So there I was, the first hour of my first day in Sydney, walking the busy CBD (Central Business District) during lunch-hour, just minding my own business. Staring at the beautiful Sydneysiders — the smooth banker striding along, black overcoat flying, black leather-gloved hand gripping black Gucci briefcase; the salon-finished mini-skirted blonde in high boots, flying over the pavement.

Then all of a sudden — the world stopped. Everybody froze. A Japanese couple in mid-kiss, a Jesus look-alike with a water bottle to his mouth, the banker and the blonde arrested in mid stride.

At my feet a group of teen-agers playing poker with jellybeans sat motionless with their cards. A hundred people just froze in their tracks. For a few seconds I thought I was hallucinating and stood thunderstruck in spontaneous imitation of the tableau.

And then a woman said, “It’s a flash mob!” Three minutes later it was all over. The Japanese couple unlocked, Jesus drank his water and the striders strode off... The crowd simply dispersed with no suppressed grins to betray that it was, in fact, a big practical joke.

But that’s what flash mobs are. Simply, organised mischief — just for the heck of it, to do something completely mad and whacky in the middle of an ordinary day! This one, I found out later, was organised by a Facebook network and 500 people were part of it.

And that’s Sydney really. A city that never gets overly serious about anything, and definitely not about itself. It’s a warm, relaxed, unbuttoned, latte-mad, football-obsessed, beer-swilling, surfboarding city. Even the men and women in black — under the corporate skin, they’re all unbuttoned, latte-mad, football-crazy etc. And fun is taken very seriously.

There is much to see and do, from the touristy to the arty to the naughty. You could climb the “needle in the sky” — the famous Sydney Tower, and gaze out from 260 metres high. You could climb the iconic Sydney Harbour Bridge (made with steel from Calcutta in the 1920s) — you can even get married up there, though you’ll have to forgo the wedding gown for a windproof overall.

(From top) Visitors at the Sydney Aquarium; a magnificent aerial view of the city; a Harley Davidson Motorcycle Tour gives you a flavour of the real Sydney; hot bods at Bondi beach Photographs by author

While the views are wonderful, the complex preparations before these climbs will tell you, you’re in a country where lawsuits are a mortal terror.

They dress you up in special climbing-gear, there are detailed briefings, breathalyser tests, signed declaration forms, the divesting of all jewellery and hair-clips, why — you even have to take off your wedding ring!

Then you are harnessed and counter-harnessed, given communication equipment, reassured and re-reassured, until you’re positively quaking with fright. After all that you’re taken out on the tower or bridge in an experience that’s a whole lot tamer than using the rickety lift of your old apartment block back home in India. At the end of it you are handed an impressive photo of yourself, looking, for all the world, like something out of an adrenalin charged AXN TV programme.

Likewise the Harley Davidson Motorcycle Tour, wherein you are provided with a black-leather biker jacket, black leather gloves, and a huge padded helmet that could withstand a missile attack. Then you are posed astride the Harley Davidson and duly photographed — from a low angle so you loom darkly across the frame, like Lara Croft. Then off you go for a tour of the city, riding pillion, the speedometer never crossing 60 kms/hr, insured, you’re told, for $10 million by a Public Liability Policy.

For an authentic adrenalin rush, there’s shopping! The discounts, which sometimes go up to 70 per cent at DFO and Market City on chain brands at factory outlet stores, are enough to make you weak at the knees.

Designer and street fashion, bags and boots, all at slashed prices make for an experience better than sex, even though you know you won’t be able to look yourself in the eye the morning after. And afterwards you can sit at a pleasant little street-side café, order a ham calzone, smoke that much-needed cigarette and bask in the afterglow of all those great bargains.

Sydney also has a tradition of outdoor markets on weekends at Bondi beach and Manly, which are what Anjuna and Ingo’s are to Goa. And there’s also a chance of spotting the odd celebrity browsing through the retro fashions, the Bohemian baubles and handmade jewellery.

Darling Harbour is where Sydneysiders come to play. It’s a stone-paved pedestrian precinct by the waterside, with bars and cafés, a casino, an Aquarium, a Chinese garden, galleries and museums. Alfresco cafés serve steaks, seafood platters and spit roasts.

It’s a great place to lounge by the wharf, Shiraz in hand and fried Barramundi spluttering in the pan. At sundown, the young and the restless home in on the packed bars — binge drinking is a common weekend practice.

Overlooking the Harbour are flats and penthouses that cost upwards of $7 million. In Sydney, the Australian Dream is a process of downsizing rather than the other way around. Couples begin their careers working towards a 6-bedroom house with a swimming pool in a residential suburb. Then, when the children begin to fly the nest, the houses get smaller, more expensive, closer to the city hub, leading finally to the ultimate acquisition — an exclusive apartment overlooking the Harbour.

Looking around at this elegant waterside promenade, Sydney’s most expensive piece of real estate, it’s hard to believe that till 20 years ago it was a shabby, derelict wharf, part of an old commercial port known as The Hungry Mile, a reference to the jobless workers who hung around here.

Sudhir Warrier, an Indian immigrant owns five showboats at Darling Harbour. These are flat-bottomed paddle-wheelers reminiscent of the cargo boats that plied the Harbour in the 1800s.

A multi-million dollar makeover has transformed them into luxurious floating restaurants. A troupe of six long-legged Las Vegas style showgirls (and one male dancer) in feathers and fish-net, high-step sensuously before guests as they dine.

The largely Gujarati audience watches enraptured as the towering white-skinned valkyries dance whi-le the boat putt-putts quietly past the Harbour Bridge and the iconic Sydney Opera House. It’s an amazing piece of architecture — a flutter of asymmetric wings, outspread for impossible flight.

The 2.5hr cruise, dinner and cabaret at $200 per piece, is full paisa vasooli of the kind only an Indian can provide. Sudhir arrived from Cochin 19 years ago, and started out working on these very boats — today he’s a tycoon living the Oz dream.

Such stories are the tadka in the bubbling Australian melting pot. Almost one third of Sydneysiders are born overseas, but when the sun is out, the sea is sparkling, the wine is plentiful, and there’s a living to be made, then why leave…?

Ready reckoner

Best time to visit:The Mardi Gras Festival is held in February. It’s wild. Thousands of gay people take over the streets — costumes, floats, marching drags ... all of it ending in an all-night party at the Fox Studios. Then there’s the Sydney Sleaze Ball in October, an event with spectacularly clad revellers and a feel similar to Southern Decadence in New Orleans.

Web watch: www.mardigras.org.au