A day in Sydney for FREE
Can you survive and thrive in this city on no cash? Brendan Shanahan puts the 'loading' into freeloading and packs as much as possible into one Sydney day - without spending a cent
7.30am Freegan contacts recommend the bins behind my local mall, the Broadway Shopping Centre as a place to score brekky. I arrive at the Coles loading dock, go through a garbage bag and find a packet of stale cupcakes. While I shove them into my face, truck drivers stare in pity.
8.30am From there I head to the Good Living Grower's Market at Ultimo. Pushing my way through a sea of laser-cut grey bobs I work through a UN food fight of free duck pate, smoked barramundi, wasabi olive oil, muesli bars, goat's cheese, Maltese salami and a temporarily unattended organic beef barbecue where I snaffle fistfuls of sausage and steak - suckers!
10am Fortified, I'm ready to look for free entertainment. My number one tip: the public gallery at murder trials. (Seriously, the best free show on earth.) Tragically, it's Saturday, so I head to Darling Harbour instead where I visit the Maritime Museum, Sydney's most underrated free institution. Excellent exhibition devoted to Charles Darwin and helpful old guys with cool stories about the war.
12 noon At Paddy's Markets I gorge myself on mandarin segments, grapes, chestnuts and Fuji fruit, but, other than two eggplants left on the pavement, Chinatown proves to be less of a bonanza than hoped. After a one-minute "massage sample" at Market City I take a punt and retrace my steps to the Fish Markets. My decision looks bad: there's nothing but wine tasting and I'm hungry. In desperation I ask a family if they'll give me their leftover oyster Kilpatrick. They are shocked but friendly: "Shame to waste it, mate." I wash it down with a sample glass of Verdelho. The first lesson of free stuff: ask and ye shall receive.
At the market I spy a guy selling The Big Issue - who better to ask? Unfortunately, other than soup kitchens, he has no suggestions. Dejected, I wander to where a crowd are gathered outside De Costi Seafood. Unbelievably, top quality fried squid is being doled out by the bowlful. Elbowing a determined Chinese grandmother out of my way I grab a wonton spoon and make like it's Hungry Hungry Hippos. "We're here every weekend," says the woman manning the stall, anxiously, as I finish my fifth mouthful. Walking back to the city I get a sample cupcake at some festival in Ultimo and a cup of free tea at Simon Johnson. While browsing the $300 foie gras it occurs to me that I now know more about scoring free stuff than the homeless.
2pm After lunch I head back into the city and catch a 555, the free CBD shuttle, to Wynyard. Backpacking has taught me that five-star hotels are a rich mine of the complimentary, so I investigate the Four Seasons' lobby. No luck: the toilet is magnificent but even the soap dispensers are glued down. I boost some loo paper and head to the Museum of Contemporary Art where a roster of free exhibitions and activities is complimented by a free art-themed colouring book for kids (optional Robert Mapplethorpe section).
Across the road, Customs House houses a library and international newspaper reading room, featuring everything from The New York Times to the venerable Hoju Dong-A Ilbo, and furnished with deep leather seats and Venetian chandeliers. Today there's also an exhibition and they're giving away promotional postcards of such exceptional quality that I am compelled to take eight.
Outside, a Wagnerian thunderstorm is brewing but a rainbow is actually coming out of the Opera House. Sydney Harbour: best free show on earth?
4pm Heading home, I try a few more luxury hotels - including the Marriott, Sofitel, and Hilton - but Myer is where the real value is: perfumes, moisturisers and lipstick. (Pauline Hanson's Hair is my colour.) Halfway home the storm breaks. I run to the Broadway mall. Downstairs, the refurbished Harris Farm is having a promotion. For the next half hour I eat apricot marinated chicken, ham, popcorn, sardines, cherry juice, cupcakes (what's with free cupcakes?) and two types of sausage, including wagyu beef. Ridiculous! At home I fry up the eggplant and make lemonade with fruit nicked from a local tree (legality: ambiguous) and sugar sachets swiped from a café (not really legal), then head out to do a round of liquor stores.
7pm On Saturday night free tastings are everywhere - one is giving away mini-champagne bottles! - and by the third shop I am, essentially, pissed. I meet a friend and she suggests we crash a gallery. Driving round Paddington we check the usual suspects but to no avail. Then - what's this? - an album launch at a posh pub. (A tip: when gatecrashing, walk frantically inside while on your phone, saying loudly, "We're at the gallery/party/Nicole's place now." Works every time.) Thin women are eating spring rolls and drinking free booze. The music is crap but we don't care. We open the champagne and raise a toast to thrift.
