August 11 Tuesday I got up long enough to have the free breakfast, then went back to bed for a while longer. At 2 in the afternoon, I got in touch with Julie and we agreed to head down to the Opera House together at 5pm. Just before 5 I made my way to her hostel a few streets up the road from where I am and we meandered down through the Botanical Gardens as the sun was setting behind the city. We set out too late to really get any good views of the sunset, but it was a nice evening anyway. Neither of us has 'the right clothes' for a night at the opera, but I really do not care about that. Julie worries about it some and says she almost went shopping during the day to get a more appropriate costume. We did not find anywhere to eat while walking down to the harbor side and once there everything gets very expensive in a hurry. We were both somewhat hungry and the prospect of going into a 2 ½ hour performance without eating seemed daunting. The restaurant at the Opera House has selections ranging from $55 to $125 for entrees. Luckily inside the Opera House there is also a small bistro and we each got something to eat for $15 (she had a baked vegetable plate and I had a vegetable quiche and salad). There were programs for purchase for $15, but later when I had a chance to look through one, it barely had more information than the free sheet with basic details on it. We sat in the very middle, three rows from the back, which turned out to be very good seats. Julie had thought that since the price jumps up the next row in front of us it might be empty and actually two rows were empty. The orchestral music was great, the sets were one of my favorite parts of the production, and the performances were about what I expected. What I did not expect and what I thought felt out of place was the casting of a female in the role of Romeo. Maybe that is what counts as edgy and daring, but in the scenes where they were singing to each other it was somewhat confusing, since their voices were fairly similar. All the costuming was 40's and 50's gangster and that actually worked okay for me.

August 12 Wednesday: A do nothing day. I stayed at the hostel almost all day, read a lot, cooked a couple ears of corn for lunch, took a nap, watched a movie (a screener copy of The Taking of Pelham 123), etc. I did take the time to get directions for the nearest SDA church in the Woollahra district so I'll be ready on Sabbath. The district we are staying in is just below King's Cross and is called Woolloomooloo. There is an official sign when you enter the neighborhood that has a sheep (Wool) and toilet (loo) a cow (moo) and another toilet (loo) so the people here do have a sense of humor. Jon and I went out for dinner at both places we had vouchers for: the Old Fitzroy and the Gaff.

August 13 Thursday: Jon and I drove out to Bondi Beach around noon. It is a famous beach and was quite busy (this is winter after all). All the guidebooks point out that there are much better surfing beaches both north and south of Bondi, but its reputation keeps it on top. It is one of the first beaches to have surfing lifeguards and the surf boards were stationed every 50 meters or so. We walked the beach and out to a point on the north side. When we got back to the car it would not start. Jon said that it happens occasionally when the car overheats, but we had not driven the care more than 10 km and it had been sitting for a couple hours while we explored, so I really did not think that was the problem. So I started wondering if I'm riding in another lemon vehicle. I said a quick prayer to myself and we opened up the hood. We checked levels on fluids, for any loose wires, etc and found nothing. We went to the hotel across the street to look for a mechanic and they told us there was one a block and a half up the next street. And there was. He said he would look at the car if we got it towed there and gave us the number for a towing company. Jon called them and they said half an hour. The mechanic said he would close at 5pm. By 4:30 the tow-ers still had not shown up and Jon called them again. They said they were on their way. Well wouldn't you know it, as soon as he got off the phone he tried the ignition one more time and it started right up. We drove to a repair shop and stopped, but they did not have time to look at it then and so we drove back into the city. Jon will attempt to find a repair shop closer to where we are staying.

August 14 Friday. Another lazy day. I had breakfast of Weet Bix, Rice Krispies,and Corn Flakes with some toast and peanut butter. I did some laundry and talked to my mom for a bit in the middle of the day. The laundry was lucky because as soon as I had my load in a queue formed with three other people, so I did not have to wait and could dry most of my things in the sun. I watched most of Bruno with a group at the hostel and posted some notes on my blog. I had barley soup and an ear of corn for lunch. The most recent book I finished reading is The Dark Room by Rachel Seiffert and it put me over the 9000 page mark so far on my trip. The book is a triptych of stories from Nazi Germany and its aftermath, but the stories are not what we are used to when you think of that as the subject matter. First we have a boy with a physical defect that keeps him out of the German military, much to his dismay. It tells his perspective of watching the city of Berlin slowly empty and the change (or lack thereof) in his attitude as he realizes some of the horrors of war. The second story follows a 12 year old girl whose party member parents know they are going to be arrested and who send her on a cross country journey with her younger brothers and sisters to their grandmothers home. This is a perilous journey in war time and they do not all survive. The third story follows a young man who becomes obsessed with finding out what his grandfather, who was in the Waffen SS, really did during the war, to the detriment of his relationships with family, wife, and others he involves in the search. The writing is in a rather simple, unemotional style, but with the material it makes a powerful impression.

August 15 Sabbath. I was the first one in the kitchen this morning, had the last of my banana yoghurt with a mix of corn flakes, rice krispies, and Weet Bix and a couple slices of toast. Then armed with my Bible and water bottle I headed in the general direction of Woollarha district. I had tried to memorize the major streets on my path, but that was soon by the wayside. I knew I wanted to end up about two miles away on a southeastly heading. Anyway, I knew I was in the right area because the street signs were declaring I was in Woollarha. So I asked an older lady sitting on a bench outside the Post Office and she confirmed my heading and another five minutes and I was at the church. It is a smallish brick building in the middle of a neighborhood of small brick houses. (A few members told me this is one of the more affluent neighborhoods in Sydney, but I would have never guessed that). I'm still not used to seeing so many brick buildings. California building codes have invaded my brain through all the years working with my dad on house projects. I sat in on a small discussion group for the lesson and then the assistant pastor from one of the other Sydney churches gave a very good sermon on “Finishing the Race”. He is a Samoan, but by no means large in the way so many Samoans are. He included a funny story about himself in the sermon. In the Samoan culture being chubby indicates wealth and health and happiness. So he was telling how he was 'very happy' in elementary school and was resigned to finishing last on all running events until another boy who was even 'happier' than he was came to the school and he was able to run faster than the new boy. Of course there was also the serious point to the sermon: that we need to persevere in the race to heaven by keeping the communication with God open through Bible reading and daily prayer. It was a good sermon. And the potluck afterwards was also very good. I spoke with the guest pastor and several church members about my trip and had a good time.