Sydney

Ten hours of uninterrupted insomnia after leaving Bangkok, I touched down in Sydney.

The darkness outside the airport was pleasing on my eyes and despite the taxi driver's best efforts to give me his best 'Welcome to Australia' spiel, the back seat of his car was way too cosy to even contemplate conversation.

I was staying in Manly, a seaside suburb in north Sydney, which is about half-an-hour from the city centre by bus or ferry - a vital transport mode in these parts.

Setting out for my first full day in Sydney the following morning, the sun was shining and the ferry was full, with a mix of tourists and locals heading into the city centre.

The locals sat inside and drank coffee while reading their newspapers and books, while all the tourists, me included, scurried for the best seats at the front of the ferry.

The first part of the journey was quite rough as we had a small bit of the open sea to cross before we turned right into the shelter of the magnificent Sydney Harbour.

The harbour coastline appeared untouched by the city, apart from the odd house dotted in amongst the hills and trees of the Sydney suburbs.

The picture I had in my head of Sydney always involved sunshine, the Opera House and the enormous bridge that spans the harbour. I couldn't believe I was about to feast my eyes on these world famous landmarks in real life.

As the ferry turned left around the meandering harbour, the stunning Sydney skyline emerged like a giant postcard in front of my eyes.

To my left, the Sydney Opera House appeared as beautiful and splendid as I could have imagined, while the Harbour Bridge stretched across the gaping waterfront as far as the eye could see.

Behind the Opera House the skyline sat tall and impressive like the view of Manhattan from the Hudson Bay.

My first impressions were enough to convince me that Sydney was one of the world's great cities and that I was going to enjoy my visit.

There couldn't be a better way to be introduced to Sydney. Captain Jimmy Cook would have been proud of what the Sydneysiders had done to the harbour he stumbled across by accident a couple of hundred years ago.

I disembarked and made my way out of Circular Quay and along George Street into the heart of Sydney's 'CDB' - as with most things in Australia, if a word can be shortened or abbreviated then it is and the 'CBD' is the Central Business District, in Aussie speak.

The city centre is easy to navigate with the main streets running parallel to one another and small streets running perpendicular every hundred metres or so.

It gives the impression of the offspring of a one-night stand between New York and London, the city's colonial buildings standing side by side with the modern skyscrapers, which complemented each other nicely in this hybrid city.

I spent an hour or so wandering around the shops of Pitt Street and its surrounding malls, realising that it wasn't all too different from the shopping back in Dublin - all the usual names were there: HMV, Levis, Nike, French Connection, McDonalds, Burger King.

Darling Harbour is the next inlet up from Circular Quay and is lined with beautiful bars, brasseries and boutiques on all sides of the cosy inlet - the perfect place for a spot of people watching and a tasty club sandwich, washed down with a flat white as they say in these parts, that's a cup of coffee to you and me.

Next stop Bondi beach.

I bought a weekly travel pass for Sydney's red zone, which gave me unlimited travel on bus, ferry, train and night-bus in the city centre and its vicinity.

A short train journey to Bondi Junction followed by a seamless bus transfer and I was feasting my eyes on the spectacular strand at Bondi beach - it was less than 20 minutes from the city centre.

It may have been a weekday afternoon, but Bondi was still buzzing with beachfront cafés, smoothie bars and surf shops all doing great business.

The beach stretched for about a kilometre either side of me and about 60 metres in front the waves were making great noises as they crashed into the sea about 15 metres before the water's edge.

I was obviously not the only one enjoying the easy life, as the beach was far from empty with a generous amount of sunbathers and surfers alike.

I watched for a few minutes as a line of body surfers waited for their wave as if they were waiting on a bus. When the right wave came along, they'd swim like mad on top of the forming wave and then magically catch and ride it in to the shore with their arms outstretched, a bit like Superman in full flight.

The water was freezing at first, but after a couple of moments it felt beautiful and invigorating as it rushed around my ankles, almost dragging me into the sea as the waves were pulled back into the magnificent ocean.

I was now up to my knees, trying to judge the motion of the waves. After a couple of big waves, a few smaller ones rolled in and I took my chance to edge past the place were the waves were breaking.

I made my way out to where the body surfers were watching and waiting, and I studied the better ones trying to learn this magical technique of surfing without the surfboard.

A big wave came in and everyone got ready for take off. I took two strokes, swallowed a mouthful of water, and surfaced to catch a glimpse of the feet of the other body surfers as they sped in towards the shore. I decided it was best to stick to the swimming at that stage.

The current didn't seem too strong but whenever I tried to swim, I didn't seem to be going anywhere. It was a fruitless exercise, so I turned for the shore and let a couple of big waves bring me back in.

The main objective of the day was to walk the coastal route from Bondi to Coogee.

Leaving from Bondi, you stroll up the hill past the famous Icebergs swimming club and head around the cliff's edge towards Tamarama beach, the next inlet, about 10 minutes south of Bondi.

A bit further down the track, I stood high up on the cliffs between Bronte and Tamarama and watched a group of surfers trying to ride the waves that seemed to be twice the size of the waves that I had been swimming in back in Bondi.

Tamarama beach is narrow and surrounded by massive rocks, which makes it one of the most dangerous places to surf in Sydney. That also explained why it was getting such great waves on a relatively calm day. I marvelled at the surfers who were unperturbed by the obvious dangers that the jagged shoreline provided.

Moving on past the smaller strand at Bronte, I found myself wandering through Waverley Cemetery, a 19th century graveyard, which is the resting place of Australian poet Henry Lawson and the country's first Prime Minister, Edmund Barton.

Many of the headstones are emblazoned with Irish names dating back to the early 1900s and if their journey Down Under was a tough one, at least their resting place couldn't be any more serene.

Coogee is the final destination on this 7km stroll; a rival town to Bondi for the hearts and minds of the wary backpacker with a thriving nightlife and impressive beach to boot.

All along the route, the Aussies were out and about enjoying the great outdoors. Young and old alike, running, walking or just sitting on the cliff edge eating their pre-packed picnics.

The hills of Coogee, Clovelly, Bronte and Bondi are what make Sydney stand out from any other city that I've been to. The Opera House and the Harbour Bridge are the Aussie equivalent to the Eiffel Tower or the Statue of Liberty. But to live both the city life and the beach life as one is an experience that's very hard to top.

Ed Leahy