Sitting on bus, panting slightly but rather overly proud of self for making it to last bus home with seconds to spare.
Amazing evening at the Hordern Pavilion watching bloc party (from England, as they were keen to emphasise). Took me back to being young, with unachey feet and enough sense not to bring a huge handbag to a gig. Ah, those were the days! A particularly awesome friend had scored me a free ticket. It was amazeballs, as the kids say these days...
The post-gig euphoria carried over to the trip home. The initial sprint for the bus back to the city was livened up by some hideous body art (who gets Corky the cat tattooed on their bicep???) and prime viewing of a guy getting a cavity search at Taylor sq while his female friend stood by and laughed. clearly the best kind of friend.
Jumping off at Elizabeth St with 5 minutes to spare I passed two Asian twenty somethings trying desperately to keep each other upright. Eventually giving up, they crawled into the nearest doorway, which happened to be a karaoke bar. Yes, that will help...
The last thing before I spotted the bus and started a headlong sprint (which naturally proved unnecessary, as things always do when you put that much effort in to them!), was two girls watching entranced as a fountain boasting a statue of a dog talked to them and then woofed goodbye. Which I think you will agree is a completely natural occurrence and definitely not some random hallucination.
In other block news, its the final week of my current fave Aussie programme, appropriately named 'the block'. Think grand designs slash changing rooms on a longer time frame. Its amazing and utterly addictive. Harri got to visit the set (or rather, the building site) the other day, and scored a signed cap which I was incredibly jealous of. Lesson of the week: if you are having a argument with an Australian, its best to emphasise this by calling your opponent 'mate' at every opportunity.
The bus journey is considerably improved by it being my favourite driver at the wheel. He's driven me to work every day for the last two weeks and a nice repartee has struck up. He is fantastic with the customers, knows the names of all the school kids travelling solo and checks on their sporting progress etc (this week we are disappointed that Carly didn't make the netball team). I was overjoyed the other day to see him presented with a box of chocolates by a man who proclaimed that it was the 10 year anniversary of him being his driver. It was genuinely touching yet utterly bewildering to a londoner. Ah Australia, you continue to surprise me
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