Graham was very excited to arrive at the Museum of Sydney…
Here he is enjoying the Aboriginal exhibit…
He loved the model fleet ships!
And absorbed an important life lesson on our way out.
It was a small, very cool museum, interesting design and a great intro to Australia and Sydney. I had to remind myself as I made my way around the galleries and kept bumping into people, that like traffic and toilet bowl water, people walk the “wrong” way as well, you circle counter clock-wise and keep to the left!
A good ole “American” meal
I’ve had so much Asian food the past week I’m starting to have trouble handling silverware. While it’s been fun exposing the kids to new foods and watching them try it and occasionally even like it (e.g., Julia ate salmon sushi and liked it! A real palette breakthrough for her!), I am now jonesing for a plain old American-style meal. Which I thought would be pretty similar to a plain old Australian-style meal. However, our tour guide on Saturday had explained that there had been such an influx of Asians and their culture over recent years that Asian almost was their national food now; it certainly was the case around where we lived.
The whole way home from our museum outing we searched for suitably boring cuisine and couldn’t find anything, not even Italian. So when we got home we told our concierge what we had in mind. He sent us to the RSL Club (the first five times I thought he said The Aerosol Club) around the corner, which was a “private” service men’s club that also catered to the public. You had to sign in at a front desk on the first floor and take an elevator up to the restaurant area – we never would have found it on our own. Inside was an 80s-style restaurant with mainly older gentleman sitting around having dinner. Many of them had one to two hearing aids, which was perfect for guests sharing our family’s dining space. It may not have been the dining experience of one’s dreams, but I dug into my chicken parmigiana like nobody’s business, I may as well have been at Per Se for as good as it tasted at that moment.
The whole way home from our museum outing we searched for suitably boring cuisine and couldn’t find anything, not even Italian. So when we got home we told our concierge what we had in mind. He sent us to the RSL Club (the first five times I thought he said The Aerosol Club) around the corner, which was a “private” service men’s club that also catered to the public. You had to sign in at a front desk on the first floor and take an elevator up to the restaurant area – we never would have found it on our own. Inside was an 80s-style restaurant with mainly older gentleman sitting around having dinner. Many of them had one to two hearing aids, which was perfect for guests sharing our family’s dining space. It may not have been the dining experience of one’s dreams, but I dug into my chicken parmigiana like nobody’s business, I may as well have been at Per Se for as good as it tasted at that moment.
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