Growing up in Sydney, I knew the city prided itself on its “first light culture” long before the state government made it the focal point of its tourism campaign. It’s hard to miss the golden rays lighting the masses returning in their Lycra from runs in Centennial Park or surfing Bondi’s waves long before the work day has even begun. For one glorious morning, I joined them getting myself up to go to a 6am pilates class followed by a dip in the ocean. The beauty of the morning combined with the supercilious sense of having accomplished so much before my alarm normally went off was intoxicating.
There was only one problem. I cannot get to bed early to save my life.
