The Last Four Weeks

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Well...

After that, I was barely home one minute, then I was off again (actually, I was home a tad under twenty-four hours: in Saturday night, out again Sunday Afternoon).

This time I was heading up the North Coast, to Grand old Taree. I have a love-hate relationship with Taree. I love the hospital, I love working there, I love the people, I love how you can be totally out-of-your-depth, yet not so much that you can't rise to the challenge. But I hate that it is three hours from home (two-forty if you're in a hurry, or it's later at night), and that they roll up the footpaths on five pm, and nothing is open except restaurants.

That said, I'd agreed to work there for three weeks: working 8-5, Monday to Friday. Ah, yes, the good old Monday to Friday. Except, of course, for those funny things called Public Holidays. Of which there were a few, as I recall, in April. Like Easter. All up I worked thirteen days, playing in their ED, and fretting every minute I wasn't busy. Just in case people are getting the idea that I have forgotten that I had promised tales of overseas travels. Organising Visas (well, in the end, 1 Visa), organising accommodation, organising all those little things that are necessary for travel. But at this end of it, it seems to all be in place.

I went to the Royal Easter Show (sorry, no photos), to the Polo at Windsor (Chili V Australia, we won, but we maybe shouldn't've. I think it was only that Chile was on borrowed horses). I also spent some quality time at Blueys with my folks, and with my Aunt Katherine and Uncle Geoff, and their (unnaturally) blue Budgie, Charlie. And this last week I went down to Melbourne. I apologise to all those people in Melbourne that I did not catch up with, but as those that I did catch up with will attest, I was very strapped for time.

Yesterday, I picked up my passport, wandered around Sydney (bought my Birkenstocks), went to the Art Gallery of NSW (There is a painting there, on the back wall of the first room of Australian Paintings, that I will swear black and blue is of Elizabeth and Shelley Beaches, around the corner from Blueys), sat on the waterfront at Circular Quay and talked to a random German girl from Cologne about the hazards of long-term travel. She had been in Australia for eight months, had worked in Sydney for seven weeks, and in Winton (of all places!) for seven weeks also. I think she was a little lonely (watch me be this person in a month), we talked for about an hour. I then made my way to Newtown, and was introduced to Brita and Pete's new flat (very nicely kitted out, love their new lounge), and their new neighbourhood. I was accosted by Socialist Alternative on my way out of Newtown Train Station, and, God Forbid, was almost homesick for university life again! We had African at a restaurant they had never been to before, it was lovely, and Brita had her first red meat in ages (Goat).
I got home today, and have been catching up my blogs, and doing stuff, like making up a detailed itinerary for my mum, so she knows where I'm meant to be. In reality, while there's all these things I'd like to see, I have a few things pinned (like my Ukraine visa only runs from 27 June to 27 July), and everything else... well, I'll be somewhere in the vicinity of where I said I'll be.

My next post, I'll give you the vicinities, until then, I'll leave you with random photos I have taken over the years (well, ok over one year, given that's how long I've owned my Digital camera), of Blueys.

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