

Fortunately our table was reserved by the bubbly waitress who piled it with French-style country fare such as a superb goat's curd souffle with rocket-pear salad and huge portions of steak with perfectly roasted rosemary potatoes - along with a bottle of St Leonard's gold medal Merlot at only A$30 (molto economico!). As Rutherglen was known for their dolce dessert-style vino, we gladly coughed up A$55 for each half bottle of 25 year-old Grand Tokay and Muscat - both liquid gold sliding down our throats. Too bad we didn't have time to explore the cellar doors at the other estates, otherwise we'd lag back more than 4 bottles!

The next morning, we left Albury early on a 6-hour drive to Sydney and found Brian MIA in his Hyde Park apartment. We drove around till I spotted him blinding in his bermudas on the cold wintry streets. In my excitement, I screamed his name which echoed in the streets and caused everyone to turn and stare at the crazed bitch. Welcome to Sydney!

B's small apartment was more than made up by its central location and killer view overlooking the park and harbour. Ever the culinary host, he pampered us with a soul-satisfying homecooked dinner and lots of good laughs. We worked off the calories with a brisk 15mins walk to King's Cross for some live cabaret action at Bar Me, a cosy underground joint packed to the last chair (A$20 for cover). Then followed by a round of yummy Pink Lychee Caiprinha at Libertine, an achingly hip Vietnamese restaurant-bar. King's Cross still had the same pulsating energy as I recalled 10 years ago - just trendier and less seedy now. We trotted to have the glorious beef pies with mash pea and hot dripping gravy at Harry's Cafe de Wheels (A$4.95). This punk jumped queue and I put him in his place! V@ff@nculo!

12 eroded stones

After picking up our rented car, we bid Melbourne arrivederci and embarked on a 6-hour drive to Port Campbell to see the famous 12 Apostles. The early part of the journey was fog-ridden and the visibility a mere 50 metre but the scenery was magical and I stared out at the forest blanketed by the mist - lost in my thoughts about Italia and how everything paled in comparison. Si, sono pazza ma Italia mi mancha tanto, anche se sono in vacanza in Australia!

I missed the rolling hills of Toscana landscape, the rugged cliffs of Cinque Terre, the lush hills of Casa Lanzarotti, the earthiness of Puglia and breathtaking beauty of Sicilia. Devo tornare presto altrimenti saro essere pazzissima... Anyway the fog cleared as we neared the coastal towns Geelong and surfing capital Torquay where stopped for a spot of surfwear shopping and brekkie (served by 2 Aussie hunks - hell, about time!).

On the long Great Ocean Road, we were greeted by wonderful vistas of the dramatic coastal line around each curving bend dotted with designer vacation superhomes, wild koala bears coodling in the trees and farm animals grazing on stretches of green fields. According to the travel brochure, the ocean road approaching its 75th anniversary was the world's biggest war memorial; handbuilt by returned WWI soldiers in honour of their fallen comrades. Ha, bet you didn't know that.

Just then, I was about to burst from a full bladder and luckily we found a freezing public toilet in a car park soon enough! By 4pm, we finally rolled into Port Campbell Park where we followed the tourist path to see the 12 Eroded Stones (my nickname for the Apostles). The sun was in our face and the light too glaring to take any decent postcard pictures but hey, we tried our best.

As the sun set, the temperature dipped to 4 deg C and I felt like we were trapped in a horror film where vapour streamed with every word mouthed. The South Ocean villa was tres chic - compact yet full of character - ripped out of the pages of Vogue Living. That night, we savoured the Melbourne appetisers and popped the sparkling Shiraz while I cooked a comforting macaroni soup with chicken and vegetables to sooth our weary tastebuds.

Down under fantastico

Ciao! Mi dispiace (sorry) if I was MIA for the past month; I just came back from a 10-day winter escapade in Australia with my good pals - a long awaited promise to my mate Brian in Sydney. It had been 10 years since our last visit to Down Under and things hadn't really changed much. The trip kicked off with 2 full days in Melbourne where we stayed at Albany boutique hotel in the posh South Yarra area, close to shopping/cafe central Chapel Street.

Being a virgin traveller in Melbourne, the city was a fresh breath of air literally especially when the cold wind caused us to go blue in the face at a constant 10 deg C. Based on my poll with Melbournites, we soaked up the vibes at Swanston Street (mall, mall & more mall), Degraves St & Central Place (good buzz), Federation Square (its alrite) and South Bank overlooking the city skyline.

A kind elderly tourist guide pointed us to lunch at the recommended Hardware Lane where we decided on Cafe Miro's delizioso offerings of chef's antipasto (beautiful cheese, ham & grilled vegs), hearty pastas and vino bianco to celebrate our first meal here. Dinner was at La Camera, a casual Italian joint at South Bank where diners were lapping up the thin-crusted pizzas. It was amazing how much Italiana cucina has caught on here at every corner and street; you'd think it's little Italia everywhere! Si, è vero!

By mistake, we took a wrong tram and ended up at Toorak and Chapel Street where we found room for some dolce, caffe and hot chocolate at the popular Cafe Greco. The counter was gleaming with chunky slabs of cakes and Greek desserts - guaranteed to send you to diabetic heaven. Adriano obliged me without much persuasion and shared the huge slice of warm apple crumble with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Yum... how not to put on weight like that?

The next morning, we headed straight for brekkie at the Queens Victoria Market - a great haunt for fresh seasonal local produce from artichokes and beetroot to cherry tomatoes and dried apricot. There were all kinds of potatoes, aplenty cuts of fresh meats, freshly shucked oysters and gleaming seasonal fruits (3 bloody rambutans were A$5 - siao!). I could hang out here all day blissfully staring at and tasting the produce. Now if only I have access to a kitchen!

At the gourmet hall, a couple of young Aussie stall owners teased us 'Hey, you're Singaporeans? Come try lah, don't pray pray!' and we rolled our eyes at them, before loading up on the creamiest feta, proscuitto and salmon rolls stuffed with cheese and wild rocket leaves. i couldn't resist a cheap A$10 bottle of sparkling Shiraz - in preparation for our long drive to Port Campbell.

In the evening, it got really cold and I had to pile on the clothes and gloves looking like a squeezable rolly orange bundle - A said he could spot me from far and I won't get lost in the crowds! Haha. We kinda had a love-hate relationship with the cold winter climate but we all agreed it was such a refreshing change from the perennial heat and humidity back home. After more shopping at Chapel Street, we met up with Rory - B's Irish boyfriend - for a pint and warm dinner in front of the fire place at James Squire pub. The oysters were glorious, mussels in wine plump, and Chicken parma (supposedly a Melbourne specialty) hearty and generous.


Since it was our last evening, I was adamant on hunting down a decent Vietnamese meal - yes even after the bloody full dinner! By sheer dumb luck, we stumbled upon this Viet place opposite Chinatown which claimed that Bill Clinton had 2 bowls of pho there! So we couldn't resist and tuck into a steaming bowl of pho each. I nearly puked from overeating - that was how greedy I was! Gross. Now I know why it's so easy to pile on the kilos in winter.