I was extra fortunate today in being able to catch up with two friends in central London. Stuart (whose mum Shirley I stayed with a few days ago) I haven’t seen since Bondi and I left here in 2007, and Todd who I haven’t seen in over twenty years.
Stuart was well acquainted with Bondi and even met Bondi’s brother Dougal when we weren’t long back in Sydney from our Seattle years. Taking our first coffee at Monmouth’s, I asked Stuart what he wanted to drink, and foolishly but not inappropriately mistook his northern-inflected “flat white” to be “fois gras”.
My acquaintance with Todd goes back to years PM (pre-malamute), part of the circle centred on the late, lamented Stuart Campbell’s Bondi (Beach, not dog) “salon”. While that circle wasn’t comprised of the world-shaking names that frequented Grantchester’s Tea Rooms, one didn’t exactly go to Stuart’s for scones althoiugh the conversation and company could be quite luminous. As Todd’s acting career took him away from Sydney, I’ve usually caught him on screen – most recently seeing him as a CIA agent thrown from Sherlock Holmes’ window in the recent BBC TV production.