the flaneur in sydney

Ten days into Sydney, and I'm rediscovering the pleasure of the flaneur, that bourgeois French character, much admired by Anglos, who ambles through a city on foot, observing its life without losing himself in it.  The flaneur wanders not quite at random, but by following, at each juncture, the path of greatest interest.  Perhaps he has a general direction, but no destination is so important as to distract from the distraction of the moment.  Paris, which may express the perfect balance of destination and distraction, invented and exported the flaneur, and I'm pleased to report that flaneurie is alive and well in the labryinths of Sydney.

When I try to be a flaneur in a gridded city of North America, even one as interesting as Vancouver or Los Angeles, I cannot help but travel in straight lines.  Los Angeles, in particular, is a city whose drama and richness are laid thickly along the vast boulevards that rush to the horizon; rarely does a side street offer an interesting enough prospect to inspire a turn.  San Francisco's hill-shredded grids, studded with alleys and stairways, are more conducive to the flaneur's aimlessness, but those steep hills also require Big Consequential Decisions -- climb the hill or not? -- and consequence is the antithesis of flaneurie.  To achieve the necessary lightness, the flaneur must navigate only by the smallest whims, his lefts and rights guided by the slightest hint that left, and now right, is what calls.

Sydney is the perfect city for the flaneur, at least the vast part of it laid down in the 19th century.  Like London, Sydney grew up around trails -- some even defined by the Aboriginals -- that curve with the gentle topography.  Neighourhood streets sometimes have little grids, but straight lines are always brief and tentative.  Nineteeth Century Sydney grew by accretion, without consideration of larger consequences or the pursuit of a larger plan.  You could say that its development was much in the spirit of the flaneur:  Build whatever comes next, whatever way suits us at the moment.  Today, Sydney is famously frustrating for anyone with a destination, but the sheer disorder of it, the impossibility of navigation, forces everyone to be a bit of a flaneur, and thus makes the flaneur feel at home.

That last link points to a map of Paddington, where Sydney's usual rows of terraces are scrambled into a knot so  impenetrable as to mandate flaneurie.  Here it is from my window:

Paddington lies between me and the beach, so on long walks aimed vaguely at saltwater I must thread this labyrinth and resist -- but why resist? -- its endless byways and alleys.  I've spent all afternoon getting across this one district, barely a kilometre wide.  Just beyond it lies another delight, which I found only by choosing minor streets to avoid the towers and traffic of Bondi Junction.  A complete rainforest gully, including gentle Tolkeinesque structures that reveal the most innocent fantasies of the Bondi bourgoisie:

Such detail is everywhere.  Soon I will begin strolling around industrial parks near the airport in order to meet my need for visual tedium.  It's true, I've been tempted ...

Comments

[Peter]

This idea of the flaneur is fascinating. It describes some of my most vivid dreams, the ones in which I'm heading somewhere but I get distracted, the dream ending with a vague sense that I'm lost and fine.

Perhaps municipalities here in North America should fire planners and hire flaneurs. We generally have only pockets of places that might interest a flaneur, somone wishing to find "the perfect balance of destination and distraction." Some spots are good for an hour or two but not complete enough to possibly get lost in. Sort of heavily identified quaint zones.

[jenny]

Welcome to Sydney - happy navigating around its maze of streets. (BTW: I discovered this blog via Feathers of Hope)

[Jarrett]

Peter

As a planner myself, I would have to resist your suggestion. Though flaneurie should be part of the planner's discipline. For that matter, it would make a great competitive collegiate sport: compete to see who can act on the subtlest inclination. Not sure how you'd score it, though.

[Pica]

Having just returned from London, indulging in the most flagrant flanerie, I'm happy to see this, Jarrett.

Never worrying about getting "lost" because London is still skeletally familiar to me even after an absence of nearly 30 years, but delighting in the meandering I never allowed myself to do before. There were times when I'd hop on a bus (thanks to the Oystercard) to save my feet without really knowing where it would end up but not caring, either. (Wandering along the South Bank doesn't really count because there's such an obvious trajectory it doesn't encourage or even really allow, in a subconscious way, deviation from the River, but what a delicious thing to do on a Sunday afternoon...)

Hope you're settling in!

[Meredith]

Dear Creature,

I've just come across your blog & like it a lot. I moved to Sydney from Melbourne 17 years ago and the first thing I noticed (along with the humidity and the sandstone) was the streets-with-no-logic. I just love them, although I miss all Melbourne's arcades (another flaneur's favourite!) Industrial wastelands have their own charms... there are some lovely meanders around Tempe (between the airport and the Princes Highway) that include 19th Century weatherboard cottages juxtaposed with piles of shipping containers.

[mark]

for anyone who has the opportunity to do so, montreal is extremely flaneurable.

[Orlando Hotels]

Sydney is good city to visit. Me and my friend have planned small tour there. It was really difficult to find out a good spot but with the help of LMT , we get a good hotel at very good price. Now we are going there next week. :-)