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terryfrost at 09:06pm on 02/05/2006
terryfrost at 09:06pm on 02/05/2006Why the fuck couldn't the aeroplane take off in fog? The one at the end of Casablanca did! Finally got to Sydney on Friday and linked up with my sister Linda. Went to visit my mother in hospital, where she was having some renovations done to her inner ear to correct a balance problem. To be honest, she looked more than a little ratshit at the time but as the weekend progressed she improved no end, like a vampire after a couple of good neckfuls of haemoglobin.
Friday, I spent some time walking around Chinatown, refamiliarising myself with the old home town which constantly morphs into strange and interesting configurations. I spent much of my teenage and early adulthood in the city, sometimes for more than 24 hours at a time. There's not a street between Circular Quay and Redfern, Glebe and Kings Cross that I haven't walked. I can take you to where Chips Rafferty died of a heart attack, where Checkers nightclub stood, to the Trocadero, the Town Cinema, the People's Palace and Harry's Cafe De Wheels. I can also show you both locations where Peter Corris' famous private eye Cliff Hardy had offices. It has been 16 years since I lived in Sydney but my memories of the places there are fresh.
Friday night saw Linda and I perched at a window table at the Sandringham Hotel (which has Cooper's Red on tap) catching up with things. She then took me across King Street, Newtown to a Turkish restaurant called Pasha's (which is within a stone's throw of Cliff Hardy's most recent office) for shish kebabs, hommus, cabernet merlot and some very fine belly dancing.
Saturday we were back at Newtown from Linda's Randwick flat on a quest to get her a nose piercing at a very funky pierceria called Polymorph. Unfortunately, they didn't have an appointment time for her, so we wandered around Enmore Road, checking out kittens at the Cat Protection Society and finding a cool ghoulish present for Sally. While we were there, we got a call to pick Mum up from the hospital. That ended in a Bataan Death March trek -- she insisted on walking back to Linda's from the hospital. As the food in the hospital resembled the shit the astronauts ate in 2001: A Space Odyssey, we decided to treat her to some prawns and calamari for dinner. A good night. We watched some gross MTV shows I'd burnt onto a DVD for Linda, as well as a musical or two for Mum.
Sunday was a me day. I headed up to Gould's Book Arcade to pick up some old paperbacks, of which they have more than a million, then on a whim I took a bus down to Circular Quay and walked around the Opera House, through the Botanical Gardens and down to Wooloomooloo Wharf for a pie at Harry's Cafe De Wheels. Spent the afternoon chilling with the rellies before Linda and I headed out to Mascot for my JetStar flight home. Great weekend, all up, though I did miss Sal a bit.
Friday, I spent some time walking around Chinatown, refamiliarising myself with the old home town which constantly morphs into strange and interesting configurations. I spent much of my teenage and early adulthood in the city, sometimes for more than 24 hours at a time. There's not a street between Circular Quay and Redfern, Glebe and Kings Cross that I haven't walked. I can take you to where Chips Rafferty died of a heart attack, where Checkers nightclub stood, to the Trocadero, the Town Cinema, the People's Palace and Harry's Cafe De Wheels. I can also show you both locations where Peter Corris' famous private eye Cliff Hardy had offices. It has been 16 years since I lived in Sydney but my memories of the places there are fresh.
Friday night saw Linda and I perched at a window table at the Sandringham Hotel (which has Cooper's Red on tap) catching up with things. She then took me across King Street, Newtown to a Turkish restaurant called Pasha's (which is within a stone's throw of Cliff Hardy's most recent office) for shish kebabs, hommus, cabernet merlot and some very fine belly dancing.
Saturday we were back at Newtown from Linda's Randwick flat on a quest to get her a nose piercing at a very funky pierceria called Polymorph. Unfortunately, they didn't have an appointment time for her, so we wandered around Enmore Road, checking out kittens at the Cat Protection Society and finding a cool ghoulish present for Sally. While we were there, we got a call to pick Mum up from the hospital. That ended in a Bataan Death March trek -- she insisted on walking back to Linda's from the hospital. As the food in the hospital resembled the shit the astronauts ate in 2001: A Space Odyssey, we decided to treat her to some prawns and calamari for dinner. A good night. We watched some gross MTV shows I'd burnt onto a DVD for Linda, as well as a musical or two for Mum.
Sunday was a me day. I headed up to Gould's Book Arcade to pick up some old paperbacks, of which they have more than a million, then on a whim I took a bus down to Circular Quay and walked around the Opera House, through the Botanical Gardens and down to Wooloomooloo Wharf for a pie at Harry's Cafe De Wheels. Spent the afternoon chilling with the rellies before Linda and I headed out to Mascot for my JetStar flight home. Great weekend, all up, though I did miss Sal a bit.
mellow
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