I was elated that Sydney seemed to be having a good start. It’s greyed over now and drizzling, but I’m still positively engaged with the prospect of wet laundry hanging around my house.

Name one country that can’t cheat its way through the World Cup?

We were told the the current El Niño would bring a dryer than normal winter, but no one told the weather goods. I don’t mind the rain, but I’m a line dryer, so there’s a backlog. Bourke Lane in Sydney’s Redfern is named after Sir Richard Bourke, Governor of NSW, 1831-38.

On a cold, wet Sydney morning I find myself near my first home in Surry Hills. This old warehouse has been many things in my time in the area, including a book storehouse. This is Bennett Place, named after Samuel Bennett, a typesetter (compositor) who started the Evening News in 1867.

I went for a walk along the creek below Sydney’s Northbridge, it was amazing to be in the bush this close to the city.

I’m standing on the Sydney Harbour Bridge looking into empty rooms in the famous brutalist apartment building, the Sirius. Built as social housing, those people booted out and now between $1.6 and $35m per apartment. The ghosts of the dispossessed will haunt those rich bastards.

Join me, Tim Ritchie, for 2 hours of new and re-newed music on When The Levee Breaks, Saturday 6-8pm on the mighty 2SER. There's even a nod to the first dance show on Australian radio, the 12" Singles Show. Click the link for the track list. wp.2ser.com/episodes/whe...

I tend to take pics of the city empty of people, but on a crisp clear winter’s morning, where White Bay meets Johnstons Bay on Sydney Harbour, a boatie made an entry.

First light pushes through dawn clouds on the horizon as the stars still flicker above and the sea bubbles around Sydney’s Bronte Beach Ocean Pool.

Originally named Glebe Island Bridge, the ANZAC Bridge was renamed on Remembrance Day in 1998 to honour the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. Another delightful winter’s dawn in Sydney, maybe a shower or two, and warmer than it should be.

Commenced in the 1890s, and named after a princess of course, Sydney’s Alexandra Canal was to give us the “Birmingham of Australia”. Silting issues, shallow draft and a depression meant it was largely abandoned. Dumping of chemicals, blood and offal resulting in the nickname, the stinky canal.

This Moreton Bay Fig and I have some history. While at Uni, I lived in Sydney’s Kirribilli, and visited this Harbourside tree often, and many decades later, I still visit it regularly. Before dawn, it is very quiet and calm at this spot, but the city will wake soon.

Sun shower, rainbow, Moore Park. A Sydney winter.

A still pond at Sydney’s Centennial Park while dawn clouds scud across the sky.

I’m peering into a pedestrian railway underpass tunnel in what was called Macdonaldtown. There’s not enough space here to explain the grim tale behind this Sydney story, search it out if stories of death and crime are your thing.

A grey and wet early start to a Friday at the boat shed, Double Bay, Sydney’s. A longish exposure has flattened the rain and blurred the swaying yachts.

Replacing a wooden manually operated swing bridge, the world’s oldest electronically operated swing bridge opened in 1902. The Pyrmont Bridge connects the western side of Sydney City to Pyrmont. On a rainy early morning, I check out the details of the balustrade.

Distillery Drive in Sydney’s Pyrmont gets its name from a large-scale industrial ethanol distillery. It was originally built to process molasses—a by-product of CSR's sugar refining business. The entire slope down to the water was historically known as Distillery Hill. Now housing for the wealthy.

Railway Lane in Sydney’s Newtown is named after the railway line that runs parallel, genius at work.

Newer parts of cities might have great infrastructure and shiny new gutters etc, but give me the grit of an old inner city alley every day. Sophia Lane in Sydney’s Surry Hills has lured me to its welcoming shadow for a long time. This dog leg of fear hooks me in and wraps me in delight.

The night soil lanes remain, but only memories of the night soil man linger. I love Sydney’s old parts, this one is in Surry Hills.

Saturday mornings at Sydney’s Waverley Cemetery can be busy with walkers and joggers, but on a cool clear sunrise, it was just be and a very sedentary group.

What was called Tumbalong for millenia, was renamed Long Cove in the 1800s, then after much land reclamation, became known as Darling Harbour. It was a maritime and railway hub. These finger wharves were part of a working Sydney Harbour. Now for the wealthy.

Sydney’s Double Bay doesn’t have a specific Indigenous name, but sits in an area called Wallara/Willarra, which is the Dharug word for Woollahra. I’ve taken an expansive view of the bay on a beautiful winters dawn.

I love my daily dance with the weather pixies. Sometimes they offer long clear landscapes, occasionally grey mornings. Today had the briefest flash of glamour, and Sydney Harbour was the place to be.

A cool clear Sydney dawn gave me the opportunity to capture a piece of banal 90’s commercial architecture. Nice lines and angles, but could be anywhere in the world.

Sydney’s winters are pretty mild compared to some places, but we like to rug up like we’re closer to the South Pole. Cars, on the other hand, sit naked in the night with the only cover being a light coat of dew. This rear windscreen has such a garment with an added fallen leaf.

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Ruby (the dog) and I just caught short our walk when I looked south.

There’s a pedestrian and cycle bridge that goes over a tollway that connects Sydney’s Woolloomooloo to the back of the Art Gallery of NSW. I know the wire mesh is to stop people dropping items onto cars, but I don’t know why there’s a blue/purple light over the road.

Gurrajin, now also known as Elizabeth Bay, was a fishing village Governor Lachlan Macquarie set up for displaced Aboriginal people. The famous Bungaree led these people. This morning was a little warmer than expected, the yachts were still sleeping.

In 1825, the Governor of NSW (his name was Brisbane) granted land that became Cooper’s Brisbane Brewery, this lane was within the boundaries and was called Brisbane Lane. In 1905, it was renamed Sutherland Lane. It feels a bit ominous in the dark hours.

Even on a grey start, Sydney can still manage a bit of sparkle.

Looking up at UTS.

The forecast is for showers. I think I shall not listen to the pundits as the hit miss ratio is underwhelming. Sydney’s Rushcutters Bay was pearling on this rather delightful dawn.

Near the Sydney Harbour Bridge (you can see a pylon lower left) on the southern side is The Rocks to the east and Millers Point on the western side. There are some wonderful alleys. This is Parbury Lane in Millers Point, foot and bicycle traffic only.

First light over Sydney Harbour on a chilly early morning as most sleep in on the long weekend Monday, but not me. I’m here to witness the inky depths and the gentle breeze rolling over the surface.

Construction of the Sydney Opera House started in 1959 when Australia was a mostly conservative, inward looking nation. It’s hard to fathom that white, middle class, traditionalist blokes let Jorn Utzon design take shape. (Well there was a lot more to it really)

There’s very little new aerosol art in Sydney’s Surry Hills with the exception of commissioned portraits of footy stars, to find the old pieces, back alleys must be sort. This one is in Fitzroy Lane which was named after Sir Charles Fitzroy who was Governor of NSW 1846-1855.

What a time to be alive, weird days, so I invite you to join me, Tim Ritchie to join me for 2SER's When The Levee Breaks for two hours of righteous music delights. Saturday, June 6 1800-20000. Click on the link for tracks list: wp.2ser.com/episodes/whe...

Diversity is the key, if every morning was a bright and clear day, nothing would be special. Even on a drab, grey Sydney winters dawn, Centennial Park delights with a pond of ducks.

A sunrise, clouds, a jet, a container ship and a rock jetty make this Botany Bay winter scene. And typical of Sydney, I’m at a spot named after an English seaside resort town. Our Ramsgate is not in Kent.

Sunrise approaches behind me as a cool breeze ripples the inky waters of Sydney Harbour. On a clear winter’s day, a couple of icons pose for the shot.

Some light rain overnight, showers possible later, but as I stalked the back streets of Sydney’s Surry Hills at dawn, the clouds above seemed harmless.

The stars and moon align.

The local Dharawal people called Bondi - Boondi or Bundi. The names translates to water breaking over rocks, but on this cool Sydney dawn, the water was rather tranquil.

High hopes under low clouds. Construction in Sydney.

If you like rain, Sydney is the place to be this week. So I wandered just a few metres from my back gate to get as colourful a dawn as I could with the help of the walls on Ridge Place in Surry Hills.

Let me pull a rabbit out of my hat. Harbour Bridge, North Sydney & and Kirribilli - vanished.

I have a special friend that shows me new delights each time I visit. Little Riley Street runs almost the entire length of Sydney’s Surry Hills. It weaves, narrows, pauses, stops and starts, mostly denies vehicle passage and best of all…. holds stories from times recent and old.