Home from home

Paddington. Windsor Street. King's Cross. Sydney's town planners clearly had Blighty on their minds, and in their hearts, when they were choosing street and neighbourhood names. And the scene outside is much like home right now with horizontal rain and a howling gale. 

My friend Anne's spacious and stylish apartment, my home from home in Sydney, is on the top floor of a converted car factory...

... with views out through the eucalyptus trees and over the tennis courts opposite. The soundtrack while I'm here is the gentle thwack of racket hitting ball, and of course the Kookaburras in the gum trees. It's so wild today that a branch of one of the trees opposite breaks off and goes crashing to the road below. 

I wander up to the high street, Oxford Street (natch), and browse the shops and the Paddo's local arts and crafts market. Things seem super expensive until I realise I've been adding an extra 0. Now they're just pricey. The whole area is reminiscent of Notting Hill with its terraced houses and pastel shades, not to mention the achingly hip cafes and retro boutiques.

I also check out the Australian Photography Gallery, some great images taken by people just out shooting their own neighbourhoods – some of which I already recognise.

Then Anne joins me and we go off to the Museum of Contemporary Art to see an Anish Kapoor retrospective. 

The show features lots of those freaky mirrored forms and one room has been taken over by a gigantic metal arm sculpting red paraffin wax into grooves and mounds. It's as if Kapoor has constructed a playground with fun for all ages. Outside we're caught between the bus stop and the gallery in a sudden rainstorm, which is so fierce it blows a spoke out of my umbrella.

Out to dinner at Bar H, a stylish eatery in the Surry Hills district, where I enjoy deep fried salt bush, like a leafy tempura – really tasty with a chilli mayo dip. It's a little unsettling to see girls in micro-minis and vertiginous heels, when for weeks it has been all floaty skirts and flip-flops. Truth be told I quite enjoy my first opportunity to wear heels (and make-up) in five weeks.