Have been in Sydney for the past week - doing the big smoke things. Trouble was it felt like the big smoke, literally. Dust, dirt, smog - surely I haven't become so old that the city no longer holds an attraction, even for one week, and just becomes a receptacle of physical discomfort. But it seems I have. When the plane touched down at Merimbula airport I thought I would explode with joy. Oh, to be nearly home.
the dust blanketing everything increased the temperature by 10 degrees and made it extremely hot and sticky. Was it all bad........no!
It was wonderful to go to the MCA (Fiona Foleys retrospective had some very powerful pieces). It was great to go to the cinema under the Opera House and watch Genova (which too, was very moving). It was good to get to Amazing Paper and buy some paper for my Learning Absences book. The English Teachers Association Conference had some excellent workshops. Shopping was fun. But most of all it was fantastic to get home to to rain washing the tarmac and kangaroos bounding across the road, the corner shop, vegie garden and the blue, blue ocean.
For god's sake....I was only gone for a week.
I am getting old aren't I.