Off the Road Again

March 1, 2012

After the wild successes and gruelling trials of being on the road for 5 weeks, we’re back in the Zen-like state that is Islington, all go and stop at the same time, all hustle and bustle and nothing ever happens. Makes a change from whizzing around seeing loved ones and throwing away years of accumulated material memories (or selling them, which is strongly related in my book, given that both practices involve divestment of cumbersome goods as the ultimate goal. Also, in both cases you get to keep the actual memories, assuming you have a talent for doing that, absent the physical reminders.)

Also there was weather. From the dependable dustiness of the Pune winter to the torrential flooding squalls of north-eastern New South Wales we had us some weather. It looks like la Niña has come to visit Australia once again, with the reservoirs up and down the coast backpedalling from the dry-to-the-point-of-laconic stance we saw them in when we left the country five years ago. Five years ago the grass was crackling underfoot, and brown; the hoses had been banished and cars sat dusty on every corner and kerb. This time it was hard to find a dry spot to park yourself, but at least the plants were breathing easy.

The Road

I was going to turn this into a brutal blow-by-blow of the trip, but I think a couple of observations on memory and water will do for now. I will say, though, that I am eternally grateful for the opportunity to catch up with all the people, new, old, and older, that had the time to spare and chose to spend with us during the very little time we could spare them. You know who you are.


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