Sydney, through the eyes of a new arrival
OPINION
With a camera in hand, a Cheshire Cat grin and a fresh coat of sunscreen, I made my way to Sydney’s dazzling Harbour. I was the perfect tourist. I’d only been in the city for 24 hours and had a whole year to explore, but I was nauseatingly excited to see the Opera House.
It’s Sydney’s icon. Australia’s even. It’s what you see in all the brochures and in those addictive TV shows about making a better life for yourself ‘down under’. I’d flown over 17,000 kilometers from London and it was only until I laid my eyes on this beautifully overzealous building did it hit me that – hell, yes – I was in Australia.
As I pulled Facebook-worthy poses at the harbour, I got chatting to a local Sydney couple who were moving to some unpronounceable outback town in a few weeks. Having lived in this thriving city all their lives, this was their first ever time visiting The Opera House. Shock, horror. Understandable, actually.
Sure, I was slightly appalled at first: how can you live in such an amazing city and never go its star attraction?! Then, I asked myself how many times I’ve phoned up a friend on a Saturday morning and insisted we go to Big Ben. Never.
It has become easy – too easy – to forget about where we live and why we love it. In the daily grind of nine-to-five, the Opera House becomes nothing but a big white blur in the background of your commute.
And it doesn’t stop there. When was the last time you walked across the Harbour Bridge or gazed out over the twinkling reflection of the cityscape from a Darling Harbour restaurant, instead of just grabbing a Dominos cheap Tuesday deal?
I’m not innocent in all of this, (especially because I’m impartial to a pizza). Sydney was a maze of wonder when I first arrived; every corner I turned led either to escapism at the Botanic Gardens or Chinese Garden of Friendship, or thrust me into a forgotten city down the lanes of The Rocks. Importantly, there was always a new pub to try. Even if it was in Kings Cross.
Months later I’ve gone from Outsider to Sydneysider. I have a routine. I have a designated seat at my local, the takeaway next door knows my name and I can’t even remember the last time I wandered up an unknown road just to see where it led.
With this new found status, I’ve lost the excitement I had for the city – and not because its changed. It’s still the same place that thrilled me months ago, but I’ve started taking it for granted. As a Sydney resident, the city should be my playground.
On the occasions I’ve had to haul myself to Circular Quay and provide a whistle-stop tour for a visiting friend, I’ve loved it. I become that excited outsider again.
If all it takes are a pair of fresh eyes to recapture the forgotten romance with Sydney, feel free to borrow mine. Because, I’ve decided to reclaim the “outsider” label.
It’s not that I’m ungrateful for the embracing welcome I’ve had in becoming a local. As an outsider though, I’m constantly reminded that the Opera House is magnificent, the Harbour Bridge is colossal, that the city I live in is amazing. That the city we live in is amazing.
By Punam Vyas
