It’s Saturday night and I have a rug on my knees. I don’t know exactly what happened to summer which appeared briefly earlier today, but winter isn’t quite over yet. As such, I’ve just woken up from a terrific afternoon nap. Since waking up I’ve been listening to a fantastic new CD which I picked up earlier today.
The last week has been reasonably busy with work-related activity.
The only other social engagement was the launch of Perth’s annual Pride Festival on Thursday night at the West Australian Museum. The launch was quite good except for two things: the bar service was too slow and the speeches were too long and too similar to each other. That said, the festival looks reasonably interesting and it’s bound to keep me off the streets – or perhaps on them – for the next couple of weeks.
Speaking of streets. I don’t know why but at the moment, the centre of Perth is one big construction site. In addition to the highly controversial railway project, there is a large number of major buildings under development. Although the Swan River colony was established in 1829, Perth is a relatively new city, and many of the locals have told me that the 1983 America’s Cup win really “made” Perth and Fremantle in particular. That said, although Fremantle has some wonderful well-preserved old buildings, the same can’t be said for Perth. It wouldn’t surprise me if most of the buildings in the CBD had been built in the last twenty years. Or maybe I have it all wrong?
The next few weeks will be reasonably interesting with Sue, Colin and Damien all paying a visit to Perth. I have also applied for a job in Sydney – a promotion – and have been told to keep September 23 and 23 free for a trip home for an interview, though it hasn’t been confirmed yet. The only plan I have at this stage, aside from hopefully getting a fabulous new job, is dinner with Damien on Sunday night. Damien arrives here at the end of October and, after he spends a few days at Margaret River, we’re heading up to Broome.
Actually, I am a little homesick at the moment and I’m not sure if it’s been enhanced or worsened by listening to a CD called, Bondi Calling 2. compiled by Andy Glitre who I first remember hearing on Triple J in the late 1980s. In my Perth bedroom with a blanket over my knees, I am transported momentarily to Bondi RSL on a warm Sunday afternoon or to the Opera Bar at Sydney Opera House in the midst of summer. Yes. This CD is Sydney! In the same way that “Sunny” takes me to the warm, great-feeling Sydney of summer, another track, “Just” by Aya Larkin transports me to that other Sydney that people don’t wish to acknowledge exists, the artsy, intelligent reflective Sydney that you find at pubs in Newtown or acoustic nights as “The Basement”. On a weekend in which I’m feeling a little homesick for Sydney, I can’t decide if listening to this CD is such a good idea.