Tuesday, March 25th, 2008

A final swim in the hotel pool with the Harbour Bridge in sight. I’m going back to New York. I never like leaving Australia. I’ll be back in the Summer.


Crept around to various spots in the hilly harbour surrounds, listening to the swirl of sounds from the countless varieties of human labour unfolding all around – boat and crane motors humming, glasses clinking onto tables being set for the first round of customers, all clattering amidst the vast sorta hum that emanates from large bodies of water. The din was punctured only by the screeching of all sorts of birds and bats that don’t exist in America. Birds have alot to say over here. I stared back at the Sydney Opera House from hundreds of often-startling angles afforded by the wharves, the canon-strewn slopes below the bridge overpass, the bright green hilltops in the botanical gardens. I wrote a bit throughout the day, but mostly tuned in and wondered alot.