Sydney exposed
Katherine Granich makes a quick trip to Sydney for
business, a spot of shopping, and some sightseeing. The 5,202 naked
people she encountered were not a scheduled feature on the
itinerary.
You don't hop across the ditch expecting that after
spending a mere four days in Sydney, you'll swear you've never seen
so many naked people in your life. I saw approximately 5,202 nude
bodies - one the first day, none the second day (thank goodness),
one the third day, and a whopping 5,200 on the last day, just a few
hours before staggering, half-blind and speechless, onto my flight
back to safe, covered-up Auckland.
The purpose of the weekend was dual
- work and play. Our managing director Angela Pedersen and myself,
accompanied by her then-eight-month-old son Jesse, had booked
tickets to the Sydney Kids in Style trade show, where importers and
retailers across Australasia convene to show off what's new in
children's clothing, furniture, and accessories. While we were
there, we decided we'd visit a few Australian clients, and do a bit
of sightseeing. And boy, did we ever see the sights.
We arrived in Sydney on an unassuming Friday, picking up our rental
car at the airport and plunging car-first into the insanity of
Sydney city traffic. Our home base for the weekend was Quay West
Suites Sydney (www.mirvachotels.com), located in the historic The
Rocks precinct adjacent to Sydney Harbour and Circular Quay. Our
two-bedroom suite was the perfect size for two mums and a baby,
with a sitting room and kitchen, laundry, and room service (a
blessing when you've been out all day and don't have the
energy to face a restaurant for dinner). The hotel also
boasted a spa, sauna, gym, and swimming pool.
Our sitting room had an amazing view of Sydney Harbour, with the
Opera House to our right and the Sydney Harbour Bridge to our left.
At night, the lights from the bridge sparkled on the water, and the
Opera House was illuminated, a glowing beacon. I felt like I'd
stepped into a postcard.
Our first day was business as usual,
attending Kids in Style, navigating Sydney in a rental car with a
very dodgy GPS, and visiting clients in the Surry Hills area. Late
in the afternoon, we returned our car to the hotel and walked down
to George Street, the main shopping street in downtown Sydney. The
Queen Victoria Building (www.qvb.com.au) was our destination.
Completed in 1898, it replaced the original Sydney markets and
served as a monument to the long-reigning monarch. The QVB features
beautiful architecture, charming exhibitions, and over 160 stores
and cafes spread over five floors. Of particular note are The
Cupcake Bakery (www.thecupcakebakery.com.au) on level 1, Little
Voice (www.littlevoice.com.au), a luscious children's store
on level 2, and The Metropolitan Museum of Art Store
(www.themetstore.com.au) on level 2, with treasures and souvenirs
from the famous New York art gallery.
We headed back to the hotel and ordered in
room service before heading off for bed. And that's when I was
first exposed to the naked side of Sydney. As I was closing the
drapes to my bedroom, I happened to glance across at the hotel next
door, straight into the well-lit room of a middle-aged man who was
standing at his window completely nude, gazing across the
glittering harbour. I yanked the curtains shut and vowed not to
open them again for the rest of the weekend.
After a few client catch-ups first
thing on Saturday morning, we headed to The Rocks Markets
(www.therocks.com), which runs from 10am to 5pm on weekends at
Playfair and George Streets. This a must if you're staying in the
area. After gorging ourselves on gourmet pastries, we headed across
to the Museum of Contemporary Art (www.mca.com.au), situated on the
Sydney Harbour foreshore at West Circular Quay. Admission is free,
and it was a thrill to view some original Keith Haring and Andy
Warhol paintings in the JW Power Collection.
Next stop was the Sydney Opera House
(www.sydneyoperahouse.com). A variety of daily tours are available,
and you can even go backstage for the princely sum of $155, which
includes breakfast in the Green Room. Bookings are essential and
you must wear flat, enclosed, soled shoes, so don't rock up in your
flip-flops.
There are a number of atmospheric
restaurants, bars, and trendy cafés at the Opera House, and the
Sidewalk Café (www.sidewalktheatrebars.com.au) was the perfect
location for an alfresco lunch. The views were stunning and it was
hard to believe we were only a few hours from Auckland, sitting
outside a culturally significant World Heritage Site. We could even
see our hotel in the near-distance, beckoning us home for an early
evening. True to my word, I kept the drapes of my bedroom closed
lest my eyes be offended by a second view of my naked
neighbour.
Our third day in Sydney proved to be the
most adventurous, as we decided to make our way to Ikea Homebush
Bay Drive (www.ikea.com.au), that mecca of inexpensive and
über-cool homewares. Unfortunately, our dodgy GPS failed us at the
beginning of the journey. Never mind, we said, brandishing
directions copied from the internet. How hard could it be?
After driving for what seemed like hours,
we eventually determined we were lost. We aren't quite sure how we
managed to end up at the Westfeld Bondi Junction
(www.westfeld.com.au/bondijunction), where we clearly needed to
stop for a couple of hours' browsing before continuing to our
original destination (Ikea is open until 7pm on the weekends and
9pm on weekdays, so we weren't in a huge hurry). I'm not sure why
malls are always better overseas, but the hours we spent in David
Jones and Myer were well worth it. The selection of kids' clothing
in Australia is amazing!
Lunch was needed before getting back on
the road. We chose a café and sat down to wait. And then my second
experience of "indecent exposure" occurred, in the form of the
extremely handsome waiter who came to take our order. As he flashed
a knee-weakening grin and turned to get our drinks, I found my eyes
level with his bottom - his bare bottom, that is. About four inches
of it. The poor guy's shorts - and undershorts, it appeared - were
in need of a belt, and his shirt had ridden up his back, leaving
his assets on view for all to see. Lest I be accused of ogling, I
quickly elbowed Angela and forced her to look too. Then, of course,
neither of us could make eye contact with our waiter for the
remainder of our lunch. We gobbled our food hastily and got out of
there as fast as we could, giggling like schoolgirls.
Armed with a map book from Borders, we set
off, this time on the right road to Ikea. The parking situation was
a bit of a nightmare, as Ikea is located at Rhodes Shopping Centre
(www.rhodesshoppingcentre.com.au), and we drove around the
underground carpark for half-an-hour before we found a spot to
park.
I could write a whole other story about
Ikea, I love it so much. We were there for hours. We bought so
much, we had to pay for excess baggage on the flight home. Enough
said.
The Monday we were to leave I was awakened
way too early by an insistent rapping on my bedroom door. It was
Angela, up at some ungodly hour, insisting that I come out into the
sitting room immediately. "You've got to see this!" she hissed.
"There are thousands of naked people at the Opera House!"
Stumbling in the half-dark toward the
sitting room windows, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. A
massive crowd of people - 5,200 of them, completely and utterly in
the buff - were sitting, standing, laying down, embracing, and
posing on the steps of the Opera House, sometimes in unison,
sometimes simply milling around as if waiting to be told what to
do. It was fascinating. We switched on the news to find out what
was going on - did a group of Sydneysiders convene every Monday
morning for a quick bit of naked conversation and a coffee? No, it
was an artistic endeavour, as they were posing for photographs by
the famous photographer Spencer Tunick, known for his images of
crowds of nude people in public places. I had a hard time tearing
my eyes away from the scene outside my window, except to shift my
attention to the TV news, which was presented live by what appeared
to be a naked reporter. Those Aussies. They'll get their kit off
for anything, even on TV.
Getting dressed and packed for the airport
an hour later, I risked a peek out of my bedroom window. My
neighbour's window was curtained and dark. He was probably down at
the Opera House, with the waiter from the café.
Katherine Granich is the
former editor of OHbaby! Magazine and loves to travel. She has
never seen any naked people in any other cities she's travelled to,
ever.
As seen in OHbaby!
magazine Issue 11: 2010
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