Thursday, March 28, 2013

First morning

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I didn’t sleep at all last night, and Gustav probably only managed a couple of hours’ worth, but that was no obstacle to us being in the swim lanes at Andrew Boy Charlton Pool and doing laps early on our first morning. Gustav had the benefit of some adrenalin, having seen his first golden orb spider close up, hovering next to the path by Woolloomooloo Bay.
IMG_2040 golden orb spider
Swimming was followed up by a big breakfast bruschetta with grilled haloumi and Campos coffee in the cafe above the pool. I ordered a flat white for Gustav but I don’t think he’s ready for the strong stuff yet, pronouncing himself as “shaking” after a few sips.  We’ll scale him back to a methadone latte for a while.

Our walk continued around to Lady Macquarie’s Chair where he could look across to the Opera House and Harbour Bridge. We cut back across Farm Cove where the staging for a floating production of Carmen is moored.
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Vance accompanied us into the city where in under an hour, Gustav got his bank account set up, and we got new SIM cards for our phones. If it had been that easy to do these things in France, I would have had about three months’ fewer angsty blog posts!

Many of the changes in the CBD, particularly around the Westfield military-fashion-foodcourt complex near Pitt St mall were quite dramatic for my eyes after three years. I certainly don’t miss working in the CBD area – thankfully twenty blissfully remote years have passed since that era.

I had to get some chest medicine as a mild tickly cough I’d been bequeathed by London had now blossomed into a painfully wracking cough. Vance said that he’d just started getting over a similar ailment from his recent time in Europe.

While picking up some groceries for the Easter weekend, I marvelled at small jars of duck fat selling for $27 or around €22 – at least twenty times the cost of the stuff we collected from primary producers in France.

I crashed for four hours in the afternoon, which was probably not going to help my sleep endeavour tonight, but my body had screamed its limits.

I also learnt that Munson had been rebooked for his Sydney flight, now arriving a week later (because of Easter holidays), so I likely won’t see him before April 5th. Look after yourself little buddy.

1 comment:

  1. Poor Munson! And poor you having to think about it. When is his expected arrival in Sydney? He may already be there by the time you see this... He'll sure be glad to see you, even if he's in quarantine.

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