In Sydney

My first few days visiting Jonny and H in Sydney have been superb. It’s great to see them again and it’s like we saw each other last only yesterday rather than a year ago. Even the excruciatingly cold weather is reminding me of times we’ve spent together in England. Temperatures of 16 degrees in the day time, and much lower at night, have resulted in me having to wear three layers at least at all times and I’m constantly going on about wanting to buy a hat and scarf. 16 degrees is about half the temperature I’m used to in Singers. So that’s the weather. I might mention it again, being English and all that.

Jonny and H have been excellent hosts. Their flat, as I’m sure you’re not tired of reading over on Jonny’s blog, overlooks the ocean, and over the three or four days I’ve been here, the sea has gradually gone from being what’s-all-the-fuss-about very calm to you-wouldn’t-catch-me-going-in-there-with-a-plank-of-wood semi-tempestuous. A couple of days ago the surf was just right for Jonny to "take to the waves", or to "ride the tubes" or whatever surf-bums say, and he got me to go out and film him in the hope that somehow I’d end up with another Point Break (as if we need another) after fifteen minutes of him "dropping on a fat one". I didn’t see him fall over once. Indeed, I only managed to capture his first graceful scoot to the shore (standing up on his board all the way) before I lost him amongst all the other surfers in the glare of the brilliant (but ever so cold) sunlight reflecting off the ocean. When we watched the footage back later, we were all amazed to see that I’d managed to film some dolphins swimming about 15 yards away from Jonny. Neither of us had noticed them at the time. Ripper!

As well as watching Jonny "catch the breaks", I’ve also been over on the ferry to Sydney’s CBD. Jonny’s shown me around (poor H is at work) and we’ve wandered underneath the famous bridge, taking lots of photos, and had a gander at the Opera House close-up, taking lots of photos. In fact, you may have already seen some of Jonny’s photos on his blog. These two icons look great in the sunlight – it’s amazing how much difference the sunlight makes, actually. On a cloudy day the Opera House looks rather forlorn and the bridge looks a bit menacing, but when the sun comes out they both look majestic. Honest. I’ve read it in a guide book. I’ve seen countless photos of the opera house, of course, but until I got up close to it I could never conceptualise it; could never work out how it all fitted together. It always looked so convoluted and different from every angle. I was interested to discover that it’s actually a few separate structures rather than one solid structure and that it’s supposed to resemble sails. Whatever. Each time I see these two structures on the ferry from Manly, where H and J live, to the CBD area, where the structures live, they become more and more impressive. Deadly!

While I’m here I had to see something at the Opera House, and H and J have never been, so we got tickets to see some Shostakovich next weekend (no idea what that’ll be like, but we decided we’d prefer classical music to opera or Darren Hayes). We also got tickets to the Aussie Rules football for the following night. From the sublime to the ridiculous. Although ridiculous doesn’t go anywhere near to describing Aussie Rules Football. We saw some on telly last night and it is going to be awesome. Zidane's assault on Materazzi the other day is nothing compared to the legal acts that go on during a game of Aussie Rules. It’s the only sport I can think of where the referees are my favourite things, for so many reasons. More on this, I’m sure, after I’ve been to the game. Bonza!

In case anyone who hasn’t seen Jonny’s comical photos is wondering how I’m getting on with my knee, I’m not particularly mobile, but instead of waddling around on one crutch, I purchased a collapsible walking stick (which only collapses when I want it to, fortunately). I used this for a couple of days or so. Walking a kilometre in a day, with lots of breaks, really took it out of my legs, the muscles of which seem to have atrophied or something. However, every day I also feel more confident on my feet and yesterday I discarded the walking stick. Of course, I might have to dig the crutches out when I get to the airport to fly home in the hope that this time it yields an upgrade instead of a poxy aisle seat behind some jerk who wanted to recline his chair the whole 8 hours between Singapore and Sydney, despite my repeated shaking of his seat.

As well as seeing sights and all that, we’ve had some very nice relaxing times sitting in J and H’s lounge, listening to music and watching the ocean or a movie perhaps. We’ve chatted a bit about home and stuff, we’ve watched some video footage of our friends back home and listened to some music that reminds us of them. Despite the fact that the three of us have made a conscious decision to get a long way away from home, none of us want to be as far away as we are from our family and friends. H and I both have nieces we’ve never met, which is tough. It’s good to talk about these things with each other.

Finally, when Ella and I went to the Northern Territories at Christmas we found ourselves unable to stop speaking to each other in Aussie accents. There must be something about the Australian accent, because Jonny and I have been doing the same thing. We’re also inventing Australian-type terms for things (abbreviate everything but add an –o or an –ie). So I’ve been hobbling around on my “walko”, we’ve started a tournament of “Pro-Evo” on the playstation (Pro-Evolution Soccer) and we’re about to have some “breko”. We’ve visited the “bridge-o” and the “Op-o” and have been having bizarre conversations about “Cristiano-o Ronaldo-o”. Of course, this is annoying H no end – by the time she gets home from work we’ve been talking bad Australian all day and there really is no stopping us. Immediately after she tells us to stop, we’ll reply with “Sorry darl” or “No worries, Sheils” or something, without even realising we’re doing it. Today I woke up determined to give it a rest. I’ve been up for an hour and still haven’t said a word in my normal accent. Trouble ahead… Daggy...


Bridge in menacing mode.


People going for a pleasant stroll on top of the bridge.


Jonny looks after my crutch.


"Off for a surfo!"


Oprah's House


Close To Oprah's House.


Scrap.


Cheese.