Sydney: Some Notes

Twelve days in Sydney taught me three things: Australian coffee really is better, the sun will burn you even when you think it won’t, and Clam Bar is worth whatever flight you have to take to get there.

I stayed at the Meriton Suites on Kent Street. What it had going for it was location: about a ten‑minute walk to the office, a grocery store around the corner, and plenty of cheapish food nearby. The gym was serviceable. The pool looked ideal for laps, but I’m not much of a swimmer.

What it didn’t have going for it was much else. Housekeeping was sporadic and indifferent, the elevators were slow and unpredictable, the lobby was sparse, and the weekend clientele skewed loud. It did the job, but just barely.

The last time I was in Sydney—almost exactly ten years ago—I stayed at what was then the Westin at Martin Place, now the Fullerton Hotel. I’d choose that over the Meriton any day. I like space and a kitchen in theory, but in practice I value daily housekeeping and room service more. I’ve also heard good things about the Langham, tucked away on a quiet street, and the Four Seasons at Circular Quay, with its knockout views of the Harbour Bridge. The brand has rarely let me down.

If you’re new to Sydney, Circular Quay is the obvious place to start. From there it’s an easy walk to the Opera House and the Rocks, or a quick ferry ride to Taronga Zoo or Manly Beach. If you can manage it, see a show at the Opera House. If not, take a tour. It really is spectacular.

My first real outing in Sydney is always the zoo. Staying awake that first day is key to killing jet lag, and the ferry ride to Taronga is mercifully short. Once there, you walk all day—usually in full sun, though this time rain made an appearance. Not enough to deter the animals. The bird show is a must, the insect show is less creepy than advertised, and the chimpanzees, kangaroos, and giraffes are worth lingering over.

We took an early Saturday ferry to Manly, which turned out to be a smart move. By noon, the sun was vicious. The Australian sun is not like the U.S. sun—it will take you out, even if you think you’re prepared. When we arrived, the beach was closed due to a shark sighting, which was its own kind of spectacle. Fifteen minutes later, surf rescue declared it safe, and we swam. The waves are strong, so unless you’re a confident ocean swimmer, it’s best to stay close to shore.

After a few hours of water and sun, we crossed the street for fish and chips at the top‑rated spot by the beach. It was exactly what we needed. We spent the rest of the afternoon drinking and taking in the view at the Hotel Steyne rooftop, then did some swimsuit shopping at Budgy Smuggler and Baku Swimwear. Australians know swimwear. Their aesthetic is closer to the U.S. than what you’ll find in most Brazilian stores, and the salespeople have that sunny Australian charm. We had a lot of fun. We also spent a lot of money.

Sunday mornings at Bondi are a scene, and not a subtle one. By 9 a.m. the beach was packed with families, surfers, and tourists like us. The waves were aggressive, and the flagged swimming area kept shrinking. The water was brisk and refreshing in the height of summer. We walked from Bondi to Bronte before calling it. You can continue on to Coogee, but between the sun and the surf, we were done.

I spent Sunday afternoon wandering Haymarket and Darling Harbour. The ships at the Maritime Museum merit a visit. Greater Sydney is expansive but surprisingly walkable; it’s easy to clock 30,000 steps just exploring neighborhoods. Go beyond the CBD if you can—Surry Hills and Newtown are worth the detour.

Near the Meriton, I found refuge in Abbey’s Bookshop. Its selection of Australian history, crime thrillers, and science fiction—my natural habitats—was excellent. I spent a few quiet hours perusing the shelves and felt victorious when I managed to leave with only three books.

Sydney has a great music scene, but work and jet lag kept me on the sidelines. On a slower trip, I’d make time for venues like Oxford Art Factory or the Trocadero Room. I did manage one cultural outing: Dear Son at the Belvoir Street Theatre. Based on a collection of letters between Aboriginal fathers and sons compiled by Thomas Mayo, it was moving and quietly powerful.

Sydney’s restaurant scene is dynamic. I ate out often, across a wide range of places, and rarely had a bad meal. The coffee, without exception, was excellent.¹

Clam Bar — If you go to one restaurant in Sydney, make it this one. Clam Bar is pitch‑perfect. The décor leans mid‑century modern with a wink: vintage tinned‑fish ads, a fake fish trophy, and shelves of carefully staged condiments. The service is warm and genuinely attentive. Our server was charming, and every recommendation landed.

I was doing Dry January, and even the mocktails impressed. I started with a spritz and finished with a raspberry cordial—complex, well‑balanced, and a reminder that mocktails don’t have to be an afterthought.

We followed our server’s lead and ordered the anchovy toast and tuna tartare to start. The toast was crisp outside, tender inside, topped with pickled peppers and perfectly seasoned grilled anchovies. The tartare came with crisped smashed baby potatoes; the contrast between crunchy potato and silky fish was spot‑on. For mains, we shared a beautifully cooked New York strip with béarnaise and a classic pasta alla vodka. Dessert was a coconut‑lychee granita—light, clean, and exactly right. It was the best meal I had in Sydney.

King Clarence — An inventive Asian‑fusion spot and my first proper meal in Sydney. The menu is organized by plate size, and if I hadn’t been dining solo, I would’ve ordered far more. The standout was the fish‑finger bao: messy, unexpected, and delicious. A perfect rainy‑afternoon meal. At 3 p.m. the restaurant was nearly empty, which made the club music feel premature, and the staff seemed more focused on the upcoming dinner rush than the few of us there.

Katsu Haki — A simple stall inside the Event Cinemas complex. I took mine to go. The pork katsu was crisp, not greasy, and delicately seasoned. A solid, efficient dinner.

Harbourfront Seafood Restaurant — The view is spectacular—unless a massive cruise ship is docked, as it was the night we went for a work dinner. Even so, sitting outside with a few bottles of crisp Australian white made for a pleasant evening. The seafood was fresh and well prepared. Highlights included the pan‑roasted Humpty Doo barramundi and grilled Moreton Bay bugs, which are small, lobster‑like shellfish.

Jimmy’s Falafel — I try falafel everywhere I travel. Jimmy’s does it well: crisp balls with subtle seasoning, excellent vegetables, and standout sauces. A great quick lunch.

Industry Beans — Most mornings I stuck to a protein smoothie, but one day a colleague talked me into a second breakfast here. The coffee is excellent, and the all‑day brunch menu is as thoughtfully constructed as the drinks. The breakfast roll elevated the humble bacon‑and‑egg sandwich into something layered and satisfying.

Bungalow 8 — A nightclub at night, but at lunch the calamari was some of the best I’ve had, and the steak was perfectly decent.

Humble Bakery — I didn’t need a massive slice of carrot cake. I ate it anyway. It was excellent.

Coogee Pavilion (Ground Floor) — Nicely cooked barramundi and impressively crisp chips.

Fins & Ribs — Beachside fish and chips hit the spot. The mixed fried plate—shrimp, calamari, soft‑shell crab, and cod—was exactly what it should be. The crab was the standout.

Hotel Steyne — We skipped the food, but the rooftop is a pleasant place for a drink. Bonus points for packaging iced coffee in take‑away cans.

Morrison’s Oyster Bar & Grill — Attentive service, tasty grilled clams, a well‑cooked steak, and excellent madeleines. There were five. I ate three and took the rest home. Next time I’d trade the broccoli for chips.

Butterboy — Giant cookies topped with soft‑serve ice cream. An unapologetic sugar bomb. I made it halfway.

Jam Record Bar — Go for the vibe not the food. The drinks are tasty even the mocktails.

Pocket Bondi — Prime location across from North Bondi Beach, good coffee, very attractive servers. The bacon‑and‑egg roll was fine but unremarkable. Stop if you’re nearby; don’t go out of your way.

Fishbowl — Think Sweetgreen, Australian‑style, with a bit more flavor. Dependable, fast, and healthy‑ish.

Kent Street Hotel — The pub downstairs from the office, unofficially dubbed the “downstairs conference room.” Popular for its convenience and cheap lunch specials, including a $15 steak with chips and salad on select days.

Ho Jiak — Widely recommended, but it didn’t land for me. Perfectly edible, just not memorable.

Nene Chicken — Bland Korean‑style fried chicken. I was tired. I should have known better.

Frangos & Nando’s — Fast grilled chicken chains. Efficient, forgettable.

Sydney's worth the flight. I'd return for many reasons. Mostly Clam Bar. Somewhat coffee.