An ordinary life

Experimental walk

/ Robert / 13 Comments

Rear lane, Newtown

I was at my physical fittest when I walked for forty minutes to work and the same amount home again every day. Increasing living costs and a change of employer has led to living further out from the city and a reliance on public transport. I try to incorporate some exercise into my journey by catching the bus from a stop further from home, walking for longer than is necessary between buses and getting off early on the return trip. 

As the start of a new academic year looms my thoughts are taken up with how to avoid the morning frustration of having to wait for ten to twenty minutes for the express bus from Central Railway Station. The queue stretches around a quarter of Belmore Park to facilitate the transportation of ten plus thousand students each morning. 
There are a few options available to me, including a ten minute walk down the road to catch the 370. The route is picturesque, zigzagging from Leichhardt, through Annandale and Glebe to Newtown. As the total journey time can take over one hour on one bus I opt for a split journey that includes joining the 370 later along its meandering path. 
This morning leaving the house at 8:15, I catch the bus from the stop nearest home on the Parramatta Road. Alighting at around 8:30, I walk a few steps along Mallet Street to be greeted by the familiar sound of song birds that reside in the area. Also, the electric buzz of cicadas in the trees of Camperdown Park; it’s going to be a hot day! 
Being on a schedule I refrain from stopping to take pictures every few steps as I rediscover the quiet backstreets of Newtown. Row upon row of simple Victorian terraced houses squeezed into every available space and pockets of vegetation jostling for a spot to burst forth. 
When I reach King Street I am confronted by the thunder of cars, buses and trucks speeding towards the city. This is an aspect of the suburb I don’t miss. 
Taking my place in the shade of the awning I forget to look around to check if it’s safe to stop. The look on the face of a young skateboarder barely missing me lets me know that it was not. 
The journey from Newtown to work usually takes twenty minutes. Queuing for the traffic lights as we approach Botany Road in Alexandria has quickly eaten into this overly ambitious target. I reach work at 9:50, an hour after boarding the bus. Even though I managed to take a rather lovely twenty minute walk the outcome of my experiment was disappointing. Maybe I can improve on the overall time by setting out earlier from home. 
 

Renaissance woman on a bus

/ Robert / 6 Comments

This butterfly reminds me of a morning journey in Spring when I experienced living art. 

I look up to see an attractive woman in her early forties glide down the aisle with the grace of a ballet dancer.  

I notice she wears silver sneakers without laces and black stockings beneath a soft black, calf length, bias cut skirt. The combination provides contrast to a loose fitting, burnt orange, wide necked, bat wing sleeve jumper. 

An oversized black leather shoulder bag guides my attention to the glimpse of a tattoo of ancient script on her right forearm and tasteful antique gold rings, four on each hand. 

Dark brown hair is scraped back into a small tidy bun. Gold dropper earrings with pale yellow stones, maybe citrine hang from sensual lobes. A clear Mediterranean complexion provides the backdrop for thin high arched brows above dark accepting eyes, a slight shadow of tiredness below. A slim refined aquiline nose carries my gaze to unsmiling dark blue-purple lips. 

I realise this person is an ideal subject for a modern variation of a renaissance portrait. 

Dreaming

/ Robert / 13 Comments


Dreaming last night, I walked through a door into a white painted room. I noticed an ABBA Studios sign on the left hand wall. Turning to look at the sign I realised band members, Björn, Benny, Frida and Agnetha were sitting casually underneath on separate pieces of furniture. While retrieving a mobile phone from my right hip pocket, so that I could take a picture, the artists moved away. 
In my mind I could hear the haunting sound of a flute playing the track, Eagle. This song has been with me for almost 40 years, being one of my favourites on ABBA: The Album, released in the UK in 1978. Listening to Eagle always gives flight to the endless possibilities available to me, through my thoughts. The story of my connection with this album is described in Thank you for the music. 

Artwork information from Wikipedia 

Polar’s official cover featured an entirely white background, and is the basis for current CD versions. However, Epic Records’ original UK release of the LP featured a blue background on the front cover, fading to white at the bottom. It also featured a gatefold sleeve. The back cover was altered, incorporating a similar photo of ABBA to that used elsewhere in the world for the inner sleeve, and referencing tracks included in ABBA: The Movie. The inner gatefold was designed to look like an air mail envelope, similar to the style later used for Gracias Por La Música and even had a photo of ABBA incorporated into a stamp in the corner.

Room with a view 

/ Robert / 4 Comments

The original eighth floor room allocation was okay until the 8-4 maintenance work started on Tuesday morning. The view from the bay window was uninspiring unless one looked right toward the Swan River. 

As the repairs are scheduled to occur for the remainder of our stay, the Hyatt Hotel kindly moved us to the third floor, well away from the sound of angle grinding and drills. 

As of 4pm the temperature is 41 oC in Perth, Australia. We have spent the last four hours by and in the cool water of the pool. The above picture is taken from the comfort of our air conditioned room. 

Gift story

/ Robert / 5 Comments

We have two sets of keys for our home. We gave my set to our friends so that when we fly back from Perth next Friday they can bring Stan home, ready for our arrival from the airport. 

The temperature in Sydney hit a sizzling 36oC earlier this week. With one of us sipping a cocktail in the pool I needed a way to get into the house. In good old fashioned style, a key under the doormat did the trick. 
The cool hall appeared gloomy after leaving the intense heat of the late afternoon sunshine.  I spotted a narrow striped object lying on the coir runner, about five inches long. A gift for me, I thought, perhaps chocolate? I picked the cylindrical parcel up. As I walked into the light of the dining room I noticed a corner of the white and gold paper had been torn. The name Stan was written on the paper, not for me then! Inside, one of his favourite treats sealed in a plastic wrapper. I walked into the study. On the floor lay a medium sized box containing more gaily clad items.  
As I sank into the cooling water, an Aperol spritz in hand, I relayed my journey through the house. We laughed in admiration at the stealth Stan had employed in retrieving his gift. It had been tucked deep inside the box. None of the others were disturbed. 

Fifties fitness

/ Robert / 6 Comments

New challenges at work will require peak physical and psychological performance, no more excuses. Time to do something about fitness in my fifties. 

Procrastinated for a year; moping and moaning in melancholic moodiness. Finally I shook off the can’t do attitude this morning. 

Only one other person in the gym. Fifteen minutes of cardio followed by forty five of weights has set me up for the day. Hoping I will be able to do it again tomorrow. 

The plane, the plane

/ Robert / 6 Comments

Public transport is a necessary evil in the daily grind of Sydney life. Since moving here almost nineteen years ago planes have been a source of wonder, excitement and irratation. 

When living in Brighton le Sands we were so close to the flight path that we could see our community reflected in the belly of the aircraft. Passengers could be seen gazing from the windows. The noise pollution and vibration was intense. It was no wonder that we looked for quieter surroundings in the Eastern suburbs. 

After a couple of years of noise from garbage trucks outside the bedroom window in Paddington we headed to the inner west. Newtown delivered distant plane and train noise and the neighbour from hell. She loved to party in the early hours of Tuesday morning and any other time she fancied. 

The town house in Petersham was directly under the approach to the runway. When outside we would pause our conversations until decibel levels returned to normal. 

Lewisham was all about the noise from the traffic bombing along a concrete road that joined two arterial roads. We awoke and nodded off to the sound of aeroplanes at either end of the day. 

Leichhardt used to be a suburb plagued by  aircraft noise. In recent years flight paths have been adjusted to share the intrusion. Mornings and evenings continue to be our designated times. At other times it is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. 

The Etihad flight above has its landing gear down. It is about 15 minutes away from the terminal building. 

Thankfully attempts to extend or lift the 11:00 pm to 6:00 am flight curfew have failed. 

Austerity measures

/ Robert / 6 Comments


As a child Toblerone was for me the holy grail of chocolate, a treat at Christmas time. When white and dark bars along with giant Toblerones hit the shores of England I was in heaven. I enjoyed the nutty, mild honey taste along with the adventure of breaking it into pieces. It was not the easiest of confections to eat, especially when chilled. I remember the experience of biting a triangle off the bar as the adjacent piece scraped the gums surrounding my upper teeth. 

The bar has been downsized, with less pieces in each bar, now looking a bit like gaps from missing teeth. I have heard it said that the austerity measures are due to Brexit, perhaps the bars are a little easier to eat. Dezeen Magazine reports that the changes are shaping up to be the worst received redesign since Uber changed its logo this year. 

I invite you to share your thoughts. 

Bizarre behaviour on a bus

/ Robert / 6 Comments


When catching the bus to and from work there are certain seats that I prefer. Being broad shouldered I have found that sitting towards the back of the bus provides more room. The seating area is elevated to such a level that the bottom of the windows are under my elbow, allowing one arm breathing space.

One day this week I got on a bus, a short walk from my home. All seats were occupied except for the back seat. I wouldn’t normally venture this far down the bus as it can be hot and noisy sitting above the engine. With limited leg room this seat is designed for five people. In my experience four is the maximum for those with a fuller figure. Today was no exception; there was movement as I approached; two dubious looking individuals scooted in opposite directions towards either window tugging belongings onto their laps. After sitting down to face the front right hand side of the bus the person behind me sat down on the left.
I caught myself gazing absent mindedly at the back of the head of a stocky man seated next to the aisle in front of me. A crazy paving like pattern of faint pink veins ran up from his neck across the surface of his light coloured scalp, snaking through the stubble of a closely shaved head. It reminded me of a river system seen from above the Earth. 

After travelling uneventfully for about ten minutes, I heard a quiet jingling noise to my right. I did not catch the words the older looking lady seated next to Pink River System Man (PRSM) was uttering, however from her agitated manner and hand signals I realised she had spilled the contents of her bag on the floor. She spoke loudly to a darker skinned chap in front of PRSM. A number of passengers assisted to retrieve the runaway items. 

When it looked like calm was returning to my journey I was fascinated to see a fist appear in front of PRSM. It proceeded to grind into the back of the head of Darker Skinned Chap (DSC). The goodwill of fellow passengers quickly faded as the woman continued to hurl rapid directions at DSC. I wondered if they were related, then thought, “Well they aren’t sitting next to each other.” 

PRSM informed the woman that rather than abuse DSC she should search for her belongings herself. She muttered that he was in a better position to see where they had fallen. The woman began sorting through the contents of her bag. For the rest of the trip she took out and replaced items in a frenetic manner. 

All in all, bizarre behaviour on a bus! 

I have included a picture of an equally bizarre Paisley pattern I developed a while ago.

Patience pays off

/ Robert / 9 Comments


To report that our backyard is small is an understatement. When we moved into the house two years ago we had great plans for an outdoor room, small pool and plants; the car has to fit too. We achieved our plans with the exception of somewhere comfortable to sit. 

Many boxes and pieces of furniture have added to the eclectic clutter of our home, until now. Plastic pallets, plywood, a gazebo kit, café blinds, a shade sail, careful planning and patience have resulted in an outdoor room. I am happy to say that we are protected from the sun, rain and even evil mozzies. Unfortunately our achievement is at the expense of the washing line and pool.