Baby, It’s Cold Inside!

The sun shone brightly, causing us to squint after 10 weeks of rainy season, but it was still a blustery winter day, cold enough for a coat and making you wish you had a hat. We arrived in Sydney very early in the morning. A hired driver was waiting for us at the airport to take us to our hotel downtown. He was an Italian, married to a Japanese woman, living and working in Australia. He had the most marvelous insight – usually if you ask an European how they are, they will tell you (in minute detail), but if you ask an Australian, they will say, “Just great, mate, the best day of my life!” even if it’s Monday morning at 0300 and they have a hangover and the flu (I know this is a stereotype, but quite true for most of the Australians I know). That’s why he chose to live there. The hotel was located smack in the downtown – halfway between the harbor and Chinatown and perfect for our plans. Our room was not yet ready when we arrived, so we headed downtown in search of the fabled Australian “Big Breakfast” and a little sun. We found coffee shops and cheered ourselves with thoughts of hot coffee to warm our summer acclimatized bodies; the Big Breakfast could wait for another day (we never did actually find one, by American standards anyway, which is all well and good since we are not really big people). Our waitperson cheerily showed us to a table outside! Everyone at that cafe was outside. We looked longingly into the cafe only to realize that the doors were open, and our only chance to warm ourselves would be wrapping our hands around a long black, flat white and a hot cocoa. Practically every establishment in Sydney had their doors wide open.