Sydney, Australia: first step through the planet-glass.

On the ground in Sydney. Airport is sleek and airy, air temperate, an easy change. I ask A if she notices any difference in the light, and she says it is "crisper", more UV and blue, just like what I saw when I first arrived in NZ. It's the ozone hole.

Gas is cheaper. No, that's the price per liter. Gas is about$4/gal, almost $3 in SF. Typical Americans we are.

The tech sheets of steel and glass give way to brick and British style mixed with Moroccan strett fronts with intricate wrought iron. Brit block-style housing, all run together. Plants bristle in concrete everywhere. All block sizes seem smaller here, which seems nice, more human. Plenty of bicycles.

Turns out our hostel, which shows every sign of under-investment, from creaky stairs and dismal paint to a front desk person who barely speaks English (proximity to Asia), is technically in "Chinatown", though I doubt that such districts are well-defined in this century. In fact it sits on a busy street, its front stair drooping off onto a narrow sidewalk. As we stepped out, an enormous white cockatoo swooped through a parking lot between the blocks of flats, screeching imprecations. Soon we realize that these raucous, yellow-crested birds throng the city in organized, noisy flocks, keeping the few pigeons on notice.