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Wide streets, one apparently with a cog railway, lead up the hill and here, too, there seem to be exclusive residential neighbourhoods. Right behind the heads, the harbour expands significantly, the shore is dotted with public pools and rowing clubs, small sailing boats criss-cross the water, but still the actual city is nowhere to be seen. We glide past 2 big
[indecipherable] and suddenly the steamship ducks around a rocky corner and the tangle of Sydney’s buildings comes into full sight. Property in the city seems to be quite expensive to judge from some huge, American-style, multi-storey buildings. Maybe for an hour we
slowly glide past posh residential areas, jetties and big commercial buildings until we finally berth at the quay of our destination. The whole harbour is huge, and Australians can rightfully boast of having one of the most beautiful in the world. The inner harbour is not unlike the port of Hamburg, only smaller, and in this wartime sparsely populated. Apart from 2 P.O. Blue Funnel steamships we only saw the French flag