There was a heatwave in Sydney in March.

We stepped off the plane in high thirties temperatures and shuttled to our less-than-cheerful Airport Hotel in Wolli Creek. We were directed to a dowdy brown room near the hotel laundry. Fortunately we were here for a stopover visit only, and grew to appreciate the air conditioning, as well as the fridge and the comfortable bed. The hotel wanted to charge an extortionate amount for breakfast, and showed no sign of opening its restaurant for dinner, so a visit to Woolworths was necessary to buy provisions and Opal cards for the train. We explored the Asian restaurant sector and ate a selection of Korean fried food for our supper. The waitress was quite charming considering it was very obvious that we were from rural England and had no clue. She gave us good advice, made a great fuss of my poorly arm, and offered us forks rather than chopsticks!

The next day we experienced the Metro Train and travelled into central Sydney to see the sights. It was PRIDE weekend, so everywhere was full of music and chatter. Dogs in rainbow wings trotted past us and feathers and sequins were in abundance. Hubby is not really a sequin guy, so we enjoyed the vibe from a pavement café and sauntered along the boulevard.

We much enjoyed a Captain Cook tour of Darling Harbour, walked round the opera house, and admired the harbour bridge.

But the best part was chilling out on a shady slope of the botanical garden and watching the watercraft in the harbour and the white ibis birds patrolling the grass.

It was too hot for long walks, and my plaster cast felt like lead. It was great to get back on the Metro! We made the most of it during our stay!

We had only a couple of days in Sydney and then we were on our way home to England. We tried to get a seat upgrade on the grounds of a broken wrist, but the flights were too full. The best we could achieve was one extra spare seat as far as Singapore, and pre-boarding with the wheelchair and walking stick brigade (who were all very nice, I might add).

We arrived at a chilly Heathrow in early March. There had been snow. We caught the National Express bus to Norwich by the skin of our teeth, and were ferried home by a kind friend.

Time to face over two months of household dust, and several hospital visits.

The next journey would not be so exotic.

Perhaps next year…