Thursday 5 November 2015
It turns out to be hard to write about what you’re doing when a big part of what you are doing is looking for work. But I can say that I set a new family record for short intercontinental trips. Little did we think Andrew’s three nights in Japan last year would be improved upon within the year, but I spent two nights in San Francisco in October. And a night on each side flying diagonally across the Pacific Ocean, of course.
I didn’t especially want to be back in San Francisco so soon after August; San Francisco’s still dust and ashes and those nights I spent pacing up and down Valencia Street completely insomniac. I certainly didn’t want to be there for about 50 hours ex Sydney. I feel like I’ve just about worked out long haul flights after all this time with a combination of pop music, fluffy books, podcasts, and very unchallenging movies. Even so. The natural state of the quite pair-bonded mother is not spending 15 hours at a time incommunicado, twice in four days.
Andrew took the week after that off to spend staycationing with me, the highlight of which was the Bondi to Bronte walk which I’ve never done in full before (only Bondi to Tamarama). Sydney has had a stormy spring and we finished it up in the rain; luckily my favourite kind of weather.
I was back to Sydney for all of five nights before blowing all my mothering credentials entirely out of the water by heading back to the USA — Hawaii — for a long-planned holiday with friends, sans husband and children. Well, I wouldn’t have gone back to Australia in between at all if it weren’t for my kids, but I also could have chosen to stay there once I got there and not gone gallivanting. I was strongly tempted to take A along but couldn’t face the 10 hour flight with her each way. She seems to have recovered quite well other than tending to yell when I leave the room, and constantly dragging a wheelie bag around saying “bye bye” to everyone.
The highlight of Hawaii was also its lowlight: riding the side of a motor boat for an hour with salt spray in my face. The lowlight was the setup: I was just standing up with the crew’s help to go to the side when the boat slammed into the water and I shot into the air and cut my foot on the floor of the boat. It was a shallow cut though, and blood and salt for the next couple of hours. I snorkelled several times, but that had the usual effect of just vividly reminding me how great SCUBA is. Some day I will go to the Big Island and dive and see the lava. At the same time in the unlikely event that’s a thing people do. I read Rainbow Rowell’s amazing Carry On when I should have been resting up for snorkeling adventures. I got so wound up I ended up roaming around on the lawns of the resort in the middle of the night, locked out of the room. I ate a lot of ahi and mahimahi. In Mexican dishes. I didn’t hear a single song on the radio released in a year beginning with 2. It was a good holiday.
I’m back in Sydney until at least the end of the year now. I am not sure what I am going to fill the time with. That is a great luxury and I intent to enjoy it.