Zane and I had decided a few days ago that we'd go for a bike ride today. After many days of nearly nonstop rain (and I'm not complaining), the Sunday forecast was for clear skies. Happy happy joy joy!
We were going to try and meet up with Sydney Spokes and join them for their weekly group ride, but the 9:30 a.m. start was a wee early for us. I decided we'd take roughly the same route as Spokes, however. It was billed as an easy ride, suitable for all types of bikes. That was a big plus, considering Zane has only had a bike for about a year now and doesn't ride all that often, especially in the city. At any rate, their planned route was to originate near where we live and go south toward Cronulla. Even though we weren't traveling with Spokes, Zane and I chose to follow roughly the same route but not go quite as far. Personally, I am anxious to experience more of the bike paths in greater Sydney, so this was a swell opportunity.
Somewhere around 11:30 a.m. we hit the road. We mounted the bikes on the car and drove about 10 minutes south to Mascot, where we started our ride on a designated bike trail. (We would have ridden from our townhouse, but the side streets from here to the trailhead are a little tricky to navigate, in order to avoid riding in too much traffic...not a good idea for 9 year-old who is just getting comfortable with biking.)
Indeed, the weather was glorious. Mostly sunny, not too windy, and about 24 degrees (75F).
The trail starts in an unimpressive light industrial area, emerging from a cluster of endlessly confusing streets near Kingsford Smith International Airport. It's great on the weekend though, for most of the businesses are closed and the side streets fairly empty.
Soon, you find yourself riding parallel with Airport Drive. In fact, I had just driven this route a few days ago, while carting Mark to airport for his trip to Syracuse.
I remember the first images of Sydney that entered my brain, when I moved here in July 2005. Arriving at the International Terminal (that Zane and I were semi-circumnavigating today), I was still flying high from the two Valium that I had taken after leaving Los Angeles. But I vividly remember Mark's sister, who had picked us up after our flight, whizzing by all those cleverly annoying sculpture-cum-advertising pieces that one sees at many major airports. What a funny, cabalistic moment to be standing beneath one today.
Zane was really excited to see the "farm" we rode past. I have to say that I, too, was fairly exhilarated to view such a bucolic site in the middle of suburban Sydney. Had it not been situated in the middle of such a densely populated area, it would have reminded me even more of the community gardens I used to have a plot at in Vermont, when I lived there a few years ago. As we cycled past, the optimist in me battled fiercely with the cynic, ordering him to stop worrying about how much jet fuel vapor must settle on these crops, seeing as how they are under the flight path.
Soon, we found ourselves in the suburb of Brighton-le-Sands, situated on stunning Botany Bay just south of the airport. Unfortunately, the exotic name of the suburb is belied, at least in my mind, by the fact that it shared the scene during one of the most shameful episodes of modern Australian cultural history, the 2005 Cronulla riots. We'd all like to think that's ancient history, and perhaps by 21st-century standards it almost is, but Zane and I stopped there for lunch at a sidewalk cafe, and you get the sense that there remains something simmering below the surface, a pervasive sense of discomfort etched in people's faces. But then, maybe that is simply folks' reaction to the hot-doggers screeching the tires on their pimped-up Daihatsus, foisting their taste in music upon everyone within a 5km radius. It's not pretty. We quickly ate and left. I have to say, however, that the view of Botany Bay from Brighton is stunning.
After lunch, we headed back to Sydney. Zane was fairly "puffed out," as they say here, and the trip back was slower. I didn't mind. It gave me more opportunities to enjoy the day and soak up the sunshine.
We passed a wonderfully tranquil little slip where folks dock their boats among the resident pelicans. (Jesus, they're big waterfowl!)
Being so close to a major airport, we couldn't pass up the chance to stand and watch airplanes take off over our heads. You gotta love the Bernoulli effect.
All in all, a great finish to a great weekend. I've enjoyed having Zane all to myself while Mark is in America. That may sound selfish, but I don't care. I enjoy being a dad.
