Day 32: Manly Beach (01/03/2011)

In need of some down time, we surfaced, breakfasted on Ewa’s patented oats and fruit salad before heading for the beach.

A train ride to City enabled us to walk the short distance to Circular Quay to pick up the famous Manly ferry. Double ended to enable them to sail in either direction without the need to turn round, we secured prime seats on the starboard foredeck to watch the passing of the city foreshore, SHB and the Opera House. Past the Botanical Gardens we went, to Fort Dennison in the roadway, the Navy dockyards and the suburb lined bays of the wealthier southern waterside neighbourhoods.

Manly is now a distant suburb that at one stage was a sizeable town in its own right, some 8 miles from the city, now subsumed into the greater conurbation. It retains its turn of the century charm but has sensitively grafted on the best of modern architecture and so preserved the essential character of the place. Relaxed, easy going and prosperous, Manly is above all a place to have fun. The streets are dotted with weatherboard leisure pursuit shops, intermingling effortlessly with gelateria, sea food restaurants and historic buildings.

The ferry docked at a picturesque wharf protruding from a golden beach. Sydney is a city of countless bays and beaches which contribute significantly to the relaxed air it has acquired. Manly is no exception. Standing on Manly Corso, no fewer than 5 beaches are visible, each as beautiful as the next. We ate our sandwiches under the watchful eye of the seagulls before strolling the length of Manly Beach and around the small headland to Cabbage Tree Bay, named after the Cabbage Palms that used to crowd the foreshore. A small seawater swimming pool has been carved from the rocks and fills with the tide under the gaze of a sculpture of swimmers that is elevated to the horizon.

Walking past the silver sculptures of surfers and fish emerging from the rock face, we arrived at Shelly Bay, named on account of the lack of sand and the substitution of sea washed shells that will one day reach a sufficiently fine grain, to call themselves sand. We found the shade of a palm and sat watching lithe men and curvaceous girls play paddle ball. We fell asleep to the rustle of the dried palm fronds waving in the onshore afternoon breeze.

We retraced our steps to the ferry, only diverting for a cooling ice cream on the Corso before returning home. Gulls hovered beside the ferry as it ploughed through the rising swell and spray soaked our faces. The gulls departed and we arrived in the city before catching the train home.

We had the early evening to ourselves as Nick and Ewa attended a building management STRATO meeting with over ran until 9.30pm. Starving and a little past eating, we went to their favourite Japanese restaurant called Dantako. They were on the point of closing for the evening but agreed to let us in if we were finished within the hour.

Dutifully we ordered and consumed sushi, sashimi and chicken teriyaki with silverfish tempura and vegetable croquets. And so to bed; once again on the merry side of tipsy and full to brimming with all things good.