Swimming, sand, and splashing

We had an epic sleep - Jemima for over twelve hours and Kevin and I for nearly 10. And when we woke up, the sun was glinting on the Harbour, the Bridge was shining, and the Opera House was looking beautiful. Hurrah for Sydney.

Jemima was very keen on another swim, so she and I went up to the pool with a view, which we had to ourselves. And, a momentous day, she managed to get her head up for breaths on her own (rather than using my support to breathe in between swimming underwater). That's it, proper swimming for the first time! At the moment it looks a bit more like drowning than swimming, but it is a definite change. Very exciting.

Our plan for the day was a ferry to Manly across the Harbour, for lunch and a potter. The forecast wasn't great, so I foolishly didn't pack any beach stuff; but the sun was still shining as we walked 5 minutes round the corner to Circular Quay, which we could see from our hotel window. We'd had a lovely boat trip during our few days in Sydney at the beginning of our Australian adventure, so we'd already seen the Quay and the Harbour; but it was lovely to see it again - not just because it's stunning, but also because it was familiar (not something that's happened to me before on this trip, which has all been new, and actually rather nice). 

Twenty minutes later we were in Manly (named in 1788 after the "manly" physiques of the indigenous people, apparently), and walked down the European-feeling Corso (a tree-shaded wide pedestrian street between the Wharf and the main beach). And there it was: Manly Beach, prime Sydney playground. And very nice too, as are all Australian beaches we've seen, but with more people and bigger waves (the life guards made stern announcements over a tannoy about swimming being forbidden except between the flags, because of dangerous currents - people were ordered out of the water, and they all obeyed).  We had a nice lunch in a cafe with a view of the water, then, of course, Jemima wanted to get on the beach. Kevin bought a new bucket and spade, and off she went, with the sand sticking to the suncream like pebbledash within seconds. 

I took the opportunity to slope off to a Seafolly shop I'd spotted on the Corso (my favourite bikinis, which I could no longer resist). When I got back after a successful purchase, Jemima was still on the sand, now with wet and sandy clothes from the waist down as well as every exposed bit of skin. Ah well. Coincidentally we bumped into two American girls (10 and 8) from our hotel, so they had a fun play; and then it was time to go home.

Back along the Corso, Jemima getting more soaked in the fountains that ran down the middle; the ferry back to Circular Quay; and home to the hotel for a bath, and the first hair wash for Jemima in quite some time, before a sandwich in the room. Kevin and I agree we don't miss normal living when we're in the motorhome, nor do we feel relieved to be back at the end. But it is very nice to have a comfortable hotel room while we're staying in the big city.