The Sydney Aquarium

Everyone told me that this was a must, you must "go find Nemo" (a joke that has gone well past its use-by-date I now realise, those poor aquaruim staff). So off we went. Actually, that seems to imply a certain degree of haste, but with the huge crouds there wasn't much forward movement, not in the queue, and not in the aquarium either. Prams and off road buggies constantly nudging your shins, children screeming that they had located Nemo on a frisbee in the gift shop, kiddies banging at the fish tanks or sticking their fingers into starfish... I don't want to get al New Age on you but I began to feel a little uncomfortable with the whole show. I will not argue the case as to a fishes level of consciousness, or the level of humaine conditions they lived in, or indeed the educational benifits of exposing people to creatures they had never imagined existed, but I do feel strongly enough about the water around the whole Noah's Ark to pipe up here: Between the hub and the seperate shark pod was a gangway over the harbour, and there gently bobbing in the oil slick was a chilie bin (which I recently learnt is an esky in Australian), and a selection of dining-ware from that fine restaurant we have all come to love, the one run by the clown..., and other detritus. It is the only photo I took of my experience there, and one that I think is more important that a snap of a sparkly snapper.