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Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Speeding home like a Kugelblitz


It is a sparkling day in Sydney today. Lenny and I are not sparkling – but we can only improve as the day goes on.

It is my last day in Sydney. Lenny and Kezza (my daughter) and I walked through the Botanic Gardens and down to the Opera house and had lunch. We did this at some peril to our lives as there were thousands of runners stampeding along the pathways gasping and panting and sweating in great heaving packs. They stop for no one.
Anyway - it is years since I have been there and I managed to prise both eyes open wide enough through the mist of Jamesons to appreciate the sight of the harbour and the bridge.

Tonight I will be speeding home like a Kugelblitz to Vienna where the cats await me. Cate could not be bothered waiting and has gone to Johannesburg. Mrs.  Moneypenny has gone to Latvia. Her deputy – Java – is doing the cat minding.

Java is also my wood wrangler and has the responsibility of trundling the Sushi rolls of compressed sawdust from Billy Benz up to the apartment. This year he will have to go with me to Bauhaus and put them into the car as well because I am not going to take any chances with my ribs before we go to Norway.

I checked in online and cheered up immensely to see that I am on an Airbus A380 and that Rozalin has organised a good seat for me – although those bastards at Emirates may change it because I know they hate me – and all because of the emails I sent to them about them stealing Cate’s spectacles.

Molly is back so you can expect an immediate improvement in the quality of editing.

5 comments:

  1. Stay safe, beautiful photo, just realized I do not remember ever lunching a place so pretty.

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  2. Your missives from Australia told of such a fairy tale time and country, I fear for you once you are back in Wien Village. Sidney truly looks spectacular!
    Safe voyage back,
    M.

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  3. fmcgmcclic: You will when you visit.

    Merisi: But Wien is also so beautiful - and you are there!

    TNDW:TVM:

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  4. One takes one's life in one's hands, when sharing a path with the packs of maniacal and self-righteous joggers of Sydney.

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