every city has it's new town, and sydney has two, the newtown of my memories, and the one that exists now.
in the old days i frequented newtown, hanging out in lesbian bars and clubs with my friends who seemed to have adopted me for some reason. every night we would eat a huge meal at the singapore gourmet for 4 or 6 bucks. 
the sing gourmet was a strange place, tiny, no decor, very plain, plastic tables, printed menu on a4 paper stained with god knows what, it sat about 20 people maximum, all squished up together.
we would walk down, summer, winter spring and autumn with our ravenous appetites, walk through the front door where if we were lucky there was an empty table.
the steam from the kitchen was incredible, often filling out the whole room, making your eyes tear up and the chilli burning the back of your throat, the smell was so exotic and strange i would feel transported to some sort of asian dante's divine comedy, never really sure if i was in heaven, purgatory or hell as my sensory system adjusted to the environment of steam, noise, aromatic assaults and claustrophobic intensity. 
in the corner sat the old man, he must have been about 100 years old, always there on his table watching us through clear grey eyes.
one night i went over, said hello.
it turned out he was the owner, his wife the chief, they owned several big upmarket restaurants in sydney in the 70's all very successful and they closed them all and opened this one because they wanted to down size. he told the story with a sort of deserved pride and grace, and eventually as he knew i frequented the joint we became friends.
his wife knowing our tastes would just bring us out special dishes, stuff not on the menu, sometimes we would get a big steamed fish or some weird looking soup that tasted like an alien stew. they loved that we came every evening and appreciated their food. the girls would have this expectant joy on their faces, it was a real treat.
even when i moved away i'd sometimes drive in just to eat there and then one night i walked in and the wife told me her husband had died.
she kept going, cooking up a storm for about four years after but then broke the news she was closing up shop, the rates and rent were getting to high and she didn't want to put her prices up. 
that's the thing, newtown used to be alternative in the real sense, not an ideological thing, just a free thinking exciting place where people could express themselves without being fucking labelled or thrown in some sort of category. it was a bohemian epicentre, where the dandies could sit and share a pot of tea with the punks, where everyone who never fitted in could just be accepted, there were no politics, no methods or gurus, it was a real community. 
newtown changed just before the olympics, they cleaned it up, raised all the rents and moved the yuppie scum in, so like all underground parts of cities newtown eventually became a different culture. don't get me wrong, it's still funky and cool but it's lost it's authenticity, that moved over to petersham and annadale. 
another great spot was the bank hotel where i used to hang out in the cocktail bar on wednesday nights with some very cool ladies, what a special spot that was until they refurbished it and tore its spirit out.
newtown has some great shops, a few second hand bookshops i frequent but down the st. peters end is the fijian shop where i get my coconut fix. the fiji shop is wonderful for the spices and herbs it stocks, and right across the road is the indian shop where i can stock up on my ayurvedic gear and illegal indian herbs. 
i like this end of newtown as no one ever goes down it, none of the trendy sheep bother with this end, it's just the one spot we lone wolves can hang out.
these days whenever i am passing through king street i stop into the italian place opposite the new theatre. i've never really been a big lover of italian food, but these guys do some great pastas and on a summer night you can sit outside on the street and watch the people pass by. i've always met interesting strangers there, and had some amazing encounters with random civilians walking the kings street.
if your a visitor to sydney i'd say visit kings street, see the inner city pulse and the mix of diverse people who inhabit it. there's bound to be something there you would fall in love with.