Thanks to my darling friend, David, giving me a ticket for my birthday I got to spend a delightful time at my old Sydney haunts from the 15 to 21 April. Six years has been a long time and a lot of adventures in between.
Wednesday was a rather groggy day as I ended up getting ill from the 23:05 flight meal. I know, I know, ordering fish is downright stupid, but leading up to Khmer New Year I couldn’t face any more chicken.
Thursday I sort of trolled around and then met up friends for dinner at Komachi, my favourite Japanese restaurant in the city. Pam – who ran the art gallery around the corner from me and Andrew – the editor who used to give me all the tickets he didn’t want to the Opera House showed up. Later Elena and Janelle from the Scarlet alliance arrived and we had a delightful catch-up. Yasko – who owns Komachi – organized a delightful meal joined us when it quieted down.
Friday was Good Friday. The best part about it was that everything was closed so the only logical thing to do was for David and I to go out to eat and drink. It was delightful to spend quality time with him as intellectual conversation in the Kingdom isn’t easy to find. We have known each other almost forever and can flip between topics faster than taking a sip of wine.
Saturday I had a quiet morning and then went for a drink with David and Frances. Next I met up with Euri. Then I ended up at Scott and Sara’s at 24 Burton Street, which is my official address in SYD for anything Australian I need done. Scott had his little mansion renovated since I left at the end of 2008 and took me on a tour.
There is a window on the way up to the third level that is a mosaic. It is a stained glass window that represents the important events and people of his life. He asked me to figure out which square I was. The middle is a brilliant collage of colours so I hesitatingly pointed at one.
“Hussy – as he calls me – “you aren’t listening. That is me, the centre of the universe.”
“Of course. Obtuse of me not to figure that out. Alright, so how about this little one?”
“Wrong again. That is Sun Pluto. Squares, look for squares.”
Ah ha, there was a red one in the bottom left corner that sort of matched my hair. Wrong again.
Exasperated, he finally gave up and pointed to the one that looked green from one angle and blue from the other, about in the middle of the right hand side.
I love the idea and have decided that I am going to design one for myself. When I wrote my obituary and sent it to Scott and he thought it was a brilliant idea and decided to write his own, so I figure it is sort of a quid pro quo.
My time in SYD was insightful because it made me realize how much I have changed. For the better or the worse is open to debate. Admittedly I was staying at Pott’s Point which is very bourgeois. To live there you either have to have a designer dog to walk or a pretentious brat to parade. The prices left me gasping. $20 for breakfast? $42 for a bottle of vodka that costs $11.20 in the Kingdom? The “it is all about me” attitude also wears thin very quickly.
So when I got back to the chaos and grime of the Kingdom I knew I had come home.