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Indulgence in Sydney -A Hunt for Coffee, Cake, and Opals! ~ article by April Christine
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Women's Adventures, Vacations & Experiences ~ Your Journey Starts Here!
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It was a beautiful Saturday morning in
Sydney, and I was ready to shop. I
knew before ever arriving in Australia
that I would be in the market for a
black opal. I realize now, in hindsight,
that my market and the Sydney
market were not compatible. But at
the time, waking up on that beautiful
morning with no signs of the
long-lingering jet lag (finally!), there
was hope and promise in the air of a
fantastic stone to remind me of our
latest adventure, and our most recent
home.

Our family of three had been traveling for nearly 8 months. We arrived in Sydney in mid-
February, nearing the end of summer, with plans to stay for a month before heading north to
Queensland. I will never forget the end of our excruciatingly long flight over the Pacific when the
plane banked to the left long enough for me to get good and drunk on the view. It was the
Sydney Opera House and I felt like my insides could burst right out of me at that very moment.
We had arrived! As we “deplaned”, we were immediately sniffed by cute and cuddly
bloodhounds in search of contraband. (Australia takes their importing and exporting very
seriously.) But we were thrilled by the chance to explore every part of amazing Sydney, a near
impossible task, probably even if you’d lived there for years. We had a list and we had goals.
That particular Saturday morning, I intended to put my feet to the pavement.
We didn’t have a definite plan for our shopping excursion. My husband,
Steve, had to work that morning, so Ashleigh and I stopped for a quick
coffee, where she immediately spilled her first drink of the day. As if I was
constantly partaking in a wonderfully lucid dream, every other storefront in
Sydney was a café. In my opinion, big cities can often be a gamble, but
Sydney fits my bill. It’s a bright and vibrant metropolis. Perhaps all the
coffee joints have the entire population so hyped up before dawn that it
can’t help but be bright and vibrant. My kind of place. Ashleigh and I spent
a few minutes cleaning up her drink before heading down Pitt Street with
stars, and gems, in my eyes. Steamed milk with a shot of vanilla is much
stickier than you’d expect it to be.
We passed a cupcake shop a little further down on Pitt Street. I was
strangely drawn to the window display where there were no less than 100
mini cupcakes all perfectly decorated in nearly every color of the rainbow.
Some had chocolate nibs on top; some had those fancy little silver balls
that look like jewels in the light. There were some with delicate flower
petals, some with fruit pieces, some with cookies, and one group of
especially tasty looking cakes were tied up with beautiful ribbon. I’m an
impulse buyer – I know my weaknesses. This place had me hooked. We
stopped and bought a cupcake. And as any four-year-old girl would have
chosen, Ashleigh had to have the pink one with the rainbow sprinkles on
top.
The small storefront was no bigger than a closet inside. In hindsight, I think
they would have made better use of the space by keeping the inside for
themselves, and just handing the cupcakes over the display to the
indulgers, like me, on the street. But not realizing what I was getting
myself into, I ventured inside with Ashleigh, a backpack, and a fold-up travel
stroller.
While waiting for our order to be filled several other people tried to
squeeze inside the shop. The young girl behind the counter handed me
Ashleigh’s cupcake and started to get a little impatient as I was trying to
close up my purse and put the backpack back on. Before I could stop her
Ashleigh walked around the other side of the display counter and smacked
right into the legs of another young lady carrying a tray with hot lattes.
Startled, and nearly losing her balance she let out a yelp. This would be
where Ashleigh spilled her second drink of the day – one latte down, one
saved. I grabbed the cupcake with one hand, and Ashleigh with the other
letting the stroller fall, where it slammed into the cash register knocking
over the tip jar. Handfuls of little round coins featuring the Queen’s head
went spilling and rolling in every direction, and we were “politely” asked to
move outside. So, that will be one more store to add to my internationally-
complied list that I will not be able to visit again for fear of stoning or
flogging.
Resuming our previously interrupted mission, I was on the lookout for some
of the best and most reputable shops to purchase local opals. I spotted a
“Wholesale to the Public” opal and pearl dealer, and decided that it might
be safe to explore since Ashleigh was seated and stuffing her face with
pink icing.
This place was taken right out of an international espionage movie. My first
impression was that it had to be some kind of illegal importing/exporting
scheme; a cover to smuggle something from location A to location B, but my
curiosity had the best of me. There was a small sign out on the street with
directions to go to the 3rd floor. We took the elevator upstairs, and
emerged onto a landing in front of two separate security gates. We were
asked to state our business interests, and then buzzed through the first
set of gates. When the gate closed behind us completely we were buzzed
through the second set of gates. I had never seen this kind of security
before in a place of business and I chuckled to myself as I yielded my name,
rank, and serial number in a bewildering effort to view a few measly stones.