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

My seat on the train

My seat on the train is booked

My seat on the train is booked

I arrived at Canberra train station ready for my train back to Sydney. I checked my suitcase in, the guard congratulating me on having the case exactly on the 20kg weight allowance. This was more by luck than planning but it gave me a good guide as to how heavy the case was ahead of my upcoming flights to Hong Kong and then back home to London. There wouldn’t be that much room for presents unless I ditched some of my clothes. Having not done any clothes shopping since Portland about four months previous I was getting to the point of feeling like I needed another wardrobe change. I decided Hong Kong might be the place for shopping. I made my way on to the train and found my seat, ready to sit back and watch people get confused by the basic seat numbering system. I had a bet (with myself) that at least two people in the carriage would be in the wrong seats. They didn’t disappoint. One couple, after a lengthy discussion with another couple claiming ownership of the seats they were sat in, turned out to be in completely the wrong carriage. Another woman who had made herself comfortable in the window seat in the row in front of me seemed most perturbed when someone else turned up and pointed out that was his seat. She was supposed to be on the aisle. He didn’t look the sort to give up his window seat and he duly stood waiting for her to move.

Soon enough everyone seemed to be in the right seats, or at least in the wrong seats but not disturbing anyone else and we set off towards Sydney. Not long into the journey an announcement was made that the buffet car was open. The girl in the seat next to me jumped up and headed off in that direction. The speed she left her seat I figured she must have been hungry. She returned minutes later with two lagers. Ok so she was thirsty. Very thirsty it turned out as she got through them in a little over half an hour. It was barely lunchtime. A few minutes after finishing her second lager she was up again and headed back towards the buffet car. There was another announcement over the train’s PA system reminding passengers that there was “a strict two alcoholic drinks per passenger per hour policy on-board”. The girl next to me returned to her seat empty-handed, swearing under her breath. This didn’t bode well for a quiet journey back to Sydney. I put my earphones in and pretended to be asleep before she asked me to go to the bar for her. I think I had met my first proper bogan. I feigned sleep all the way to Sydney.

My last host in Australia was a guy called Matt who I had been in contact with for a couple of months. He had interviewed me for an article on SameSame after my friend Other Dale in Melbourne had emailed one of his friends who worked there and told them about my travels. The initial email from Matt had started “Dear Dean…” which had made me chuckle. Having pointed out that Dean was a 2-inch tall plastic toy policeman I explained that it would be me answering the questions for the article. Afterwards we had stayed in touch and Matt had offered me a place to stay for my final pass through Sydney, an offer I had accepted.

I made my way to his place and rang the doorbell. No answer. I tried again, still no answer. I dug out the message he had sent to double check I was in the right place. I had the right street and the right house number but my third ring on the doorbell went unanswered. Just as I was wondering what to do, a mild panic setting in, I got a message from Matt saying he was delayed but on his way home. I stood outside his place, half perched on my suitcase, trying not to look like a hooker or a homeless person. While I was waiting Dave, one half of Brian and Dave my first Sydney hosts at Christmas, walked by. It was great that even on the other side of the world from home in a city where I knew only a handful of people I could manage to bump into someone I knew. Dave’s opening line was “What are you doing loitering on the streets like a cheap hooker?”

Dave and I chatted for a while, he left and then Matt arrived home. He apologised profusely for being late. I told him that it was fine and not to worry. He explained that he had meant to be home much earlier but someone had driven into the side of his car on his way home. Matt was fine, his car a little less so. It made my journey to Sydney sat next to the bogan seem much less traumatic. We both agreed that we were in need of a drink so after sticking my suitcase out of the way, having a quick shower and change we headed out. There was a little party being thrown in my honour. It was being hosted by another guy called Matt, the editor of SameSame, up on the roof terrace of his building. An invitation had gone out a few weeks before on Facebook and I had felt compelled to issue a clarification. The invitation had me down as “the British guy doing 80 gays around the world in a year”. I pointed out that “doing” actually meant “staying with”. There was a bit of banter from some of the guys so I knew I was in for an entertaining evening. As we headed off I told Matt I would need to stop at a bottle-o to pick up some tinnies on the way over. He didn’t seem impressed that I was trying to speak the local language.

We arrived at Matt’s and made our way up to the roof terrace. Within the space of a minute I had been introduced to about a dozen people and had a large glass of wine in my hand. I apologised in advance for forgetting names, as I knew I would never be able to remember them all. There were the inevitable questions that I could now answer in my sleep – Where have you been on your trip so far? What was your favourite place? Have you slept with all of the people you have stayed with? How did you come up with the idea? Once I had answered all the questions directed at me the conversation moved on and I was able to ask a few questions of my own. It was nice to find out what people did for a living, where they had come from and where they had travelled recently. The Australians seemed impressed that I had made it to so much of their country.

A few more glasses of wine later and I felt like a part of the group rather than an outsider. The music was pumping and something by Madonna came up on the playlist. There was much talk that Madge had just announced that she would be coming to Australia in early 2013 at the end of her latest world tour, her first visit in 20 years. The assembled Australians all seemed very excited. Now, whilst I think she is an amazingly talented woman I was struggling to get so excited about the prospect of seeing her live. In one of those awkward moments where you say something quite loud just as it goes quiet I announced “I don't understand the obsession with Madonna. If I wanted to see a pensioner jumping around slightly out of time to the music and trying to dance I would go home & watch Mother playing on the Wii”. From the looks I got I was lucky not to have been thrown from the roof terrace for heresy. I managed to get through the rest of the night without saying anything else to upset my new friends, thanked them all for a fun night and headed back to Matt’s via a great Thai place for take-out food.

“My seat on the train is booked” 
Lyrics from Back to Limmeridge from the musical The Woman in White

I'm a toy balloon

I'm a toy balloon that is fated soon to pop

I'm a toy balloon

After our Saturday night out on the Canberra gay scene Sunday got off to a sedate start. Gavin had some jobs to do so Rob and I headed out for brunch. We brunched at the Pork Barrel Café, which was just next door to the restaurant where Julie Gillard had been ambushed a few weeks earlier. She had lost a shoe as she was bundled into the car by the security team but despite a good look round we had not seen any stray shoes, comfortable or otherwise. We found a nice table on the patio outside and over a very tasty brunch we chatted about mostly inconsequential things. The one thing that I took away from the conversation was that Rob has a character in Doctor Who named after him, a certain Police Sergeant Robert Lines. Knowing what they can be like with their nerdy devotion to Doctor Who I imagine that Rob is the envy of a whole bunch of gays.

Dean and Horse outside Parliament

After brunch we made our way over to Weston Park. Rob had recently joined the local LGBT choir and they were having a bit of a picnic. As we got closer to the park Rob told me to keep an eye out for some pink balloons. The park was quite large so in order to help people find the picnic spot there would be a trail of pink balloons tied to trees, fences and posts to guide people in. We soon picked up the trail but it looked like they had been up for a little while by the time we arrived. With the heat of the day and the sun they were looking a little deflated. I commented that the half deflated ones resembled slightly saggy breasts and the fully deflated ones looked like used condoms. I am not sure it was quite the look that the lesbian and gay choir were aiming for but it made the two of us chuckle. We parked up and made our way over to where the choir were assembled. I was hoping that there would be no impromptu sing-a-long, which can sometimes happen at these sorts of events. Rob introduced me to a couple of people whose names he could remember, leaving me to introduce myself to the others. We were made to feel very welcome and it seemed like a good way for making new friends if, like Rob, you had only recently moved to a new city.

That afternoon, having collected Gavin, we headed out to the Botanical Gardens for a wander around before having an ice cream and then heading up to the nearby Telstra Tower to take in the views across the city. After a trip back home to freshen up we headed out for dinner. The centre of town seemed fairly quiet, even for a Sunday evening. We ate in a little Chinese restaurant that as a tourist with no knowledge of the city you wouldn’t have spotted. The door to the restaurant immediately led to a flight of stairs down to the restaurant and it was fairly busy. Food was ordered, drinks arrived and as we waited for dinner I asked my hosts about their move over to Australia, which to me seemed like a much bigger life change than my taking a year off to go travelling. They both felt that it was a good thing for them to have done but if it hadn’t worked out or if they missed England they could just move back. They say that you regret the things you don’t do more than the things you do do and this was Rob and Gavin’s philosophy too.

That is fated soon to pop 

The National Carrilon

Monday I had the day to myself as Gavin and Rob were both at work. I got a lift into town with them and had a little route planned out to keep me busy for the day and take in the main sights of the capital. My first stop was the old parliament building which I pretty much had to myself. There was hardly anyone else in the place. After the old parliament I went to the new parliament, stopping on the way over to get a photo of Dean and Horse out front. As I was setting them up on a handy bollard a police car drove slowly past, the window wound all the way down and the driver looking at me with a slightly puzzled expression. I smiled and nodded hoping he would just carry on driving, which he did. My day was taken up with touring parliament, wandering around the National Library, going to the National Portrait Gallery (and failing to recognise the vast majority of the people in the portraits), stopping under the National Carrilon as it chimed out a version of Waltzing Matilda and heading up to the War Memorial.

It had been a very hot day to do a lot of walking so when Rob messaged me to say that he would be done work on time so we could meet up for a beer (or two) while waiting for Gavin to finish work I jumped at the chance. I met him at his office and we wandered to a bar called Tongue and Groove, which despite the name, was not a lesbian bar. The first pint barely touched the sides so I was soon back at the bar ordering a second. Gavin joined us a little while later before we headed home for a quiet night in watching an episode of Sherlock and enjoying a nice home cooked dinner. I had an early night and slept like a log. I was still feeling a little tired the next morning so I decided to have a day chilling at the house, catching up on some writing and some admin that I had been putting off for a while. I also used the time to start to firm up some of my plans for the European leg of my travels, which now didn’t seem very far away at all. Before I knew it the day had gone and Rob and Gavin were back from work. 

We decided to mark my final evening in the city by heading out for a nice meal at a restaurant called Rubicon. It had been recommended to Gavin by one of his colleagues. I had looked at the menu online earlier in the day and was very much looking forward to dinner having already pretty much made up my mind as to what I was going to have. The food lived up to the billing. I started with rabbit ravioli and followed it up with a perfectly cooked (rare) steak, wrapped in bacon served with scallops. After dinner we were handed the dessert menu. I don’t have a huge sweet tooth so it was part of the menu I had not read when I had looked earlier. On the menu opposite the desserts was the cheese selection. When I noticed that the cheeses had been split into types – soft, blue, semi-hard & hard – I got the giggles. Both Rob and Gavin sat shaking their heads in what I hoped was mock disapproval. I was still laughing when the waiter came to take our order. Thankfully Gavin put in my order for me as I was unable to do so, tears streaming down my face. It was a great end to my last night and even just thinking back to the cheese menu makes me smile.

My final morning in Canberra had come round really quickly and it was time for another round of thank you and goodbyes. I had time for a spot of brunch before Gavin dropped me off at the train station ready for me to get the train back to Sydney for my final few days in Australia.

“I'm a toy balloon that is fated soon to pop” 
Lyrics from You’re the Top from the musical Anything Goes