While Not Working

We booked the a day trip to Rottnest Island and I hired a bicycle for the purposes of exploration.  Roger didn't have a choice: not yet being up to the demands of pedalling, he was condemned to the hop-on hop-off bus around the island and had decisions to make about whether he could survive the whole day without Steve. We caught the Rottnest Express, a sleek boat jam packed full of tourists and bicycles. Private cars weren't allowed on Rottnest Island and bicycles were the default mode of transport if you wanted to see the whole island and didn't want to be restricted to the limited hours of the hop-on/off bus. There were a lot of bicycles, on every boat, every 30 minutes.  Plus the people like me, who were too late to book a boat bicycle and had to hire directly from the shop on the island. I lined up with a zillion other tourists and got my bicycle, which I quickly discovered was the most uncomfortable bicycle in the world.  Off I went along the waterfront, apologising ...

The Steve effect fast tracked us through security and check in and we parted ways at the aircraft door: Roger to the fairytale lands of Business class and me to the trenches of Economy. Being the kind person that he is, my beloved made sure to send me photos of his lie-flat bed, lavish menus, and all the things that Economy could only dream about. Waiting for a plane. On my left an English chappie confessed that he lived in Kalgoorlie and commuted every 5 weeks to visit his family in London.  "I'm from Kalgoorlie too!" chimed Mr OnMyRight, and they conducted a little who-do-you know conversation until Mr OMR confessed that he was a cop.  Mr On The left promptly withdrew to the comfort of multiple small wine bottles gladly provided by the Qantas staff and that was the last anyone heard from him for the next 14 hours or so. Last view of London. The babies on Qantas QF10 were the quietest things on board as we flew into tomorrow.  On QF10 nobody settled in to sleep: there wa...

Warning: photo spam incoming. On my last day in London I walked up to the old stables beside the Crane river, retracing my steps from my first day in London, way back at the beginning of September. Beyond the stables I turned left, following the Grand Union Canal in to Hayes & Harlington. Houseboats lined the canal near its intersection with the shopping street, and two white swans came to say hello. Excuse me, are you feeding swans today?   The last day in London stretched before me, uncluttered by commitments.  Roger and Steve fended for themselves back at the hotel watching planes and completing previously neglected paperwork. I caught the Tube to Bond St and wandered south through Rich London Land, Toy shops for rich people. Bright orange buildings with matching bright orange street workers. Berkeley Square was lined with benches of lunch-time Londoners under a thinning canopy of autumn leaves, and further down the hill tourists congealed outside the gates of  Buc...