It's so nice to be back home where I belong

It's so nice to be back home where I belong

I was back in London after nearly nine months of travelling. I had originally arranged for my round the world ticket to get me back in mid February for a couple of reasons. I had a couple of birthdays I wanted to be in the country for, I wasn’t sure if I would be bored of travelling after nine months and it would give me a handy excuse if I had overspent my travel budget (most likely on gin). Thankfully I was still under budget and had an appetite for more travelling so I began work on arranging the remaining gays in various European cities to get me to 80.

I suppose this part of the story isn’t really a part of my 80 Gays travels. If this whole adventure ever gets turned into a movie, this bit would be covered by one of those montage scenes with some appropriate song playing in the background, which fades away so you can hear snippets of various conversations. I’ll do the screenwriters a favour and just give the potted highlights of my couple of weeks back in the UK.

Place mat

• I was collected from the airport by my dear friend Gail, one of the rare occasions she was actually on time for meeting me. I spent a couple of days with her, her husband and my godsons. Helping to look after a three year old and a one year old was a great way to stop the jet lag from hitting me. The boys had changed so much in the time I had been away. We headed out to a restaurant for lunch on my final day with them. I kept the boys entertained by making a cat out the paper place mat. My eldest godson recognised what I had made, which made me feel pretty good. Gail joined in by making a paper plane, going for something thin and sleek in the style of Concorde. She said “What has Mummy made?”. The response was a quizzical look, followed by the suggestion it was a nail.

• I headed up home to see family and friends for a few days. I got a massive hug at the station from Mother and it was a good few minutes before she finally let go. Once we were back at her house and my sister arrived I gave them both the gifts I had picked out at the airport in Hong Kong – a Tiffany heart keyring for each of them. My sister opened the card first, and having read the message inside, started to cry. Mother looked up to see why she was crying as she had made a beeline for the present, ignoring the card attached to it.

• We had a family trip over to see my granddad for his 92nd birthday. Over lunch I told him a little bit about my travels and some of the things I had done while away. I told him how I had held a gun in Texas but hadn’t had the chance to go shoot it, asking him if he had fired his gun during the war. He told us that he had never fired the gun they had given him but just after the war had ended and they were still in Germany they had come across a German rifle in the woods, near a railway line. My granddad had picked the rifle up. At that moment a few hundred feet away a deer was crossing the railway line. My granddad had taken aim and fired, not imagining for one moment he would get anywhere close. The deer dropped onto the tracks, having been unlucky enough to be hit by a novice marksman.  My granddad and his fellow soldiers handed the rifle and the deer carcass to a rather bemused German farmer.

• I spent a very enjoyable evening with Sara(h) Squared watching the men’s 10m synchronised diving championships in what would in a few short months time be the aquatics centre for the London 2012 Olympic Games. It was a great evening out – fit men in speedos to watch while we enjoyed a drink in the stands. We spent the warm up session picking out who we thought had the nicest design on their trunks and then got ready for the competition. I wasn’t paying attention when the announcer said what the first dive would be. I turned to Sarah and asked her what they were doing.

Sarah: “I think it is a back one and a half somersault with tuck”

Me: “With tut?”

Sarah: “Yeah, just as they are about to hit the water they have to tut”

Dean and Ramon

• Having successfully navigated around the world for nine months I managed to get totally lost on the way to Claire’s 30th birthday party, in central London. I arrived about a half hour later than planned but we had a good catch up and reminisced about the wine tasting tour we had done a few months earlier in Sydney. Neither of us had been able to think about a Semillon in the same way ever since.

• Dean got a new friend, Ramon, to join him on the European leg of my trip, courtesy of Sarah and Marcella who had given me Dean as a going away present. 

“It's so nice to be back home where I belong” 
Lyrics from Hello, Dolly! from the musical Hello, Dolly!

It would sure be nice to be back home

 It would sure be nice to be back home

It had finally arrived. The day I was flying back to London having been away for some 262 days (and 68 gays). It felt simultaneously as though I had been away for an eternity and an instant. I was really ready to see family and friends again, a feeling that I hoped would be mutual. My flight wasn’t until the evening so I had most of the day to do stuff although I knew I would set off for the airport with more than enough time to spare. I had breakfast once more with Brian and Pavlo. They were headed off for a trip to China and were very excited about that. It had taken a bit of effort to arrange their visas and they planned on making the most of the time there. China was on my list of places to visit, but that would have to be another trip.

I wasn’t really in the mood for doing more touristy things so I decided I would completely empty my suitcase, get rid of anything that I didn’t need to take home and then make use of the space created by going and doing some shopping. I figured it was about time for another full wardrobe change, the previous one having been back in Portland in October. I was hoping the prices in Hong Kong would be a lot more reasonable than the prices back in London.

The shopping trip was proving fairly successful into the last store, Esprit. The rails of clothes were very close together, with not enough room to pass someone if they were coming in the opposite direction down the same aisle as you. I wandered a few of the aisles, picking up a couple of shirts and about a half dozen t-shirts to try. Armed with my prospective purchases I headed towards the changing room. As I got to the end of one aisle there was a woman coming down the one I needed to go up to get to the changing room. I stepped to one side allowing her to pass. As I set off I felt myself being pulled back and could hear a large metallic scraping sound. I had managed to get my bag strap caught round the end of the rail and was dragging it behind me. I could feel myself turning red as people turned to look at me.

Mother, stuck inside the Statue of Liberty

The incident reminded me of the time in New York on a family holiday with my sister and Mother. We had taken a trip over to the Statue of Liberty. It had only recently reopened fully and we had tickets to go inside the statue. Having climbed up to the crown and had some pictures taken we made our way back down the spiral staircase. My sister was in the lead, then Mother with me last. I stopped a couple of times to take some photos of the inside of the statue so a little gap had opened up between us. I heard the unmistakeable voice of Mother echoing up through the hollow metal interior of Lady Liberty, announcing to all that she was stuck. She had managed to get the back of her jumper caught on the handrail of the staircase. Having gone down a couple of steps she was unable to go any further. I made my way down the stairs to unstick her, first pausing to record the moment for posterity with a photo.  

Having untangled myself from my predicament and returned the clothing rail to its original position I continued on to the changing room. My face had just about returned to its normal colour. The shop assistant at the changing room entrance smiled broadly at me. I showed her the items I wished to try on in case there were a limit to the number you could take in in one go. She pointed to one of the t-shirts and said “This for lady. You no lady”. My face once again returned to a hue of deep red as I handed her the t-shirt back. In my defence, the only signs I had been able to read in the store had been the price labels and there was not a clear dividing line between menswear and womenswear. 

Purchases complete I made my way back to Brian and Pavlo’s. I packed my new purchases and soon I was all ready for my return home. I left a thank you card and a bottle of bubbly for my hosts and then headed out, remembering to drop their keys off with the porter. I got a cab to the station and then the train back to the airport. Once my luggage was checked in and I had cleared security I had plenty of time to have a wander round the shops. I picked up a very belated present for my friend Gail, who would be picking me up from Heathrow the following morning. I had set off on my travels a month before a rather large birthday of hers. I also picked up a couple of gifts for my sister and Mother. Part of the reason I was headed home for a couple of weeks was so that I could go see my granddad on his 92nd birthday. I picked up some of his favourite little cigars, one of the few presents we still bought him. I chuckled to myself at the advert on the package, which was warning that smoking could lead to erectile dysfunction. At nearly 92 I didn’t think he would be too bothered.

My attention in Duty Free wandered over to a cute guy in the gin section. Given I like both gin and cute guys I made my way in that direction. He looked up from his gin browsing and we made eye contact. It lingered for slightly longer that it would have done if he were a straight man so I smile. There was a hint of a smile before he looked back at the shelves. The was another moment of eye contact and smiling as he made his way to the till to pay for his shopping. I felt like I had been standing in the shop for a little while so I went and found a seat in towards the direction of my gate, but not that far from Duty Free that I wouldn’t be able to see him leave.

I decided if fate brought him in my direction I would do something that I had rarely done before – I would ask him if he wanted a drink. Fate did bring him my way but it also brought a woman with a clipboard doing some sort of survey. She said hello and then launched into a well-rehearsed monologue about the survey she was doing. I listened, waiting for her to pause for breath so I could interrupt and politely decline her invitation to answer a few questions. In the time it took me to get rid of the survey woman the cute gin guy had walked right by where I had been sat. I looked down the terminal building and could see him not that far ahead, walking away. I reckoned I could catch him up so I grabbed by bag and made off after him. I was nearly caught up with him when he turned off and into the entrance for one of the lounges. I took myself and my economy class ticket back to the gate to wait for my flight back to Heathrow.

“It would sure be nice to be back home” 
Lyrics from Home from the musical The Wiz

No good deed

No good deed goes unpunished, Sure, I meant well

No good deed goes unpunished

I woke early on my second morning and made myself some coffee, returning to my room to do a bit of writing. I finished another blog post then quickly checked my email and Facebook. I had a friend request from someone I didn’t recognise. I flicked back through my journal to see if it was someone I had met recently but the name didn’t ring any bells. I clicked on their profile and noticed we had one mutual friend, N, a guy that I had dated for a few months before I had left on my travels. I dropped N a message to ask if I had ever met the person who was now trying to befriend me. I heard Brian and Pavlo up and about so went to join them for some breakfast.

Over breakfast Brian & Pavlo gave me some suggestions of things I should definitely see and do in my remaining time in Hong Kong.  On their list of suggestions was a trip to see the Big Buddha up at Ngong Ping.  They told me I could get the subway to Tung Chung and from there it was either bus or a cable car. They recommended taking the cable car for the views and the comfort of the ride, assuring me it was worth paying that bit extra compared to the bus. When I arrived at Tung Chung I found out that the cable car was closed for repairs so I was left with no choice but to take a bus. I found the bus stop, noted the sign saying that they only accepted the exact fare in cash and joined the queue.

  

The bus arrived and we slowly filed aboard. I found a seat about halfway down the bus, next to an open window, which was providing a nice breeze. The bus was just about full to capacity when I heard an American woman talking to the driver, her voice getting increasingly louder. It wasn’t hard to hear what the issue was. She didn’t have the exact fare and was trying to get him to accept a large note. It was clear that he wasn’t going to let her on without the exact fare and she wasn’t going to get off the bus to go get some change as that would mean the bus would leave without her. I checked through my wallet. I had enough change to pay her fare. I headed up to the front of the bus and gave her the change for the fare. She thanked me profusely and I politely allowed her in front of me to go find a seat. By the time I turned to go back to my seat I saw that someone had moved into it. I was left having to make do with the seat right in the centre at the back of the bus, which meant no nice window seat, no breeze, no view and a rather uncomfortable journey. Thanks karma.  

The journey up to Ngong Ping was up a windy mountain road and took an age. I could see how a cable car would have been a lot more appealing. The Big Buddha lived up to its name. The place felt eerily remote, surrounded on all sides by wooded hills with little signs of civilisation. The Buddha sat atop a hill with a long set of stairs to climb up to it. Even before I got to the top I knew that this would be another place where I wished I had someone with me to share in the experience. I spent about an hour wandering around the Buddha and the surrounding area, taking in the sights before steeling myself for the bumpy bus ride back down.

Once back in civilisation I found a spot to have some lunch. I still had the pay as you go SIM card from Australia in my phone and so I was able to get online as I used up the last of the credit on it. I had a quick check on Facebook to see what was happening as a distraction whilst lunching alone. I saw a message from Brian inviting me to dinner with some of his friends that evening. My only plans for the rest of the day had been to do a spot of clothes shopping so I ditched that in order to go meet Brian and make some new friends. I made my way back to Brian & Pavlo’s place to freshen up and change into something more suitable for dinner than the shorts and t-shirt I was sporting.

Having showered and changed I checked out where I needed to get to as I wasn’t entirely sure where I was headed. I had a street address and had looked it up on Google maps, taking a photo of the screen as a reference for if I got lost. I headed out, stopping en route to buy a bottle of wine and then took the subway downtown. I was soon in the area I thought I needed to be in but couldn’t see the street or building number I needed. I checked the photo of the map a couple of times, retracing my steps and checking the streets off as I went. I still couldn’t find where I needed to be. I tried to get online to message Brian but I had clearly used up my credit, which meant I was unable to call him either. As I stood thinking what the best thing to do was I spotted Pavlo, looking similarly lost. Thankfully he could call Jack, whose place we were headed to and soon we had the directions we needed.

I was introduced to Jack and the wine was cracked open. Jack was British and had been in Hong Kong with work for a couple of years. We chatted for a while about the things we missed from back home. Brian arrived a little later with another friend, Tina. More introductions were followed by more wine. Over dinner I regaled everyone with tales of my travels, answering the usual questions I would get from strangers – favourite places, strangest moments, best host so far. As my travels got longer it was becoming increasing more difficult to answer the questions. By the end of dinner and a lot of wine I was ready for the taxi home.

Sure, I meant well

Just before I climbed into bed I checked my messages and emails. I had received a reply from N. It turned out that the friend request was from his new boyfriend. I didn’t realise he had even started seeing anyone. Apparently the new boyfriend had looked through N’s Facebook messages and had seen some flirty messages we had shared a few months previously. It turned out that N was already seeing the new boyfriend when we had been messaging. He asked me to ignore the friend request. The old, pre-travel me would have felt bad and apologised for the flirty messages, even though I had no idea the new boyfriend was on the scene. The new, post-travel me figured I had done nothing wrong – the messaging had been mutual, he could have told me he was seeing someone but he didn’t. I didn’t bother responding to him, I just defriended him. I had made so many new friends on my trip that I wouldn’t miss losing one.

“No good deed goes unpunished, Sure, I meant well” 
Lyrics from No Good Deed from the musical Wicked

The fog rolls in

The fog rolls in, and there it stays

The fog rolls in

The flight from Sydney to Hong Kong lasted three films, four episodes of The Big Bang Theory, two meals and several gin and tonics. It had been the longest flight of my trip so far that I had been awake for. The flights from Los Angeles to Auckland and Buenos Aires to Mexico City had both been longer but had been night flights and with the help of a couple of sleeping tablets and gin I had slept through them both.  In the nearly nine months of travelling so far I had had no success in being seated next to any gays (as far as I knew) or been seated in a section of the plane being looked after by a gay trolley dolly. I’d not been able to flirt my way to any upgrades either, not that I had ever been good at that sort of thing. The only time I had ever managed anything like that was on a very short flight from Aberdeen to Gatwick. During the 40-minute flight I had got through four G&T’s because the steward serving them was cute and we had made a lot of eye contact. He told me in a text the next day that the crew on that flight had been checking out all the passengers as we boarded and that I had been unanimously voted “Bob” – Best on board. We dated for a year.

My hosts in Hong Kong were Brian and his boyfriend. Brian and I used to work for the same company before I had quit. We had met when he moved over from the Los Angeles office to work in London. He had put me in touch with Matt who had been one of my LA gays and after his move to Hong Kong he told me I was more than welcome to stay with them once my travels brought me there. He had been pencilled into my itinerary for over a year but we had only finalised the details a few days before my arrival. He had explained that they would both be at work when I arrived so he would leave a key with the security guard at their building. He gave me detailed directions on how to get from the airport to central Hong Kong and where to tell the taxi driver to go, including a phonetic pronunciation of the address in Cantonese in case my driver didn’t speak much English. He told me roughly what the taxi should cost too. It made my arrival stress free which given I was a little tired and was probably 10% gin was a good thing.

I cleared immigration, collected my case and got the train into Hong Kong. There was a queue for the taxis but it moved pretty quickly. I found the piece of paper I had jotted down Brian’s address and showed it to the driver. Thankfully I didn’t need to attempt the phonetic Cantonese version.  The traffic was very heavy and progress was very slow. The driver asked if I was ok with him taking the mountain road as it was probably going to be quicker. I had no idea where Brian’s place was in relation to where we were so I said “sure, why not”. A few minutes later we had turned off the main road and were heading upwards. The mountain road turned out to be the road up to Victoria Peak. As we neared the top the road was busy with coaches, many parked up as groups of people milled around on tours. They had not chosen a great day for it as the city was shrouded in fog. It was impossible to make out any of the buildings but the fog was lit up in a rainbow of colours.

And there it stays

I arrived at the rather cutely named Wendy Apartments where I would be staying for the next few days and found Brian’s building. As per his instructions a set of keys were waiting for me with the security guy on reception. I headed up to the apartment and let myself in. There was a light on but I didn’t think anything of it. I lugged my case across the threshold, closed the door behind me and headed in to the apartment. The sight of someone sat at the dining table just in front of me scared the crap out of me. It was Brian’s boyfriend who I had only met once before. I momentarily forgot his name, so opened with a safe “Hello you!” and followed it up with a swift “I didn’t think anyone was going to be home”. As he showed me to what would be my room and made me feel welcome I racked my brain to remember his name. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was something desserty.  A short while later Brian returned home. As we hugged Brian said “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to message you to say that Pavlo would be home”. Pavlo! That was it. 

The next morning I woke up early and found Brian and Pavlo already up and having breakfast.  They poured me a coffee and asked me about my plans for the day. I said that I didn’t have a set plan and would probably just have a wander around the centre for a while, get my bearings and soak up the atmosphere.  They both left for work and I took my time getting ready. Armed with a map, my iPod and wearing some comfortable shoes I set off for my day of wandering. The fog of the previous evening remained making a tourist trip up Victoria Peak rather pointless. Instead I contented myself with just wandering the busy, narrow streets taking in the sights, sounds and smells of the place. It was completely different to anywhere I had been on my travels so far. As I passed a Bank of China I noticed a large queue outside. It snaked across the path and I had to navigate a way through the queue. I suddenly felt very self-conscious about how English I must have sounded as I said “Pardon me please”.

My wandering brought me into the centre of the city and to the Bank of China main building.  The queue outside it was unbelievable. It wrapped around the building a couple of times, up over a bridge and round a corner. It must have been a couple of miles long.  It had me perplexed. Thankfully I randomly bumped into Pavlo who was on his way to the gym in his lunch break and he explained that a new 100 dollar note had been released to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the bank and people were queueing up to buy them as the new money was considered to be lucky. I decided against joining the queue. Instead I filled my day visiting the Hong Kong Gardens, walking round the harbour and embarrassing myself at lunch by my complete lack of language skills which meant I ordered by doing an impression of a chicken and then pointing towards the big plate of noodles on the next table.

“The fog rolls in, and there it stays”
Lyrics from Entering Grey Gardens from the musical Grey Gardens

Homesick blues

They said I would sing the homesick blues, so I always have this ticket in my pocket

They said I would sing the homesick blues 

DIY bacon sandwich

It was my penultimate full day in Sydney. Matt wasn’t at work until the afternoon so we headed out for lunch after a lazy morning. He took me to a little café just round the corner from his and we found a table outside in the morning sunshine. A waitress came to take our order. I asked her if I could just get a bacon sandwich.  They had a bacon and egg sandwich and a BLT on the menu so I figured it would be a fairly simple request even though it wasn’t technically on the menu. She said that she would have to check with the kitchen to see if they could do a bacon sandwich and headed off before I could say anything else. I looked at Matt, confused. They had bacon, they had bread, they made sandwiches but she needed to check that they could make a bacon sandwich? After a minute or so she returned saying that they “didn’t do custom made sandwiches” but I could have toast with a side order of bacon and make the sandwich myself. I laughed, thinking she was joking. She wasn’t. I was tempted to ask for an egg-free bacon and egg sandwich but thought she might spit in my food so I went along with her plan. Lunch duly arrived and I had to make my own sandwich. I muttered something about leaving myself a tip given I had to do half the work myself.

Matt headed off to work and I headed to the New South Wales art gallery. On the walk over the skies turned an ominous shade of dark grey and just before I arrived the heavens opened.  The sudden downpour meant that the gallery got very busy as people who had been sunning themselves in the park tried to find a bit of shelter.  I wandered aimlessly for a while checking out the various rooms and exhibits.  After a while I found myself studying the people more than the art.

As I sat watching the people milling around I got a message from my friend back home in London, Gail. I would be staying with her, her husband and my godchildren for a couple of days when I first landed back and she was confirming my flight details and that she would come and pick me up from the airport. I couldn’t wait to see her and the boys again. The youngest was only a couple of months old when I had gone and was now coming up to being a year old so I knew he would have changed a lot and I was excited to see them. 

I got to thinking about all the people I would soon be catching up with. I started to feel homesick, the realisation that I was missing people more than I had previously thought hitting me hard. I had a desire to get away from all the people in the gallery, their laughter and chatter seeming to get louder and louder as my mood fell. I think it was the combination of the proximity of my return home and the dark weather that contributed to me being in a very odd mood. I walked back to Matt’s, getting absolutely soaked on the way back. I felt like I needed to do something routine, something that I would do back at home so I cracked open a bottle of wine and settled on the sofa with the first season of Sex and the City from Matt’s DVD collection. It felt oddly comforting and I didn’t move from the sofa for the rest of the afternoon and evening.

So I always have this ticket in my pocket

My final day had arrived. I spent the morning sorting out my luggage and checking in for my flight to Hong Kong. I hadn’t fully unpacked my case the whole time I had been in Oz so I took the opportunity to unpack and repack everything. Seeing everything neat and tidy once more in my suitcase had a therapeutic effect. My mood from the previous day had lifted and I was ready to make the most of my last full day.  Matt and I headed out for lunch, Matt taking me to one of his favourite places knowing that I wouldn’t have to build my own sandwich. The place, Fratelli Paradiso was a little cruisy and served great coffee. Most of the tables seemed to be occupied by the gays.

My 80 Gays business cards

Late afternoon we headed out for drinks. The Sydney gay scene was absolutely heaving, as it had been the Mardi Gras Fair Day. We caught up with some of Matt’s friends at the Bank Hotel for a few drinks. There seemed to be a constant flow of people trying to get through the spot where we were stood. I chatted to several of Matt’s friends, having to explain each time who I was and all about my travels. I was thankful of my little business cards which had my website details on the back as I could just hand one of those over and tell people to check it out. I still felt a little like a magician when I got the cards out and fanned them out so people could pick one in a colour that they liked. All of Matt’s friends were really friendly and fun but it was soon time for us to head off as I had arranged to meet up with my previous Sydney hosts.

Matt and I left his friends and made our way over to the Beresford. It was another busy venue and we finally found a bit of space outside. Not long after our arrival we were joined by Dan (Number 58), his friend Kurt who had joined us on a few of our trips out and Dave and Brian (Numbers 56 and 57). After introductions were done conversations turned to my hosts swapping notes on what I was like as a houseguest.  They were all very polite about me, probably because I was stood with them. 

The guys asked me what my highlights of Sydney had been. I had had some once-in-a-lifetime experiences – seeing the fireworks on New Year’s Eve from a great spot in the Harbour and climbing the Bridge – but they were things that anyone could do. The things I thought of as the highlights were much more personal. Dave and Brian making sure I had a stocking full of presents from “Santa” on Christmas Day, meeting their friends and being welcomed to Christmas Day celebrations, Dan and his friend driving me up to the Blue Mountains and getting shouted at by the person in the house from Sylvania Waters and Matt thinking I was called Dean and organising a rooftop party for me.

After going through the highlights I was asked about the lowlights. I struggled to think of much. There was the vaguely racist man who started talking to me on the ferry over to Manly but that was about it. There was the random drunk man who wouldn’t leave me alone when I had gone with Dan to The Shift. As we talked about drunken nutters we had some sort of “Field of Dreams” moment – if you talk about them, they will come. We were interrupted mid conversation by a rather drunken guy who came up to our little group, pushed his way in and made a beeline for me. He started talking at me as though we were friends and I racked my brain to think if I knew him. During the brief conversation he got a little handsy.

I couldn’t tell whether it was his attempt at flirting or whether he was just trying to steady himself as he was swaying a little while standing next to me.  After about a minute or so he left, saying he had to go talk to his friends but he would be back. I couldn’t wait. As he walked off he turned around and winked at me. The penny finally dropped. It was the guy who had cruised me on the train a few days previously. The rest of the group all looked at me, waiting for an explanation. I went with the truth, telling them about the incident on the train but that I didn’t know the guy. Clearly he was a forgetful drunk, as he didn’t return as promised which I was rather pleased about.

The night drew to a close and I said my goodbyes and thank yous to my gays, having a bit of a group hug before we all went off our separate ways. Matt and I walked back to his stopping to pick up some food on the way home. The next morning I was up early and set about packing my case once again. The time had finally arrived to leave Australia and move on to my final stop before my brief scheduled return home. I said goodbye and thank you to Matt and headed to the airport for my flight to Hong Kong. 

“They said I would sing the homesick blues, so I always have this ticket in my pocket” 
Lyrics from Not for the life of me from the musical Thoroughly Modern Millie 

Worth the uphill climb

And you never know 'til you reach the top if it was worth the uphill climb

And you never know 'til you reach the top

The next morning Matt was up and out early to go to work. I was pleased that I didn’t have any pressing engagements to be up for. I didn’t feel hung-over but I certainly knew that I had had a few drinks the previous night. I snoozed for a while. My rumbling stomach finally prompted me into action. Had it not been for the sudden wave of hunger I could possibly have stayed in bed for the whole day. Sometimes it just has to be done. Having got myself ready I headed out and had a little wander round, finally settling on a nice looking café with some tables outside in the sun. I settled myself in for a leisurely brunch. It was nice to have the time to sit and actually enjoy the food and the people watching.

Matt had suggested that if I wanted to see a show I could meet him later in the day at work and watch Miriam Margolyes do a one-woman show about Dickens’ women. Having been travelling for nearly 9 months and in Australia for the last two I felt like I was in the need of doing something a little cultural so I decided I would take him up on the offer. I headed from Matt’s place to the theatre having checked the public transport route beforehand. As I waited on the platform at Kings Cross I played my favourite game, Spot the Gay. Not literally of course, I don’t carry around packets of those little sticky dots to put on people who I think are friends of Dorothy, although that could be a fun twist to the game. There were plenty of potential candidates to spot on the platform and it passed the time until my train arrived. I got on & found myself a seat.

One of the guys I had mentally stuck a little spot on got on the train too. He stayed near the doors but was in my line of sight. He looked over and smiled. My spot was in the right place. I smiled back, not wanting to appear rude. He kept smiling and staring and I began to feel a little uncomfortable, deciding the best thing to do was to look out of the window for a little while. I turned back after a minute or so and he was still looking my way. He smiled again and winked at me as the train was pulling in to the next station.  He got off the train but I could see him loitering on the platform. I stayed where I was. As the doors closed and the train started to pull out of the station he winked at me again. I still had it! Ego boosted by the attention I continued the rest of the journey to meet Matt with a smile on my face.

I chatted with Matt for a while until the start of the show. I think I was one of the few people under 50 in attendance. The show itself was pretty interesting, brought to life by a great performance from Miriam. A one-woman show must be a lot of hard work. It also made me realise how little of Dickens I had actually read. We had read “Great Expectations” at school but with a mixed ability class progress through the book had not always been the quickest. I don’t think we ever finished the book before the exams either, our teacher opting to show us the film version so we knew how it ended. The English class had also been the only time I had ever been sent out of a school lesson. We had been reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream and I had got a fit of the giggles at the stage direction “Enter Bottom with a candle”. When the teacher had asked me what was so amusing I had been unable to answer and unable to control my laughter so I was sent outside for ten minutes to compose myself.  The evening was rounded off with dinner with Matt and a fairly early night.

If it was worth the uphill climb

The next morning I was up fairly late and went out to get coffee and some food, Matt having already gone to work. For my birthday and Christmas my sister and Mother had given me the money to book myself on to a Sydney Harbour Bridge climb. I pottered about for a while before making my way down to the harbour and the bridge. I was feeling a little apprehensive as I waited with my fellow climbers for our climb. I had no problem with heights but I was worried about the breathalyser test I would have to take beforehand. I had avoided alcohol all day but I was concerned that after eight months of near continuous drinking that my breath was probably about 15% proof and I would fail the test. I was first up for the breathalyser so I had the entire group all watching as I blew into the machine, waiting for the alarm to buzz. I prayed silently for a miracle and someone heard my prayers. No alarm or beeping noise indicating I was a lush. I was sober enough to climb.

We donned the fetching overalls and our safety harnesses before having the safety talk from our guide. She took us through a few basics and we listened via the headsets that we had been provided with. It meant that we would all be able to hear her instructions during the climb. We were soon heading out onto the bridge, securely attached to the cable running alongside the walkway. I knew that I would be limited to having conversations with the people immediately in front and behind me for the next couple of hours so I lined up next to the people who looked the chattiest. I lined up behind two girls on holiday from Atlanta and had a couple from Perth just behind me. I chatted to the two girls in front who had only arrived in Sydney that morning. They had the soft Southern accent that brought memories of my time in the States and I filled them in on my travels and what I had seen when in Atlanta. Conversation flowed until we reached the part where we had to start climbing up and then most of the group fell into silence.

  

The climb was worth it. The views over Sydney from the top of the bridge were amazing. I couldn’t help but burst into a little Dirty Dancing number, singing “Now I’ve had the Climb of My Life”.  My fellow climbers didn’t seem that impressed by my singing but tied on to the bridge as we were they had nowhere to go. There was a bit of time at the top to get our breath back and watch the sun set as we had our photos taken. We all posed for a group photo before everyone had a few individual shots taken. Our guide also took a few smaller group photos, getting people to pose with their families or friends. After the two girls from Atlanta had their photos taken it was my turn. I walked to the spot where people had been standing for photos and the guide asked who was in my group. I said I was alone and she kindly repeated it, broadcasting it to the headsets of everyone else in the group. I felt my cheeks flush as people in the group turned to look at me, Billy No Mates. The couple from Perth said I could join them in their photo. I politely declined.

After the sun had set we navigated our way safely back down the bridge, unhooking ourselves from the safety harness and returning all our kit. Having changed back into normal clothes I went to see the photos that had been taken up on the bridge. Looking at them I decided I really needed to learn how to do a fake photo smile so I didn’t end up with photos that would not look out of place on the rogue’s gallery on Crimewatch or leave me looking like I was suffering from some sort of facial paralysis. I picked a couple of the least worst ones and headed back to Matt’s. The first thing I did when I arrived back at his was pour myself a nice big glass of wine.

“And you never know 'til you reach the top if it was worth the uphill climb” 
Lyrics from There’s a Fine, Fine Line from the musical Avenue Q