On Sunday I decided to stay in the city so I could make Ann's early return flight at Mascot on Monday morning. Having already experienced the 6am carpark that is the M5 for the short stretch to the airport a fortnight ago, I craved no repetition. It was more expensive to stay in the CBD, but I had merely to stroll out onto Castlereagh Street from my hotel at 7am, locate some good coffee from a wide range of options, then hop on the train to the airport at Town Hall. I was at T1 by 7.20.

The day before I had had plenty of time after check-in to wander the city and be the flaneur. From Circular Quay to Chinatown and precincts beyond, I strolled without any particular plan, allowing myself (not easy for a goal-centred walker) the chance to follow crowds wherever they lead. It was genuinely pleasant. In the course of three hours, I wandered through the large cool rooms of the Museum of Contemporary Art, navigated alleyways and markets in The Rocks, jostled with shoppers in Chinatown and watched people watching the passing afternoon in outdoor cafes. In Martin Place, a wedding shoot was in progress. A Chinese couple, newly married, were posing in front of an impressive pile at the George Street exit. In the foreground was a homeless man begging for coins. It was a earnest juxtaposition.