"If I stop now call me a quitter, If lies were cats you'd be a litter"
This time I am on the train HOME from Sydney. Tralala what an exciting adventure this is. I almost ended up missing the my stop last time after all that writing, so this time I will be concentrating more on where the hell I am.
It was an excellent weekend. The entire transit last time, including waiting at stations for the next train and what nots ended up taking just over 4 hours. Thankfully Vanessa picked me up for St Lennord's station, otherwise it would have been about another fifteen minutes on top of that. St Lennord's is more like the Sydney I remember and detest, spotted with bizarre fountains and "artwork", packed with fast food franchises I've never heard of before and no matter where you go, always smelling faintly of vomit.
So I didn't end up getting to Vanessa's place until about 11pm, so we didn't get much accomplished that night before we went to bed.
Poor Vanessa had to get up early Saturday, but I got to sleep in till about 10. I ended up cooking breakfast for Vanessa, and Erin, Vanessa's housemate, and Emma, a friend of Erin's who was staying over. Cooking, while something I love, is certainly something I need more practice at. It didn't turn out toooo bad, but I doubt any of the people eating realized how close they came to having to eat extra extra extra crispy bacon and eggs done scrambled and fried and boiled all at the same time. After that Vanessa and I set about relaxing and unpacking boxes, and ended up going for a shopping trip with Erin for a few bits and pieces the girls still needed. I bought a book called "Freakonomics", that Steve Cannane always used to go on about on Hack, on Triple J. A clever little book that uses statistics to link together all kinds of unobvious phenomena, like falling crime rates in America being caused by the legalizing of abortions. That night Vanessa cooked me dinner, chicken schnitzel, one of her specialties. We hired a movie, ate ice cream, and got drunk on some awesome tasting wine Vanessa was given for her birthday, and after that ran out, Bailey's.
Today we walked. And walked and walked and walked and walked. My god did we walk. We started out at about 10:30 from Vanessa's place and walked to a nearby cafe called Chaos. Chaos is a squishy little place, packed with tables and noise. They serve "Berocca” on Soda Water" for $3.50, which I thought was hilarious - very Sydneyite. It would not be a good place for a Johnson meet, but it was an excellent place for breakfast. I had the Vegetarian meal with a side of bacon. Its a clever way to eat by my reckoning. I think that people deep down inside feel sorry for the poor sods who have chosen to be vegetarian and so they pile lots of extra on for them. And you just can't go past bacon.
After that we set off down the hill towards "the water". So many big old houses to look at, and the views from some of the lookouts were pretty nice. We ended up getting the Ferry from one of the little ferry stations down there into Circular Quay, and from there we resumed our walking until we reached the Botanical Gardens. By this stage we had been walked a god dammed long way so we chilled out on the grass. Apparently the Sydney Tropfest film festival was on today, and I would have loved to go to it, but we were tired, and anyway, it didn't start until much later apparently. But we came up with some excellent ideas for our own film. Any other budding short film makers out there?
So home we went and had chicken and salad for dinner. Actually it was exactly the same as last night, except the chicken wasn't schnitzelafied, and we weren't drunk. So not nearly as good in either respect. And now, here I am on the train home.
Anyone ever heard of the gurrilapoets.com? During our travels today I found a green army man fallen on the street with a note strapped onto his back by rubber band. The note had a little poem on it about someone getting a stranger pregnant in a one night stand and being screwed over for the welfare payments. Very crude, but short and clever. Apparently this is a “last ditch” effort to force poetry onto people. I certainly would never have read the poem if not for the little green army man.
It was an excellent weekend. The entire transit last time, including waiting at stations for the next train and what nots ended up taking just over 4 hours. Thankfully Vanessa picked me up for St Lennord's station, otherwise it would have been about another fifteen minutes on top of that. St Lennord's is more like the Sydney I remember and detest, spotted with bizarre fountains and "artwork", packed with fast food franchises I've never heard of before and no matter where you go, always smelling faintly of vomit.
So I didn't end up getting to Vanessa's place until about 11pm, so we didn't get much accomplished that night before we went to bed.
Poor Vanessa had to get up early Saturday, but I got to sleep in till about 10. I ended up cooking breakfast for Vanessa, and Erin, Vanessa's housemate, and Emma, a friend of Erin's who was staying over. Cooking, while something I love, is certainly something I need more practice at. It didn't turn out toooo bad, but I doubt any of the people eating realized how close they came to having to eat extra extra extra crispy bacon and eggs done scrambled and fried and boiled all at the same time. After that Vanessa and I set about relaxing and unpacking boxes, and ended up going for a shopping trip with Erin for a few bits and pieces the girls still needed. I bought a book called "Freakonomics", that Steve Cannane always used to go on about on Hack, on Triple J. A clever little book that uses statistics to link together all kinds of unobvious phenomena, like falling crime rates in America being caused by the legalizing of abortions. That night Vanessa cooked me dinner, chicken schnitzel, one of her specialties. We hired a movie, ate ice cream, and got drunk on some awesome tasting wine Vanessa was given for her birthday, and after that ran out, Bailey's.
Today we walked. And walked and walked and walked and walked. My god did we walk. We started out at about 10:30 from Vanessa's place and walked to a nearby cafe called Chaos. Chaos is a squishy little place, packed with tables and noise. They serve "Berocca” on Soda Water" for $3.50, which I thought was hilarious - very Sydneyite. It would not be a good place for a Johnson meet, but it was an excellent place for breakfast. I had the Vegetarian meal with a side of bacon. Its a clever way to eat by my reckoning. I think that people deep down inside feel sorry for the poor sods who have chosen to be vegetarian and so they pile lots of extra on for them. And you just can't go past bacon.
After that we set off down the hill towards "the water". So many big old houses to look at, and the views from some of the lookouts were pretty nice. We ended up getting the Ferry from one of the little ferry stations down there into Circular Quay, and from there we resumed our walking until we reached the Botanical Gardens. By this stage we had been walked a god dammed long way so we chilled out on the grass. Apparently the Sydney Tropfest film festival was on today, and I would have loved to go to it, but we were tired, and anyway, it didn't start until much later apparently. But we came up with some excellent ideas for our own film. Any other budding short film makers out there?
So home we went and had chicken and salad for dinner. Actually it was exactly the same as last night, except the chicken wasn't schnitzelafied, and we weren't drunk. So not nearly as good in either respect. And now, here I am on the train home.
Anyone ever heard of the gurrilapoets.com? During our travels today I found a green army man fallen on the street with a note strapped onto his back by rubber band. The note had a little poem on it about someone getting a stranger pregnant in a one night stand and being screwed over for the welfare payments. Very crude, but short and clever. Apparently this is a “last ditch” effort to force poetry onto people. I certainly would never have read the poem if not for the little green army man.