visiting the sister city

There is one city to rival Melbourne in a way that only a sibling can.  Hello Sydney, you’ve thrilled me more this time than you ever have before – and the only thing you’re/I’m missing, is my family and friends.

Only in Sydney is the vast majority of the city population seemingly afraid of a little rain, are the hemlengths of most woman under 40 noticably short, where the nights are warm enough that taking more than eight seconds to eat a timtam results in its disintegration between your fingers, and where the people’s intrigue for a little bit of difference means they treat you with shocking flattery.

I’ve played more pool here than I ever have in my life – if 7 rounds in two days is anything impressive.  I’ve walked more in 3 days here than I usually do in a month.  I’ve taken transport I scarsely take: taxis, shuttle bus, monorail and doubledecker trains.  There’s a beauty about breaking routines that reinvigorates a person.  The inconvenience of unfamiliarity forces exploration and presents all sorts of pleasant surprises!  I’ve experienced wonderful kindnesses from strangers I met, though I confess they did arouse suspicion regarding why people might be so generous!

I feel like I’ve been away for a while, as though I’ve been living apart from life as I knew it, though it’s been a mere 4 days.  Well, I’m not sure the purpose of this post, but I’m going to walk to the fishmarket now to buy fresh sourdough! Sounds odd, I know… Kat told me to!

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