Culture down under

If I'm honest, Sydney is not normally a city that I would readily associate with art and culture.

However, it is now focused on utilising its stunning geographical location as a divine backdrop for serious artistic endeavours.

I'm here for Vivid (vividsydney.com), the annual summer arts festival of music, lights and ideas now in its second year. Curated this time around by Lou Reed and his wife, visual artist Laurie Anderson, Vivid is a valiant attempt to firmly put Sydney on the global cultural map.

My first glimpse of Sydney Harbour, the iconic Opera House and the Harbour Bridge in the bright sunshine is one of those fabled scenes in the showreel of life, to be treasured and stored away. The view over the harbour from the Four Seasons hotel is unsurpassable. Situated in the Rocks district, five-minutes walk from the Opera House, whose illuminated sails, replete with words and patterns, I can see at night from my hotel window.

Fancying an aerial introduction to the city, the Sydney Harbour Bridge climb takes me to the top and back in two hours. With an excellent guide and full safety harnesses, I make it up to the very top, looking down as the water looms below, a sheer 50 metre drop.

Back on terra firma, I stroll that night down Macquarie Street (one of the city's main thoroughfares) to see the illuminations of historic buildings celebrating the 200th anniversary and story of Governor Lachlan Macquarie and his wife Elizabeth.

Next day, I'm ready for some serious art. Sydney's 17th Biennale, at locations throughout the city, is an event worth crossing continents for. I take the free ferry to Cockatoo Island — a former prison, shipyard and the largest island in Sydney harbour, for a real artistic feast. Casbah by French Algerian artist Kader Attia — exhibited in a cavernous hangar, where you walk on the shanty town's corrugated roofs — symbolising first world oppression — and Ten Thousand Waves, a nine screen video installation by black British filmmaker Isaac Julien, are the highlights.

The Opera House is hosting the Rickie Lee Jones concert, held in the main theatre as part of Vivid. Jones and her band perform songs from her back catalogue. As a drug-addled, bohemian Woodstock relic-cum-raconteur, she is unbeatable.

The next morning, I walk the four kilometres to Bondi. The coastal scenery is majestic. I have an appointment with Big Wave Dave, an Oz legend to rival Mick "Crocodile" Dundee, who teaches me how to surf. Bondi literally means "water breaking over rocks" in Aboriginal languages (reminding me that, save for the odd fella busking with his didgeridoo, aborigines seem conspicuously absent from the city).

The much-hyped beach, renowned for its beautiful people and adrenalin junkie surfers, does not disappoint and Big Wave is the perfect guide to the breaks showing me that balance, composure and timing are all. Despite swallowing half of Bondi's water, I finally manage to stand on the board.

Taking advantage of my newly discovered penchant for the great outdoors, I decide to take a Manly beach bike ride. The famous ferry ride across to Manly affords dramatic city skyline views. Despite the fact I haven't ridden a bike in 20 years, I thoroughly enjoy the spectacular North Head vantage point views that my guide leads me to. Returning exhausted but contented, I sit back on the ferry and take in the sublime Sydney sunset.

Sunday morning I visit Balmain, a funky, up-and coming Islington-esque neighbourhood 15 minutes by taxi from the Rocks. Darling Street, with its
village atmosphere, great second hand bookshops, plethora of cafes and Thai restaurants, is both quaint and vibrant.

Now it's time to gauge for myself the formidable culinary reputation which Sydney has been acquiring for some while now including fashionable "Mod Oz" cuisine.