Day Three: Sydney

My day started at 4:00 this morning, as I have finally accepted defeat on adjusting to local time. But I actually don't mind waking up that early: I have plenty of time to plan my day, send off emails, and I avoid the evening rush hour on the train. It is that damn early sunset, as it isn't even 6:00 PM local time and it is already pitch black outside. My body can't believe that it is early in the day, or that it is winter, so I've been finding myself passing out at 7:00. Yep, I'm going wild in Sydney.

I was going to go to the Olympic Park today, but then I decided that since I have an appointment to go back and do research tomorrow, that I would just make a day of it then, and spend today relaxing a bit. I decided to get some breakfast down by Circular Quay, so I walked down to the train station only to find that I had picked the worst time of day to catch a train. I had arrived during the 8:30 rush hour, as hordes of sharply dressed people packed the platform with me.

I was actually quite happy that there was a crowd, as it meant that I had the opportunity to people watch. Bopping away to the Shins, I took notes on some scrap paper about the people around me; what I noticed was that everyone was dressed in boring but classy black clothing, and seemed to have no personality whatsoever. Oh, Sydneysiders - because they have it all figured out, they have no distinguishable characteristics.

Once the first train came and went (there was literally no room as people were pressing up very uncomfortably against one another) most of the people on the platform had to pass up the sardine can and wait for the next train, which at least you could stand in without feeling like you were sharing an intimate moment with the person next to you. After most of the riders got off at Central and Town Hall, I actually got my own seat, and rode comfortably on to Circular Quay, where I found a nice little outdoor cafe to have some mediocre eggs with cheese and tomato with white toast and espresso. I thought the experience really summed up my food experience thus far in Sydney, although I admit I've only purchased four meals since my arrival. The food selection is very strange, very English, and for the most part, meh. I have yet to get any sushi or Thai, so I'll keep my mind open and make judgments later.

I kind of lied earlier, because it was at that moment eating my meh breakfast when I saw that across the street was the Royal Botanical Gardens. While I originally intended to take the ferry to the aquarium or the Olympic Park, the garden was taunting me with a beautiful sculpture, and I knew what I had to do. I paid for breakfast and quickly hopped across the street to see this incredible sight. It was a beautiful fountain, of which I kind of read what is was erected for, but I was too taken aback by the artistry and was letting my camera do my thinking for me. Seeing this work of art juxtaposed against the Sydney skyline was just an amazing sight, and I was instantly hooked into exploring the gardens for the day.

I was very surprised at the amount of bats in the park. They were everywhere, making it hard for me to look up into some of the trees. Call me crazy, but I really didn't like looking up at those beady little black eyes, knowing that at any moment I could have a furry little animal dive-bombing for my head. But you know, between the bats, some little animal trying to take a bite out of my knee when I was taking a picture, and all of the birds and ducks hanging out, I really felt like I was away from the city, which was great. The plants were also impressive, but my favorite section would have to be the succulent garden. While simple, the color was beautiful, and they were really some of the only flowering plants in the whole garden, besides a sparse flower here or there.

After I wandered around the garden for a few hours, I decided to hop over to the art museum, which is right across the street. What a great choice. First, the art museums in Sydney are free. Yes, free. I was expecting to get the shake-down when I walked in the door, but I was surprised instead to see a bustling museum. There were people everywhere, from gray haired museum junkies, to young couples, and my favorite, a large group of school children dressed in matching blue sweat suits. I think it had to be one of the cutest things I have ever seen. They wandered around in groups of about 7 and got lessons about art from volunteers. What a fabulous place. There was even a group of older school kids who were getting a lecture about post-modernism on the upper level: it was such a stimulating place that I looked at every single exhibit housed under the roof.

While there were a few notable classical paintings, the real gem was the Islamic art exhibition. While that one exhibit did cost a few bucks to get in, it was well worth the money, as it had to be one of the best collections I have ever seen. I saw everything from a mini Abassid caliphate Qur'an from the 10th century, the only known Qur'an to be dyed in Indigo, Iranian rugs and bowls, and a warrior's mask, to panels that had decorated the Ka'ba, amazing atsrolabes with sanskrit translations and Persian poetry inscribed on them, and emerald, ruby, and diamond encrusted daggers. There was lustreware, glassware, and silk tapestries. There were manuscripts from the Mongol Empire which depict such events as Buddha reaching enlightenment, Jonah being eaten by the whale, and Moses punishing those who worshiped the golden calf. There were tiles with Surrahs painted onto them with the same stencils used on the Dome of the Rock, elephant shaped incense burners, and gold saddles that were used in battle. It was breathtaking. At one point I stood in front of the panel that had hung on the Ka'ba and froze. This panel hung on one of the most sacred monuments in the world. Thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, or possibly millions of people came during the Hajj just to touch and circle the Ka'ba from which this panel was hung.

These kinds of exhibitions are why I am a museum rat. To sit there and look at a Qur'an that is over 1,000 years old, made from vellum and created by hand, is absolutely stunning. It forced me to contrast what I had seen within the Islamic exhibit to the modern art in other parts of the museum: while modern art is no doubt creative, all it seeks to do anymore is stun. It tries too hard to grab your attention, and is created by people who are no doubt creative visionaries, but visionaries with questionable talent. The artists of old were craftsmen who were true masters of their chosen medium, whether it be calligraphy, metal smithing, painting, or sculpting, who combined their talent with creativity to create beautiful objects that stop you in your tracks with their beauty. I can't help but feel that we have lost that long ago in the art world, and I hope that some talent emerges to take modern art out of its funk sooner than later.