up, up, away
Remember when I said I love Sydney? Well I'm quite chuffed because this weekend I'm off to the unofficial Aussie capital again for a little pre-Christmas sojourn.
This aerial shot is not of Sydney, but I took it the last time I was on a plane. The scene depicts the Gold Coast, which I flew into and over when I experienced some splendour in the grass earlier this year.
On my last visit to Sydney - which was in fact exactly one year ago - I ran amok in the intoxicatingly vibrant Kings Cross, reconnected with my inner bohemian at the Glebe market, did the tourist thing at the House and the Bridge, spotted Kanye (complete with heavy-set entourage) on the streets of the CBD and pretended I was a rich person at The Rocks. All of which with my very adventurous sister in tow. Here she is walking down one of the many streets in Sydney that exist to me only as a memory rather than a definable location:
This time around I intend to laze in the Botanical Gardens, get all cultured at some (hopefully free) galleries, take trains and buses and legs on the trek out to Bondi, hang out with the ultra-cool indie kids at Oxford St and lose my shit at the Lomo store in Paddington. Most of the time, I imagine, this guy will be my worthy companion:
Oh, and I will also debut my gorgeous-looking, spanking-new hot pink Diana, in conjunction with my trusty Holga, in order to hopefully get a nice selection of two-dimensional keepsakes.
Maybe next year I'll try somewhere new, but for now it's all about Melbourne's perky blonde sister.