Early Monday morning, we took the train over to the Tsukiji market.  Coming by a different route than before, we encountered a temple where businessmen were making offerings.

In mid-morning, some of the tuna were still in recognizable forms, with fishmongers rapidly creating portions with saws and knives.

On this visit, I discovered the reason that some tuna are called yellowfin.  These had a yellow fin smaller than a thumbnail.

From Tsukiji, we walked through the Ginza, and up towards Yurakucho.  We stopped by a pachinko parlour where the machines were as loud in the morning as they are in the evening.

Down the street, the BIC store is one of the larger electronics retailers in town.  The variety of cameras, mobile phones and electronics fills up multiple stories in the Yurakucho building.

The main hall of the Tokyo International Forum was open, dwarfing the few people inside.

Roy was curious about the statue at the north end of the Forum, that I hadn’t noticed before.  It’s Ota Dokan, a monk, and architect of the Edo Castle in the 15th century.

On the Ginza, we stopped by the Nissan showroom.  The model on display wasn’t for export.

The sounds of music drew us in from the Ginza into the Yamaha showroom, where a keyboardist vigourously exercised a variety of computer patches.

A little further along, we stopped for lunch at an old favourite:  Hanamasa Steak, in Ginza 9.  Ordering food by putting coins into a vending machine, and then eating at the counter is a modern (if not economical) Japanese experience.

The group agreed to next visit Asakusa.  Many families paused at the main gate for photographs.

On the shopping street behind the gate, a few women in kimonos stood out from the rest of the visitors.

Behind the street of commerce is the Sensoji Temple.  Inside, tourists mixed with visitors with more spirtual interests.

Beyond the temples, it’s s short walk to the Nishisando Arcade.  We we unsure of its location until we found the gate.

Inside the arcade is the Edo Shitamachi Museum of Traditional Crafts.

Handmade crafts, such as these lanterns, aren’t in the everyday stores in Tokyo.

Our group got smaller, as jet lag set in.  Roy and I were to only two to continue to Shinjuku, eventually having sushi dinner in a restaurant amongst the pubs.

The next day, Roy and I went over to the east side of Tokyo, crossing the Sumida River.

The Ryogoku neighbourhood is off the beaten path for western tourists, with two very large Japanese attractions.  We were early for both.

The mural outside of the Sumo Museum leaves little doubt of the sights for visitors.

For a building about historical times, the Edo-Tokyo Museum is certainly a modern edifice.

Inside the museum are some large installations, such as the Nakamura Theater, as we viewed from upstairs on the Nihonbashi Bridge.

After lunch, we visited the Museum of Contemporary Art Tokyo.

For an evening experience, Roy and I continued to the Naru Jazz Livehouse.  Gary eventually found us there, after resolving some confusion about which exit of the rail station was near the club.  Mabumi Yamaguchi was an experienced sax player, leading younger yet accomplished sidemen.

For a change of pace on the next day, Yoshi met us, and took us to the Japan Auto Federation head office, where there’s a automobile simulator that we each tried out.  It’s not the same as a real car!

Under the elevated highway of the Inner Circular Route, the canal boats reminded us of water routes through the city.

On the way to lunch, we stopped by Shimizu Cycle, which stocks parts for gearhead enthusiasts.

In Mita, Yoshi guided us to his favourite Korean restaurant for lunch.  Toko had the daily specials on display, although we had already pre-ordered to improve speed.

These trips to Tokyo aren’t all sightseeing.  The researchers actually have meetings, where we spend days at the Ookayama campus, in an invited discussion.

On campus, we walked by some students out juggling, presumably as a way to work off stress.

On this particular visit, the weather was exceptionally clear, so that a view of Mount Fuji was possible.

After two days of invited discussion, the public is invited to attend open lectures in the main building of the Ookayama campus of the Tokyo Institute of Technology.

This year, the lecture room was filled to capacity.

With the main formal activities completed, we had a night at Toko that included dinner …

… and karaoke.

Since international flights generally leave Narita Airport around 5 p.m., there’s a chance for some sightseeing in the morning and afternoon of the last day.  We hadn’t yet seen Harajuku.  Takeshita-dori was full of umbrellas on this grey day.

Nearby, the Togo Shrine was closed to visitors, but we could see a wedding party through the gate.

Design Festa Gallery is a regualar “starving artists” stop for me.

In the west galleries, one wall is shared by multiple artists, each section marketed off with yellow tape.

The display of cards would be more portable as gifts.

The east gallery is newer, and less populated.

Some artists were still setting up.  Power tools were in play.

Etsuko came to meet us in Harajuku.  She hadn’t tried the fast food takoyaki before, so we sampled a shared order.

Eight days after we had arrived, we were back to Narita for the plane home.  There’s always a lot to see on our visits to Tokyo.

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The back side of the work is as detailed as the front.

The Ceramics Research Center at ASU is an open storage area in a plaza across the street from the more famous main gallery.

The lowness of the J. Russell and Bonita Nelson Fine Arts Center foreshadows the galleries underground.

From the bright Arizona sun outside, the way downstairs takes a few minutes for eyes to adjust.

At the foot of the stairs is a bubbling fountain.

By the fountain is “Out of the Darkness” (1986) by Stan Welsh.

The main exhibits are back up another set of stairs, to a floor above ground.

On the main exhibit floor, amongst the paintings, “Takiya” (1990) by John Ahearn stands out three-dimensionally.

The freestanding “Nuclear Stockpile” (1985) by Robert Arneson is intimidating.

Back outside, columns and dishes are featured on the plaza of the Nelson Fine Arts Center.

Walking through the ASU campus, “A” Mountain is beyond the permit parking lot.

A cactus garden is outside Payne Education Hall.

“Celebration” (1984) by Jerry Peart is an obvious landmark.

The ASU campus is a relaxing stroll on a winter afternoon.

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The back yard of the town hall has a bridge over a small stream.

Over at Addison Circle, traffic circles a roundabout, with the metal sculpture Blueprints, by artist Mel Chin.

The fountain at Bosque Park continues to flow in the evening.

In business travel, it’s often the little sights that are memorable.

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I had a cross section of friends attending over the 25-year period.  Norm was a mentor when I first started in headquarters plans and controls, and retired prior to IBM becoming a services company.  Diana and I married during my first year on the job, and she coincidentally became a  coop student at IBM during her work terms at Seneca College.  I met Greg in the days of the late 1980s in the retail branch when he was a systems engineer, and he later became my manager in IBM Consulting Group.  Anita was a colleague consultant in the early 2000s Business Consulting Services, once assigned a task of extracting a linear storyline out of my convoluted thinking to produce a report the customer might understand.  Stephen joined the company only 6 months after me, and we became friends while working together in 2008 in Industry Solution Sales.

Before we started the grilled beef main courses, Mary Ellen snapped this group photo.  She was my current Canadian manager, matrixed to Antonio in the U.S.  Other colleagues that I had invited unfortunately sent regrets, as they chose to escape the Toronto winter with sunny vacations.

It’s official.  I’m now one of the “old guys” in the company.  I never intended to be at IBM for 25 years, it just happened.  I’ve been fortunate to have a long series of good managers and great colleagues.  I don’t expect to retire any time soon, and continue to enjoy the professionalism and camaraderie in the IBM culture.

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Having already been away from home for week, I craved Chinese cuisine.  We rode the tube to Piccadilly Circus, and wandered to find Chinatown on Gerrard Street — an easy street to remember, since the Chinatown at home bears the same name.

With the history of the Tavistock Institute at top of mind, we rode the tube up to Swiss Cottage to look at the Tavistock Clinic.  The Institute and Clinic used to be colocated, but are now independent entities.  On a late Sunday evening, the facilities were closed.

As a change from riding the London underground, we decided to return to the hotel on a double decker bus to see more of the city.  We rode from Swiss Cottage on a path including Wellington Road, to Victoria Station.

The next day, I acted as scribe while Gary conducted an interview with Sir Richard Bowlby, on the ties between the research between by John Bowlby and cybernetics.  Upon learning that the Bowlby archives are at the Wellcome Library, Gary and I decided to change our travel plans to reroute back through London for one day.

Accommodating a tight schedule, Dav and LJ met us at Paddington Station a few hours before we caught the train to Oxford.  LJ found a pub and then a restaurant nearby, after consulting Internet reviews on her mobile phone.

We continued our journey up to Oxford for the 2009 UK Systems Society meeting.  Before the meeting started, Rafael Ramirez suggested that we meet him at Green Templeton College, where he’s a Fellow.

Inside the Radcliffe Observatory, Gary, Minna and I were privileged to have a relaxed conversation with Rafael in the Common Room.

Aside from UKSS meetings at St. Anne’s College, we had one afternoon free for sightseeing.  One of the distinctive places on campus is a church site converted with a cafe:  Vaults and Gardens.

Our original plans had been to travel northeast from Oxford to Hull direct, with Jennifer.  With the opportunity to deepen the the research base in the Bowlby archives, we bought ourselves an extra day in London with a routing southeast back to the city.  This time, we booked into a hotel in Bloomsbury, coincidentally close to Tavistock Square, the original neighbourhood for the Tavistock Institute and Clinic.

Walking through Bedford Square, we noticed an installation by the Design and Make program of the Architectual Association school.  Following the tradition of summer pavilions mounted since 2005, the 2009 Driftwood Pavilion was larger than human scale.

Research at the Wellcome Library took much of the Thursday.  Registration requires issuing a card to access the reading rooms.  Then, in the special archives room, we consulted the indexes to make requests for specific packages to be brought up from storage.  After lunch, the librarians walked us through how original handwritten documents are to be handled.  Gary sorted through the records, and I transcribed key passages onto the computer.

Reading the 1957-58 list of fellows visiting at the Center for Advanced Study in the Behavioral Sciences, we found some notable names beside John Bowlby, including David Easton, Milton Friedman, Talcott Parsons, Ithiel de Sola Pool, Bruce Quarrington, Claude Shannon, Robert Solow, George Stigler and John Tukey.  I was amused at a letter about a “laissez-faire tennis match”.  The Bowlby archives included handwritten letters home and to colleagues.

Gary uncovered a lead to proceedings of World Health Organization meetings between 1953 and 1956, where John Bowlby participated in meetings in Ludwig von Bertalanffy.  This was irrefutable evidence of ties to the systems community, facts in the resulting report on “John Bowlby – Rediscovering a systems scientist“.

By late afternoon, we had exhausted the Bowlby archives.  Gary and I relaxed on the train from London Kings Cross up to York, where Jennifer picked us up.

Most of the Friday was taken up with research discussions with the Centre for Systems Studies at Hull University.

The late afternoon afforded us sufficient daylight for sightseeing in York.  Many of the shops in The Shambles were closing, as we toured.

We concluded the evening with an Indian dinner as Saffron Desi, where the bread (nan) is served hanging on a rack.

Gary left on the early Saturday morning train to return home.  I hung out for another day, trailing Jennifer and Amanda in their shopping.  This happened to be one of the days of the York Festival of Traditional Dance, where groups of Morris Dancers were performing all over town.

On the Sunday, I was back on the train to London, and over to Heathrow to catch a plane.  Instead of flying westwards towards home, however, I was destined eastward back to Helsinki for another 5 days around the university.

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I had booked a flight arriving that morning, so the introductory lecture was a big foggy.

The welcome dinner was held at a restaurant just across from Senate Square.

In a game depicting the Finnish heritage, a competition of hammering …

… and sawing preceding the drinking songs.

Besides attending the summer school lectures, I managed to squeeze in sightseeing.  Minna took me over to see the Design Factory.

Minna had participated in an workshop in The Stage, a few days earlier.

Creativity is encouraged with kits of drawing and construction materials.

On the weekend, I took the bus over to meet Minna at WeeGee Exhibition Centre in Espoo.  Scandinavian modernism shows up in the metal bench outside, even before entering the building.

The Finnish Toy Museum is on the second floor of WeeGee.  The treehouse doesn’t accommodate adults.

The Helena Rautavaara Museum displays a collection of artifacts from the travels of a foreign correspondent to the Middle East and South Asia in the 1950s.

EMMA — the Espoo Museum of Modern Art — is a maze of rooms on the second floor.  Minna noted the classical schoolroom desk, and contributed some comments to the book.

Downstairs, the Espoo City Museum had a display focused on fire prevention, including some antique trucks.

Also on the ground floor, the Finnish Museum of Horology has a compact collection of clocks and watches.

That evening, Minna and Petri hosted a dinner party.  With sushi-grade fish readily available in Finland, preparing nigiri sushi required only a short demonstration for others to join in.  Many hands make light work.

The distance from Toronto to Helsinki makes a 5-day stay a short trip.  The 7-hour time zone difference means jet lag, so the next stop in the UK would take advantage of having to make the bigger adjustment.

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Back towards the city centre, we returned to a favorite haunt from our past:  Granville Island.  We negotiated the usual traffic jams to park on the dock, facing the Burrard Bridge to the northwest.  The place essentially hasn’t changed much in 25 years.

Looking to the east, it’s possible that all of the towers in the West End weren’t there in the 1980s.

Inside the Granville Island Public Market, the berries and fruit always look great.

We made a habitual stop to Seafood City for cold barbequed salmon.  It’s local cuisine out west, and a treat for visiting Easterners.

A less obvious tradition was buying sausages at Turkey Stop, which endured for over 25 years to close in 2010.

We had a great dinner that night.  The next day, Bruce hosted the cousins and some friends to Paintball in Tsawassen, in a town south of Vancouver.  They each signed forms waiving liability, and got instructions on rules and techniques of paintball.

The cousins had their own suits and guns, while our sons borrowed theirs onsite.  The loaded the guns with paintballs.

Helmuts on, and they went behind the fences to play against other teams.

I stayed outside the fence, and talked with each of the players after they were eliminated and walked out of the shooting area.  After a few hours, everyone was sufficient tired, and retired to compare welts.

For the rest of our stay in Vancouver, our sons slipped into jet lag, and we didn’t see them much in daytime.  DY and I went to visit some old friends.  I contacted Keith and Faye, and we drove north over the Lion’s Gate Bridge to visit their apartment in West Vancouver.  Looking southwest, they have a great view of the Spanish Banks, and the peninsula (which is UBC) facing west to the Strait of Georgia.

Looking southeast beyond the Park Royale Shopping Centre, Stanley Park stands out with its urban forestry.

On the Sunday, DY and I went to English Bay for lunch to relive our first date 25 years earlier.  The original restaurant has now become a bar, so we found an alternative nearby.

Walking along the beach, we saw the barge for Celebration of Lights fireworks festival scheduled for that week.

After five days visit in Vancouver, we were scheduled for an afternoon flight home to Toronto.  On the way, the natural route took us to Richmond — the suburb with the highest Asian concentration in Canada — and we made a lunchtime stop to the Yaohan Centre.

Our sons wanted their final gorge of sushi, and picked up trays from the supermarket.

DY and I left them to the raw fish, and chose Chinese lunches from the food court instead.

On July 27, we returned home in Toronto.  We had left for Sydney on June 30.  This was the longest family vacation that we’ve ever had, and could be the one that we’ll remember as with our sons all together without children of their own.

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Stopping overnight in Armidale, we were rudely reminded that July is Australian winter, with an overnight temperature below freezing. From the middle of the Northern Tablelands, the second day of driving through mountain ranges, leading to gradual descent.

We were making good time on the second day. I calculated that if we aimed for one of the most northmost wineries in the Upper Hunter Valley, we could arrive in time for a 2 p.m. tour. A brief stop at the Muswellbrook Visitor Information Centre clarified directions to Cruickshank Callatoota Estates, since they had moved within the previous year. Off the main roads onto side roads, we navigated up a long drive to find a modest operation, with a small tasting building.

We were welcomed by one of the partners of the estate, who said that the scheduled time was just for publication, and tours can be given on request. He explained that the business is essentially run by two partners year-round, with itinerant help to work the land, and bring in the grapes at harvest time. The winemaking process begins with grape vines run through a destemmer.

When the harvest is brought into the main processing building, the grapes are put into a press where the juice is separated from the skins.

Fermentation happens in stainless steel tanks, followed by aging in oak casks.

Wines styled with less of an oak flavour are matured in larger casks.

The mechanics of bottling are straightforward, although the speed would be amazing.

The resulting bottles still needed labels to be applied.

At the completion of the tour, tasting was to be provided by the other partner. Cruickshank Estates bottles both red and white wines, with many varieties winning awards. They have a reputation as “no headache” wines, as the amount of sulfites used in the process is low.

I was surprised at the high quality of the cabernet sauvignon. Since Ontario is of the world’s largest importers of French wine, I asked if Cruickshank wines would be available back home. He said, no, that he didn’t like the price that the importers would pay. Most of the wine is sold and consumed in Australia.

While tasting wines, we had a revealing conversation.

Cruickshank: What are you doing in the area?

Me: We’re returning from a conference in Brisbane.

Cruickshank: What kind of conference?

Me (thinking that my interests are really obscure): Systems science.

Cruickshank: I know the man who invented system science!

Me (in disbelief): Really?

Cruickshank: Sure. Russ Ackoff. I’ve known him for decades.

It turns out that the winery is a superannuity fund for retirement. John Cruickshank had a prior career as a management consultant in Australia, and thus had become good friends with Ackoff on tours of the southern hemisphere. He said that he would mention me to Russ in his next letter.

We also heard the story of the winery being moved. Strip coal mining is a big business in Australia, and Cruickshank got an offer for his property. Rather than fighting the mining companies, he chose to negotiate a price so that he could relocate the winery and start over.

From Denham, there was a choice of two routes to Sydney: (i) southeast to Newcastle and then southwest near the coast on the Sydney-Newcastle Freeway, or (ii) directly south to Sydney. Having taking the first route on our way north, I chose the second for our way south. This is how we discovered why tourists are generally advised to take the main roads.

The New England Highway had been a two lane road, so I didn’t anticipate that the road could be much worse. Driving south from Wollombi, we were probably on stretches of the convict-built Great North Road, by Yengo National Park. I was amused when we crossed a temporary wooden bridge across a brook. Then we crossed another temporary bridge … and another. We started driving up and down narrow roads on hills — in a minivan with right hand drive! When the pavement stopped and we were on a dirt road, I wondered if we should turn back. We then encountered a blind curve on an uphill incline with only one lane, and had to pull over to let trucks going the other direction pass. I didn’t know exactly how far we had to go, but as we found ourselves on a paved road along a ridge and could see the mountains to the west and the sea coast in the distance to the east, so we continued in a southward direction.

With the sun setting, we followed signs back to the Freeway, and rejoined the multi-lane traffic. We thought that we would have an easy route back to Macquarie Park, but ended up in a traffic jam for an hour. At the end of a school holiday weekend, perhaps the mountain route had been the right — if nerve-wracking — choice.

After checking into the hotel, our family was famished. I had read about a Korean community nearby in Eastwood, so we drove over to find Torin.

We ordered the largest sushi tray available as an appetizer to a variety of Korean dishes.

The Korean shops are in a few short blocks, so strolled around looking at windows at night.

The drive from Brisbane to Sydney is long, and our sons were especially patient in riding in a minivan packed with luggage. With planning and good luck, the journey added to our memories of family time together.

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The exhibits began before we even entered the building, with The High/Perpetual Xmas, No Abstractions 2008, by Scott Redford to the south of the walk.

On the north side of the walk was a patch of Maiwar Green, and the view across the river.

We happened on The China Project exhibition, including a larger-than-life sculpture of Mao Zedong and Mao Zedong by Wang Wenhai.

Down one side of this hall was a series of bronze sculptures titled Metaphysica 2007, by Ah Xian.

Filling the entire facing wall was China Red 2008/2009 by Wang Qingsong.

The posters of China Red continued up the atrium wall into the second floor.

Each of the Metaphysica busts has unique features.

In a side room was an installation of rocks titled Writing with Water 2002, by Song Dong.

As part of the China Project for Kids, participation was encouraged.  Our sons dipped brushes in water, to leave temporary writings.

On the second floor of the gallery, we found a hyper-realistic larger-than-life In Bed 2005 by Ron Mueck.

I was struck by the bright oil painting, Blood on the Wattle, Blood on the Palm 2009 by Gordon Hookey.

A strange combination of found objects and construction parts make up A stronger spring for David: toas for a modern age 2004, by Lin Onus.

In the landing of the second floor, was a series of Utopia Panels 1996 by Emily Kame Kngwarreye, facing the China Red posters reaching up from the atrium below.  Just outside the gallery entry stood a statue — mimicking street performers — titled Tim 2006 by Christian Devietri.

Looking down, the Metaphysica series and China Red stretched across the atrium.

With a call of closing time at the gallery, we left to make our way to the city centre, walking east and north.  This took us by the covered plaza of the State Library of Queensland cafe.

With the mild weather of Brisbane, the stairs of the library are open to the building exterior.

The bank south of the Brisbane River is the site of the Queensland Cultural Centre.  We followed the stairs up to an elevated walk.

Looking west, the sun was beginning to set in the Australian winter.

The central business district is on the north bank of the river.

We asked a person passing by — herself a visitor to the city — to capture our visit as a family.

We had paused by the Approaching Equilibrium 1985 installation by Anthony Pryor.

We reached the Goodwill Bridge, and crossed the river north into the city.

On the Friday evening, we happened onto one of the free concerts for the 2009 Queensland Music Festival.  We decided to sit for a few minutes to wait to hear some local talent.

The folk-rock band, Autumn Sun, had won the prize of the ABC Brisbane “Make Yourself Heard” competition.

On the other side of Brisbane Square, the Treasury Casino lit up with nightlights is faced by 15 Spheres of Steam 2006 by Donna Marcus.

We continued to the Queen Street Mall, starting from the (south)west side end.  The roadway has been closed, for a centre lane of stalls and restaurants.

Musicians were stationed periodically along the mall.  We stopped for a moment to listen to a vibraphone player.

At dinnertime, the outdoor cafes were busy.

We found dinner in one of the food courts in the major buildings.  On the way back, we heard a singer-guitarist, performing between bursts of music from other louder musicians positioned nearby.

Crossing back southward over the Goodwill Bridge, the Wheel of Brisbane was fully illuminated.

Along the south bank arbour walk, we walked through the tendril sculptures guiding us eastward.

We marvelled at the Wheel of Brisbane overhead, but weren’t motivated to become riders.

The Rainforest Green of the Grand Arbour was too dark to explore at night.

At the Suncorp Piazza, an open amphitheatre, we found some breakdancers practicising.  Noah joined them for a few minutes to compare moves.

We continued east to the Stanley Street Plaza, a night market where people were congregating.

One lifestyle market stall hawked merchandise such as bags and purses.

Clothes are a likely find at a night market.

Posters might have made good souvenirs, if we didn’t have to carry them onto an airplane.

A local mascot — with handlers — had been following a route similar to ours along the south bank.

Tired from our long week in Brisbane, we walked back towards the minivan that we had parked near the art gallery.

Our family had spent the better part of two weeks in Australia.  The next morning, we started our return from Brisbane back to Sydney, where we would catch a flight back to Canada.

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We encountered our group walking down Union Road towards the ferry dock.

There’s regular City Cat ferry service from UQ to the city centre.

The structure of the dock suggests the riverbanks are shallow.

In the warm Brisbane winter, we stood on the back deck and watched the ferry’s wake.

The route took us under bridges in a variety of shapes.

The north bank of the river had construction cranes, underscoring Brisbane’s growth.

On the south bank, the Wheel of Brisbane is prominent.

The ferry docked at the Customs House, and we climbed up the steps.

The plaza facing the river is below the level of the street at the front door.

From the customs house, the view southeast of the Brisbane River has a majestic view of a bridge.

Looking southwest down the Brisbane River, towers line the shore.

After we had finished our meeting inside the Customs House, we stepped out onto Queen Street.

In the distance, at the top of the hill, we could see the Cathedral of St. Stephen.

We boarded the bus for a drive through the city.

Our next destination was the Botanic Garden atop Mount Coot-tha.  The sundial must cast a shadow beyond its platform.

Wandering around the gardens, we saw ducks in the pond.

The pond follow a Japanese style.

The arid zone has a cactus house.

While enjoyed the display, the cactus family is not indigenous to Australia, and was brought over from America.

From the lookout facing north, we could see the river.

The towers of the city centre are northeast from Mount Coot-tha.

Looking east, the river takes a bend to the south.

A map marker helped us sort out the directions.

Returning to the UQ St. Lucia campus via bus, the terminus let us on the side away from the ferries.  We walked past Mansfield Place.

The Forgan Smith building was named after a Queensland premier in the 1930s.

The Great Court on the St. Lucia campus is listed on the Queensland Heritage Register.

We found our way back to the Abel Smith building, where we finished the day with a few closing lectures.

It’s refreshing to be at a conference where sightseeing can be built into the program.  While it’s good to be focused on content for a few days, a group trip around the city presents the opportunity for people to get to know each other.

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Our plan was to route through the Lower Hunter Valley to visit some wineries.  We had a short list of potential places to visit, but no real sense of the region.   Trying out Broke Road around Pokolbin taught us that the wineries are spread across vast distances in this region.

Some random decisions led us to Hunter Valley Gardens.  We got out to stretch, but we didn’t find any lunchtime alternatives to suit our palates.

We doubled back to Cessnock, where our son enjoyed Portuguese-style chicken for lunch.  Watching the clock, we figured that we had time to visit only one winery.  We headed northeast via Wine Country Drive to Dalwood, passing by some well-developed residential areas on the way to Wyndham Estate.  In Australian winter, we weren’t expecting to see any grapes on the vines.

The tasting room would probably be busier in the fall harvest season.  The casks outside are for show rather than for aging.

Entering the tasting room, more oak casks reinforce the winery imagery.

A plaque with some of the original rootstock for the winery is more authentically historical.

We debated who would sample wines.  As designated driver, I was limited to sniffing the glasses.

Our family sampled both white and red wines.  The server was knowledgeable about wine, and dispensed education with the tastings.

The sun was low in the sky when we left the winery, so I experienced much of the Pacific Highway (with some construction diversions) in the dark.  We checked into a hotel in Port Macquarie, discovering that it’s a small town where the Chinese restaurant closes at 9 p.m.

The rain continued overnight to the next morning.  As a unique sight for Port Macquarie, we chose Lion’s Lookout, also known as Gaol Point.

Under the shelter, there’s a map pointing out historic sites.  Between 1859 and 1912, the gaol was active, with prisoners sentenced to hard labour.

Looking north, the site of the former gaol has devolved into the Port Macquarie town beach.

Looking south, the longer stretch of sand had more facilities (e.g. changing rooms).

With the river mouth nearby, the waves are supposed to be good for surfing.  The lone surfer was a die-hard in the rainy Australian winter.

Our routing took us through Kempsey with a supermarket stop for fruit (and raw vegetables, as our sons asked to supplement our fast food meals).  When we got to Coffs Harbour, we were mistaken in presuming good seafood might be near the docks, eventually settling for a lunch of fish and chips in a mall instead.  The second hotel on our road trip was in Ballina.  Our choice of a Chinese restaurant for dinner led to our sons lamenting how far away we were from a real Chinatown.

By the third morning, our sons had become adept at loading up our luggage in the people mover.  The third row seating was partially taken up by smaller suitcases that we had brought from Canada.

We somehow missed the northbound exit for Byron Bay, and had to double back south in a roundabout approach.  To pick up maps at the visitors centre, we dodged pedestrians on the small streets.  In pursuit of major sights, we drove up Lighthouse Road towards Cape Byron.

Halfway up the hill was a parking lot overlooking Clarkes Beach.  We saw surfers suiting up, preparing for the descent down to the beach.

In pursuit of a better photograph of Clarkes Beach to the north, I got up on a three-foot wall … and slipped off backwards to fall onto my knapsack.  I was to be sore for more than a few days, and was unfortunately the only person licensed to drive the people mover.  I had to persevere twinges to continue on the drive.

Despite the physical setback, we continued with our plan.  Across from the parking lot, Lee Lane leads to the Cape Byron Walking Track.

It’s mostly a dirt path, well marked but lightly maintained.

We were sufficiently fit to not need the resting bench.

We opted for the shorter route.  The steeper sections had stairs.

In my condition, walking all the way to the lighthouse seemed impractical.  We reached a clearing that must be near Cosy Corner.  There, we found a hang glider ramp overlooking the ocean, facing southeast.

Eric insisted on crawling up to the edge for a photograph looking down.

The view south showed the expanse of Tallow Beach, long and unoccupied.

Looking east from Cosy Corner, the Cape Byron Marine Park is a protected area from the beaches down to the seabed.

We returned down the walking track, as we has ascended.  My hurt back slowed me down.

Back in the minivan, we drove up towards the Cape Byron Lighthouse, and only had a short wait for a parking space on the circle.

The lighthouse at Cape Byron marks the most easternly point in Australia.

On the east side of the lighthouse, there’s an outlook platform.  DY and the boys continued all the way down the stairs to the water’s edge.  I waited at the top, to rest my back.

I watched a lot of tourists with ice cream cones.  When the family returned, we drove back into central Byron Bay.

We had read good reviews of Fish Mongers, and were fortunate to find street parking nearby.  We took over a table outside the restaurant.

The interior diningroom was as informal as outside.  We placed our order at the counter, and waited for the waitress to deliver it to the table.

We ordered a large platter of fish with rice.  We had been in Australia long enough to appreciate the barramundi.

For six people, we also ordered the family platter, and another smaller plate.  Our sons declared this meal the best of our trip to Australia.

Continuing our travel towards Brisbane, the number of highway lanes gradually increased.  We drove through Surfer’s Paradise long enough to assess it as a cross between Waikiki and Las Vegas.  We arrived at our reserved apartment at Toowong just after sunset on the Saturday night.  We were surprised that grocery stores in the Brisbane area don’t open late on weekends.

I’ve read about drivers making the Sydney-Brisbane run in a single day, although most would take two.  Our three day plan allowed us to see some sights along the east coast of Australia that we’re unlikely to revisit as a family.

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The exterior of the restaurant was modest.  When I saw the short stools, I knew that we were in for a Beijing-style experience.

The tapestries on the wall seemed foreign to us as Southern Chinese.

Adam and Eric said that the grape leaves hanging from the ceiling mimicked a natural form of cooling in China.

Having left Beijing less than 2 weeks earlier, Eric led ordering from the menu.  We asked for the meat and the noodles to not be too spicy.

The dumplings were definitely a northern style.

We thought we need more food, and ordered the wraps.  They were bigger and spicier than we had expected.

There’s no doubt that the noodles are handmade and fresh.

Having finished lunch, we looked at the other restaurants in the plaza.  Across the way was a Noodle Bar … not to be confused with the Chinese Noodle Restaurant we had just left.

Then, there was a Dumpling Restaurant, although we had had dumplings in the Noodle Restaurant.

Finally, there was the Chinese Noodle House, not to be confused with the Chinese Noodle Restaurant.  Given enough time, we might have eventually tried all of them.

Chinatown is close to the city campus of the University of Technology Sydney, on Haymarket.  The clock tower is part of the Blake Library.

We looked through the glass doors of the library, but didn’t go in.

A few doors down, we found an open door and entered the building.  As we wandered around, we were entertained to find a vending machine with packaged meals, presumably for desperate students.

We didn’t see any students.  The courtyard was vacant.

The Market City building across the street takes up a whole block.

We wanted to continue westward, but the direction around the buildings wasn’t clear.

The elevated walk by the monorail seemed to lead to the right direction.

We were approaching the Powerhouse Museum from the back side.

The Powerhouse Museum specializes in science and design, in the remodeled former Ultimo Power House.

The museum is a complex of adjacent spaces.  The Boulton and Watt steam engine installed in 1785 in a brewery in Birmingham, England was removed from service and shipped to Sydney in 1888.

From the second floor, we had an overlook of some exhibits.

I wasn’t particularly interested in the pottery.  Our family wandered off to pursue different interests.

I sat by the inside playground watching kids crawling in and out of nooks.

When my sons showed up, they played with the pulls.  I expect they’re older than the target audience for the installation.

The museum was about to close, so we only got a few minutes in The Odditorium.  This temporary exhibit matched up a few “odd” items from storage, combined with labels by Shaun Tan, an author of picture books.  The Licorice Allsorts Shoe, a tricycle in the parade closing the 2000 Olympics, was labelled as “Guide Dog Testing Device 6″, with a description of a purpose of assessing abilities to retain composure under distraction.

With the sun setting, we walked back to Ultimo train station with a plan to explore an inner west suburb.   We thought that we were headed towards Newtown, and accidentally boarded an express train that skipped the station.  Some locals advised us on the direction back.  The Newtown station put us on King Street, where we wandered looking for a good restaurant alternative.

Thai Passion was a modest restaurant with high quality food.

Newtown is a suburban neighbourhood.  We’re not barflies, so there wasn’t much for us to do in the evening.

From the inner west suburbs, we rode the train back to the north shore, and packed to leave the next morning.  We had scheduled to pick up a minivan for the drive to Brisbane.

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It’s a bit of a walk from the train station to the ferry.  Constitution Road in Meadowbank offers little appeal for tourists.

We wended our way through residential areas to find a few signposts directing us to the wharf through the park.

Obviously, the way to the ferry would be down to the riverbank.

From Meadowbank on the north side of the Parramatta River, the south shore suburbs are a little farther than I would want to swim.

The ferry wharf was east along the waterfront walk.

Consulting the schedule, we had to wait about a half hour for the next ferry to arrive.

We discovered that the ferry that stops at Meadowvale is a local service with a route from Sydney Circular Quay doesn’t go all the way to Parramatta.  We would have to go to Rydalmere to transfer to another ferry with a route to the end of the line.

Since the weather was nice, we stood out on the deck to watch the scenery.  The south bank of the Parramatta River features both industrial docks and residential properties.

The multi-modal containers stacked up on the south shore suggest a rail-shipping intersection nearby.

We passed a ferry going downstream.  The shallow points in the river are marked with buoys.

After 25 minutes on the ferry, we docked at Rydalmere.  A few other people got off, presumably locals.

The wharf is near only light industrial and residential buildings in Rydalmere, away from the town centre.  We walked around a few blocks, eventually returning to the park to just sit and wait.

After 40 minutes, a ferry destined to Parramatta docked.

We arrived at the Parramatta ferry dock 20 minutes later.  It’s the end of the line for regular river transport from Sydney.

Disembarking the ferry, the town centre is a short walk west beyond the weir.

The sidewalk by the north bank is decorated with bush tucker (i.e. Australian aboriginal food) fish varieties.

We stopped by the Parramatta Heritage Centre for local maps.

The Heritage Centre has a display area where local exhibits periodically change.  The theme on our our visit was circuses.

To get to the central business district, we walked south on Church Street across the bridge.  The town centre seems to be relatively compact, walkable within a few blocks.

Church Street features covered sidewalks to shield its shoppers from the elements.

We turned down George Street and stopped briefly for lunch before continuing our journey.

An orange travelpass covers the ferry ride from Sydney to Parramatta, but ironically not the train on the same route.  For the wildlife park, we were advised by the ticket agent to take the train from the Parramatta railway station to Blacktown, and change for a bus.

At the Blacktown Station, we had yet another wait for the connection to Doonside.  It had been 5 hours since we left the hotel!

The Doonside bus driver is used to visitors taking this route.  He announced the stop for the Featherdale Wildlife Park.  We got off and walked across the street.

On a Tuesday at 3:00 p.m., the park wasn’t that busy.  With sunset expected around 5:00 p.m., we hoped that the animals would be active with the cooling temperature.

For much of the park, the animals run free within fenced areas.  They’re used to people being around.  Here’s a swamp wallaby.

I wouldn’t have thought that wallabees sit with their long tails forward.

There are stations where visitors can buy snacks for the animals.

The wallaby may expect food at the outreached hand, even when it’s not there.  It’s fortunate that they’re not vicious.

I spent a while watching the koalas.  These ones reminded me of old men.

The koala have a sleepy disposition, but it doesn’t mean that they can’t move when they want to move.

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I understand that the nutritional content in leaves is low, so the koalas have to eat steadily.

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Over in another covered area, we were able to touch to the koalas.  The handler encouraged us to feel the fur, and watched to rotate the koalas when they got tired.

There was a variety of kangaroos around, including one with a baby in her pouch.

The kangaroos aren’t shy at being offered food by visitors.

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We probably wouldn’t have gotten this close to the animals at the zoo.

The Southern Hairy Nosed Wombats were in a pen, and more interested in their food bowl than in visitors.  This is an endangered species.

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While we may associate these water-borne birds with Anarctica, the little penguin is indigenous to the south coast of Australia.

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With the sun gradually going down, the Tasmanian devils seemed anxious, and weren’t shy about showing off their teeth.

The pen was surrounded by people, where there are warnings that Tasmanian devils can be ferocious.

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The Eastern Wallaroos had a more colourful selection of food in their pans.

The peahens weren’t as interested in being fed.  With daylight waning, the park was being closed down.  We had to search to reconvene the family, as we were scattered all over the park.

We caught the bus back to Blacktown, and the train to Parramatta.  We knew that we should have dinner before getting back on the ferry boat to Sydney, and happened across Carne Station.  This was a good omen when travelling with four carnivorous sons.

The restaurant turned out to be a Korean buffet, where each of us could select our own raw meat from the cold trays.

The grills are built into the tables.  We’re accustomed to the self-service style of Korean barbeque.

Our sons had their fill of meats.  We also tried the salads, rice and desserts, watching the clock to make sure that we wouldn’t miss the ferry.

We arrived back at the ferry terminal with before the boat had docked.  We hadn’t noticed the boat-shaped installations on the plaza when we disembarked earlier in the day.

If we had to do the whole day over again, a better strategy would have been to take the train from Macquarie Park down into Sydney to catch the ferry from Circular Quay to Parramatta.  However, the routing enabled us to see some of the suburbs on the river banks between two destinations where tourists don’t go.  The primary purpose of our family vacation was to spend time together, so minor misdirection isn’t a tragedy.

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Looking west down the McElhone stairs was Woolloomooloo, and central Sydney beyond that.

We had mapped out a stroll to see the Sydney neighbourhoods, so we proceeded down the stairs.

Wended our way west and north, we approached Cowper Wharf across a wide roadway, on the edge of Potts Point.

The fleet headquarters for the Royal Australian Navy precludes direct access to the waterfront at this point.

Just west of that gate on the boulevard, there’s a landmark diner, Harry’s Cafe de Wheels, that has served meat pies and peas since 1945.  Most of us in the family are allergic to the milk products that go into the sauce and crust, but Adam and Diana were up for a mid-morning tasting.

Despite the mushy peas and gravy on top, the presentation is minimal with only a napkin and a fork.  For customers who need two hands free, there’s a ledge on the side of the truck.

We wandered south and west, looking for the pedestrian bridge to continue our walk west.  We found the stairs up by Wilson Street.

Climbing up to the top level on the footbridge, we looked back northeast to see the heights from whence we had walked.

Looking southeast, Woolloomooloo has a lower profile with residential and light industrial businesses.

If we hadn’t found the footbridge, we might have had a long walk trying to another crossing over the Eastern Distributor Motorway.

On the west side of the bridge, The Domain is large park with Sydney’s towers in the distance. We weren’t exactly sure where the Art Gallery of New South Wales would be.  Walking north and west, we found a clue with an outdoor sculpture of two large matches, one burned.  This installation titled “Almost Once“, by Brett Whitely, is on the southeast corner of the building.  We walked around to the north side of the building to find the main entry.

The traditional architecture of the facade at the front of the building opens up to a modern space.

I prefer contemporary art.  Upon seeing Ken Unsworth‘s 1994 “Rapture“, I knew that we had chosen a good destination for the afternoon.

The “Bugatti Type 35″ tilted by 30 degrees in 2006 by James Angus led us to walk circles around the piece.

The twists on the bottom of the car are even more striking that from the top view.

We were in time for a guided tour, and our family was the only interested parties.  Upon hearing that we were from Canada, our guide started with a historical context of Australian art, with John Glover leaving his native England for Australia in 1830.

Our guide was educational in describing how some of Australia’s history has been captured in its art.

Frederick McCubbin‘s 1896 painting “On the Wallaby Track” depicted a swagman travelling the outbook looking for work, setting up camp at the end of the day for his wife and child.

The 1899 painting by George W. Lambert titled “Across the Black Soil Plains” depicts a team of horses charging across the Australian countryside.

Tom Roberts‘ 1894 painting of “The Golden Fleece” (originally known as Shearing at Newstead), underscores the importance of sheep to the development of Australia.

Another painting by Tom Roberts in 1895 titled “Bailed Up” shows the lawlessness of the vast country in a stagecoach holdup by bushrangers.

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The dangers of mining were captured by Arthur Streeton in the 1891 “Fire’s On” (Lapstone Tunnel) in putting the railway through the Blue Mountains.

Jumping from historic Australia to the more contemporary 2003, Robert Owen‘s “Cadence No. 1” represents a mapping of the weather over an 80-day period.

Bronze Sculpture No. 714, installed near the Hyatt Regency in the City of Adelaide, is over 3 metres high.  It’s possible that more people see Robert Klippel‘s wooden prototype for Opus 714 in the gallery (even at a smaller scale).

Looking out the windows southwest from the gallery, we could see the wharf at Cowper Bay pier from where we had come.

Down from the main floor, on the wall of the stairwell is a large yellow neon installation by American artist Joseph Kosuch titled W.F.T #1 (yellow).  The was created in 2008, as an extension of “The Language of Equilbrium” installation at La Biennale di Venezia.  The Indo-European root branches out into Germanic, Latin and Greek.

We encountered a cluster of bee hives in the 1989 work of Australian artist Robert MacPherson, titled “20 Frog poems: distant thunder (a memorial) for D.M.“.

Touring the world, an Anish Kapoor installation of the 1989 “Void Field” was onsite when we were there.

Before the sun set, we wanted to check out another Sydney neighbourhood.  We jumped on a bus that took us west out of The Domain to the city centre, and then walked in some circles to get to the right bus stop to take us southeast on Oxford Street.  Randomly, we got off at William Street to walk back northwest.

The side streets are residential.  The covered walkway on the north side of the street provides a welcoming atmosphere.  Oxford Street curves to lead more directly west towards the city centre.

Diana looks for cheap chic, so we stopped in at the St. Vincent de Paul shop.  We thought that our sons might want to get some extra clothes for the Australian winter, but they didn’t see anything they liked.

We continued walking west, with some larger hotel and bank buildings ahead on Oxford Street.

The cafe bookstore would have been a leisurely place to hang out if we had weren’t so intent on moving on.

The south side of the Oxford Street around the Victoria Barracks lacks interest.  Further west, more shops line the south side.

Taylor Square is a major landmark where Oxford Street intersects with Flinders Street.

Although the large plaza in front of the Darlinghurst Courthouse was empty when we were there, Taylor Square would seem to be a hub for the the annual Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras festivities, as well as weekly Sustainable Markets for local farmers.

As we continued walking west on Oxford Street, the covering over the sidewalks resumed.

Before we reached Hyde Park, the neighbourhood north of Oxford Street gradually became more upscale.

We walked over to Chinatown to have dinner with dinner with the Metcalfs at Bbq King.  We had previously enjoyed the “duck hanging in the window” 1950s-era rice and noodles experience, so it was a reliable choice even just after our few days in Sydney.

After dinner, we all strolled along the pedestrian mall through Chinatown.  This was like home for us, and we pointed out familiar items in the Chinese bakeries and shops to our friends.

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Walking away from the ferry wharf, the pedestrian promenade to the beach is called The Corso.  On a Sunday morning in a Sydney winter, the benches were empty.

The children’s playground had a few climbing on the equipment.

Fountains emerging from the sidewalk would be more popular if more children were around.

After a short stroll, we arrived at Manly Beach, which faces northeast into the Tasman Sea.

Our sons, feeling the effects of jet lag, were happy to sit on the step and look out to the sea.

A hardy group of surfers dressed in wet suits were patient waiting for big waves.

Since I don’t surf, I don’t appreciate why some surfers will pick up a wave while others won’t.

A few surfers were obviously more skilled than others, riding all the way in to the beach.

Without summer heat, there wasn’t much of attraction for children to play in the sand.

We walked back across the Corso and happened to fall behind a group of surfers taking a break.  We browsed in a few shops, and stopped by the supermarket to pick up the makings of a picnic lunch.

While the intrepid might walk or bike up to North Head, we rode the bus.  I had previously visited the Quarantine Station when I visited Sydney in 2001, and it’s now become a commercial venture that requires reservations in advance.  At the top of the hill, we set up our picnic in North Head section of the Sydney Harbour National Park with a view southwest to central Sydney.

A little further to the east, South Head marks the other side of the mouth of Sydney Harbour.

Aside from the view, the other major attraction  in North Head is the National Artillery Museum.  With a modest admission fee for the family, we joined the guided tour.

The first building started with display of a simple cannon.

Shells used for coast guns from the 1930s to 1960s were presumably not volatile.

A Turkish mountain gun made in 1899 was used in World War I.

This Japanese battalion gun was used in New Guinea in World War II.

Mortars of this type were first used by the British in 1916, with small changes through the 1960s.

The Vickers Machine Gun was used in World War II.

Leaving the first building, the guide led out outside to the memorial.

This set of displays described the colonial wars.

Some military units were remembered on the brick walk.

Protecting Sydney Harbour, cannons aimed out to sea were platforms on this gun base.

Inside the gun base, the doors for loading area from the storage below were visible.

Our guide led us down a narrow set of stairs down into the gun base tunnels.

Racks of mockups of artillery shells are stacked up underground.

The shells would be hoisted from the tunnel to the surface.

The rooms were connected by a long series or narrow tunnels where two peoples would not easily pass.

Periodically, we passed vents that would bring air underground.

In the electrical room, a running generator would have been deafening.

The style of the meters tells of an older era of technology.

We left by a different exit than we had entered.

Above ground was a triangulator — essentially mirrors at each end of a long tube.

We entered another shed to see  anti-aircraft-guns.

Before the age of digital calculators, the Predictor was an analogue mechanical computer that would transmit the position of an aircraft target electrically.

In Australian slang, a furphy is a rumour or improbable story.  These originated with stories told by drivers of Furphy Water Carts in World War I.

At the end of our tour, we had a choice of waiting a long time for a bus, or walking partway downhill to the stop by the Quarantine Station.  We opted for the exercise.

The bus dropped us at the Manly Ferry Terminal.  The interior lobby is busy with shops.

We arrived in time to directly board the waiting ferry.

Leaving Manly, the trees of the north shore are a contrast to the urbanism on the south shore.

The crossing takes about 30 minutes.  As we approached Circular Quay, we passed an old lighthouse in the harbour.

Ferries pass directly by the Sydney Opera House.

Docked at Circular Quay, our ferry had the Sydney Harbour Bridge in the background.

To catch another neighbourhood before the sun set, we rode the city rail over to King’s Cross.  Victoria Street is a residential area of large houses with the Butler Stairs leading down.

Instead of following  the Butler Stairs down to to the working class Woolloomooloo neighbourhood, we continued in the upper level neighbourhood.

The King’s Cross neighbourhood is known for large houses that have been converted into backpacker hotels.

A few streets over, Macleay Street is more commercial.

Circling back towards to the station, Fitzroy Gardens is a large plaza with a bit of greenery.

The El Alamein Fountain on the plaza commemorates soldiers in World War II Egypt.

The King’s Cross police station at the edge of the Fitzroy Gardens keeps an eye on the neighbourhood.

We continued down Darlinghurst Road.  The area still bears some of the history as a red light district.

Just at sunset on a Sunday night, the area was still relatively quiet.

If we had been driving westbound up William Street into King’s Cross, we would have seen the landmark Coca-Cola Billboard on the rise.  It’s hard to miss.

For a real Australian-style burger, Burger Fuel is located under the billboard.

Diana and I sat at the counter.  An Australian burger is definitely a two-handed affair.

In the corner, our sons enjoyed the local version of a carnivorous feast.

From the counter, we could see the well-designed assembly station, with a bun toaster and bags marked for each of the variations.

The sun had fully set by the time we finished dinner.  We headed back to the train station on Victoria Avenue.

The escalator down to the train at King’s Cross station still has the wooden treads of another era.

We had had a long day with a full tour of the north shore, crossing the harbour south for dinner.  To see more of the neighbourhood, we would have to return another day.

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There was a broad selection of didgeridoos, which our sons didn’t recognize.

The shopkeeper accommodated us with a demonstration.

The pots and paintings were interesting, but not the style likely for our livingroom.

Taking a print back on  plane might have been manageable, if we wanted to carry a packing tube.

Coming out of the basement storefront, we walked back into the brilliant sunlight.

Wynyard Park was shaded by trees and surrounded by high rise towers.

In the square, the statue of John Dunmore Lang commemorates a prominent 19th century Presbyterian clergyman.

Meandering north, St. Philip’s Church was on our way through Church Hill.

St. Philip’s wasn’t active on a Saturday morning.

Wending our way towards The Rocks, the path took us by the sideroad beside the Cahill Expressway.  In Sydney, public works seem to continue on Saturdays.

The pub outside the Australian Hotel might have been good for people-watching, but it was too early in the day.

Around the corner, we saw we were approaching  The Rocks … when we could find a path down to Harrington Street

We had a good view of the roofs near the Rocks.

A long flight of stairs down by Susannah Place seemed to be the most direct way.

In The Rocks, Argyle Street has kiosks set up for weekend market.

We found Brent, Amanda and Hayden.  The boy wasn’t used to hanging out with a family of four sons.

Noah was shopping for genuine Ugg boots as gifts, and Brent suggested The Rocks Hatters as reputable.

The Rocks Market has kiosks with shopkeepers hawking jewellery and gifts.

With our suitcases packed for three weeks of travel, we weren’t really in the buying mood.  Still, a market atmosphere is always fun.

Diana and Brent caught up on news.  They had just recently reconnected on Facebook for the first time since 1984, when Diana and I moved from Vancouver.

In the courtyard pub at the Orient Hotel, we had a lunch sampling the local cuisine.

Our sons swapped around the dishes to try the lamb sausages and the battered fish.

Hayden wouldn’t enjoy our afternoon of continuous walking, so we said goodbye for the day.

Our family wandered back through a maze of buildings packed tightly together in the Hospital Precinct.

By the Sydney City Mission, we took the stairs up.

Approaching Susannah Place on the terrace from the back side, we stopped briefly at the corner store, but didn’t tour 19th century working class life.

There’s a pedestrian entry up to the Sydney Harbour Bridge that gives free access to a view by the roadway.  The stairs up are past the storefront for the Bridge Climb where visitors can get wired up to climb the arches.

On the ascent, there’s a view of an arch into park by the Sydney Observatory.

The top of the stairs open up to a plaza.  The last flight of steps had a group of tourists resting.

Visitors can walk up to the edge of the roadway by the south entrance of the bridge, where there are barricades to keep people safe.

The pedestrian walk across the Sydney Harbour is on the east side of the bridge.  The west side is supposed to have a cycle path that we didn’t see.

Looking farther east, the Glenmore Hotel has a prominent sign for accommodations with a great view of the harbour.

The Sydney Opera House is to the east, beyond The Rocks, at Circular Quay.

From the Sydney Harbour Bridge, a really long telephoto lens gives the iconic image with a from a higher perspective than from the water’s edge.

Back down the stairs, we looked meandered towards base of the bridge.  We passed by an overlook of the tents of the kiosks of The Rocks Market that we had toured earlier.

The most direct route took us through old buildings that have been renovated into shops and restaurants, down to Hickson Road.

From the lawn under the Sydney Harbour Bridge, we could see the tourists on the Bridge Climb.  We had satisfied ourselves that the stairs are enough.

We walked over to Circular Quay West, and paused for a moment on the wharf, with the Opera House in the background.

On this side of the Circular Quay are steps up to the renovated buildings with shops