Pligget

So about this first visit to the southern hemisphere:

I was lucky to have enough time to do a whirlwind tour of the city, and managed to squeeze off 174 photos before my camera memory ran out. It has to be said that about 40 of them were of the Opera House. In the end I conceded that there just isn't a best view of it - it looks amazing from every angle.

Given that Sydney must be one of the most photographed cities in the world, and the best-known of its landmarks are iconic, I've included a few samples which might be a fresh view for one or two of you.

First, an advert for Sydney's welcoming atmosphere. Botanic Gardeners of the world take note:

Being midwinter, the sun set around 5pm. Fortunately I had my trusty pocket tripod with me (a snip at £6.99 from Jessops!) and was able to keep snapping well into the night:

That last one of Darling Harbour was taken when I was feeling totally euphoric. That day I'd walked through the Botanical Gardens, bought pressies for my loved ones (including me), been to the top of the Sydney Tower, and had a fabulous swordfish steak on the quay at Darling Harbour as the sun set. The photo was taken at about 7pm after I'd just been for a 3D ride in the International Space Station (courtesy of the Imax cinema). I came out of the cinema onto the quayside, listening to Comfortably Numb on my new Ipod, and saw Darling Harbour at night. I hurriedly took a few snaps as I knew I was on my way back to the Opera House Drama Theatre to see Proof. The combination of recent experiences, current sensations and anticipation of the evening ahead was almost too much to take.

It was the best day I have ever spent on my own.

The last photo I took involved waiting an hour and a half at the window of the Quantas lounge at the airport. The tail of the BA 747 had been blocking my view of the city skyline while it was parked at the departure gate. It took an age to embark everyone and finally back away from the terminal, and then another age queueing to take off.

An enduring memory of Oz: While I was waiting for the 747 to move, I made several trips to the bar. Unlike every other lounge I've been to, where you can help yourself to little bottles or cans of beer, Quantas had had the forethought to provide beer pumps. On about the third visit, I arrived at the counter just as a distinguished-looking gent in a smart suit was choosing between the champagne and the Australian fizz. When he noticed the beer pumps, he gave me a nudge and said: "Hey, that's Ripper!"