Nothing To Write Home About

It’s hot and humid today.  We took Buddy out to Folly Point this morning but it was a relief to get back to the coolness of Sarah’s apartment.   I’ve been attacked by mosquitoes and the bites are driving me to distraction.  We had lunch outside and then moved back indoors to catch up on some episodes of Poldark.  Even the dark, brooding looks of Ross Poldark and wonderful Cornish scenery could not stop me from falling asleep; it’s not healthy to drink wine at midday.  I awoke to find Buddy stretched  out on the sofa next to me snoring loudly, and no sign of Paul.  He had given up completely and gone to bed for a siesta.

Sarah will not be pleased when she reads this and realises that her parents have not been active during the day and out sight seeing (seen it all before), surfing (sea is too cold), shopping (don’t like shopping), cycling (likely to get attacked by emus), etc.

Severe thunderstorms forecast for the Sydney area tonight.

P.S.  I'm not making it up about the emus - two cyclists were attacked in Canberra at the weekend by a male emu while cycling through the forest.

Escape

The tree men arrived early this morning and started to cut down the jungle in next door’s garden.  The constant whine of a chain saw and crashing branches was not at all pleasing so we headed down the hill with picnic blanket, chilled coffee and kindles.  We found the perfect spot away from the hustle and bustle.  Nice view too!

The Party

escalator leading down to the depths of the Tramsheds

 
 I lied.  It wasn’t exactly a party.  Apparently drinks in a wine bar and dinner do not constitute a party.

Paul and I jumped on the bus to the city centre.  It was the wrong bus.  The ten minute ride took half an hour but it was very pretty.  Then we fought against the oncoming tide of commuters as we walked through the wide thoroughfares of the Central Business District.  I noticed that all the business women were wearing trainers and backpacks instead of high heels and brief cases, very sensible.

We met Sarah in the Kittyhawk Bar.  The noise was horrible so we moved to a quieter and more sedate bar, more suited to old fogeys. Time seemed to stand still so we had a second glass of bubbly.  Then Paul realised his watch had stopped. We were joining friends for an Egyptian dinner at the  trendy Tramsheds.  The bearded one had told us it was easy to get to by Light Railway.  We left the bar and joined the commuter rush.  We took the train to Central and then looked around the giant concourse for the Light Railway.  We were directed down a long tunnel, turn left, turn right, up an escalator, down an escalator,we were walking for ages.  Eventually we saw the letter ‘L’ and arrived at a dimly lit platform.  Five minutes later a tram chugged slowly into view.  A tram! We rolled out of Central Station at walking pace and arrived at our destination about half an hour later.  By which time I had my grumpy head on.

The Tramsheds is a massive old, er, tramshed which is now home to a huge food hall with restaurants and shops offering cuisine from all corners of the world.  We ate at an Egyptian-fusion restaurant “While the contemporary, casual concept starts in Eqypt it pulls in influences from around the Middle East.”  Yes, well it was very tasty food and my grumpy head disappeared once I had a glass of wine in my hand.

At the end of the evening we decided to abandon public transport in favour of a taxi.  Uber might be compromising the regular taxis but it is extraordinarily efficient.  Sarah presses something on her Smartphone and almost immediately the Uber taxi magically appears.  The ‘phone even pays for it! 

We’re staying in tonight and Paul is cooking a fusion of tofu and rice.

Parrot

rainbow lorikeet

You can always pick out the tourists because they’re the ones looking upwards.  I still get excited when I see brightly coloured birds flying about. Couldn’t resist this cheeky parrot teasing Buddy yesterday when we walked round the block.

No time to write much today.  We are off out to partay. 

Washday Blues

Paul flooded the bathroom this morning so I put the soggy towels and bathmat into the washing machine on a quick wash.  When the cycle was finished everything was still sopping wet, it hadn’t spun properly.  I added some more items to the load and switched it back on for a full wash cycle.  Then I remembered I hadn’t added any washing powder. Stop and start again. Check everything was tumbling and washing nicely, aaagh how did my white pants get in there?

An hour later I unloaded the washing machine to find everything covered in white bits.  Yes, I’d left a tissue in my jumper pocket. And my white pants are now grey.

Just been outside to get everything in before the rain comes. I was feeling very smug because all the washing was dry.  Then I noticed the bird poo.  Bloody magpies.