Saturday, 8 August 2015

Why Europe sucks today.

Just because I'm sitting here. Sipping on my iced latte. Finally in an air-conditioned building. Omg, these people should really discover air-con. About fucking time. It's like 35+ on the outside, with no relief in forecastable future, and nothing is air-conned. Nothing!

Not the shops, public transport, homes etc. it's time to get with the program. 

Anyway. A friend from afar took pity on me and directed me here. A huge shopping centre of all the glitz money can buy. And air con. 

And it occurs to me. 

How easily we take things for granted. Stupid things like air-con. Important things like your other half. 

I'm on the other side of the world bumming around Europe, while I wait for my ... well, let's just call it a date with my destiny. And I miss him so much! 

Yes. I concede, I want to murder him at least half of the time we are together. The other half may only entail plans for dismemberment. But I do love him 100% of the time. And would not trade him for any knight in shining armour, Fabio or even Peter Dinklage. (Those close to me will get this). He may be an idiot some of the time, but he is my idiot. I chose him with open eyes. 

Europe, without my family here, you suck! 

Tuesday, 9 October 2012

Cabin fever ... Day one

It's only 10:30pm, but it feels much later, despite our very recent switch to daylight savings time zone. Peanut is fast asleep. His basinnette at close proximity to me, and the only interruption to the noisy silence are his sporadic little sighs and whimpers. He must be dreaming. I hope they are good dreams. He's too little for anything else.

Yes, i did say noisy silence. No other words will do it justice. Through the thin walls of my cabin I can detect the constant roar of the ocean, frequent thumping of kangaroos and above all, raindrops on the prefabricated roof. Once in a while the cabin groans and creaks, and my mind paints a rather vivid image of a nocturnal creature leaping out of a nearby tree onto our roof, attaching it's self to the walls. Despite all this, the silence is almost deafening. My ears are not used to it and they ring in protest.

I've braved outside since nightfall, mostly to take a couple of calls without disturbing Peanut's slumber. There doesn't seem to be much out there. In the bleak light of our outdoor lamp a few gum trees stare back at me. Their gray trunks contrast the black beyond. The gray branches seem to reach into the darkness as if they were never ending, reaching into infinity. At this point in time I'm inclined to believe maybe they are. Behind them, the vast darkness punctured by a snap of a twig or rustle of dry leaves. I wish for the reassuring glimpse of my trusty old car parked nearby, but alas, it's parked some 300km away, in my driveway. Hurriedly I wrap up my conversations and go back to the pseudo safety of my cabin.

Overall the setting is perfect for "I know what you did last summer" type of adventure. Promptly I thank my lucky stars, or my good judgment, that I've refused numerous offers to watch it. Knowing me, I'd spend every minute of tonight replaying the plot in my mind, making sure I kill off any chance for a well deserved shut eye.

So how did I get here? Why am I in the middle of the proverbial nowhere without wheels, other than on my baby's pram? And most of all, how are we going to get back on the road to our original destination - the mighty city of Sydney. I recap the events of the day in my mind. So much has happened since we left home, barely 12 hours ago for our first road trip as a family. What else is awaiting us on the road ahead?

So many paths ahead of me. So many questions swirling around in my head. Choices. Decisions. And as I close my eyes and start drifting, I hear a soul piercing screech just outside my window. Are what follows sounds of something eating? My last thought goes unanswered. Hypnos welcomes me with open arms and I fall into them willingly.