Lesson number one when in a new Country is to always look around and see what the locals are up to. Now, me being me I can preach a good story but I can seldom abide by one. In any case, this morning I was busy tidying up the apartment I am in over here in Manly Sydney when I happened to get chance to look out through the main window, it confirmed what I was already thinking and that was how quiet everything was, look I know it was a Sunday morning but hey this was almost "Ghost Town" like.
So, me being an alien in Oz i decided it would be a great idea to head for the town centre and maybe read the Sunday rag at a table with a nice caramel latte for companionship, you know the stuff of advertising executives dreams, guy sitting there waving at all the locals and ordering his favourite brand etc etc.
So with that thought firmly in my mind, i grabbed my trainers a pair of black jeans and me being English my "Weathertite" lightweight coat. I was so cocky i even whistled "Easy like a Sunday Morning" by the Commodores while i walked with a lively spring in my step towards the ubiquitous cafe with table outside, oh did i mention the newspaper seller on hand with his cart and the catching ability of Ian Botham for the 2 dollars i throw his way as payment as i keep walking?, oh perhaps later then, anyway I digress, there I was walking along with not a care in the world, not a soul about, no-one under my feet just a chilled guy on a mission to fulfil his wishes of a coffee while reading his favourite paper while watching the world go by..
Except.. this is Sydney, well Manly, but its close. It had also escaped my attention that today was the second day of winter.
What transpired was as bloody as any massacre known to man, a slap in the face of such mammoth proportions as to be unimaginable, a desecration of the holiest of grounds, the leveling of entire cities and all its inhabitants dry frozen and shrink wrapped for later consumption by aliens from Jupiter. OK, so maybe i am laying it on a little thick here, but the reality is it rained. I know, its no big deal but this wasn't just a summer squall. This was rain like we Brits don't get to see, this was like Zeus getting really pissed with how the Thames was looking so deciding to do a little re-routing, via the Atlantic. It rained so hard I couldn't see my hand in front of me at one point, visibility was OK but the rain drops were hitting my eyes so hard I couldn't see where i was going, I found out in less than 5 minutes walk from my apartment why there was no-one on the streets, they knew.. they all knew. I also knew they were laughing, I didn't see anyone I just knew it, in their cars, at their windows, in the hotels, that smug laugh, the "hahahaha there is always one" type of laugh and today it was aimed at me. I deserved it. In seconds i was drenched and by the time i got to my cafe the table and chair had floated into the Pacific just behind the paper boy and he hadn't even had chance to catch my 2 dollars let alone wave a cheery wave for the camera, my image of a "cool" Sunday morning was forever shattered behind the hotel windows and the steering wheels of locals all queueing up in the dry to get their paper from the local newsagent as i cowered under a shop pelmet on the front frozen and waiting for the 4 hour storm to blow over.
So, for tomorrow I shall be glancing out of the window and watching intently as to the local attire, if it is shorts and t shirt I will be joining them but if it is quiet and no-one is moving I shall grab "The Times" crossword and sit smugly as i lay in wait for the next Englishman in Sydney who hasn't kept an eye on the locals and their attire to pass by.....
So, me being an alien in Oz i decided it would be a great idea to head for the town centre and maybe read the Sunday rag at a table with a nice caramel latte for companionship, you know the stuff of advertising executives dreams, guy sitting there waving at all the locals and ordering his favourite brand etc etc.
So with that thought firmly in my mind, i grabbed my trainers a pair of black jeans and me being English my "Weathertite" lightweight coat. I was so cocky i even whistled "Easy like a Sunday Morning" by the Commodores while i walked with a lively spring in my step towards the ubiquitous cafe with table outside, oh did i mention the newspaper seller on hand with his cart and the catching ability of Ian Botham for the 2 dollars i throw his way as payment as i keep walking?, oh perhaps later then, anyway I digress, there I was walking along with not a care in the world, not a soul about, no-one under my feet just a chilled guy on a mission to fulfil his wishes of a coffee while reading his favourite paper while watching the world go by..
Except.. this is Sydney, well Manly, but its close. It had also escaped my attention that today was the second day of winter.
What transpired was as bloody as any massacre known to man, a slap in the face of such mammoth proportions as to be unimaginable, a desecration of the holiest of grounds, the leveling of entire cities and all its inhabitants dry frozen and shrink wrapped for later consumption by aliens from Jupiter. OK, so maybe i am laying it on a little thick here, but the reality is it rained. I know, its no big deal but this wasn't just a summer squall. This was rain like we Brits don't get to see, this was like Zeus getting really pissed with how the Thames was looking so deciding to do a little re-routing, via the Atlantic. It rained so hard I couldn't see my hand in front of me at one point, visibility was OK but the rain drops were hitting my eyes so hard I couldn't see where i was going, I found out in less than 5 minutes walk from my apartment why there was no-one on the streets, they knew.. they all knew. I also knew they were laughing, I didn't see anyone I just knew it, in their cars, at their windows, in the hotels, that smug laugh, the "hahahaha there is always one" type of laugh and today it was aimed at me. I deserved it. In seconds i was drenched and by the time i got to my cafe the table and chair had floated into the Pacific just behind the paper boy and he hadn't even had chance to catch my 2 dollars let alone wave a cheery wave for the camera, my image of a "cool" Sunday morning was forever shattered behind the hotel windows and the steering wheels of locals all queueing up in the dry to get their paper from the local newsagent as i cowered under a shop pelmet on the front frozen and waiting for the 4 hour storm to blow over.
So, for tomorrow I shall be glancing out of the window and watching intently as to the local attire, if it is shorts and t shirt I will be joining them but if it is quiet and no-one is moving I shall grab "The Times" crossword and sit smugly as i lay in wait for the next Englishman in Sydney who hasn't kept an eye on the locals and their attire to pass by.....
No comments:
Post a Comment