Richard and Kirsten's Big Adventure: Sydney

After two weeks on the road coving 3000 miles, it was good to return the car, actually unpack the rucksacks, and settle in for nine nights at hotel (Glen) Ducanson.

Many people like to wax lyrical about the beauty of Sydney, and truly it is a curvy, sexy city. During the month of February, 28 cruise ships docked in Sydney harbour – the smaller ones go to Darling Harbour, while the larger ones, which can't fit under the harbour bridge, dock at Circular Quay. The Queen Mary II, which is too long for Circular Quay, has to go to the navy dock.

First on the agenda was to catch up with Ben and Steve, last seen in China, and freshly back in Sydney after five months in South America. Also in town over the weekend was Narelle, so together with Glen, the five of us popped over to Newtown for some Vietnamese. Glen, Kirsten and I followed this up with some bad Redbull-vodka fuelled brit-pop.

One of Glen's work mates was having a Sunday birthday picnic on Shark Island. Slightly worse for wear, we boarded the ferry at Circular Quay for the ride out to the island in the middle of the harbour, to the east of the city. In the harbour were perhaps 100 small sailing boats, with Sydneysiders having a Sunday splash. Standing on the island in the middle of this enormous natural harbour, you get a real sense of the shape, size and attractiveness of the city. Glen and I ventured into the water, and lacking a ball, threw a nine year old to each other.

We earmarked Monday as a day of rest, and only left the flat to forage for food, which we duly barbecued and ate on the balcony. Need to build in more days of doing nothing.

Back on the tourist trail, we took the ferry around to pretty Watson Bay. On the way in, there appears to be a large collection of eateries, unfortunately this turned out to be one large expensive restaurant, and a massive canteen knocking out $18 salads. However what you do get with your overpriced grub, is a fantastic view along the harbour back to the city. Around the corner is Camp Cove, reputedly one of the best harbour beaches. Being a harbour beach, there's of course no surf, but that makes it good for a gentle swim.

We took the ferry back to Toronga Zoo on the north shore. The zoo is on a hill, so you take a cable car to the top and work your way down. We arrived at 3, but at this time all the shows are over (no petting a Koala today), and by the time we got round to the gorillas and elephants, they'd been put to bed. The animals winning the prize of best view are the giraffes, whose enclosure has great harbour and city views (of course the giraffes themselves get even better views due to their natural advantage). The zoo is actually very well laid out, and needs more than 2 hours to do it justice (as well as arriving before 3).

Steve and Ben have just moved into a new place in fashionable Darlinghusrt. Steve is currently looking for a new job, so was available for lunch around his way. We browsed the Wild Life Photographer of the Year, in the Museum of Australia, then had to say goodbye as we had tickets for Madam Butterfly at the Opera House. I've never been to the opera before, but it lived up to all my expectations of a fat bloke warbling.

Come Thursday, it was high time we cuddled a Koala. It is illegal to cuddle a Koala in New South Wales, but you can stroke one that's sat in a tree. The place to do this is Featherdale. Steve drove us out there in their brand spanking new Cooper S. True to their word, they dump a Koala on a bit of tree, shove some eucalyptus in its face (they're only awake while eating), and let you go in, stroke it and take photos galore (I assume they rotate the little fellows often).

Also at Featherdale you can hand feed the (unsurprisingly) overweight Kangaroos and stroke a sheep (if you really want to). On the way back into town, we stopped at a designer outlet, and bought new wardrobes – fairly easy when your wardrobe is four t-shirts. Donning our new wardrobe, we met Megan for a catch up drink in the Clock in Surrey Hills (another nice part of Sydney, close to Darlinghurst).

After the slightly surreally experience of having the Madagascar Honorary Consulate personally issue our visas, I ran around looking for a pub that would be open at 7am and show the rugby. We'd booked in to do the Bridge Climb at 5pm. The first hour is spent kitting up – you're not allowed any loose items (including cameras), and are put in a grey boiler suit, which any essential items (like glasses) are clipped to. While on the bridge, you are permanently attached to a line, but before getting on the bridge, you must walk the “bridge simulator”, which teaches you how to walk up a ladder (in case you've never seen one before).

Our guide was the bubbly produce of a stage school (“come on team, big smiles” - you get the picture). She lead us up ladders and out onto the eastern arch, where fairly shallow steps ascend to the summit. On route the guide took posed photo, before arranging us for a group photo at the top. You then cross over to the western arch for the decent. This coincided with the beginning of sunset over the Blue Mountains. Now for the rant: the experience costs $179 each ($219 if you go for the dusk slot) for the privilege of being in a group of 13 walking over a bridge. A group leaves every 10 minutes. For safety you cannot take your own camera, but hay the guide's taking those once in a lifetime photos for you. So here's the sting; if you want 4 of those photos on disk, it's $65. So for a couple to do the walk and have photos, they have to hand over $423 (£200) - these guys must be taking over a hundred grand a day. The views on the way up and down are fantastic, so I wouldn't want to diminish the experience, I just find their business model a bit knavish.

Without us really noticing, the weekend had rolled around once more. Glen thought an outing to Whale Beach, in Sydney's far north suburbs, was in order. Firstly I had to get up at 0645 to watch Wales get overpowered by France in a pub in the Casino (the only place open at that time). Ben and Steve came with us, and we did wholesome beach activities, like Frisbee, boogie-boarding , sunburning and being ripped off for lunch. A little way north of Whale Beach is Palm Beach, better known as Summer Bay. I haven't watched Home & Away for 15 years, but apparently Sally Fletcher is all grown up and a bit of an Aussie media babe. There was a wedding going on at the time, and given the bridle car was a London cab, I could help wondering weather the happy couple were way too obsessive British fans.

For our final day in Sydney, we had lunch in the Rocks – Sydney's first settlement, and now tourist central. The green in front of the Hyatt, with the Opera house across the water, is a favourite wedding photo spot.

Whilst Bondi is far from Syndey's best beach, we felt we couldn't leave Sydney without a visit. The place was crowed, but nothing compared to some European beaches. It's a fun place to people watch, and with the constant filming of Bondi Rescue (LINK) going on, there are high incentives to try a little drowning.

An old friend of mine, Ian, who I've not seen in almost 20 years (his family move away to Southampton), now lives in Sydney with his family. We met Ian, his wife Carolyn, and three of the four kids for Pizza in Darling Harbour. It was great to catch up – I didn't realise how much noise three kids can make, but then Ian and I were hardly the quietest of kids.