Weekends

When Gom & I were much younger, and both still really "Alive", we sometimes took a weekend break in the Center of Sydney City.

An odd choice you may think. We lived in a quiet dormitory suburb, about an hour's travel from Sydney City, so the hustle and bustle of Sydney city was quite a novelty- just for one weekend!

It reminded us of other, younger,  trips to Sydney, taken from Christchurch, before we resided in Australia.

On most of those trips, we would stay at some Motel, close to Kings Cross, or, as it is locally known, 'the Cross'.

My first visit was quite shattering, in the sadness I saw, of miserable lives, drug addicted young girls, 'on the game' begging for custom. The sad, and the lonely, begging for 'love' or some comfort, be it drugs or sex.

It seemed a whole world away from the life I knew, and lived. It was certainly very colourful, and there was also, much to laugh about and much to admire, in the form of buildings, locals, and bars. It is true, the Cross never sleeps.

Our accommodations were usually comfortable, and most adequate for our needs.
On one trip, we had prepaid for accommodation, on the recommendation of friends. Imagine our horror when we could find no one to admit us and acknowledge our booking. A fellow guest let us into the building and ascertained which room we had been allocated. The stained bedcovers were the first 'clue'. The second was the mobile cupboard when we opened the door. No, it was not a new and fancy peice of furniture- it was in fact a heaving haven for scurrying cockroaches.

We dumped our bags, took our key and set off to find new, and more sanitary and pleasing accommodation!
We found a very nice deal close by, so checked in there, then returned to the Cockroach Palace, retrieved our luggage and left the key on the desk.  Thankfully, our money for the booking was refunded to us, on our return to New Zealand.

No wonder the Customs officers seemed to be laughing at us when they read our 'intended staying address'! Perhaps Cockroach Palace was notorious.

For one of our weekend breaks, after we became residents, we decided to try an inner city high rise Motel. Our son and his lovley partner were living close by, and they were very excited to meet us and take us to their favourite Chinese Restaraunt for a meal on the Satruday night.

We arrived on Friday night, and were happy to see our rooms were nice enough. We went off to explore the city sights and then wandered close to the Motel to find a bar, for a drink or meal before we retired for the night.

I was disgusted with our choice of Club. It was a ~insert name of most famous Church beginning with C~ Club, situated down some stairs in a basement location. It seemed to have men only customers, and one particularly objectionable individual made us feel most uncomfortable as he rudely began effing and blinding as hard, and as loudly, as could. I glared at him, which only seemed to trigger more vile language, and I was amazed to find the other patrons and the staff all turned a blind eye and deaf ear, to this boorish pig's behaviour. I am positive he was not a Tourettes sufferer. I know this will offend some, but I decided he was a 'retired Priest' who detested women, and most of mankind.
Perhaps the fact that the Bartender addressed the disgusting old swine as "Father" was a further clue!

We did not linger, and left to spend our night sleeping.

Hahaha! Fat hope. We discovered that the High Rise Motel became a megaphone for every scream, crash, fight, swearing attack, fire engine siren, ambulance siren, revving of engines,  and screeching of brakes. Then, just as we were thinking it was becoming quieter in the early morning hours, the trash trucks began their rounds, emptying what sounded like a thousand broken bottles, into the huge maws of their vehicles.. The cacophany of the city was echoed up the walls of the canyon, which is what it all became in the night.

When our Son and his lady arrived to collect us next day, we were having an afternoon nap, trying to regain lost sleep!
The Chinese Restaraunt had delicious food- every other soul in Sydney agreed, and we had to wait some lengthy time for a table. It was all worth it, however.

I think that is the last weekend away, that we took in Sydney City.

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Updates.

Honey has had her tumours removed, and seems to be coping, apart from wanting to chew the stitches on the leg! Another trip to Vet to get it restrapped and purchase a Cone for her head. She was so miserable wearing it, I took pity on her and removed it. At this rate she will bankrupt me!!
I take her back today to have it all rebandaged.

My surgery has been moved forward and I am told I cannot be 'bumped or postponed' on this list. I attended the Hospital to see the Surgeon again, yesterday. All systems go.

Tomorrow Son & I are attending an Information session at the Hosp, where they take us through the op, visit the ward, and generally give us as much pre information as they can, so we/I will know what to expect.

Son may possibly be away while I am in Hospital. Not sure of his return date, so am hoping to be mobile and active when I escape get discharged. I am just like Gom, in that I detest being incapacitated and having to be in Hospital.

We are having a very hot streak of weather, and it is raining now, so humid. We were looking forward to the "Southerly Change" to cool things down. I guess, in the Northern Hemisphere it is a "Northerly Change" you will look forward to having arrive?

When we lived in Christchurch, we absolutely dreaded the "Nor Wester" which blew across the Canterbury Plains and gained ever more heat as it travelled to the Eastern coast, which is where Christchurch is situated

Janis Ian. In the Winter.  (Because, it is still Winter in my heart.)