Darling Harbour

I went out alone last night. I realised recently how seldom I go out at night. It was only when we put the clocks back that I noticed that the car's dashboard lights up orange.

I took a taxi downtown. I still find this journey exciting, especially the bit where you disappear past Hyde Park and into the heart of the city and its high-rise buildings. I wonder whether I'll ever get over it. The driver was Indonesian. "You know there 240 million people in Indonesia" he said. "40 million in Jakarta. The problem with Sydney, they no build roads. The government take my tax and build Lane Cove Tunnel, they make tunnel three lanes. When they build harbour bridge they make four lanes north, four lanes south. Why not Lane Cove tunnel? This rich country, they have money for more lanes. Where my money go? Bloody corrupt in politics".

I wasn't going to mention that the money for building the harbour bridge was loaned from Great Britain (and took fifty years to repay), but I couldn't resist it, so I did. It all went a bit quiet.

The taxi dropped me at Darling harbour, where I met up with Nic, who's a speechie I worked with in my previous life. She emigrated to Sydney in October and she's living in Balmain, much to my envy. She also has a double income and no kids so admits she "can't be arsed to cook" and eats out every night. You think I'm having a good time - this lady has it made.

We had a meal at Thaifoon, which is on the opposite side of Darling Harbour to the aquarium. The view is pretty incredible, as you can see. Nic's enjoying Sydney, especially as her hobby is diving, though she's finding the health service even more depressing than the one in the UK. "I think I'm going to set up privately" she said. "I can earn three times what I'm earning in the public". We discussed the problem of making friends. "The thing is" she said, "I want to invite people round, but I feel like rent-a-friend. I don't want to look desperate". I suppose it just takes time, but the company of friends is still the thing I miss most.

Or is it my washing machine? I can't decide.