Big city village living

After a day yesterday spent 'down south' with Carol and her 'senior friend' the copilot and I have decided to sample the attractions closer to home and so we decided to potter along the high street here in Fairlight. And I have to say it's lovely. We have a butcher, couple of shops cares and a bottle shop as well as a vet and a doctors all within a gentle stroke of our front door.

And so we have spent a liesurly breakfast in the cafe watching the world go by listening to the chatter between the comers and goers who are all jolly and frindly and seem to know each other.


I got me to thinking and the last place I experienced this sort of easy civility and friendly banter and chatter was visiting my Grandad in the little village where my patently grew up.

And so it hit me, while Sydney (and indeed the rest of Australia) might seem frustrating to a Dubaite used to 24hr city with late night shopping and everything being all in one place, it is probably the tendancy to stick with local shops and walking around your community rather than big out of town shopping centres and strangers for neighbours that keep the village feel of Sydney. I believe Sydney has been in the top ten nices city to live on since leagutables have existed and deservedly so, and it has to be because you are living in a village not a city.....which is cheating really.




And so we are off to the bike shop now to buy the Co-pilot a bike so she can explore more....and yes, the local bike shop!!

WE HAVE WHEELS!!!

The co-pilot and I went down to Nowra yesterday and payed for the car and drove it away and she's as fantastic as we remembered!!




The co-pilot said she would have laid across the bonnet in a swim suit but her bump would het in the way so a pout standing next to will have to do.


Mmmm is that a no parking sign we have stopped under.....oh well, I doesn't apply to me habbibi

Only thing left to do (apart from winch, cargo rack, boot draws, radio....) is to think of a name for her. After all, the distinct lack of yellowness procludes a YBOD reference. Suggestions on a post card please.

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Training Day

Well after my previous rants about trying to get ANYTHING done in the various halls of power and officialdom we embarked once again on a focused and concerted effort to get stuff sorted. We had a hit list of Medicare registration, visa label in passport, driving licence and bank draft to pay for our new car. And based on prevoius success I resigned myself to a day of frustration and running around and therefore booked a day off work, set the alarm early and off we went!!

Well we were up bright and early and down theferry terminal in time for the 8am ferry which got us to the CBD at 8:30 just in time for Medicare to open and our assault to commence. However, I expected to be writting you a long rantingpost about stupidity, idiots and blind vogonism but no, somebody up there must have heard my prevoius potestations because lady fate was smiling.

We arrived at Medicare, straight up to a counter were a jolly if sleepy lady sorted everything out for us without feeling the need to dream up a new bit of paper we needed (although we did have half a rain forest with us at the time). We then went to RTA, took a ticket and filled put the form only to be told that we had to be in Australia 6months before we could get a NSW drivers licence (not quite sure why it's a min of 6 months and not a maximum but there you go) so that was RTA ticked off. So finally immigration. Arrived, joined queue of one person, spoke to a very friendly lady and five minutes later we were walking all sorted.

So it was that at 11 o'clock the co-pilot and I were stood outside a coffee shop (which smelt of coffee and soap there couldn't be entered) wonder what to do with the rest of the day. Following a short phone call to the garage we are suppose to be going to tomorrow confirmed the car was available and so quick bought train tickets and are now sat on our way to Nowra to pick up the beast!!



And a final rant, this one about trains. Wake up UK and British Rail (or whichever fractured part of what used to be BR is in control of prices and tickets). Having decided to go to Nowra which is 3 hours away by training was able to walk into the ticket hall, pay my money and get on the train. And I didn't have to book a month in advance....on line.....with a credit card. Nor did I need a degree in logistics planning in order to work out which daisy chain of routes and companies I had to join up to make the journey possible. I simply walked up and said "two singles to Nowra please" and he replied "certainly mate, $31 and you want platform 15".

And yes you read that correct, $31!! For Two tickets for a 168km train journey. That's about 15 quid for you pommes back home!!!

And I wonder why I might not be too keen on rush 'home' to the UK.

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Sunset over Manly Ferry

Got back to Manly late last night after sticking around the CBD until later to meet up with the co-pilot and go and try to watch Avitar in 3D at the IMAX (failed to get tickets because somebody had hired the entire place out for a party (that's some party, what ever happened to happy meals all round?).

Anyway, got the ferry homa and was treated to the sight of the sun setting and lovely clouds rolling over the harbour.


We never got anything as nice as that in Dubai.

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An Engineer just can't resist

Following the stuck in traffic post a certain engineer of the maritime persuasion (who shall remain nameless to Dave him the shame) couldn't resist wanting to know more, specifically wanting to know about the twin propellers. Well here you go Mr Bailey:


I guess you could say this ferry is the chinook of the maritime world.

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Stuck in traffic

Well I guess no commute to or from work can ever be completely traffic free, no matter where you live. And so it was that on the journey home this evening we got stuck behind a slow moving middle lane hog!!


While sat there I got looking at the ships plans on the wall and it would appear that the ferry I travel on each day is symetrical, with a propeller at both ends and both ends pointy.



Now this got me thinking....if both ends are the same which is the bow and which the stern.....and which way does one look to deferentiate between port and starboard? My god, how does the captain maintain proper naval decorem on the bridge!!! And if such things are out of control what will become of the standards and rules that have governed the waves and the empire for generations??!!

I shall have to write to the lord admiralty to inform him and hope he has the strength of characture and sense of duty to do the right thing...yes I mean the ultimate sanction.....send out the navy to give one up 'em!!! Cos they don't like it up 'em sir!!

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Aussie smart casual

Another quick post, of a sight I saw this morning which has to be a uniquely Australian interpretation of smart casual:

This fella was walking in front of me from the ferry to the CBD. The fella had a good quality smart looking shirt, cuff links and flip flops (thongs) and shorts (stubbies)!!



Sorry about to poor picture quality, I was walking in a crowd at the time.


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