Home for now/Sydney: You may not be brave enough to climb the Sydney Bridge, but the greater harbour area has something to excite most tastes, writes Pádraig Collins
Australian place names tend to have a prosaic genius in their matter-of-factness. The Great Barrier Reef and Great Sandy Desert are exactly as it says on the tin. The Blue Mountains really are blue and the Snowy Mountains really are snowy. So it is with the Sydney suburb of Manly.
Captain Arthur Phillip, Commodore of the First Fleet, encountered the men of the Kay-ye-my Aboriginal tribe when exploring Sydney harbour in January 1788. He was impressed with their demeanour. "Their confidence and manly behaviour made me give the name Manly Cove to this place," he wrote shortly after.
The name Manly later migrated a little to the northeast, and the scene of Captain Phillip's agreeable encounter is now known as North Harbour Reserve.
We live a few minutes walk from there. North Harbour Reserve is in Balgowlah (which is an Aboriginal word meaning "north harbour") and Balgowlah, along with Manly; the exotically named Fairlight and Seaforth; the not-so-exotically named Clontarf and a few other suburbs, are collectively known as the Northern Beaches.
A friend in Seaforth, originally from the other side of Sydney, calls the Northern Beaches "God's country".
He might be right. It's certainly the most beautiful place I've lived in since I left the village of Adare, Co Limerick, 15 years ago. And you don't have to travel the 40-mile Adare-to-Ballybunion distance to see the sea.
As a teenager I walked the dog a lot along the banks of the Maigue river in Adare. Eddie didn't require much attention beyond having a stick thrown for him to fetch, so I got to do a lot of thinking. Granted most of that thinking was along the lines of "Why won't (any one of a half-dozen girls names) go out with me?", but still it was tranquil.
My 30-something version of this journey is going with my daughter from Balgowlah to Manly. She throws things from the stroller and I fetch them. She asks a lot of questions so I still get to do a lot of thinking. I always have an answer for her too, even if these are often a variation on the theme of "Sorry love, I still don't know the name of that tree/bird/critter. We didn't have them in west Limerick."
The walk takes a leisurely 35 minutes along North Harbour and is utterly beautiful. You pass by the tiny, but lovely, Fairlight Beach with its open-air pool. There are no beach-side shops, but a guy comes by in a speedboat once or twice a day in summer to sell ice cream. Yes, he plays Greensleeves.
When you get to Manly's ferry port you are at the end of Sydney harbour. You are 15 or 30 minutes from the Opera House depending on which ferry you might take (Manly is famously "Seven miles from Sydney, a thousand miles from care".) But you are about three minutes' walk from the ocean. Just stroll the length of the Corso, Manly's main street, and there's the Pacific.
While Balgowlah is white-bread suburbia (it doesn't even have a pub), Manly is a vibrant, exciting, bustling, beautiful seaside town. Any food you could possibly want is catered for, there are lots of pubs and the Maori bouncers are far friendlier than their Dublin counterparts.
One thing I thought I would never miss about Ireland is the rain. But I do. Sydney has barely had a drop since a week-long deluge last October (you may have noticed the sodden Irish rugby players during the World Cup, which was on here at the time).
The phrase "You don't miss your water until your well runs dry" is often used in stories and songs. Well, Sydney's well has not run dry yet, but it's more than halfway there. The level at Warragamba Dam, which supplies 80 per cent of Sydney's water, is now just 44.8 per cent.
This is Warragamba's lowest level since its construction was completed in 1960. It is so low that parts of a lost town submerged beneath the dam are visible for the first time since then. Houses, an old cheese factory, the local post office and other artefacts can be seen.
Temporary water restrictions brought in last October (mainly concerning the use of hoses and the filling of swimming pools) are about to be made permanent and stricter. Sydney's supply of water is at a critical point and, with the city's population increasing at a rate of 1,000 people every week, it doesn't look likely to be alleviated any time soon.
Something that exercises the mind of Australians even more than the lack of rain is schooling. In Ireland the public versus private education debate seems to have only really lit up the public consciousness in the last couple of years.
Certainly it never impacted on my life beyond taking an extra delight when my school sports teams beat any of the "posh" schools. But the education debate is a constant in Australia.
Basically there are three levels: public, Catholic and private. Public schools have no fees (except in South Australia). Catholic schools have fees that range from low to astronomical. Private schools (other religions and a handful of non-denominational) have fees that range from reasonable to stratospheric.
Our daughter is not due to start primary school until January 2007, but many children of her age have already been enrolled in high schools. We've not even checked out primary schools yet, but I'm assuming she will go to the local Catholic school.
When I say this in conversation here some people ask what have I got against public schools? And the answer, of course, is nothing at all.
But our reasons for wanting our daughter to go to the Catholic school have more to do with practicalities than religion. St Cecilia's is 300 metres from our flat and three doors from her grandmother's house. The fact that her mum went to school there and liked it is the decider. (St Cecilia's fees being relatively low doesn't hurt either).
Overall, our move to Australia has been a good thing. One of the things that annoys me here though is the green-coloured spectacles through which Irish backpackers view home. I was disgusted on a couple of occasions, while in a city-centre Irish bar to watch Celtic v Rangers matches, that a chant of "Sinn Féin, IRA" was shouted over and over again.
The most galling thing was not that they believed that this was an appropriate expression of national pride, nor that 90 per cent of them had not the remotest interest in the football.
No, by far the worst thing is that I'm absolutely certain that not a single one of them would ever countenance voting for Sinn Féin.
There's justsomething about a Young Fine Gaeler that helps you identify them even when they are on the other side of the world, tanned to a fetching shade of purple and wearing garish shorts.
Monday: Paddy Agnew on Rome
Things I miss about Ireland
Shelbourne - the football club, not the Dublin hotel. Particularly now with their wonderful European run.
London and Glasgow - the fact that they are 55 minutes and 35 minutes respectively from Dublin airport. I used to visit one or the other city to see family and friends five times a year on average. That flying time here gets you to Canberra, which is not one of the world's more exciting cities.
Pork sausages - Australian sausages are almost always beef and even if you get pork ones it's not the same.
Things to do, places to go see
Get the Manly Ferry It departs from Circular Quay, which is beside the Opera House. The views are spectacular and, as it operates as a commuter route, there are no "tourist prices" (www.sydneyferries.info).
Climb the Harbour Bridge That will really impress the folks at home. Be aware that you need to book at least a month in advance, be in reasonable physical shape (the climb takes three-and-a-half hours) and that you need to pass a breath test before being allowed to climb. Prices range from $155-$225 (€130) depending on whether you want to go during the day, night or twilight (www.bridgeclimb.com).
Visit Palm and Whale Beaches Palm Beach is where Home And Away is shot, but don't let that put you off. It's also where Sydney's super-rich have their weekend homes, but don't let that put you off either. Whale Beach is the next one up, far quieter and more beautiful
