Five-Suburb Sydney Derivé: Bike Tour

What better way to experience and appreciate a city than atop a bicycle? You’re engaging with the natural topography of the land and the urban design of the city at the same time – while maintaining a cyclist’s heightened awareness of what’s around you.

At least, that’s what I’m telling myself on the first leg of the Sydney Architecture Cycling tour: a breathless climb from the Rocks up to the summit of Observatory Hill. At a time of morning when I’d typically be trekking through the land of Nod, I’m battling a 75° incline with a posse of bright-eyed and chicken-legged cyclists. And, is that…? Yes. That one’s wearing lycra.

I’m being overdramatic of course. The initiatory ascent up the hill isn’t as bad as that, and there’s a whole range of cycling experience, or lack thereof, represented in the group. Even a Sunday rider like myself is able to get through the day without any get-off-and-push moments.

And, we promise, you don’t have to be an architecture enthusiast to enjoy the trek either.

With the scruffy Eoghan Lewis as our dude of a tour guide, we pedal around the Walsh Bay finger wharves and through Barangaroo, over Darling Harbour to Ultimo, across George Street to Chippendale, Redfern, Waterloo and Surry Hills – on footpaths, laneways, quiet streets and cycleways (thank you Clover Moore).

And, every so often on our architectural treasure hunt we stop to contemplate a real gem: the impeccably green Surry Hills Community Centre; the elegant Ian Thorpe Aquatic Centre; the Reader’s Digest Building, with its imposing modern gothic face; the super-effective community housing on Jones Street, Ultimo; and the lush, feline-frequented McElhone Place, Surry Hills (‘Cat Alley’ to locals). Some of the most interesting architectural landmarks are those you wouldn’t ordinarily have looked at twice, such as the Redfern Park & Oval, which utterly transformed the character of the space it now occupies, and the Boston Uni student accommodation tucked away in Ultimo. The UTS Building, in all its unashamedly brutalist glory, is an ironic highlight too.

The conversations around these sites are fascinating, mercifully theory-free and specially catered to the group – with a couple of architects along for the ride, you’re likely to get some of the stronger stuff. In any case, the five hours positively zip by.

It’s a truly enlightening lesson in architecture and how to spot it in the wild, but it’s more than that. It’s the sort of thing that just might change the way you see and appreciate Sydney.

If only you can make it up that first hill.