Living the Dream

Saturday 24th February

Four days into our new flat and here we are living the dream. This morning we headed off to Paddington Market, which runs every Saturday. We bought some artwork from a photographer Called Daniel Jones here in 2002 and I was hoping he would remember the piece of work so that we could tell him it was happily resident in the UK, but there was no sign of him. The work is called “Aurora Euc” and is a montage of doubly-exposed photographs that he shot of a Eucalyptus tree on Wollongong plain. He created the effect by spinning the camera as he took the photo. It’s all very eye-catching and clever. We were disappointed he’d moved on.

The market seemed smaller than we remembered, but then things often do when you return to them. I do wonder whether it’s a mistake to return to places you have fond memories of. I could still picture Daniel Jones with his frayed straw hat and piercing blue eyes. In my mind, he had been standing in the same corner of Paddington Market where we had left him years ago and now I know he isn’t, my perception of the place has been altered.

In the afternoon, Ella broke her duck and slept for an hour and a half. I lay on the sofa hardly daring to move. This place is like a wretched African dictatorship with a small girl rigging the elections so she can stay in power.

Later in the afternoon we were joined in the pool by Niamh and her parents, Seamus (the Dubliner) and Sally (an actual Aussie) as well as Seamus’ rock star cousin Aidan. I now know his Christian name yet I’m still none the wiser which band he’s in. They hung about for an impromptu barbie on our balcony, which is the local way of doing things. In Australia, everyone brings something to the Barbie, but as they occur frequently and without much notice, people’s contributions can be a little bizarre. Tonight, Sally had already started cooking some roast veggies when we suggested lighting up the bbq, so Seamus simply nipped home and returned with the tray of veggies straight from the oven along with Sally’s half-eaten birthday cake, so a great, if odd, feast was had by all.

Ella and Niamh enjoyed the occasion, covering themselves in tomato ketchup and chocolate cake before dancing around the flat. We joined them in Ella’s bedroom at one point, only to discover a lizard running hell for leather under Ella’s cot. “Don’t worry, it’s only a skink” said Sally. “It won’t hurt you, but if you pick it up, don’t grab it by the tail, because the tail will just fall off so it can get away”. When Sally picked it up, it did just that. What I wasn’t prepared for was the sight of the lizard’s tail still wriggling, right there in the middle of my little girl’s bedroom floor. I still have some work to do on my feelings towards the continent’s critters. I can live with stories of Possums landing on people’s heads but I don’t like things with scales or eight legs.

We threw the kids into the bath together at the end of the night. “God, I feel I’ve known you all my life” said Sally. She’s easy company. Looks like we’ve all made new friends. God knows I need someone to phone when the lizards get in.