Fancy New Year

The days in Newcastle went quickly.  I didn't feel like we had done much, but the time past quickly in the comfortable settings and with the relaxed lifestyle.  After a week, our visit had come to an end and it was time for us to go.  I could have happily stayed in Newcastle for longer, but that wouldn't be right for Veronica.  Being in Australia for the first time with Veronica, I wanted us to experience a bit more during our stay.  So we said our goodbyes to my family and headed back to Sydney.

In Sydney, I had planned for us something special.  New Year's Eve in Sydney is always a big event.  Over the years, I had gone to many parties and spent many nights out in the public parks with friends to watch the fireworks.  However, I had never been to any of the prime locations to watch the fireworks.  The prices had always been astronomical and it hadn't been something I had considered.  On this trip, I had different plans.  If only once, I wanted to go to watch the fireworks from one of the best spots.  Looking online, there weren't many places with any availability left.  I picked one of the few spots with anything left and with a knot in my stomach, paid the exorbitant price.  Early in the evening on New Year's Eve, we set out towards the Royal Botanic Gardens.  Our section of seating didn't open until 6pm, so we thought we would start making our way over at about 5:30pm.  In hindsight, this was a bit too late.  When we arrived, we found ourselves confronted with a long line of people that would take almost 45 minutes.

Once we successfully navigated the line, we rushed with the others to try and find a spot.  The best spots had all been taken, but we were still able to get a good spot at the very front.  We would be here for the next 6 hours, so we threw down our blankets and settled in for some relaxation as we waited.  We were curious about whether such a long time would become a bit of a drag or tedious.  It seemed to be a long time to just be waiting around on the grass, so we came prepared with extra battery banks for our phones, books and magazines.  I lay back and settled into the next few hours of reading.  It was crowded and were surrounded by people, but it was still a relaxing time.

As the sun set and the skies darkened, the colours and lights of the harbour awakened.  Ships full of partygoers circled the harbour, completely covered in bright lights themselves and they sounded their horns to the delight of everyone on shore.  The sedate and relaxed mood of the early evening changed, and there was a vibrancy which had taken over.  Down closer to the habour, the party at Opera Bar was kicking off and people were screaming along with the bands entertaining the party.

At nine o'clock, the first set of fireworks started.

These were the "children's fireworks" which happened every year.  They were timed to allow the families with the younger children to see some fireworks without having to stay the full evening.  It was a good idea.  Everyone's heads craned up as the sky lit up and we were given this short appetiser to the bigger even that was come at midnight.  After this short show, I looked around and no one moved.  I'm sure there were some who would leave after this display, but given the prices paid for our area, it seemed that everyone here would be staying until the final show.

The next three hours flew by.  It was too dark to read now, so we just lay back and chatted as we drank our wine.  Surrounded by the buzz of activity around us seemed to give us all the energy we needed.  Occasionally, one of us would wander off to the bathroom or to get more snacks, but nothing much happened.  It was a good way for us to rest and relax.  The last few weeks had been a bit hectic with the travel and with the family reunion, so I enjoyed spending this time with Veronica.  Soon, the noise started to increase.  People were staying to scream and shout as midnight started to approach.  The lights on the bridge changed and soon numbers appeared to commence the countdown.  At midnight, there was an enormous cheer and the sky glowed with fireworks.  A waterfall of flames streamed from the bridge, one of the signature sights done every year.  The Sydney new year fireworks always go for a long time, this year was no different.  The sky was filled with fireworks for nearly fifteen minutes.  I had seen the show before, but this was special.  To be directly in front and to have the view of the Sydney Harbour Bridge was an experience I would remember.

With the fireworks finished, everyone began the slow procession out of the Botanic Gardens and back into the city.  The streets were crowded with people and it was a surreal sight to see the thousands of people filling the normally quiet evening streets.

Was it all worth it?  It's hard to say.  The price for the night was steep.  Yet the experience was certainly something special.  Even after seeing the Sydney fireworks several times, this was still without a doubt the most impressive and enjoyable of all the experiences.

Being home

It was relaxing and refreshing being back in Newcastle.  I didn't want to do too much.  The simple tasks of life and living were what I wanted to experience.  It was what I wanted to show to Veronica whilst she was here.  We went about life as I had hoped.  We visited the local restaurants.  I took her to the markets and shops.  Something as simple as the wonderful produce in Australia, I wanted her to be able to see and experience all of that.

At home, we enjoyed and embraced the simple delights.  The fruit was fresh and sweet.  The dairy was rich and thick.  My parents had bought six enormous mangoes for Veronica.  When she first saw them, her eyes widened with delight and surprise at their sheer size.  She lifted up the platter that sat on and breathed deep, with their fragrant smell filling the kitchen.  Outside, we walked in the nature reserves and out around the neighbourhood.  The familiar sounds of the birds made me think of childhood, but they were all new and novel to Veronica.  My parents went outside to the balcony daily to feed some of the visitors they had.  After some encouragement, Veronica also happily joined in to feed these cheeky new friends.

Most importantly, whenever there was any spare time, I took Veronica to the beaches and the water.  My best memories of life in Sydney and Newcastle were always near the water.  This was what I remembered the most and I wanted to show this lifestyle to Veronica.  I had described it to her, but my words weren't enough.  You had to experience it, the power of the waves, the strong cool winds blowing across the water.  There was nothing like it back in the enclosed islands and harbours of Hong Kong.

Taking Veronica into the water was also a hilarious, but fun experience for us.  She was only used to swimming in the warm waters of the tropics and was shocked by the cold.  It was warm outside, but the waters of the Southern Pacific still held there bite for a few more months.  The shock of jumping into the water was invigorating for me, but it took a bit of coaxing to get Veronica to join.  Eventually, after a lot of convincing, she joined me and the rest of the swimmers in the water.  She had never gone wave jumping before and delighted in this new activity, though not without some first time difficulties.  After one particularly big wave, I turned to check on her and saw two upturned feet as she was swept back towards the beach.

We kept enjoying this lifestyle for days.  Sitting in the cafes seemed to be particularly enjoyable.  It was something so part of the day to day life that I didn't think I would miss so much.  There are now more and more cafes in Hong Kong and the coffee culture is growing, but there aren't too many places in the world where I can so happily sit with a coffee looking out towards such a soothing view.

On our last night in Newcastle, I took everyone out for dinner.  Some of the restaurants I had wanted us to go to were closed over the Christmas period, but there was one new restaurant which was still open during this period.  We drove into the centre of the city.  Unlike most cities in the world, parking is never an issue in Newcastle.  Even if you park "further" away, you're never more than a five minute walk away from your destination.  

It was an odd feeling to be sitting in a fine dining restaurant overlooking the harbour in Newcastle.  The city has changed a lot from when my family first moved there.  I still remember the first time I visited after my parents moved there.  It was a sleepy little town and very much a bit behind in terms of development.  To now be sitting in such an upmarket and fancy restaurant made me think about how far this place had now come.  Much of the downtown had been redeveloped and many of the rougher edges were being polished out.  Closer to the water and the harbour, it was all becoming quite nice.   I could never have imagined that my parents would end up staying so long or that it would become my defacto home in Australia.  For a place I have never actually lived, there was a strange sense of home to being in Newcastle.

Heading Home

It had been more than three years since I had been back to Australia.  The coronavirus restrictions in place in both Hong Kong and Australia had made travel difficult.  Hong Kong was particularly annoying.  The rest of the world had made the decision to open and move on with life, yet Hong Kong and China were reluctantly holding onto restrictions.  However things were now moving in the right direction.  Hong Kong had dropped almost all the restrictions, most importantly the travel restrictions.  Now was the perfect time for me to finally go home.  There was another important reason to go to Australia as well.  It was time for me to introduce Veronica to my parents, and she was extra excited because she had never been to Australia before.  I started looking into flights for us a few months ago.  The direct flights from Hong Kong to Sydney were outrageously price.  Outrageous to a level that I decided I wouldn't fathom paying such prices.  After a few hours of playing around with different combinations, I worked out that if we flew first to Singapore, we could actually fly from Singapore to Sydney return on premium economy, and the total price of the trip would still be the same as if we had gone direct between Hong Kong and Sydney.  This also included the added bonus of a short stay in Singapore on the return leg of the journey.

We flew out late morning and reached Singapore mid afternoon.  We had a few hours so we caught up with some of Veronica's friends for a quick bite and a catch up.  It had been the first time I had been to Singapore since the pandemic and in that time, the beautiful new "Jewel" had opened.  It's an impressive new building at the airport, but ultimately it's still just another shopping mall.  It did make it easier to catch up with people though and so we were able to wait until the last moment before going back into the terminal and boarding our next flight.  The flight was uneventful.  I slept well and woke up just before landing.  As I heard the in flight music of "I Still Call Australia Home" playing, I started to feel a bit emotional. Looking out the window, I could see the familiar sights of Sydney in the distance.  After getting off the plane and taking the overpriced train into the city, we were in Sydney.  It was extremely early and we still had some time before our next train to Newcastle so we found a cafe and waited.

It was just Central Station, but even sitting here and drinking a coffee with Veronica felt amazing.  The air smelt clean and fresh.  There was a light hint of eucalyptus smell.  I just felt refreshed being there.  It was like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders finally being here.  After the brief rest, we boarded the train for Newcastle.  I was feeling to happy to rest, but Veronica was soon asleep.  The train from Sydney to Newcastle is painfully slow, but it's a picturesque trip.  Up around the Hawksbury River in particular, the slow ambling of the train gives all passengers a lovely view of the scenery.  For this trip, it was fine, but I still remembered how annoying it was being on these trains as they crawled towards Newcastle and back. 

After more than two hours, we finally reached our stop new Newcastle.  My parents were waiting for us at the platform.  I hadn't seen them in more than three years and they looked older.  There were happy embraces and my parents looked truly delighted to meet Veronica.  We quickly loaded up the car and headed back home.

As Veronica took some time to freshen up, I stood and looked out towards Mount Sugarloaf from the balcony, I once again felt a strong sense of relaxation.  The fresh air, the sunlight and the peaceful surroundings were the tonic that I had needed.  It felt as though the annoyance of the past few years was finally coming to an end. 

World Class Squash

My obsession with squash has taken off over the last few years.  It's been annoying trying to improve and progress during this time as every few steps forward have been curtailed by new restrictions of shut downs that have halted me in my tracks.  By the time things have opened up again, it has felt as though I have had to relearn what was forgotten.  Things were now changing though.  Hong Kong was feeling better and it felt like everything was finally on the right track now.  The restrictions were falling away quickly and large events were coming back to Hong Kong.  One of those big events returning was the Hong Kong Open, arguably one of the world's premiere squash tournaments.  

I had never watched professional squash in person before.  My squash obsession had led me to start following and watching it online, but this would be very different.  As I entered the darkened hall, I was immediately impressed by the speed and sound.  As much as I loved playing, I had never seen this level of play before.  Even watching the very top players in the tournaments I had been to didn't compare to this.  It wasn't really a surprise that the professionals were a step above everyone else, but it was quite amazing to see and hear it in person.

We had chosen to go for the quarter finals.  This was a good day to go since it meant there were eight games in total and each was at a high level.  The stadium itself wasn't too full either, so we were able to move around to get a view of the play at different angles.  

The last match for the day was Paul Coll against the newly minted Englishman Marwan ElShorbagy.  Watching them both play was a pleasure.  The combination and variation of shots, the speed and the skills were all on full display.  What was most striking though was the precision.  The ability for both players to just hit the line so perfectly time and time again.  It was an impressive display.

Yayoi

There was a big new exhibition for Yayoi Kusama being held at M+.  With our memberships, Veronica and I were able to get discounted tickets to attend.  It was a nice feeling walking through the crowded halls of the exhibition.  The coronavirus restrictions had been largely rolled back and so there was an increasing feeling of a return to normality.  Everyone was still masked up, but it was nice to be amongst the crowds again.

The Antony Gormley exhibition was finished which I felt was a bit of a shame.  The near endless sea of little figures looking up at you was quite a dramatic and moving exhibition, but it was also good to see new and famous exhibitions slowly cycling through Hong Kong.  I had been to some Kusama exhibitions in the past in other cities and I was always impressed by the scale of what was put together.  She has always had an eye for scale and some of her more interactive pieces were always quite fun.

I was a bit surprised by this exhibition.  The previous Yayoi exhibitions I had been too had focused almost exclusively on the large installations and the pumpkins.  These were her signature pieces, but there was little else on display.  This exhibition however was far more expansive and tracked her entire career over 70 years.  It was an impressive collection of works to have all in one place and showed how she had developed over the years.  There was only one pumpkin to be found in the entire exhibition, with far more focus being placed on some of the more edgy ideas she worked with when she was young.  One thing that was surprising was her young obsession with sex and phallic objects.  

Seeing piece after piece, covered in phallic objects was not what I had been expecting.  Kusama has become so heavily embraced by the mainstream media with its focus on her polkadots and pumpkins, that I (like many others) had grown to only know her on that basis.  It meant that my entire image of her was a very clean cut and child friendly version, which it seemed was a very far cry from the reality of who she was and what drove her earlier artistic endeavours.

Downstairs in the basement area, we joined a long line to see one of her big installation works.  It was a large mirror room full of her trademark polkadots.  This was more of what I remembered.  After a long wait in the queue, it was our turn.  We were only given 20 seconds inside the mirrored room, but in that short amount of time we were able to embrace the reality warping experience of the infinity mirrors. 

It was a surprising exhibition, it didn't deliver the usual expected "Kusama" pieces that most people have come to embrace.  Yet this was probably more unique and insightful than any of her other exhibitions I had been to in the past.  This look back through her long catalogue of work was a far better explanation of who she was as an artist than the other exhibitions which had provided only a narrow range of her work as an artist.

Tate and the Thames

It was my last day in London.  I didn't think I had anything left to do, but it turns out that some final farewell activities had been arranged for us.  I had arranged a catch up with my friend Sarah in London so it would have to be an early morning breakfast.  I dragged myself out of bed and headed towards the Tube.  The depth of the London Tube stations is always impressive.  Heading down the escalator on this early Saturday morning, it was close to empty.  As I slowly walked down the escalator, I could hear my steps echoing in the tunnel.

Sarah had made a booking for us at Millie's Lounge at the Ned.  Being right next to Bank station, this was apparently a restaurant commonly frequented by the banking and finance staff in the area.  I walked into the large Ned hotel and made may way over to Millie's Lounge.  Sitting inside the grand foyer, it was an impressive place to be having a quick and simple lunch with friends.  It had been years since I had seen Sarah, I think the last time may have been when I stayed with her in Bondi.  This was a long way from her apartment overlooking the water.  The prices were high, but understandable given the location.  Looking at the menu, we were all suddenly overcome by a strange desire for some simpler and more comforting foods.  Eggs and soldiers were ordered, and I decided to go with the porridge.  With the cooler weather, it all seemed to make sense.

I wanted to stay longer, but I needed to go to the work event.  Sarah and Tom were kind enough to walk me over.  Once we got to the Millennium Walk bridge, we said our goodbyes and they went on their way.  I started my walk over.  It was raining a little bit, and the bridge became slippery.  I was late, but found myself trying to rush whilst not falling on this bridge.  I remembered the first time I crossed this bridge when I first visited the UK.  The bridge seemed to then represent everything amazing about the UK and its ability to integrate the new with the old.  Now, it just seemed to be a public hazard.

I arrived at the Tate Modern a bit late.  Everyone was already inside.  There was a special exhibition for Paul Cezanne and tickets had been arranged for all of us to attend.  Given all the work which had been done, I needed to attend just as a simple thanks and out of respect for the organisers.  There was also the fact that this was the Tate Modern.  Years had past, but it was still my favourite landmark in all of London.  Walking through the main turbine hall, I still felt a bit of the excitement I felt when I first arrived as a backpacker.  It seemed busier now.  There were more people around and there seemed to be more of a sensory overload with the way in which everything was set up.  Maybe it was just me and the way I had changed.

I went straight upstairs to the Cezanne exhibition.

Walking through the enormous crowds of people, it was a strange to see the sheer number of paintings that were from his period in the Cote d'Azur.  I laughed a bit to myself.  To be standing here, looking at these impressions of the place I had just been.  It seemed a bit strange to be confronted with this, almost like it had been an intentional event created to conclude my trip.

I enjoyed the exhibition, but it was the rest of the Tate Modern that I really wanted to visit.  The turbine hall and the adjacent rooms are as impressive as they always have been.  Walking through, I felt a sense of insignificance at the sheer scale of it all.  When I moved to Hong Kong, it was spaces like this that I had longed for.  Things in Hong Kong are improving in this area now with the opening of galleries such as M+, but this would still be the original for me.  It would always be the Tate Modern that opened my eyes and mind to this world that I loved so much.

After our time at the Tate Modern, we were brought to another private dining location.  We got lost on the way several times as we walked until we realised that the location was actually inside the security section of a modern looking office building.  There were people downstairs waiting for us.  We were taken upstairs to a room with a balcony overlooking the Thames river.

It was getting a bit much now.  There had been a lot of work, but at the same time the constant kindness shown to us was also excessive.  There didn't need to be so much of it and I felt like it wasn't necessary.  Still, it was important to be grateful for everything we received, and so with another glass of champagne in hand, I looked out towards London and decided to enjoy myself one last time.

With lunch finishing, everyone slowly started to depart.  There were planes that needed to be caught and everyone was flying off to all ends of the earth at different times.  I jumped into a cab with some of the Italians that were flying around the same time as me.  We laughed and chatted on the cab and train ride to the station.  Before long we were there and I said my goodbyes as I got myself ready for the long flight back to Hong Kong.

Upmarket London

I arrived late afternoon at Gatwick Airport.  I think it had been close to fifteen years since I had been here and I found the enormous bridge connecting the two terminals to be a very strange and unexpected sight.  My frequent trips to the UK had ended after I left the law firm.  I had always expected that I would be going back and forth to the UK far more, but that combination of employment change and the coronavirus had stopped all of that.  It seemed like the world had been thrown completely upside down since those days.  There wasn't much in the way of any plans which had survived, even being here in the UK was a bit of a surprise to me.

I was here for work, but I had a day before everything started so I went to see my brother.  I had been years since we had caught up.  In fact, we hadn't seen each other since he had gotten married back in Australia.  Since I had last visited him, he had moved twice.  He was still in West London, so we were able to walk around some of the old places I remembered around Bayswater near his old place.  His new place around Hammersmith Grove was a lovely example of the English terrace houses that make up most of the inner city of London.  The weather was chilly and we walked everywhere with our heads down as the wind and light rain lashed at our faces.  It felt like real UK weather.

After my short stay with my brother, I moved on to very different surroundings.  Work had me staying in a boutique hotel in Mayfair close to the office.  It was small, but extremely luxurious.  The staff took my bags and immediately led me to my room.  I sat inside for a little while and thought about where I was.  It was a far cry from the backpackers I used to stay in.  We were right next to the good end of Hyde Park.  I stepped outside the hotel and had a look up and down the small street of the hotel.  Everything just exuded wealth and money.  

The evening of the event, we were all invited to the Royal Automobile Club for dinner.  It was a suit and tie affair.  I had brought with me a collection of ties to wear for the event.  As I tied my tie, I realised it had been years since I had worn one.  There has been a major change in men's work fashion in the last ten years and ties seem to be slowly leaving the realm of "necessary" for office attire and very much into the optional basket.  Inside the club, we were confronted by more grandeur.  It was all classically beautiful.

We were taken to a private dining room for our dinner.  Champagne and canapes were served as we all stood and talked.  As I stood waiting, my good friend Corinne appeared.  By a strange change a fate, we had ended up working in the same organisation.  This strange serendipity has been elevated by the good fortune we had of being all together here in London for this event.  Dinner was fine, but nothing could compare to the surroundings.  Before I left, I walked into the main dining room of the club and looked up at the ceilings.  It was all awe inspiring.

The next few days went by quickly.  The work events took up most of my time and I had little time for contemplating anything else.  I arrived back at the hotel at a reasonable hour most nights and tried to sleep.  I was still trying to provide cover for the Asian business hours, so I found myself waking in the early hours to answer emails and respond to questions.  It started to take a bit of a toll and by the end of the trip, I was starting to feel tired.  On the very last night, a dinner was arranged for us.  We had a private dining event set up for us on the Thames river.  Once again, we all felt fortunate for the opportunity to enjoy such glamourous and beautiful surrounds.  

I stood by the water with a glass of champagne in hand looking out towards the water and the city.  I thought about my first trips to the city and also about whether I had any regrets about never living in London.  I think I did have some regrets.  My life hadn't played out exactly as I had planned or expected.  Living in the UK and in Europe had always factored in very highly on the list of things I wanted to do, but that probably wasn't so likely now.  A combination of personal and global factors had made those options less ideal for me.  Still, standing here now I felt that I was getting some of the good parts of what that life could have been like.

 

Another visit

Since I was in the region, I wanted to go see Adam and the kids.  It had only been a few months since I had visited them, but I still wanted to go and visit them.  I missed them a lot and with Maya gone, I thought about them constantly.  I had time.  It was all just a short flight away after all.  So after visiting the beautiful Ilkley, I decided to make my way to the South of France.  The travel was a little bit convoluted, but still acceptable all things considered.  I woke up early and caught a train from Ilkley to Leeds.  Once I arrived at Leeds, it should have been a short train ride to Manchester.  Sadly, the train was cancelled and I was jammed with dozens of others onto a later train.  It was one of the most overcrowded trains I have ever been on.  People seemed to take it in their stride as they joked and laughed about the situation we were all in.  After a painful and uncomfortable trip, we arrived in Manchester.  There I switched to a different train for the short trip to the airport.  Once I was at the airport, I thought that all things would be easy, but once again I was very mistaken.  I was confronted at Manchester Airport by the busiest and poorly managed security control I have ever experienced.  I couldn't quite understand why it was such a mess.  There seemed to be enough check points and there also seemed to be plenty of staff working, but for whatever reason, it was a wait of close to an hour just to clear this mess of a security check.  Once I was on the plane, I fell asleep.  It hadn't been a long distance traveled, but there was something about all the hiccups which had just drained me.  When I woke, we were close to landing.  I looked outside my window and immediately felt warmer.  Once we disembarked, I immediately put my jacket into my bag and walked out into the warmth of the Cote D'Azur. 

The kids were at school and so Adam picked me up from the airport.  We were both all smiles to be able to see each other.  It was a strange but pleasant feeling to be able to just "pop in" to visit.  This was now my fourth visit to the region, a fact which seemed very strange to me.  As we drove back to his home, I also realised that I knew the area quite well.  I didn't have the same sense of novelty from visiting somewhere new, but instead I looked at the streets with a feeling of familiarity.  We had a stop to make on the way back home to pick up Emil from school.  Adam stood in front of the door to the school as I hid to the side.  As Emil ran out, Adam pointed back towards me.  A big smile crept across Emil's face as he saw me and he came and gave me a big hug.  We headed back home to try to surprise Sofia.  When the car pulled in, she ran to the windows and saw me sitting in the car.  Once again, being able to surprise these kids made the trip worth it.

There wasn't too much to do for the next few days.  I had no need to do any tourist visits.  Instead we spent our time with the day to day activities of life.  We looked after the kids, helped them with their homework and got them ready for school.  For Adam and myself, we then just whiled away the time with chores, sitting in cafes and time in restaurants.  It was all extremely pleasant and a nice slice of the life in this picturesque part of the world.  For myself, it was a welcome period of rest and relaxation.  All of the activities with Adam and the kids were an absolute pleasure and only made the time I had more enjoyable.  One day when we were in Nice, we sat down outside at the restaurant Du Gesu.  With the kids at school, we were able to linger and just talk and enjoy the moment.  The weather was good.  The heat of summer was gone, but it was still ideal to sit outside.  The Nicoise classics were brought to our table and we slowly ate and drank our fill.  I thought back to when Phil, Todd, Tanya and Veronica had been with us.  That had been at the peak of the tourist season and we weren't even able to get a table here.  Now it was much calmer and more conducive for us to talk.

I wasn't without my tasks to complete whilst I was here.  Since Veronica hadn't been able to make her trip, I had been slowly gathering presents for her and the family.  Being in Nice, I immediately thought of Auer and their delicious candied fruits.  After lunch, Adam and I went over to the store to browse.  It is a classically designed store that looks like a throwback to another century.  They take great care to make their candied fruits using only the best fruits and their products show this quality and attention to detail.  Veronica's family have always had high standards when it comes to food, but even this surpassed all their expectations.  The candied chestnuts were a particular favourite of Veronica's father, so when I bought a box, I bought a few extra for Adam and myself to enjoy with our coffee the next day.

Adam had an appointment one day in Cannes.  Rather than just sit around and wait for him, I went for a walk around the town.  It felt much more like it did the first time I visited.  The big crowds were gone, but it was again still pleasant.  I found a small store selling tinned fish that Veronica's family and I liked and bought a few tins.  With the small chores I had planned now all complete, there was nothing left but to walk around until Adam was finished.

I thought back to all the times I had now been to Cannes.  I had gone from a wide eyed and young traveler seeking adventure to someone with more obligations and responsibilities.  I had clearly changed and developed, but I still looked up and around at my surroundings with a level of happiness.  It was beautiful, and I was lucky to be here.  The reasons for me being here had changed so much, but I was still thankful for it. 

I headed back home with Adam.  There we picked up the kids again and enjoyed the remaining time I had with them.  I would see them again, but when and where that would be was still to be determined.

Windy Moors

The lightening tour of the English North was continuing and I was now in Ilkley.  I didn't have the same time afforded to me as when I was a young backpacker, but I now thankfully had the means with which to take more efficient and fast transport.  It would still have been nice to have had longer, but it was at least one less impediment to visiting friends in far flung places.

This was an opportunity I had wanted for a long time. I had never been outside of London in all my years traveling to the UK, so being able to visit Charlie in his home was the perfect chance to change all of this.  The game in Sheffield had been fun, and the aftermath of it all had probably been even more fun.  We had made our way further North to Charlie and Sian's home in Ilkley where we had a lovely dinner together and then I passed out from a combination of exhaustion and jetlag.

I woke very early the next morning.  The sun hadn't risen yet and there was a mist hanging over the ground.  Charlie clearly heard me rousing and he woke as well and suggested we go up to the local ridge to watch the sun rise.  Jumping in his car, we drove up towards the ridge in the chill of the morning air.  We reached the ridge in no time at all and were soon walking around the moors of Yorkshire.

It was exceptionally beautiful.  As the sun slowly rose, it bathed the entire landscape in a bright golden glow.  The wind was blowing hard and I could feel it cutting through my jacket, but I was enjoying myself.  I wasn't sure if I was annoying Charlie, but since I was standing on a windy moor, I incessantly hummed and sang Kate Bush's song "Wuthering Heights".  It seemed to be the most apt song for the occasion.

We kept walking along the ridge, slowly climbing up to the top of the "cow" which gave us truly incredible view.  We could see all the way across the valley towards the other ridge.  We could even see Charlie's house from this spot.  The air was fresh and clean.  I missed this.  Living in Hong Kong is fun, but one thing that isn't fun is the lack of fresh air.  There's a constantly haze in the air and it never seems to be as fresh as it could be.  Here, I could feel my lungs clearing.

We slowly started to walk down and we met some local friends who were also enjoying the morning.  I was too slow with my camera, but we were also lucky enough to see a grouse as it flew around us.  It landed a few times, but each time I tried to capture the image it immediately flew off at speed.  It seemed to be teasing us.  

Back in Ilkley, Sian had woken up.  The bite of the morning cold was gone and it looked like it would be a nice day.  We changed into nicer clothes and made our way into the beautiful town centre.  The town is a lovely example of a historic old English spa town.  The buildings were grand and the streets all neatly laid out.  We walked around the markets and fairs that were open.  The shops in the town all felt like what you would expect from such a quaint little town as well, full of delicate baked goods and small handmade goods and crafts.  I bought some soaps for Veronica as well as some biscuits.  It seemed to be a good representation of the region.  As it approached lunch, we started walking to the restaurant.  We had a booking for a Sunday roast dinner which I was very excited about.  Being in England on a cold day, nothing felt more appropriate than a nice roast. 

Lunch was delicious as I had hoped.  The idea of a roast dinner seems quite simple, but ever since I was a child it was something I enjoyed.  My parents seemed to develop a fondness for it as well, and it soon became a regular meal in our home.  Here we were in far fancier surroundings and the roast was accompanied by delicately made sides and a bottle of Argentinian red.  

After a very filling lunch and more drinks afterwards, we made our way back to the house.  It was already dark by the time we arrived, with winter approaching fast.  We sat in the living room drinking tea and talking.  We were too full from lunch to think about a substantial dinner and so I went and got the "fat rascal" that I had bought earlier in the day to tide me over before sleep.  It had been a very English day.

Football fights

I was very happy to see my old friend Charlie.  We had both arrived in Hong Kong around the same time as one another, but he had sadly left to go back to the UK a couple of years ago.  With the time I had before the start of my work engagements, I thought it was the perfect time to go and visit him up North.  He was excited, but then suddenly concerned about whether we could actually arrange it.  He had already arranged to go to a football game with his old friends in Sheffield the same day that I arrived.  Would it be possible for us to actually catch up?  What would I do about my bags?  We thought about it and I started researching.  After a bit of thought, I told him to book my ticket.  I worked out that I could drop my bags at a nearby hotel.  Arriving in Sheffield, I immediately caught a cab to the hotel, dropped off my bags and within half an hour, I was happily in the pub with Charlie and his friends drinking a beer.  It felt strange to be in this very foreign place with someone I knew so well.  I had the lovely feeling of the unknown that I enjoyed so much when I visited somewhere new, yet it was all still something familiar given my upbringing in the Anglo-Saxon world.  I was behind the others who had been drinking for hours, but the game was about to start.  We finished off our beers and we made our way with the crowds towards the famous Bramall Lane.  This was a proper old fashioned English football stadium.  Even the lead up and walk to the stadium was an experience.  I was with Charlie and his friends, supporting Blackpool.  But the local team today was Sheffield United.  The different pubs in the area had all been assigned to the different teams, and there was no mixing allowed.  As the crowds congregated towards the stadium, so did the police presence.  It was all a positive feeling in the air so far, but there was clearly a concern and worry that things could take a more nasty turn at any point.

Once inside the stadium and seated, there was no more drinking.  There is apparently a rule in the UK that there is a no drinking if you are within "sight" of the pitch.  It created a strange situation of people crowding at the bars in the concourse of the stadium, but with large sections of ground marked at as not being permitted for drinking given they offered a glimpse of the pitch.  I stood with my friends and watched the game.  Being part of an English football crowd is an experience that all should have.  With the singing and cheering, it captures you and drags you along.  The game itself was also one to be remembered.  The home team quickly went up 2-0, yet somehow Blackpool managed to pull back to 2-2 by half time.  We went to get drinks and managed to get back to our seats after half time just as Blackpool pulled ahead to 3-2.  It was around now that mayhem started to breakout.  Blackpool managed to get two players sent off.  For the rest of the half, they battled 9 men against 11 as Sheffield launched wave after wave of attack.  Close to the end of regular time, a penalty was awarded to Sheffield.  This was surely the equaliser, and yet I stood and watched from behind the goal as the Sheffield player struck poorly and hit the post.  At this point, all that was left was for the referee to blow the whistle and still this didn't happen.  Eight minutes of extra time were declared, a truly unbelievable amount of time.  Blackpool continued to hold on, but in the very final minute, their hearts were broken as Sheffield managed to get the equaliser they had been searching for.  It felt unfair and didn't seem to reflect the task that Blackpool had achieved.  But that's the nature of sports.

At this point, I thought that the game was finally done.  I was very wrong, as the players decided on the pitch that they were very unhappy with what happened.  The Sheffield goalkeeper tried to start a fight with a Blackpool player and both were shown red cards.  It had now been four red cards in this game.  The players were quickly separated before things escalated further and sent in different directions.  This seemed to drive up the anger in the crowd.  The screaming and insults were being thrown between the fans and when we left the stadium, it seemed that fights were breaking out around the ground.  One of Charlie's friends was separated from us, and we later found him after some Sheffield fans had tried to attack him.  There's fun and passion, but then there's also too far.  This Europeans love of football definitely goes touch too far. It is a strange regression to the primal that belies any reputation of Europe's supposed cultural progress and superiority.

With everyone back together again, we headed towards the train station.  None of the group was from Sheffield, so everyone was jumping on different trains to head home.  Inside the station was a beautiful old Victorian pub.  For those living in the UK, this was nothing out of the ordinary.  For me, the sight of these historic old pubs was always fascinating.  They seemed to maintain a community for those in the area as well as providing a warm place for people like us to shelter and drink before our trains.

Soon enough, it was time for us to go.  We said our goodbyes and we boarded our train for Leeds.

Transit

Arriving at Heathrow, there was an odd and familiar smell.  It was a combination of damp, mildew and "old".  It reminded me of the old hospitals that my dad used to work in when I was just a kid.  Walking off the plane and towards passport control, I was happy to see my passport included amongst the list of those that could go in the faster lane.

It was very nice to be back in the UK.  It had been five years since I had visited.  It had become a regular trip with my old job, but global pandemics and my own change in situation had conspired to change all of that.  As I walked through the airport, it was good to feel the cool air again.  I didn't have much time though.  I wasn't staying in London at this point, so I needed to get to train station.

After a quick ride on the Heathrow Express and an annoying struggle through the Underground with its maze of halls and lack of escalators, I arrived at St Pancras station.  I had only been here a few times before.  It was a beautiful station that captured the very best of British imperialism with more modern flourishes.  One thing that still annoyed me were the pianos which had been placed everywhere.  I remember when I first saw them being placed around public places in Europe.  It seemed like a great idea to encourage more music and public interaction.  These days, it just seems to encourage either terrible or attention hungry piano players to loudly bang on the keys.

Getting from Heathrow to St Pancras had been faster than I expected.  I sat in the concourse and waited.  I had my ticket booked to head North.  This was going to be another new experience.  With some time before I needed to start work, I wanted to go visit Charlie.  It had been two years, almost to the day since he had left Hong Kong and it was now time for a reunion.  Eventually I was able to board the train.  Within a short time, we were out of London and speeding up into the middle of the UK.

As we passed the various stations on the way North, I saw names familiar to me only because of my youthful interest in English football.  These names had been associated with what seemed to be distant and imposing places, so it was a strange feeling to find myself in some very small and suburban little towns.  Their global fame and influence, inflated far beyond what they could actually offer as a result of a global obsession with football.

Between each of the stations, the English countryside opened up.  It was beautiful.  It was a deep green, with only the hint of the coming winter starting to be felt.  When people talked about the English countryside, this was the image that seemed to be in mind.  I was surprised by how quickly it all appeared too.  Within such a short distance outside of London and the other smaller towns the train passed through, it seemed to immediately jump to this farmed countryside.

The distances were short.  I was still too much an Australian.  Any travel in Australia, in any direction always involves hours and hours of travel.  Even thinking back to Sydney, if I drove from Coogee for an hour, I would probably still have only reached the outer suburbs of Sydney.  Here, once you were out, you were out.  The towns became a distant memory and there were fields as far as the eye could see.