Intense pain

I had arrived back in Hong Kong feeling very uncomfortable.  The pain I was feeling wasn't going away.  I had gone into the hospital in Singapore for a check up, but the drugs they were giving me weren't enough.  Sitting for four hours on the flight back had clearly exacerbated my situation.  By the next day, something wasn't right at all.  Somehow, I managed to fight through the pain and I didn't accept the situation I was in until Tuesday.  By then, it was bad.  The first doctor who saw me was shocked, he sent me straight to a surgeon.  At the surgeon, one look at me and he booked me into surgery for that night.  I was in pain at this point.  Most people may have been shocked to hear such a response from a doctor, but from me it was relief.  I was happy that there was a resolution that would coming soon. 

I managed to stumble home to collect my things to go to the hospital.  It was raining.  As I waited for the taxi, a woman with a dog walked out in front of me, took a look at me waiting and then proceeded to jump to the queue and took the next cab.  Given the day I was having, it seemed like a fitting thing to happen.  I glared at her as the cab drove past and she looked down to avoid my gaze.  It had been two terrible days and this felt like the cherry on top of the horrific sundae I'd been forced to endure.

Arriving at the hospital was another relief.  The process for me to be admitted was painfully convoluted and slow.  Between the PCR tests, the forms and the payments required, it took hours to complete.  Even after I was "admitted", I was kept in a holding ward for a few hours until I was cleared of covid.  Finally, I was taken to the ward that I would be staying in to await my surgery.  My surgery was scheduled for 10pm in the evening, so I had a few hours to wait.  I lay on the bed and waited.  I wasn't allowed to eat or drink, and the last few days had been exhausting, so I just tried to rest as much as I could.  Suddenly, a nurse appeared and told me that I was being moved up in the queue and my surgery would be at 9pm.  I had to quickly change and get ready as the nurses busily readied everything for me.

I was shifted from my ward bed to a gurney to transport me to the operating theatre.  It was a strange feeling to be back on the gurney, staring at the ceiling as I was wheeled through the wards and halls.  I immediately thought back to when I had my knee reconstruction.  I remembered the same strange feeling of the the passing scene that was so unfamiliar from this new angle.  I wished I had brought my phone with me so that I could have captured the world moving from this angle, but of course there were more important things to be dealing with at this pint.  It had been a long time since I had experienced this, and I hoped that it would be a long time before I would have to face it again.  Once I was in the theatre, the whole staff were friendly.  The nurses were angels as expected, and the surgeon and anesthetist kept me talking and chatting to keep me at ease.  The needle was put into my arm and a mask brought over my face and soon I was out.  I don't remember much, I don't remember having too many dreams other than a few flashes of colour.  I do however remember waking up as I was being wheeled back to my ward.  I was very disoriented and I twice tried to get out of the gurney, insisting that I could walk back to the ward by myself.  The nurses quickly convinced me to lay back down.  Once I got back to the ward, I was able to get up myself and shift myself over to my bad.  There, I lay back and contemplated what I had just been through.

I wasn't feeling any pain.  If anything, it was the opposite.  I was feeling amazing at this point.  The general anesthetic drugs were still coursing through my veins and I was high as a kite.  I kept looking at my hands and giggling to myself.  I was fully aware of what was happening, so I thought I might as well enjoy it for as long as I could.  Even in this drug addled stage, I knew that there would be far tougher days to come after the drugs started to wear off.

The next day was horrible.  The pain was quite bad from the get go and when the bandages and dressings needed to be changed, I went through the most excruciating pain I have ever experienced.  Even the pain killers didn't seem to do much, as I suffered through the pain as the nurses tried their best to clean my surgical wound.  As I lay on my side, there was nothing to do but grit my teeth and bear it.  The pain seemed to burn with heat.  The doctor had said that most people would cry out, such was the pain, but I decided that I wouldn't and so I refused to make a sound.  After the brutal morning, the food was brought to me.  I had no appetite.  This seemed to be a good thing given how tasteless and bland the food looked and tasted. 

The next few days was just a repetition of the process. Pain, followed by bland food, followed by rest.  The bed was comfortable at the very least, and I slowly got used to it all.  The nurses would come around, ask me to say my name in full, then give me drugs.  Then the whole process would start for the would management, then I would be back in bed.

After a few days, I was ready to leave and the doctor gave me the all clear to go.  I felt weak and depleted, but I still wanted to get out.  I would see the doctor in a few days, and he would check if I was able to manage by myself or if I would need to go back to hospital to be helped.  I had no intention of going back, so I determined that I would deal with the management myself, irrespective of the pain.

Singapore Stopover

We arrived in Singapore early in the evening.  I'm generally against day flights for long haul flights, it seems like a bit of waste of a day.  Going the overnight flight seems to be the most optimal use of travel time given you'll be sleeping anyway.  We arrived early evening in Singapore, with the three hour time difference, it was very late in Australia and we were feeling a bit tired.  We were hungry though and I didn't want to waste any opportunities to get some food in Singapore.  We had booked a stay in Tanjong Pagar and so we were only a short walk to Maxwell Food Centre.  I missed living in Singapore, and I missed nothing more than the food in Singapore.  The blend of cultures in Singapore is an incredible thing, possibly one of the greatest achievements of Singapore as a country.  The food culture that has developed as a result of the blend is probably one of the greatest benefits they have reaped from this.

We spent the next few days visiting friends and eating.  The last few years of no travel had deprived me of the Singaporean food fix that I craved and I was keen to rectify this as much as possible.  We went around to different stalls, getting chicken rice, char kway teow, prawn mee, all the favourites I had missed.  Everything was always washed down with a strong kopi or a fresh lime juice.

With Chinese New Year approaching, we also got to walk around the night markets that had been set up in readiness for the festivities.  I had fond memories of Chinese New Year in Singapore.  The food was of course always great, but there were the extra special Nonya desserts and snacks which started to pop up around this time that I loved.  The little biscuits and the pineapple tarts would appear on tables around everyone's homes and it was just a happy time to be in Singapore.  

We also made sure to spend some time around some places to get some of our old favourites.  For me, I've always loved the simple Singaporean breakfast of kaya toast, poached eggs and a kopi.  It is a simple combination of foods, but the intensity of the flavours matches the tropical surroundings.  I feel the heat of Singapore as I sit there and the taste of the food and drink seems to cut through it all.  Veronica on the other hand wanted one thing and one thing only, and that was her beloved bak chor mee.  Twice she found herself at the famous bak chor mee stall near Lavendar station.  One of the first ever small hawkers in the world to be awarded a Michelin star, the flavours are intense with the vinegar sauce, and the noodles are cooked to give a perfect balance of bite that still yields.

As we were walking around Singapore, I found myself walking along the underpass that went from Orchard Station all the way to Ngee Ann City.  I must have walked along here dozens of times over the years.  One thing caught my eye as I was walking, it was the "Famous Amos" store!  This store had been here since I was a kid.  It must have been here for well over 20 or 25 years at this point.  Everything else around it had changed and shifted, yet somehow this store had remained strong and consistent throughout all this time.  There was a nice feeling of consistency and nostalgia to see it still here, and so I bought a bag of cookies to munch on back in the hotel.

On the day we were to leave, I wasn't feeling great.  I had been trying to tough it out of the last couple of days, but Veronica convinced me to go to the hospital before the flight.  There the doctor gave me drugs and painkillers to try and deal with the issue quickly.  I felt a bit relieved, but I still wasn't feeling very comfortable when I got on the plane back to Hong Kong.

Manly

I rarely went to Manly when I lived in Sydney.

Living in Coogee, there never seemed to be much reason to go North of the harbour.  I had everything I needed in my self contained suburb, so the idea of spending over an hour and a half each way to go up to Manly seemed unnecessary.  The few times I was in Manly was for a specific event or because there was a particular reason.  Otherwise, I was perfectly happy to stay in the South.  On this trip, there was more reason to make this treacherous journey North of the Bridge.  One of the best things to do when visiting Sydney is to spend some time on the ferries in the harbour.  Riding on the ferries give some brilliant views of the whole city, as well as the Opera House and Bridge.  Going further out into the Harbour, you also get the impressive view of the Sydney Heads which guarded the entry into the Harbour from the Pacific Ocean.  Since we had the time, I thought a ride out to Manly would give us the best views we were looking for.  We jumped on one of the fast ferries, and after only half an hour we were at Manly.  When you arrive at Manly, there are some small beaches next to the ferry terminal.  I remembered years ago that my old housemates had made a trip out to Manly and complained that the beach there was "so small".  I was confused by that, until I realised that it was this small beach next to the ferry terminal which they thought was the "famous" Manly beach.  Thankfully, I knew that this was not the big beach.  We went for a short walk through the Corso and were soon standing on Manly's long beach.

The beach at Manly really is incredibly long.  It doesn't have the same size and scale as Bondi, but it stretches out to be an even longer beach.  It was a very full day down at the beach.  I had been quite surprised this summer by the newfound love of the cabanas.  Being sun smart had always been an important part of Australian culture since I was a kid, but the next step had clearly now been taken.  It had been a strange sight to see, the Australian beaches covered with the cabanas instead of the beach towels.  It was probably a good thing all things considered. 

We went for a swim, though with the tide out, we had a wade quite far out before the water started to rise up enough for us to enjoy the wave jumping.  The waves were rough and inconsistent.  I wanted to go a little bit further out, but I was worried about Veronica who was still a novice at dealing with the Australian surf.  We decided to head back in and found a nice cafe for coffees and some very late breakfast food.  Eating my bircher muesli full of fruit felt nourishing and satisfying.  Everything just tasted so fresh and I was already starting to dread the thought of going back to Hong Kong, with everything shipped in.  After this relaxing time, we decided to head back to the city.  We took the slower ferry this time.  We switched back and forth between the front and the back, looking out towards the Heads and into the city itself.  The sky was blue and the views were uninterrupted.

It had been a nice day out in Manly.  I enjoyed the trip, but I remembered again why I used to never visit.  It was such a long distance to travel.  I thought about friends like Jon who used to live out in Manly and who would do the daily commute into the city.  These long commutes were something I didn't miss about Sydney.

Reunion tour

Being back in Sydney was lovely.  The weather was good and the air smelled fresh and sweet.  Walking around the city with Veronica had been a great trip back to my past life in this city. It was nice to see how Sydney looked, but at the same time I only lived in the city itself for a brief time.  There had also been quite a lot of changes to the city centre which made it less like the Sydney I remembered.  The removal of traffic down the middle of George Street was a positive change, but it wasn't the memory of Sydney I had in my mind.  In any event, most of my time had been spent out in Coogee and along the coast.  I wanted to show Veronica a glimpse of the life I once had so I thought a mini reunion tour of my old home was in order.

We woke up mid morning and took the tram towards Coogee.  Taking the tram out towards Coogee was already a strange enough feeling.  I left Sydney around the time when the construction started and so I missed all of the pain suffered by residents.  The tram itself seemed to take a good route, but it was slow.  It took us past Royal Randwick racecourse where we would go for some days out, past UNSW where I did my masters and then past Prince of Wales Hospital where I once ended up.  It was already a nice little tour down memory lane and I pointed out each to Veronica.  She gave me a wry smile each time, as it really wasn't that interesting.  Once we arrived at Randwick junction, we started to walk towards Coogee.  The first stop on the tour I had planned was the Spot.  I spent countless hours lounging around the Spot, usually at my favourite cafe Kurtosh.  We sat down outside at my "usual" table and ordered some coffees and cakes.  Looking out at the familiar view, this felt more like home.

After this break we continued to walk towards the beach.  I took us down the side street rather than down Coogee Bay Road.  This took us directly past my old apartment.  I looked up and pointed at the top floor to Veronica, to this place that I spent so many formative years of my life.  My old housemates were now all gone from Sydney, so there was no link left with the apartment.  It was strange to think that I had now been gone from the apartment as long as I had lived in it.  I had some amazing memories from that time there, there were tough points and disappointments in life then, but living in this locations was always a positive point in life.

We kept walking and we were soon at Coogee beach.  This truly did impress Veronica.  To be only 400m from such an amazing beach was something most dream of and it was the life I used to live daily.  I thought back to the summer days living in Sydney, waking up early for a swim before work and the constant feeling of salt in my hair.  It was very appealing thinking back about it and I started to think about whether returning to Sydney was something I wanted or not.

I took Veronica into the water.  She still didn't like the cold, but she was more willing to jump in now to enjoy the waves.  The Coogee shore break dumped like it always did and Veronica was soon covered in sand.  We stayed in the water for a while before I decided to move us on.  I had been prepping Veronica for a bit of a walk.  Since had the time and we were here, I thought there was no better time than now for us to do the Coogee to Bondi walk.  This walk consistently gets rated at the top tourist attraction and activity to do when visiting Sydney.  It's something that even when I was a local I used to do frequently and it was always worthwhile.  We rounded the Northern parts of Coogee, and I took Veronica out to some of the secret spots I knew to look at the view.  We went down towards Gordon's Bay and decided against a swim there.  We kept walking until we reached my favourite part of the entire Sydney coastline, Clovelly.  After all the recent travel in Europe, I did feel that this really was the most "European" of all the beaches and swimming spots in Sydney.  It was very crowded and I thought back to Capri.  Everyone laid out on the hot concrete and baked.  I jumped into the water and floated for a bit.  The moment I jumped in, I realised I had forgotten to bring any goggles.  It would have been nice to go searching for the blue gropers, but that would have to wait for next trip.

We took a short rest here.  Up at Sea Salt we lounged around with some food and drinks.  I ordered a strawberry milkshake, the last thing I ordered when I was leaving Sydney and hanging out in Clovelly.  It was a taste of childhood, but Veronica was unimpressed by what she thought was milkshake that wasn't thick enough.

We kept on walking.

Each part of the coastline gives spectacular views up and down the coast.  It was hot, but we were lucky to have a strong cool breeze giving us some relief.  We kept stopping frequently as there were views to be seen at most spots.  We got to Waverly Cemetary and I explained to Veronica how we used to have to walk through the cemetary before they built the walkway on the edge of the cliff.  The walkway was a great addition to this walk, but I'll always still remember the strange sights you would see of bikini clad girls wandering through the cemetary.  It was always a strange contrast to see.

After passing by Tamarama and Bronte, we finally reached our final location of Bondi.

I never liked Bondi much when I lived in Coogee, it was always too busy and full of tourists for my liking.  Being here now with Veronica, I could appreciate it from a different perspective.  It was easy to forget just how enormous it is as a beach.  We arrived just as the last heat of the day was fading and so there were already less people on the beach, but it was still full of more than enough people enjoying themselves.  As we walked around, I heard the familiar sounds of a multitude of foreign languages.  Bondi always did attract the travelers from around the world and whilst it created a crowded tourist scene, it also did make for a great mix of cultures and peoples.

We didn't feel like a swim, it was getting a bit cooler now and we were hungry.  Tacos seemed like the best idea here at Bondi and so we walked up to the Northern side of the beach.  There was sat at the window of a restaurant, eating our tacos and drinking our micheladas as we watched the sun slowly setting, throwing a golden orange hue over the beach.  It had been a tiring, but very worthwhile day in Sydney.