Image of a moment that is no more,
But one more memory shared, of this fair shore.
Blue of the harbour and red of the wine,
Light and shadow playing in the sunshine.
Happy faces at every mention
Of formal notice of our intention.
We will wed at the British Consulate.
Harbour-side mid-week lunch to celebrate.
With family and friends it will be regal,
‘Though same-sex union here’s not yet legal.
Some people, our decision, it astounds;
The dissonance of living still abounds.
This former tram booking office has been renovated as part of an upgrade of Newtown railway station. Built at the turn of the 20th century this building has been repurposed for retail. It stands in stark contrast to the former tram sheds featured on this blog earlier this month Urban decay.
This is a glimpse of the morning sun pouring through stained glass in the door that goes to the front garden. The light is diffused as it passes through a curtain decorated with appliquéd leaves in shades of green. Combined with the wall colour, candle sticks and Cirque du Soleil painting; a warming church-like scene.
I find the term ‘drawing-room’ a trifle pretentious, however after dinner we do withdraw to this east facing, cheerful, cosy and comfortable place.
I was supposed to leave 6cm between each one, it’s just as well they didn’t spread out properly.
Changing to Nigella Lawson’s recipe was the right decision as the generous quantity of ingredients of the original was for 100 cookies!
You won’t put a doormat at the front door; in case someone steals it.
Heritage listed tram sheds sit decaying alongside the recently modernised Newtown railway station, Sydney, NSW, Australia. Authorities attempt to minimise the visual impact of graffiti by painting over it using ‘mission brown’.
Sydney, Australia, is in that Spring phase when it’s warm one day (22oC) and chilly the next (17oC).
On the cooler days the red and green of this gum tree remind me of Yuletide in northern hemisphere.
After forty years of standing politely in line I will do all in my power to avoid queuing. At first I found the random gathering around bus stops in Australia confronting. Now I welcome the opportunity to move strategically forward, without barging, pushing or treading on someone; I retain my British integrity after all!
My biggest gripe is while waiting to board an aircraft. The ‘premium’ passengers likened to jewels and precious metals are ushered quickly through the gate. The remaining colour labelled passengers shuffle along the slow lane.
On one occasion while rushing to the departure gate I failed to notice the signs. Upon reaching the front of a line I was instructed to join the correct one; a mile long snaking line of non premium passengers. This experience reinforced my dislike of being herded; even if I am flying cattle class.
The solution I have found is to travel light and be the last passenger to board the plane. I sit in relative comfort as I await the end of the meandering line. There is plenty of time for a toilet break before boarding which counteracts the low probability of being able to use the dubious in-flight facilities. Even though the likelihood of space in an overhead locker is slim I stow my carry-on under the seat in front of me.
I am a status junky, sorely tempted to fly Sydney to Melbourne return before end September to earn enough status points to become a silver frequent flyer- I haven’t, yet . . . . . .
Buildings at the base of the Acropolis of Athens, Greece.