Running in Sydney
I started 2010 running. Literally. I go one way and I end up at Bondi Beach. I go the other way and I’m trying to wrestle my way around tourists taking photos of that odd-shaped theatre called the Opera House. Yes, it looks really good from afar. But when I stood close to it this afternoon, it didn’t look that special, really. God forbid I criticise one of Sydney’s most famous landmarks. But I just found out from Wikipedia that, two years ago, it became a World Heritage Site, on par with the Stonehenge. Now I’ve been to the Stonehenge and that was surreal. I don’t recall feeling all tingly when I saw the Opera House for the first time, that’s for sure. But maybe 10,000 years from now, the Opera House will be the new Stonehenge.
Anyway, it’s probably because I’m a local that I much prefer to see the Sydney invisible to the tourist eye. The one that looks quite ordinary, y’know. The photos that you don’t upload on Facebook. Looking at these photos now (see below), they do look quite bland. But there’s a story behind them. Or, to me, there’s a story yet to be told behind them. Many runners like running in and around parks. I prefer to navigate through this concrete jungle I call my home.
