Day 3 - Hello Sydney!

There's an automated passport check at Sydney airport. Insert your passport, collect the ticket and then move on to the next station where you stand on the footprints and have your picture taken. Normally I am the one who is stopped and frisked in airports, but today I zip zap through and head to baggage collection, pausing only momentarily to read the poster about the symptoms of the zika virus. Included amongst the symptoms are sweaty fever and bloodshot eyes. Meanwhile, my beloved has not appeared but due to checking in to Party Central on the plane he has the appearance of several of the symptoms of the zika virus.

Eventually he arrives - apparently the automated passport check just can't cope with sweaty chubsters in specs! Out in the arrivals area we have a moment's panic when there is no sign of our friends, Nick and Jane. A quick ring to the only mobiles I have for them (their England ones obviously) and no, I don't have their address - and then they appear, all hugs and smiles and we're on our way to their lovely flat in Mosman.

Even though we've only just had breakfast on the plane, it's actually supper time in Sydney and the challenge is to go to bed at an appropriate time so that the body clock rights itself. My solution? Stay up till 1.00 am and take a sleeping pill. Luckily I have lots of gossip to catch up on and tennis on the telly so it's no hardship. Meanwhile, the one who had partied all night on the plane is out for the count!

Our first proper day in Sydney is a scorcher. We head down for an early coffee with son Ben whose bedroom we have appropriated, then it's off on the ferry from Manly to Watsons Bay. Nice walk up to some of the amazing viewing points of the ocean and then a drink and some fabulous fish at the legendary Doyle's. Last time we were here was some 30 years ago and it hasn't changed. It's great to sit on the pavement outside and eat fantastically fresh fish in the sunshine listening to the waves lapping on the sand. There were a series of letters in the Telegraph a while ago about finding an appropriate onomatopoeic word for the sound the sea makes as it sucks the sand back into the ocean - can't remember what those folks who write to the Telegraph came up with but it's a truly great backing track to life on the shores of Sydney harbour.

Wednesday night saw us taking the ferry into the centre of Sydney - the best way to see the city is undoubtedly from the water - and going for a drink at the Opera Bar. Young and buzzing, it's almost under the eves of the Opera House and looking across to Harbour Bridge. You have to pinch yourself - we are really here!

Life here starts early (when it's cool enough to do stuff in the summer) and for fellow middle-agers like us it finishes early too. So quick pasta/pizza and it's back to Mosman with just time to check on British progress in Melbourne before bed. Think my body is on Aussie time now.

Zzzzzzzzz....