Adelaide
- naomibowles
- 4 days ago
- 2 min read
Arriving in Adelaide as the sun dipped behind the mountain backdrop felt like something out of a movie. Before we’d even entered the city, we kept turning to each other saying, “I could sooo live here.” A completely irrational conclusion given we hadn’t actually seen any of it yet… but hey, call us optimists.
And to be fair, Adelaide did make a strong first impression.
The city itself is beautiful - built around expansive parklands, threaded with rivers, fairytale-like bridges, botanical gardens, lively bars, and even the local zoo. The surrounding streets seem to honour English heritage better than the UK ever could, with elegant stone homes lining every road and big bushy trees arching overhead. Painting a picture of perfect harmony between history, urban living, and biophilic design.
But then reality hit.
We quickly discovered what everyone had tried to warn us about: there is absolutely nothing going on in Adelaide. At least, not while we were there. By some incredible stroke of bad timing, we arrived during what appeared to be the only two-week period in the city’s calendar completely devoid of sporting events, concerts, festivals, or any sign of organised activity.
That’s not to say we didn’t enjoy our time there. We managed to walk through the park, visit Joe’s at Henley Beach for a sun-soaked lunch, and finished a few evenings with drinks by the river - which, in fairness, is a pretty decent way to spend your time regardless.
But the clear highlight of our time in Adelaide came from escaping it.
We booked a day tour from the wharf to head out in search of wild dolphins and quickly discovered this wasn’t your average “sit on a boat and admire nature” experience.
Our chartered catamaran came fitted with a giant net suspended beneath the front of the boat. The concept was simple: hold on while the boat accelerated and partially submerged you beneath the surface, snorkel attached, in what can only be described as a violent saltwater washing machine.
If that sounded too civilised, there was a second option: Get dragged behind the boat by a rope like human bait, clinging on for dear life and hoping for the best.
After hours of searching, we finally found them.
A pod of incredibly playful dolphins appeared and began weaving effortlessly around us, darting beneath the boat and gliding through the water with ease. Naomi in particular (pictured below, front right - swimming next to the ladder), had what can only be described as a spiritual experience after making prolonged eye contact with a mother dolphin and her calf - both seemingly just as curious about us as we were about them.
Another unforgettable experience.
Another bucket-list item ticked off.
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