I think I've fallen a bit behind here, haven't I? We cashed in a credit card promo for four nights at the absolutely incredible Park Hyatt Sydney, right on the harbor, and it's hard to write when you're too busy pretending to be the king of some imaginary country. Walking into our room instantly melted away the tensions built up over the course of three hours on a plane next to screaming two-year-old twins, and travelling for your anniversary definitely has its perks. We were upgraded to a room with an amazing view and they even sent a complimentary bottle of champagne up for us! Everyone here is dressed to the nines, so we got to feel even more like hobos than usual as we were guided to the elevators in travel clothes with dirt-drenched backpacks. But hey, if you want to deter the riff-raff you shouldn't be doling out bonus awards nights on $1,000 rooms! Brittany had a blast exploring our uncharacteristically amazing digs. We have a Japanese toilet! And to make it even more amazing, there is a phone at the toilet. Who doesn't think, "I should really give my Mom a call" while sitting on the commode? Alas, it can now be done, and in heated-seat comfort to boot. We sipped champagne while taking in the Opera House from our balcony. The weather has been (and is forecasted to be) pretty terrible for our entire visit to Sydney, but the Opera House's beauty wasn't lost on me. Brittany is a different story. The most complimentary adjective she chose to describe it was "ugly". I was a bit flabbergasted myself, but she has yet to relent and genuinely doesn't care for it at all. Granted, the sky is gray and dreary so the sail-like roofs don't shine and gleam like they should, but even so, who can consider this ugly??? There's no doubt it has an unmistakably eighties vibe, and it isn't at all as magnificent as I expected it to be. When it comes to national icons the Eiffel Tower still reigns supreme. Still, I could sit outside and stare at it for hours. The real stunner here is the Sydney Harbor Bridge, taken in by the same view as the Opera House. In one enchanting panorama you can be simultaneously enthralled by city skyscrapers, centuries old brick buildings, the Opera House, the bridge, and the harbor itself with its never ending supply of traversing yachts and ferries. A mesmerizing assembly of bluish-gray iron, the bridge was built in the 1930's and immediately calls to mind the (only slightly) more grand Brooklyn Bridge. As soon as I saw it I knew we'd have to walk across, and Brittany is particularly taken with its metallic charm. These kinds of structures sigh and moan with history in a way that demands exploration; there's no ignoring it. We were so elated with the hotel and the view that even the crummy rain couldn't bring us down. Mostly full on champagne and (free) chocolates we walked just a little ways to Circular Quay Station for a late dinner. I think "Quay" is one of those weird words that people use just to make foreigners feel extra stupid. We thought we'd finally settled on the correct pronunciation, only to hear Aussies themselves say it in three totally different ways. If THEY can't get it straight then there's pretty much no hope for us, so I plan to just avoid its use whenever possible. "Please take us to Circular Q- *cough cough ahem*". They'll figure it out, right? Even Brittany, a now established Opera House detractor, couldn't deny that it looks intensely beautiful at night. Admittedly, she would probably have described it as "tolerable," but I'll go ahead and say that to all Earth-born humans with hearts and feelings it was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Once the sun had gone down it lost its beige, retro color and took on a more comely and brilliant white. I can only imagine how it would glow in full sun at midday. A short wet walk home took us past a voluptuously full and green tree. We stopped underneath it just to marvel at its thick, maze-like branches when we were both taken by surprise as several "flying foxes" (bats so large they more than merit the term) soared from their hidden roosts. These things were absolutely huge and have no problem whatsoever flying within a few feet of your head (probably because they know they'd win against my wildly flailing arms). I tried to nab a few pictures but they're just too fast. Too bad they didn't fly up to the glowing full moon and hover in mid flight; it would've made for an awesome movie poster! Our next day was, yet again, wet and gray. There's just about no point getting up early on a day like that (I'm quite sure it's been scientifically proven) and we slept until 10am as nature intended. Everything we had planned to do was based on the now-outrageous premise that Australia would be consistently sunny, so we tossed the itinerary and went for a nice long walk. Our first stop was a surprisingly chic French bistro called Ananas. Staffed by a French man and young woman that both epitomized the laid back approach to mysteriously relaxed and yet extremely refined dining, we languidly gazed over the harbor as courses of ravioli, baked salmon, duck confit, and crème brûlée appeared on the table. That place was as close as you can get to France on this side of the Pacific, I think. Sufficiently carbo-loaded we ventured out to the nearby Royal Botanic Gardens. There are still all kinds of beautiful old buildings to see here in Sydney, and some of them are smack dab in the middle of luxurious greenery, lovingly curated for over a hundred years. I've got to admit that I wasn't all that impressed with the gardens, but stumbling out of the trees to a sudden view of the Opera House's pale white domes was a pleasant surprise. Still, there's something missing. We haven't been here all that long but Sydney just doesn't have the same energy as Melbourne, and I think we both wish we'd spent more time there. Melbourne had this kind of primal, overpowering feeling of, of youth, of strength. I'm having a hard time putting my finger on it, but where Sydney exudes wealth, Melbourne exudes life. Finally up close and personal with the Opera House, I was surprised to see that the roof isn't solid at all but more of a conglomeration of oddly laid out tiles. Some are beige and some were even darker, but nothing was truly white. There were curvaceous lines from top to bottom, and it's seemingly uniform appearance is really just an illusion of photographs. To be honest, I prefer the illusion. Seeing it broken up and disjointed in color was disappointing, and I'm still waiting for that timid sun to peak out and reaffirm my belief that this building is as incontestably beautiful as I'd always suspected. As the rain rolled in we happily took refuge in the Australian Museum. It was mostly just a larger version of the Melbourne Museum, but there was a special exhibit on spiders that I forced Brittany to experience against her will. Even she ended up liking it! Spiders are surprisingly amazing creatures, and we both came away thinking we'd like to learn even more about them. There were all kinds of interactive exhibits, games, colorful displays, and even live spiders. It definitely helped to hear that spider-related deaths in Australia are extremely rare (in spite of the deadly b*****s lurking in the dark) so we were more informed than terrified. What we hadn't realized was that we'd bought our tickets less than two hours before they closed, then burned up most of that time with the spiders. The half hour to close warning sent us on a straight-up sprint through four floors and millions of years of history. I pretty much learned nothing after that point, but I did get some great pictures of dinosaur bones, impossibly large crocodiles, devilish-looking (thankfully) dead snakes, and skillfully stuffed marsupials. As I much as I hate the rain I doubt we would've explored the museum without it, so we'll just take some good with the bad. Thanks to Google, we'd found a restaurant run by a hospitality college called William Blue. It's kind of like getting your hair cut at a beautician's school: super cheap fine food served by aspiring chefs. I had the best (and cheapest) scallops of my life and we savored every bite of a meal that should've cost us twice as much. There's something especially gratifying about getting great food dirt cheap, don't you think? It was getting late and we were both tired, but I had already arranged a tour of the Sydney Observatory. Brittany was a good sport and we walked the five minutes uphill to a two hundred year old astronomy station with full stomachs and sagging eye-lids. This was supposed to be an uber romantic treat but the bottle of wine with dinner and constant drizzle made it feel more like a chore. For a second I actually thought we might be the only ones there. I mean, who wants to go look at the stars when they're covered by an impenetrable layer of dark gray clouds? I was oh so totally wrong. There were dozens and dozens of people there, but I can honestly say it didn't mar the experience. No, we weren't wistfully staring into the cosmos at far flung planets or moons, but just hearing the history of the place and seeing a centuries-old telescope in action was worth the trip. In the observatory dome, it felt as though the earth was moving when the metal roof turned to align an opening with the telescope. The copper ceiling glowed in soft light as our guide astounded was with celestial facts and I'm in serious danger of attempting to build my own telescope. You can buy one for a cool twenty grand but my limit's fifteen haha It wasn't until we started the walk home that I remembered it was St.Patrick's Day, which is just as huge here as it is back home. There were massive lines out the door of every pub, faux Irish or not, and they seem to take things to the next level in Sydney. Flip flops, a t-shirt and a stupid green hat don't cut it! You want to get drunk with ole St.Patty in Australia? You'd better dress to impress! Not wanting to defend Brittany's honor to a horde of drunk rugby-playing Australians, we power walked home. I do have to admit that a Guinness is sounding awfully good. Hmm, I might have to hit the hotel bar... Tomorrow is another early start for a tour of the Hunter Valley, another undoubtedly beautiful wine-growing region. Think they'll be late?