Monday, 18 March 2013
Sydney
Emerging from a close to twelve hour hibernation there was a mild pushing of the panic button when the new sunglasses seemed to have gone missing, and the first step after I'd showered and dressed was to wander past Reception on the way to breakfast to check whether I'd left the little devils there. As it turned out I hadn't, but piecing together the recollections of the coincidence of yesterday's wanderings gave me something to think about instead of musing on the quality of the precooked items in the breakfast servers, which were on the rather ordinary side of rather ordinary.
I had, as far as I could recall, had the sunnies on the way back from the Red Bottle, since I could remember putting them back on before crossing the street and removing them to peruse the menu at the Spring River, which left two possibilities, namely restaurant or room.
Given the free WiFi I'd more than likely be back at the restaurant for lunch, so all that seemed necessary was a more thorough examination of the room, where the offending articles had found their way from the foot of the bed to the floor, which explained the previous failure to notice same.
With a game plan that involved a departure for the night's concert between three and four after a more detailed check of the relevant timetables and, more than likely, a wander around Darling Harbour now that the sunglasses issue had been resolved, I figured I could spend another hour or two in semi-dose mode, a procedure that lasted until sounds of activity down the corridor suggested rooms being made up. Since that would be the excuse to vacate the room I roused myself, prepared for departure, tapped away in the interim and when the clock had rolled around to the forty-five without the interrogatory tap on the door, headed off for a wander with the travelogue right up to date.
I returned an hour and a half later without having learned much that was new. You reach Olympic Park by train (assuming that's your chosen means of conveyance) by travelling west, alighting at Lidcombe and taking one of the services that run at ten minute intervals the rest of the way. I hadn't spotted anywhere other than Spring River that seemed to offer free WiFi and BYO status, and with a couple of Yebisus that needed demolishing that was the obvious choice for lunch. A text from Madam advised that she'd arrived home safely and that everything was under control on the home front.
The text, or rather my reply to same, prompted a phone call, and a crowded Chinese restaurant isn't the best place to take a call when you've got a plate of cumin lamb with Chilli in front of you, so a hasty arrangement for a later call back seemed the way to go.
He call back came as I was just finishing off my review of Saturday night, and with the between show details up to date it looks like time to slip on the shoes, separate the actual ticket from the accompanying packaging and mosey over to Central for a bit of logistical maneuvering before the evening's concert action.
Fortunately I like to head off early, partly due to an irrational fear of something going wrong en route and partly because you never know who you're going to run across at the venue. Not that I was expecting to run into any familiar faces at a Sydney venue, but you never know.
In a way, it was just as well I did. The slip of paper I'd been given when I made my inquiry in the morning stated (and I quote) Catch train from platforms 18 or 19 at Central to Lidcombe. A glance at the diagram that shows the various lines suggested Lidcombe was the sort of place that would be a definite stop for an express service, and so I neglected to find a screen providing the details of the next train about to arrive at Platform 18.
Sure, there was an announcement over the PA about an express service, but as it rattled off the places the thing would stop at the whole lot flew straight through to the keeper. Unfamiliar territory and unwarranted assumptions and all that.
Which, of course, explains why I found myself whiz zing past Lidcombe and alighting at Granville.