Childhood dream Sydney

Why am I actually doing this?
After Dory and Marlin once again successfully found Nemo, we all sat together in the TV room of a hostel in Perth. Another 4 hours until my flight takes off and another 4 hours until it drops me off in Sydney - only this time alone and on my own.
It was only 4 hours before the start that I actually started thinking about the fact that I would be standing alone in a big city, where I have no idea about anything. Yes, congratulations!
The only difference by now was that I trusted my inner scout so much that I knew I would probably be sitting in a hostel or behind my camera and tripod until nightfall.
The last hours in Perth passed by and suddenly it was time to say goodbye to our companions, and yes, it did hurt a little after 6 weeks together.
A little while later, after singing my dad a birthday song at the airport via Skype, I was sitting in the airplane, on my way to the final leg of my journey in Australia.
Half an hour after arriving, I proudly stood in front of my hostel after successfully navigating through Sydney's train system and streets.

Thanks to GPS and maps!
After 3 minutes of checking out the facilities and the kitchen, I was back in the same place as before: the hostel was a nightmare and I hadn't even seen my room. Thank God I would only spend 3 nights in the dump, no longer than necessary spend.
So I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, armed with a city map and camera (a sight to behold, all that's missing are the tennis socks with sandals).. well, just go with the flow. Hard to believe, but after a while I actually ended up at the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge.

At the same moment that the impressive Harbour Bridge came into view, a wave of happiness washed over me. Since childhood, the Opera House, shaped like a school of fish in Disney's 'Finding Nemo', has been floating in front of my inner eye and I have been waiting for this moment for years. There it is. What the fuck!
With tears in my eyes, I ran up the stairs to the Opera House and asked the nearest person without a selfie stick if they could take a photo of me. After a few minutes and a heartfelt conversation, Carolyn, a true Australian and one of the most open-minded people I have ever met, handed me her business card with the command to contact her on the Sunshine Coast. Jackpot!
The rest of the day I wandered through 'The Rocks' and the Botanic Garden (the first one I voluntarily strolled through), until I finally had to go back to my hostel, where 3 guys were already waiting for me in a 3x3 m room, as the smell loudly informed me when I entered the cell. Welcome home. But to get to that cell, I had to conquer a maze of crooked stairs and narrow, dark corridors without getting high from secondhand smoke on the way there. Thank God I had my loyal companion Netflix with me, who gave me a goodnight episode in the horror shack.
The next morning greeted me with 2 cockroaches, who had apparently used my socks as bedding last night. My instinct to escape drove me to the famous Bondi Beach, which personally was a bit too Instagrammable for me, but in the end, that's what made Bondi charming. You're not there to see Bondi, Bondi should see you. Since that didn't quite fit my intentions, I took a little hike to Coogee, and after I had rescued my hoodie from the power of the cockroaches at "home" (only 2 more nights!!!), I found myself sitting behind my camera, overlooking the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge.
After navigating through dark Sydney for over 84 alleyways and stairs and finally finding my way back to my dump, at least a hungover Lisa took 3 hours to talk through all the girl talk in the world - in the middle of a hotel room full of guys. It had to be done!
Considering the waiting jalapeño wraps at Maccas, I ran my feet sore in worn-out sneakers in order to pick up my wrap after another city tour with outstretched arms.
The rest of the day, I wandered like a little child through the artworks of the Museum of Contemporary Art, more or less impressed. And as if the photography gods wanted it that way, I was sitting there again, with my camera and music in my ears, waiting for the most beautiful light. A dream! Back in the hostel, I always did my best to create some semblance of a meal in the tiny and poorly equipped kitchen while being surrounded by other bustling backpackers, and to retreat to my room as quickly as possible without running into the drunk, male and unsympathetic part of the population. One more night!

A new morning actually dawned and I moved a few houses down to a more expensive but much nicer hostel. Since my mini laptop stubbornly refused to cooperate with the wifi, I took the old thing to the brand-new Microsoft Store to get it fixed, where they looked at me somewhat pityingly, but at least convinced my baby not to throw in the towel. I didn't want to leave the chic Pitt Street so quickly, but at dusk, I arrived at my new home, where I created my travel plan on a small balcony with fairy lights, the travel plan for my own trip along the east coast of Australia.
The next day was a day of ups and downs for me. After a successful run and a visit to the Art Gallery of NSW, which captivated me with its detail-rich artworks, my path led me to Martin Place, the center of Sydney's business district. Among the people in suits and dresses, between ringing iPhones and headsets, people sat on the ground.
People sitting on wooden pallets and mattresses, interrupted by small piles of their last belongings. This refuge for the homeless in Sydney was so lovingly designed that the shelter almost had a homely feel to it, right in the middle of the cool main square of the CBD. Chalkboards displayed rules for living together, quotes, and directions for various sporadic help services.
To the countless mattresses followed the library, a small shelf filled with old books, a clothes collection, and a small kitchen that served food. A life of complete dependence on donations and the most wonderful humility that people can have. I walked along the little camp, shocked and fascinated at the same time, and the people smiled at me as I walked by them with my Canon. Taking pictures as if these people were something abnormal to be looked at quickly became too embarrassing for me, and after a few minutes, I continued onward.
It broke my heart.

Yes, this is also Sydney and probably has even more to do with real life than an Opera House or a Harbour Bridge.
And as my contrasting day wanted it, shortly afterwards, the Queen Elizabeth Building stood in my way: a fascinating building with 3 stories of shops, none of which needed price tags. 2 worlds. 1 Sydney.
If there was one thing I knew, it was that I needed some distance from this city, so I finally crossed the Harbour Bridge and sat on the edge of the other part of town, alone and in peace.
The next day, I also distanced myself from Sydney and took the train to the Blue Mountains. At the train station, I picked up a lost Amelie from Denmark and, as fate would have it, we spent the day together just the two of us.

After 2 hours, we finally arrived at the highlight of the Blue Mountains, the Three Sisters, but we couldn't see anything from the towering rocks. All we could see was a white wall of fog. Laughing again out of frustration, we wandered around for a while and the fog actually cleared for a few minutes, but then it was over again. By the way, it was freezing cold, so we found refuge in a cafe before heading back.

Finally, the last day in Sydney arrived.
I spent 50% of it at the travel agency, perfecting my travel plan and booking my last highlights in Australia. Then it was time to pack my suitcase. Half an hour before leaving for my hop-on-hop-off bus, I met my dear Fredi, who felt super fooled when I introduced myself as Vreni. Together, we conquered the walk to the bus station with our 2-ton backpacks. An hour later, we were actually on the bus (respect). Finally out of the city. Finally back to the sea, to the beach.
15 hours to our next stop: Byron Bay. Good night!