Few places in the world will make one wonder about the journey itself. The length of the flight, the time zones conquered one by one, or even the seasons changing as we cruise over oceans and pieces of land. An island continent so vast, yet so isolated from the rest of the world, Australia is definitely a place that will invoke these thoughts on every traveler heading ‘down under’.

Once again, a rain-drenched runway launches the beginning of such long journey at Dublin Airport, the half-empty Airbus 330 effortlessly gaining momentum through the clouds, only emerging to a clear sky when the late summer sunset of Northern Europe turns the sky into cotton candy.

The night grows shorter flying East, the aircraft floating over the lights of Istanbul before turning slightly South, when the fire of burning oil in Kuwait breaking the ethereal darkness of the night guide our descent into the Gulf.

 

I have a few hours in Abu Dhabi before my next flight and, shortly after my retinas are scanned and my passport is stamped, I find myself holding onto dear life in a taxi, the speed breaking through the morning hazy fog and the little sedan swerving through morning traffic over smooth asphalt, the air conditioning blasting off the dust-covered outtakes.

And like most big cities in the Gulf, the city centre rises with a series of half-empty concrete and glass towers extending towards the clear sky. The thermometre already marking thirty-two degrees Celsius at seven in the morning, yet the air conditioned apartments of some sixty-something floors above the scorching ground keeps the hostile environment outside like a framed and silent Middle Eastern painting.

Quick shower, yogurt with granola and a catch up with my Gulf-based friends are done in less than two hours before rushing back to the airport, some thirty kilometers away for the next and longer part of the trip.

Indeed, long gone are the green fields of Ireland. The landscape around me now dominated by the void brown of the desert and the clusters of sky scrapers in the solitude of the arid land, yet, the journey to Australia is far from being complete.

At mid-morning, the plane carrying fellow passengers, several food trays and tonne after tonne of fuel needed for an ultra-long haul flight, heavily rotates away from the hazy runway at Abu Dhabi and, dodging a few crosswinds over Oman, gracefully sets course over the Indian Ocean.

The afternoon shortens again and the night falls over the pale-blue atolls of the Maldives which seem to glow under the light of a full moon, the clouds looking like freshly harvested pieces of wool floating in a giant conveyor belt. Only as the flight reaches its tenth hour, the lights of Freemantle announce we have made landfall, signalling three hours left to cross the Australian continent before reaching the East coast.

The Western Suburbs of Sydney growing more and more dense whilst the fuel-starved and tired aircraft aligns with the airport runway through a series of scenic sharp turns over the many extensions of the Parramatta River, touching down at Botany Bay minutes before sunrise and finally completing a twenty eight-hour journey from Dublin.

 

The mind wanders: it is winter here, it is summer at home. It is morning time here, it is still day time the day before at home. I can feel my body desperately trying to adjust to the humidity whilst the eGates swing open to an arrivals halls bursting in activity by the morning rush. I change into shorts and meet my Irish friend, a relatively new Sydneysider.

It is a short drive from the airport to Coogee Beach, where the day has barely started and joggers are still in control of the undulating suburban streets, the wet cars parked on leafy driveways and the streets slowly drying from the overnight rain. We rush for a refreshing brunch of poached eggs and strong coffee served against a backdrop of waves crash against the golden sand, a comforting meal after hours spent on a metal tube.

From Coogee, a series of motorways carved deep into the city landscape wind above and below ground level, drilling through the rock bed at Sydney Harbour and only emerging in the Northern Suburbs, where leafy avenues zigzag around the scarped landscaped shaped by the ocean and where neighborhoods names such as Clontarf and Killarney Heights trick my mind for a second.

The suburbs grow greener, inviting to open the car windows and take gulps of fresh air, relishing in the smell of the recent rain slowly evaporating around us. Soon the densely populated streets surrender to the hills, the water becoming omnipresent in all of its forms: the sea, the creeks and the late morning downpour turning the Narrabeen Lagoon silky silver and the Pacific Ocean aggressively navy blue.

Road signs read Palm Beach. The last suburban outpost before the ‘City’ finally gives way to the Australian countryside and set of idyllic ‘Home and Away’ Australian soapie.

 

Granted, the acting might not be great and the story lines might sometimes be cliche, but the setting is indeed a paradise worth the journey. A landscape only seen on TV, a guilty pleasure now unfolding around me, embracing me with the oceanic wind, for the heat and humidity of ‘Summer Bay’ is now burning my very own skin.

 

The Pacific Ocean waters strike me like a bucket of cold water and blow off the jet-lag. The humidity fills my lungs as my friend and I hike up the lighthouse, from where the many inlets, islands and golden beaches seem to collide like distant galaxies.
‘The prettiest view of  The Bay’ (and why not, one of the prettiest of the Australian coast) I scream whilst munching on TimTams. The surf grows stronger, broken by banks of golden sand and lush green, whilst the still water across the peninsula provide a silky runway for hydroplanes and fishing boats.

 

We spend the late afternoon driving across the Northern suburbs through Avalon and Mona Vale down to Narrabeen, car windows wide open whilst the waves outside sing a nap-inducing lullaby. Cup of coffee later sipped by the beach as a wake up call to trick the jet-lag and most importantly: a much needed warm shower and a bed.