"THE POSTCARD" a Sydney Travel Page by ccvisit

Send Photo to a Friend

THE POSTCARD

Looking...

My friends and I landed in Sydney in the early morning hours of August 25th, but our Australian adventure really started way back sometime in March. That’s when Kathy (one of my travel partners), received a post—no--THE Postcard. The postcard was your basic montage of Sydney sights, from the Opera House to the Harbour Bridge, etc. Significance? Well, the postcard was from Angelo, the man that Kathy would later declare on our trip is the love of her life. Can you imagine that? Is there such a thing? Was it mere coincidence that Kathy and I were planning on visiting Australia prior to the postcard’s arrival?

So, a little history: To say Kathy and Angelo had this tempestuous relationship is an understatement. Let’s just leave it at that. But for all their “tempestuousness,” these crazy kids managed to stay together for nearly five years and even start talking about marriage. Long story short, they breakup—badly. I’m talking taking each other to court badly. Three years pass without a word from either of them, until Angelo writes her a postcard. Essentially, he’s in Sydney, managing a B&B. He’s been thinking about her lately and wishes things ended differently between them. But he doesn’t leave a return address. Just that he’s in the sprawling city of Sydney, Australia, New South Wales, Southern Hemisphere. Big place to look for someone.

Fast forward to August. We’re on a Qantas 747, cramped in the “main” cabin, where the flight attendant stoically announces that we are to use only the facilities in our own cabin “for safety reasons.” It really means stay the hell out of first class. Siu (our other travel partner) asks Kathy if she’s going to try and find Angelo. Kathy says she doesn’t know. She’s not sure if she’s ready, what if he’s involved, married, basically happy WITHOUT her. Kathy is doubtful, but I catch Siu’s eye. We’re in agreement. We are sooo looking for Angelo.

Our tour package has us staying at the Crowne Plaza in Darling Harbour which placed us within walking distance to half the tourist sites in Sydney, from Cockle Bay, Chinatown and the Star Casino, Sydney’s one and only Casino (and on my list of things to do). Was there a B&B there, I wonder.

Our first day we have breakfast in Chinatown. We sleep till it’s time for dinner, although I suspect we could have slept through the entire night. The concierge, Scott (we miss him to this day), suggests a restaurant called Blue Fish in Cockle Bay. We step out in our first Sydney night, and the air is charged. Would we run into Angelo tonight? Does he dine in restaurants at Darling Harbour? What if he’s not a manager at a b&b, but a janitor—not that there’s anything wrong with that! What if we do see him and he’s on a date! We begin to walk and cross streets at our own peril, looking both directions since we’re discombobulated and we’re not sure which way the traffic is coming from. With feigned nonchalance, Kathy wonders out loud if we’d run into Angelo and wouldn’t that be funny. Nervous laughter.

Blue Fish isn’t all that busy. Right outside the restaurant’s al fresco dining perimeter is a menu. We review it, but as in most of the eating establishments we ran into during our short stay in Australia, there is a designated person standing right by the menu ready to convince you to stay and enjoy the food. We’re jet lagged and we can’t seem to say no to such an earnest invitation.

Our waiter’s name was Jozef. Definitely not Australian, but spoke with a European accent. Apparently he was flirting, but we were all too jet lagged and tired to notice. Needless to say, we’re still kicking ourselves for not using the flirtation to our advantage, mainly get the low-down on how to enjoy Sydney like a local.

The next day we tour Sydney on one of those behemoth buses where the driver is also your tour guide. We make our way to the Sydney Opera House. It seems unreal. I’ve seen the Opera House only in pictures and in Karaoke clips where an actress is told to look forlornly out onto Jackson Bay from the steps of the Opera House. Funny, I found Kathy looking forlornly out into Jackson Bay from the steps of the Opera House. I felt like I should be singing “Unbreak My Heart.”

Send Photo to a Friend

KATHY'S "ALONE TIME"

We move through the Rocks as we make our way up the corner of George St. and Argyle to begin our trek to the Bridge Climb. But wait. Right on that corner is a b&b. Could this be it? We look through the windows. It’s a restaurant and bar downstairs. There’s a dark-haired man behind the bar who could pass for an Italian-Greek, but…alas. He turns to face our direction. We quickly look elsewhere but the bar. It’s not Angelo.

To the Bridge Climb. We’re scheduled for the 4:45 tour. I doth complain much. I’m not sure if this is a good idea at all and I say so. The warnings say one should be moderately healthy. I am sooo not moderately healthy. Our guide, Ronan, was funny and entertaining. The climb itself was exhilarating and definitely unforgettable. We started out at dusk but when we get to the top, no sign of the day is present and Sydney has turned on it’s lights for a beautiful show. Ronan tells us to scream Hurrah! at the top of our lungs as celebration for making it to the top of the Bridge. Siu quickly suggests we yell out Angelo!!!

“ANGELOOOO!!!”

The next day, we tour the Blue Mountains and the Three Sisters. No sign of Angelo. Nope. He’s not with the Three Sisters. From the Olympic Park we leave our tour bus behind to take the ferry back to Circular Quay. Siu has been salivating all day to hit up the Gucci store on George St. All is well until Kathy says she needs to be by herself. She’s been crying. I’m uncomfortable at this point. I don’t do well with crying. Should I hug, say something wise? Clever? I do the best I can. I pat Kathy on the shoulder, ask her if she’s okay, and tell her I’m going with Siu to the Gucci store. Hey…she needed time alone she said.

That night back at our hotel, we find that Kathy actually brought the postcard with her! And…there’s a postal code!!! She quickly enlists the help of Scott, the coolest concierge ever. Kathy asks for a phone book. Scott pulls out 2 phone books. Kathy looks at them with confusion. She doesn’t know where to start. Scott, the consummate professional, calmly states, “It’s in either A-K, or M-Z.” Oh right right, Kathy laughs. The postal number denotes a town about ˝ hour from Sydney called Strathfield. There is one bed and breakfast listed. Coopers of Strathfield. Kathy jots down the number and in the room stares at it. Siu takes it from her and declares that she is calling. We all hold our breath. There’s no answer!!!

Saturday was our last night in Sydney. Still no Angelo. I’ve given up hope. We start telling ourselves it’s not meant to be. Well, it wasn’t meant to be that Kathy find Angelo in Sydney. We never did find him there, but Kathy did get up the nerve to email him. At bout 2am, Sunday she emails him, essentially going all balls out, declaring “You are the love of my life.”

A couple of weeks after returning home from Australia, Kathy calls me excitedly. Angelo emailed back! He wasn’t in Strathfield. He was working at the Chelsea guest house in Darlinghurst. And he wasn’t even in Sydney at the time! Unfortunately, he was attending to some family matters in Greece. Angelo basically echoes the same declarations / revelations for Kathy. She’s been on his mind on a daily basis. He compares her to each girl he’s gone out with since. He’s ready to start a family.

Initially, Angelo asks if he can see Kathy while he’s on business in California, but he can’t quite get away, so he invites her to visit him in Greece instead. So, what started as our quest to find Angelo in Sydney continues in Greece this October (2004), but Kathy will be taking this trip all by herself, and she’ll have to do all the finding herself. I'm just taking her to the airport.