Heading ‘home’ on the ferry.
Well, here I am, a little more than a year into my new job. It’s in Sydney and I have been here before. In fact, the last time I lived here it was working in the worst job, for the worst company in the World. That’s a massive exaggeration, of course, but it wasn’t a great time in my life and in the first weeks, when I found myself in familiar shops, bars and buildings, I was surprisingly affected by it. One ‘own goal’ was moving back into the same apartment I had lived in before and this could have been a mistake, but my old landlady was glad to see me, ejecting a small but allegedly noisy family from the apartment in my favour and so I slipped back into the easy nature of living in her granny flat.
I haven’t posted for a long time for a number of reasons but it wasn’t all that life is dull after Ukraine (although it probably is, a bit) because straight away I started doing some very interesting work and I realised that I had actually missed risk and security consulting. I’m not travelling nearly as much as I used to and that’s good as I was falling apart with all the time on planes.
Sydney has proven to be a lot better this time round and working in the older part of the city has meant that there are plenty of choices for lunch or beer after work. it also means that every few days, I get to take the ferry across the harbour home. As you can see from the picture above, the view is a thing that I try never to take for granted.
Stepping aside from Sydney for a moment, I have been out to New Zealand a couple of times and I love it there. I was in a very local region, which I’m not going to name, but the people were really nice yet very suspicious of what my colleagues and I were doing there. The truth was that we were there to clarify a serious issue for the whole community – suspected theft from the major business in the area. I’d been in that kind of situation before where everyone is worried about their jobs and what we might say to jeopardise them. You try to keep a low profile, but of course in a small town, strangers stand out like the proverbial dogs balls. One night, whilst out looking for dinner, I had briefly walked into the local laundrette to check out how much it would cost to wash some clothes and the next day, back at their office, we were asked how our dinner at the pub was and if I managed to get my laundry done?
Thankfully, after numerous interviews and some careful study of the numbers, we discovered that the mismatch in figures were in fact ‘errors in processing’ and not a result of skullduggery so the client was just as happy as we were. If things had been different, we might have said our piece and have been leaving the town quietly and in the hours of darkness. A job well done then.
I managed to get back home for Christmas which was a welcome break, but it was hot and there were bad bush fires in the countryside not too far from the house, but thankfully, not that close. Back in Sydney, the Christmas binge had taken its toll on my waistline (as well as my bank balance) and I’m now paying the price. The best part of paying that price is my evening jalk (a jog but mostly a walk) back from work. That means over the bridge and though the exclusive suburbs along the harbourside. The price of the real estate there is crazy of course and I can’t ever see my self living up here full time, in fact I’m pretty much counting down the days until I can get back home full time again.
I did however take up a new hobby; paddle boarding. As I mentioned, I rent a small apartment in very nice area of Sydney and one of the interesting things about being surrounded by very rich people in extremely expensive houses is ‘hard rubbish day’ There is a very Australian hobby of cruising round expensive neighbourhoods in the early hours before the council collection and looking at what they are throwing out a couple of times a year. I had heard stories of some fantastic ‘scores’ from people wandering by the big houses and finding large and relatively valuable pieces of furniture or unwanted expensive electronics.
First thing one breezy weekend morning I was walking over to the supermarket to buy a packet of bacon and some eggs for breakfast when I came across a small block of relatively new apartments. There was a large pile of shelving units, clothing racks and other household items dumped outside and partially covered by an upturned sofa was a surfboard bag. I should say at the outset that I have always wanted to be good at surfing, or at least not quite so shite as I am, but thats life. My balance isn’t bad as I can snow ski pretty well, but since having my hips swapped out, on a surfboard my centre of gravity seems to have changed to something like a large wind catching weight balanced around 3 feet above my head so I almost didn’t pick it up, but then I noticed that the bag was much larger than a normal surfboard. Perhaps it was a paddle board?
Paddle boards, when compared to surfboards are much wider and longer and therefore in the right hands, much more stable. My hands are not the right ones, but I felt that it might make a welcome gift for Mrs Jerry, who is pretty good on a board. Glancing around guiltily like a shoplifter, I hefted the 4mt long bag under my arm and leaving my shopping bags by the side of the road, I set off for my flat. The bloody wind had the thing twisting like a fish on a hook and I was trying to fight it. By the time I got back I had guaranteed myself several trips to the chiropractor for some emergency alignment and I just knew things were going to hurt in the morning. First of course, I still had to get my shopping so I limped back to collect my bags and of course, the bacon and eggs.
When I got back, I saw my landlady checking out the bag and she sagely noted that the zip was stuck. Ahh, she’d tried to have a look then. The zip was indeed stuck, jammed with salt as it obviously hadn’t been washed before zipping the bag up the last time it was used. As with most stuck things, a liberal quantity of WD40 and some brute strength and ignorance got it open. I couldn’t believe my eyes, the board and paddle were almost brand new and were of a very good quality.
Score! My new gear – note the sand still in the bag.
The beach is about 30 minutes walk but I knew with my newly unaligned spine, there was no chance me getting on the board for some time, or at least until I had got the car up to Sydney and I could put it on the roof rack!
A month or so later, I did get the car up and took the board to the water. The first time, I was pretty hopeless and I spent more time trying to get back onto the board than I spent on top of it. Despite jealously guarding my very amateur status, I quietly persevered and I can now spend around 70% of my time on the board. Paddle boarding is now my treat to myself and if I get up early enough, I can get down there and have a good paddle before the parking charges start at 8am.
All in all, I have found that it’s something I enjoy and can’t get into too much trouble doing it! I’m getting much better at standing on the thing now and can confidently do a couple of laps around this part of the harbour. There’s a good cafe nearby that does a mean bacon and egg roll and so that’s become breakfast for me on a paddling day.