Diary – 14 October 2005

If you’re thinking of moving to Sydney, forget it. That slice of unsolicited advice was offered when I made my third visit in little more than a year. The idea of actually settling in Sydney has never crossed my mind, but for those who are contemplating such a move the advice is sage stuff. Sydney is a city in crisis: house prices are sky high, on a par with those in London; the urban sprawl has reached its limits; the roads are clogged, and the reservoirs are running dry. I suggest to a city shopkeeper that the airport authorities should hang a ‘No Vacancies’ sign under the ‘Welcome to Sydney’ banner. He responds with a laconic smile and offers to sell me a chain of ‘No Worry Beads’. Nice try. For all their problems, Sydneysiders remain robustly optimistic and brimming with can-do self-confidence. This is evident at Bondi beach, where scores of surfers, clad in sinister black wetsuits, defy the chilly spring weather to lie in wait for the dream wave.