Last Tuesday

It was the day of Kosov's birthday. Coincidently Hairdresser Friend had asked if I was free for a dinner catch up. She said to bring the lads if they were free. Kosov's night off work is Tuesday, so here we go. This looks like a plan.

Hairdresser Friend suggested an Indian restaurant in Fitzroy Street, St Kilda called Mukka. Sounded fine, so she booked. There were nine of us, including my neighbour HH, with who we three caught a tram with her to the restaurant. 

The service wasn't fast but no one was in a rush and there was nice intermingling and chat. It was a very pleasant evening. 

Now dear readers, I have a question. Neighbour HH turns 80 mid November. She told her son she would be away, presumably to avoid any birthday celebrations. Isn't that so silly 🤨. I am not sure that she will be. She has a decent sized family and quite a few friends, so I expect she will receive plenty of flowers. What can I do that is special? Flowers or chocolates, ho hum.

I did have a thought though. What about arriving at her door with the three of us with a couple of dozen helium balloons to set free to float up to her apartment ceiling? They will have ribbon tails, and if good quality will remain suspended for a few days.

It's Friday, so a little humour. No, its Saturday here but it is Friday somewhere. 

Yes, I did. 

I remember the late Sue doing this once.

I know one blogger, I forget who, posted this deck one before. Deck is best pronounced with a New Zealand accent. 

Sydney Day 3

I left out that dinner on day 2 was a burger at Stonewall Hotel. 

The first photo I took wasn't quite right, so I took a second. The man at the bottom of the photo looks rather cross at possibly being included. I would have cut him out, but his cross look is to be noted. The burger, chips and salad meal available was ok for the price.

An interesting building in Oxford Street.

Monday I walked down the steep Wentworth Avenue to Central Station where I met Victor and his friend and we set off on the L1 tram to the casino, where we met another of Victor's friends who was having a birthday. Mine was the next day. We found our way to a buffet restaurant with a seafood theme, although there were other choices aside from seafood. With a time allowance of 1.5 hours, it was all you can eat, and some people seemed to put away huge amounts of seafood, especially oysters and prawns. If seafood was your thing, then it was very good value, and it was certainly popular. 

We had a pleasant time, and the chat was good and of course with humour.  Back to Central on the L1 where we parted, and I decided to take a short train trip on the quite new Metro extension. Tunnels were dug under the harbour from the north side of Sydney Harbour and under the city, with quite a number of new stations built. It extends south into the inner area suburb Sydenham, and will soon open to travel further south.

The trip was quite quick as there seemed to be nothing to see at Sydenham. I soon caught a train back, but instead of leaving at Central, I continued on to the new underground station at Martin Place, which is connected to the older Martin Place Station.

 I caught the 333 bus back and after a drink in Oxford Street, I bought some take away Mexican, which was rather ordinary.

Back at my digs, the tablet sitting on the table was giving my neck gyp, so I found this pot in the kitchen cupboard to raise it up. Unfortunately I put it over the top of one of my hearing aids, which was 'lost' for a couple of days. 

The accommodation is not flash but comfortable, reasonably priced and in a great location.

 

No, I did not wash anything clothing.

Note the purple of the jacaranda tree on the far right. They came into full bloom while I was there, as someone suggested to me that they would. 

The new Metro is driverless and has platform screen doors, I think the first in Australia.

I am guessing this must have been at Central, rather than the new Martin Place Metro Station.

Surprises

"Andrew, we are taking you out on Saturday for lunch for your birthday." The whole point of being away for my birthday was to avoid such things, but it seems it was all in vain. It was also a day or so short of Kosov's birthday.

It was going to be a car trip to the charity shop, then to the big green shed for some gap filler and a duster for home. Apparently though, something was booked, so without a clue where we were going, Phyllis' phone guided us from the South Melbourne charity shop towards Richmond, then north. We are going to Easey Street in Collingwood, it seems. There is nothing much there but local people my age will remember the infamous street where the Easey Street murders occured. 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Easey_Street_murders 

https://www.abc.net.au/listen/programs/the-case-of/introducing-the-case-of-the-easey-street-murders/105922022

Finding an on street car parking space was challenging, after dropping off Kosov in Easey Street as we were a bit late for whatever was happening. We found a space and Phyllis reverse parked not quite expertly, but not badly. I knew it was paid parking, but I was feeling a bit stressed by not knowing what was going on and forgot. We walked down Easey Street to meet Kosov and I remembered the paid two hour parking. Phyllis went back to deal with it. I didn't give him the car remote, so I hoped he didn't have to put a ticket on the dashboard, and he didn't. He just had to enter the car registration number plate on the parking pay machine, and pay of course, which he did with his phone. 

Kosov greeted me at the doorway into a dim building, we were checked in and told the stairs were to the left. Ok, five storeys we climbed and ended up in an eating area. We were seated at our table and there were nice views from our seats. I looked around a bit, and what hit me was the double sliding steel doors, with a handle. OMG, we are in one of those three old 1970s retired Hitachi train carriages, sitting atop a four storey building. What a super surprise, and the meals were nice. 

Later we wandered along Smith Street and stopped for coffee at Kent Street Bar. We were supposed to go to the big green shed in Port Melbourne after lunch, but I'd had enough of 'being out'. 

Once home, I received the bottle of wine I mentioned on Sunday there was a heap of tiny Cherry Ripe bars, and a special meal was made for me and this appeared attached to the shelves.

The next day a parcel arrived containing various things Phyllis and Kosov had ordered. For me there was a new black case for my phone, which I love, and also this case for my car's black fob. It's not a match to the colour of the car but not far off. 

The cafe carriage is far right. The others might be offices. There is a lift but I think that is used as a dumb waiter.

So the next day after Kosov went to work, Phyllis drove us to Brunswick to collect what he had ordered for Kosov, a three kilo container of Nutella. It absolutely poured with rain on the way home, as Phyllis negotiated the tricky Haymarket Roundabout, and then another massive roundabout at South Wharf. I thought Phyllis may have been in the wrong lane in the heavy rain as we traversed the Haymarket Roundabout, because a car blasted its horn at us, but later after checking maps, we were not in the wrong lane, the horn blaster was. 

We soon reached Bunnings in Port Melbourne and bought what we needed, along with a sausage with onions in bread each at the charity fundraiser barbeque.

This tale will be continued.

Sydney Day 1 & 2

It was very strange to be visiting Sydney without Ray, visiting being something we had done often and only just last year, but it seems like a lifetime ago. Here is a link to the day we celebrated his 75th birthday, just last year.

Neighbour HH drove me to the airport, with Phyllis and Kosov to do an airport hug, who were then returning home by public transport via Victoria Market. 

After not having a holiday, aside from staying at Sister's, since Ray died, I saw no reason to spare expense and flew business class to Sydney with Virgin Australia. What a waste of money. It did give me access to the lounge in Melbourne with free food and drinks, but I was a bit too late to indulge much. The only other difference was a larger seat than economy and a modest meal. I thought business class would be seperated from the riff raff, but I was among them, just in front of them. I would never bother with domestic business class again.

The train from the airport charged my Sydney public transport card the usual usurious amount of about $17 for what should have cost $2.50 for an oldie. There was some confusion about my accommodation booking where we have always stayed, but that was quickly sorted out, with an extra couple of hundred dollars for a one bedroom with a balcony. It was money well spent. 

I arrived at my hotel around 4pm and went out to buy food and drinks to sustain me and dined at the Thai restaurant, staffed by hospitality worker students, at the base of the hotel. I ate half of what I ordered and what was left was boxed up for me to take back to my room. We've been to the restaurant many times and the food is always good. 

So, I am all on my lonesome in Sydney, and the first couple of days I asked myself why the hell was I here and where is Ray? I did settle in after a day or so, and fell into a very lazy routine of getting up at 7.00, showering at 8.00, taking medication at 8.30 along with sending my neighbour HH a dead in bed check sms. At 9.00 I would have some cereal, and maybe at 9.30-10.00 I would go out for a cup of coffee at a nearby cafe, sitting outside and watching the locals go about their business. By this time, the better dressed office workers had already disappeared from the streets (8.00 to 9.00 to see them), and it was mostly students, hospo and retail workers, along with tourists and locals shopping early and invariably a shouty or homeless person or three. 

I returned to my hotel and made myself some toast spread with butter(sic, and I left it out on the bench for ten days and it was fine) and marmalade. 

For my first full day, I caught the 440 bus to Central Station and had Ray's Sydney public transport card, Opal, balance transferred to mine. I took a look around the much changed Central since my last visit. I caught a train to Museum, to walk up the short hill to my digs. In the evening I walked up Oxford Street and had a drink at the Riley Hotel, and then one further up at the Colombian Hotel, where I had a burger, chips and salad at a very cheap price. I'll just say it should not have cost more than it did. 

Phyllis and Kosov were impressed by my three level train from the airport to my hotel.

More about the 333 bus to Bondi later, but isn't the destination a bit cute, showing a drowning person raising their hand high to be saved from the waves by Bondi Beach lifesavers. Well, that's what it looks like to me. I think it means hail the bus to get to Bondi Beach. 

We've never been to dominating Burdekin Hotel. It is certainly gay friendly, but I think it is more for straight people, even though it has drag shows. 

At the very corner of Liverpool and Oxford Streets.

It seems like I was up until after midnight when I snapped this photo. 

Looking up Oxford Street. 

It is the bleeding obvious that there should be a train to Bondi Beach, an extension of the Bondi Junction train. Instead there is the long articulated 333 bus every few minutes. The bus in painfully rough, noisy, always crowded and slow. The best thing about the buses is that although they are 19 years old they have great air conditioning.I think it was last year when they were given a life extension overhaul to ensure they are good for another 7 years. By then they will be 26 years old, an extraordinary age for a public bus. I've heard absolutely nothing about any kind of replacement or the buses.

The newest Sydney trams are absurdly long, made up of two long trams put together. The warnings are clear but two people have been killed as they tried to get over the connection between the joined trams to shortcut a walk around. 

I meant to return to the War Memorial to take better photos, but this is what I quickly snapped. I suppose if you clicked the Sydney tag on my blog, there would be photos from previous visits. 

Monday Mural

Joining in with Sami, this mural photo was taken outside Sydney's Carriageworks, an old railway workshop. More about that down the track. I think it is exceptionally nice, and note the little doggie sitting to the bottom right. 

Later edit: Thanks to Marcellous for a link to who the people are in the mural. I should have at least recognised Dame Marie Bashir. 

Sunday Selections

Yes, a few days ago I returned home from a pleasant break in Sydney. Obviously more later, but along with River and others, here is Sunday Selections. (excuse me, I left the keyboard for a minute and Jass wanted to type a message to you. I think she meant to say hi) ghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghgh (Andrew told her to get off the keyboard, but she had to have the last word, or rather symbol)

/

These are just some unused random photos.

March, at Port Melbourne Beach.

An evening with a interesting light.

Animal Hotel, a backpackers' accommodation, has been begoned. I must check what is being built there. I expect the room with the air conditioning unit in the window costs more. 

Odd things appear in my apartment at times, which I have no idea of what they are about. 

I am always impressed by a moon that shines so brightly in the daylight.

Phyllis? Kosov? Why is there a plastic snake in the laundry trough? 

"It began very small Ondreeeww, and has swelled in the water and over the next few weeks. it will get much larger."

I am just glad I don't need the laundry trough, although their washing basket normally sits there and is now on the bathroom floor. 

The lads bought me a nice bottle of wine for me for my birthday. There is more on that to come.

But there was an ulterior motive. Phyllis wanted the a second bottle for cooking oil to match his first. 

I've probably used this photo before, but Sue, if I am wrong about the afterlife, enjoy it again. It was a very busy balloon day.

With a vague connection to my comment above, this graph pleases me. The bad from religion far outweighs the good, and I do recognise that there is much good on a social and care level from religion.