I was wrong – Sydney is the greatest city in Australia. This is why it puts Melbourne to shame, writes PAUL SHAPIRO

A wise bloke once said only a true man can admit when he’s wrong.

Well, I can admit I was very wrong when I called Sydney a complete hellhole.  

I would like to apologise to readers who were upset when I absolutely sh**-canned Sydney when I visited in December.

Some readers said I was a ‘depressed loser’ and, in hindsight, they were probably right.

But I’m now mostly over my melancholy, largely thanks to my visit to the Harbour City last Saturday. 

Me and my mate, Mark, made the annual pilgrimage to Australia’s best racetrack – Royal Randwick – for the Queen Elizabeth Stakes.

The $5million race, in my opinion, has now surpassed the Cox Plate as the ultimate thoroughbred contest on Australia’s racing calendar. Only the best horses compete in the 2000m classic won this year by super-mare Via Sistina.

I’ve been to the Queen Elizabeth Stakes several times with highlights including witnessing racing legend Lonhro’s last race in 2004, and Winx conquering the field in her 2019 farewell. 

It was Mark’s first time at Randwick Racecourse, and only his second time in Sydney since he was a child (he hadn’t even seen the Opera House).

Before the trip, I warned him we’d just stay in our hotel room and go to the track. 

‘There’s nothing worth doing and you’ll hate Sydney, it’s a deranged metropolis and we need to get in and out quick,’ I told him. 

But ever the tourist, he insisted we spend at least two hours exploring the town before we became intoxicated in our hotel room.

I begged him to reconsider but ultimately caved, and now I’m forever grateful to my good friend after experiencing Sydney the way it should be experienced. 

Let’s get started with the public transport, and Victorian Premier Jacinta Allan should take note – the train from the airport was fast, comfortable and on time.

Transport staff were friendly and helpful, and stations were well marked with clear directions. We easily found out way from Central Station to the light rail – which was a revelation. 

The light rail was also comfortable and quick, and I don’t think we had to wait longer than four minutes to catch one.

Premier Allan is flogging a dead horse with her multi-billion dollar white whale more commonly known as the Suburban Rail Loop while Melbourne remains without an airport train.

Premier, please look to Sydney for inspiration and do whatever it takes to get a functioning, easy-to-use rail link from the airport to the city.

It surely can’t be that hard.

The Victorian government could also take a look at Central Station’s revamp while Melbourne’s Metro Tunnel Project languishes with budget blow-outs and rumours train frequency will be diminished.

And the public servants responsible for upgrading our stupid Myki system, have you seen what they’re doing in Sydney?

They have a thing called the Opal card which we tourists never had to worry about because the streamlined Sydney PT system includes an easy-to-use function where passengers can tap their personal bank and credit cards for easy access.

I’m sure the Opal card is a lot better than Melbourne’s extremely over-budget dud Myki system which is infuriatingly hard to top up. I’m almost certain the coming  upgrade will probably manage to make things worse.

Back to the light rail, and our L1 went directly to our accommodation at The Star Hotel and Residencies, which had its own stop.

We arrived at The Star Hotel about three hours early (due to the unexpected ease and efficiency of the public transport system) and it was no problem to leave our bags there while we waited for our room to be ready.

We took our chance to visit Paddy’s Markets, which, honestly, had better stores than Melbourne’s renowned Vic Market (not including the fresh produce and meat).

We then dined at a noodle house in Chinatown where I ate the most delicious homemade fried noodles I’ve had in the world, plus some dumplings, while sinking a BYO can of Asahi with a zero corkage fee. The whole meal came in under fifty bucks.

The staff were friendly and suggested the meals we should eat. I don’t think we have that kind of service or price anywhere in Melbourne’s inner-city suburbs let alone the CBD.

Next, we walked up to George Street where JD Sports and Foot Locker failed to have any sneakers I wanted to buy, but that wasn’t Sydney’s fault.

We then caught the light-rail (we were getting very used to it by now) to Circular Quay where the sun was shining and the birds were tweeting and me and Mark were in awe of the harbour, the bridge and the Opera House.

By this stage, The Star had texted me to let me know our room was ready two hours before check-in so we headed back. 

I felt like James Bond when staff told us our bags had been taken to our two-bedroom room.

We bought some beers at a nearby Liquorland – where the staff member told us they’d been robbed seven times in two days – then took them back to our room.  

We transferred our beers to plastic cups, and drank them at what I reckon is the best hotel pool area in Australia.

The pool deck had two spas, a lap pool, two saunas, a fully staffed poolside bar. As an added bonus,  absolutely no-one cares if you drink a beer in the pool – as long as there is no glass.

I could’ve stayed there all night but Mark wanted to check out the nightlife.

I warned him it’s expensive and everything shuts early but once again, like I’m pretty sure Dirty Harry said, I was wrong.

We met some wonderful work colleagues of mine at a pub called the Evening Star in Surry Hills which served us two for $20 top-tier quality cocktails, then $6 gin and sodas until it was time for my bedtime.

Let me put these prices into context: I was recently at a bar in Melbourne’s CBD  where I paid $42 for two vodka and sodas… and $18 for a pint at an inner-city pub is now commonly accepted in my town. 

Next day it was track time. We made our way to the famous Royal Randwick thanks to an easy light rail, door-to-door service. The Victorian Government should consider making public transport to Flemington Racecourse just as easy.

Randwick is such a world-class track. Friendly staff, no wait times, no queuing for hours, even’s Sydney’s Tarocash Army (drunk bogans) weren’t as embarrassing as Melbourne’s version.

We met our favourite horses, Ceolwulf, Fangirl and Via Sistina, checked out the internationals led by Dubai Honour and got in earshot of the world’s best trainers and jockeys.

The Australian Turf Club should be extremely proud of what they’ve built the old Easter Carnival/Sydney Cup Day into.

I also won $420 with my first bet of the day when Arapaho won the Sydney Cup at $21 so that always puts an extra shine on the day.

After a fantastic time, we painlessly caught the light rail after the last race back to bustling Surry Hills where it was packed with people enjoying drinks outside in the mild evening. 

We walked past the Shakespeare Hotel and the Strawberry Hills Hotel which were both rocking, before returning to the Evening Star for our last hurrah.

It was then back to our favourite Chinese noodle house where every outdoor seat was occupied with customers having a great and cheap night out.

The long two days had caught up to us so me and Mark went back to our comfortable room with a couple beers and watched Cujo on TV before passing out.

The next morning it was a late check-out and simple train back to the airport before catching the plane home.

The only thing we didn’t do was go to a beach and I still maintain my stance (made clear in my last article) that everyone hates going to the beach.

I’m a Melbourne boy and I’ll always call my city home, but geeze it is so expensive here,  and we don’t demand service or quality like we use to.

Melbourne needs to swallow a hard-pill and admit that Sydney does a few things a lot better.

I now can’t wait to visit the Harbour City again.

By the way, we were not paid or given free access to services or products by the Star Hotel, or the Australian Turf Club, or any other business or organisation mentioned in this article.

It was all on our own dime.