Dawn over Sydney is apparently a wonderful sight, I’m told. Pity I missed it, not just by a few minutes but a good few hours. I hadn’t realised how tired I was until I awoke at about 10.20. The 27 hour journey from Adelaide had taken its toll. By 11 I was showered and dressed and ready to venture out to the sights. First stop on my list of must sees is the Bridge. Bill Bryson in his travel memoirs “Down Under” described it as an elderly uncle trying to get into every photo at a family gathering. He’s not wrong! Wherever you seem to look, this magnificent construction which welcomed in the new millennium with one of the most wondrous firework displays ever, is omni present. I turned my back to it and I could still see it reflected in the mirror glass side of a nearby office block. There is in life a series of unwritten laws, like no matter how many people are stretched out in front of you on a pavement, blocking you way past, should one peel off then that space will be filled by the remaining pedestrians until only one remains and they still need an "excuse me" befor you can get past! Or whenever you press the button to call a lift, that lift is for you, not the person who was in it and was getting out at the same floor you’re already on. As far as big buildings and structures go, no matter how fast you travel towards it, it still seems miles away until “WHAM” all of a sudden you’re at the base of it. The same is true of Sydney Harbour Bridge.

Had I wanted to, I could’ve donned a grey boiler suit and climbed up on the outside off it. It was a lovely clear day and it was tempting but really, I just didn’t have the hours to spare. Had it been a GP in any other country I would’ve but this was the Australian GP and I didn’t want to miss it. I’d already given up the chance of actually being there. To watch it in a local sports bar was the next best thing, so I opted for the lesser option of climbing up inside one of the four giant concrete corner posts. As I said, it was a clear day and Sydney sprawls out around me, with the other major landmark The Opera House glistening in the mid day sun. A few years ago I was lucky to go to the top of Table Mountain in a cable car at 2 am. The one car had been put on especially for the BBC World Service so that we could commence a marathon 16 hour broadcast from the restaurant at the top. As we ascended, Cape Town was bathed in an orange and white glimmer of sodium lights while above a pitch black velvet-like sky appeared to have been randomly stitched with diamonds masquerading as stars. A full moon swept in over a still smooth ocean, and I thought “If I pop my clogs now, I wouldn’t really care”. It was that good a sight! And so was Sydney from this vantage point. But my delayed waking had meant that I had to rush to get back to the Sports Bar on George Street for the start of the GP.

So there I am, in the bar with some crisps and a pint of Guinness thinking that it doesn’t get any better than this, when blow me, it does! The grid walkabout is conducted by the legendary former BBC and ITV F1 commentator Murray Walker. Murray had hung up his microphone and regardless of the Murrayisms had left a gap in F1 that no one had filled since. And here he was! Employed by Aussie TV and injecting his own brand of commentary that only he was ever capable off. It wasn’t a bad race, and I’d managed to sink a few more pints of the black stuff before the reigning World Champion, Fernando Alonso took top step on the podium.

Before coming to Australia, I’d agreed to meet up with a friend of mine who I knew would be here on holiday with his family. I also knew he’d be happy to escape them for a few hours and so he joined me in the pub after the race had ended. It was an interesting session! We ended up in an Irish pub, watching two transvestites hosting a karaoke evening. You really had to be there!

I awoke the next morning wishing that I hadn’t! The drunk monkey had got into my room, throwing my clothes everywhere and relieving itself in my mouth! He hadn’t been sick in the sink fortunately but strangely there was no sign of a forced entry!

Not wanting to waste my final day in Sydney I was up, albeit not as sprightly as I’d have liked and made my way via Starbucks to the Aquarium. Here I spend a couple of hours wandering around and through giant tanks filled with sharks and some pretty exotic other types of fish. Strangely, I recall this moment a few days later when I’m in Hong Kong and the same cuddly Nemo creatures are available in the market place for instant execution an filleting! It’s a great place, Sydney and my feelings are only enhanced by the rest of the day. Just next to the aquarium, I’m able to book myself on a three hour cruise out to the harbour mouth. We pass loads of fabulously expensive real estate and our guide points out who lived where, when and how much they paid. Nicole Kidman, Elton John, George Michael and Leo Sayer (never thought I’d get Leo in the same sentence as the other three but I’ve done it) have all, or still do live around here, in places that look like a little bit of paradise carved out and deposited here. Eventually we get to the part where the harbour mouth meets with the ocean and the water become remarkably choppy as the bout does a 180 and turns back into the relative safety of the harbour. It’s another of those “wonderful sight” moments as there’s very little distinction between the blue ocean and the blue sky, just a few white whispery clouds marking the difference between these two elements. I say “relative” safety because no sooner have we turned we become a floating scene from Hitchcock’s “The Birds”. You see this cruise is billed as a “coffee and cakes” cruise. Which I knew when I booked it! And so, it seems do the entire gull population of the Southern Hemisphere. It would seem that every day at about this time, what appear to be dark rain clouds head out of town. But they are in fact flocks of gulls all booked on the coffee and cake cruise as well and they wreak havoc on the poor sods who at first think that it’s fun to feed them but decide otherwise when they find out that gulls don’t really care if it’s cake or human flesh they have a go at. Ultimately there’s no choice, stay outside and get mugged or shat upon or go into the safety of the boat. Once everyone is inside, the gulls disappear as quickly as they arrived, jus a few remaining to keep watch on us like sheepdogs herding their flock, and then they too leave after checking the deck for any remaining crumbs. On reflection it’s not that bad, but I’m sure you get my drift!

Safely back on land I just make the final one hour whistle-stop tour of that other emblem that Sydney wear with pride, the Opera House. We’ve all seen it on postcards, tee shirts and adverts but up close like its elder giant relative next door, the Bridge, it really is one of the wonders of the modern world. It’s great to walk around and I’d really have liked to go on the longer morning tour but time is not on my side and just after 6pm I’m outside again, looking in and still amazed at this building and how it stays up! Hey, I’ve seen it, been in it and had the chance to buy the tee shirt, which I don’t and later regret!

That evening I dine alone at a little restaurant on the harbour side and reflect on my time in Australia. How lucky am I? The BBC paid for me to get to Melbourne and to get back to UK. All I had to do was to stump up the money for my travels after the Commonwealth Games ended. Tomorrow I travel back to Melbourne prior to heading home via Hong Kong. Before I came to Australia, I missed out on a promotion at work. Yup, I was (and still am, gutted) but hey, I’m here and they are all in cold, wet, grey miserable London. Life aint too bad!

And so following a 10 hour train journey, my final night in Australia is spent in Melbourne. I arrive late in the evening and flop out for the night at the flat I’ve been allowed to use. My flight leaves late so I’ve the best part of a very rainy and wet day left to wander around a city that I’ve absolutely fallen in love with. I got soaked but I didn’t care! I know, deep down that I’ll be coming back to Melbourne.

I'd not been looking forward to Sydney! Not the place itself I hasten to add. In one of those moment of sheer boredom, I decided, a few days earlier, to check out my hotel, The Pacific International, on the Web. On a page that allowed people to contribute their opinions on hotels around the world were the comments. " Dry vomit on the floor, dirty beds, noisy location and in a street full of sex shops". Not what you'd call favourable and all of these were playing on my mind as I travelled to Sydney on the Indian Pacific. Opening the door to room 403, I was pleasantly surprised. Double bed, en-suite, tea and coffee! It wasn't the honeymoon suite I was after (I was on my own), just somewhere clean to plonk my head for a few hours each evening. And with the realisation that it wasn't as bad as I read to believe and that Mr Barclaycard wasn't going to get stung for a few nights in a more upmarket hotel, I began to relax. A quick shower, change of clothes and then it's in to Sydney.

The hotel is strategically placed for me. I reason I chose it was that it was a short walk from the main railway station. Ideally placed to maximise my time between arrival and departure. George street, upon which the e hotel stands appears to be the backbone of Sydney. I head off into town, past the adult book store which, if it wasn't for the board above the door warning potential visitors about the shops content, could've been the entrance to any of the other ordinary shops along here. Nothing seedy or tacky! Quite a nice area it seems.

Tomorrow is the Australian Grand Prix back in Melbourne. I could've stayed for it but that would've meant less time to explore Adelaide and Sydney so I gave it a miss. Besides , I've been to quite a few GP's in England. But I'm still excited by it and on the way down the street I find a sports pub, which is showing the qualifying so in I go and consume a few pints of Guinness while watching Channel Ten.

Mark Webber is the only Australian F1 driver at the moment, chasing round mid field in a Williams car. The difference in TV coverage between this event and the Commonwealth Games is amazing. In the latter you only needed an Australian to come tenth in the synchronised nose picking event and the networks would go into overdrive covering the home grown talent. F1 however is different and the Mark just gets a few minutes of airtime almost as if the tv people realise that Williams are no longer the threat they were. Qualifying over, Jenson on Pole I head off into Sydney for a brief glimpse before I go back to the hotel, plan the next two days and drop off to a good nights sleep.

And so the train moves further on into the country, leaving behind Broken Hill and a fastly setting sun. As we travel further from the civilised world, the start studded night sky is just visible, impede by the lights in the carriage. But I can tell that it's dark outside, pitch black in fact. On the TV screen in the carriage another film begins. I don't have a clue what it is or what it's about and quite frankly I could do with some sleep. I close my eyes, turn the ipod down a bit and drift off. A couple of hours later I awake for the films credits and the night manager, the one who bid us welcome in Adelaide informs us that the main carriage lights will be turned off. All around me seasoned travellers are stretching out. Somehow they've managed to bring pillows, quilts and all the other luxuries that they'd have at home. Me? I've got my jacket and a couple of rolled up towels as a makeshift bed. I try to get comfortable in my "day night recliner". Eventually I do and close my eyes again but it's not long before the lights are turned on and daybreak is a warm up act for a spectacular sunrise over the horizon. I'd love to tell you where we are, but my Garmin GPS isn't working properly. That's not exactly true! It is, I'm not! I'd purchased the whole of Australia on a Garmin CD, loaded just Melbourne on to the device and intended to update it as I travelled. I've got my laptop and the Garmin, but foolishly I've left the Garmin specific connecting lead in my suitcase in Melbourne. So all I can tell you is that we've taken a slight detour just south west of Canberra and that we're making steady progress to Sydney.

The passing countryside changes colour. Deserted plains, red scrub gives way to a few houses, to small towns and then 27 hours after leaving Adelaide, we pull into Sydney station.