I may be here, but my head is still in New York amongst its tall magnificent structures. I was that annoying person who halted every two minutes to capture yet another of Manhattan’s finest with my iPhone 5. I couldn’t get enough of them. Old, new, Art Deco, 70s, amazing,
ugly less so.
It’s a strange thing really, this fixation with bricks and mortar, glass and steel. The shapes they make against the sky, reaching, towering.
Hello friends! I’m back. It was a short trip but a long journey… I’m very glad to be back in Sydney after 24 hours or so of travel.
New York was hot and sticky beneath a canopy of thick clouds. I must say the humidity took me by surprise. Thankfully, I was in air-conditioned surroundings most of the time.
The work thing went well. I got to do some sightseeing. (And shopping.)
I wish I could’ve stayed for longer.
Sydney feels very small now.
Having spent most of my life in cities without trams, I always find being in Melbourne such a novelty. The trams, and their accompanying network of overhead cables: I see them everywhere – kind of like the way a person who has just started wearing spectacles sees the frames around their eyes the entire time they’ve got their glasses on.
Sydney has a mode of transport that it calls the Light Rail which resembles the trams, but its network is nowhere as extensive or used as Melbourne’s offering. When I lived in Glebe I used it almost daily, and I did prefer it to the buses. I’ve only been on Melbourne’s trams a handful of times, and I couldn’t even tell you how much a ticket costs – we didn’t take the tram at all when we visited this time.
The streets seem very wide as a result of the tram lanes. I like that feeling of space it imparts.
Nor did we use the train either, but I do like Flinders Street Station (‘FSS‘). The station is a well-known, some would say iconic, feature of Melbourne, and for many, an instantly recognisable sight. She reminds me of a lady of a certain age who’s somewhat stuck in her ways, refusing to change her style for the modern looks of today. Especially when you see her standing somewhat grandly with the recently raised Rialto Tower behind her.
Melbourne’s Yarra River doesn’t seem to be used for much besides leisure transportation. I wonder why that is. Perhaps there’s not much call for it, what with all the public bikes available. Somehow, I don’t think they’re used as much as the ‘Boris bikes’ in London.
Or maybe, Melbourne’s residents prefer the horse-and-carriage option. Especially since they appear to dress for the occasion!
Listening: Obvious Bicycle by Vampire Weekend
And to YOU who may recently have followed this blog and/or liked a post or two. Thank you! It’s always nice to know that people are reading and, hopefully, enjoying…
It’s Monday morning. It rained all through the night (and it’s still raining). I couldn’t even get out of bed when the alarm went off earlier which means I’ve forgone my early-morning gym session. Bad me.
I keep returning to photos from the weekend, including this one, which features a blue sky city view from our hotel room on Collins Street.
Anyway, that’s enough of that. The weekend is o-v-e-r. Suffice to say there aren’t enough reasons to want to leave the apartment today, but it’s time to get on with the day.
What this photograph tells me is that sometimes you need to look at things from a different angle… Because I walk past this building pretty much daily. It’s got a very unimpressive, unmemorable façade at street level. It’s an office block with a café next to the entrance and reception – cafés are seemingly ubiquitous in office towers these days – neither building nor café seems special. I always think how glad I am not to work in it. Mind you, there’s probably nothing wrong at all with this building – I simply prefer the one I work in.
It looks good from this angle, though… And now I wonder, surely there must be pretty good views from the higher floors…
That’s me, always in search of a view.
It depends on your perspective, I guess. Do you see the blue sky beyond the criss-cross of steel and glass, or do you see a cage? Or do you see walls and windows and wonder what goes on behind them? Or whether people can see you?
I’m feeling this tonight: Retrograde by James Blake
I am aware that of late I have been posting pics of bricks, mainly. When one lives in the city, it’s hard to escape the brick boxes, so much so that one ends up becoming somewhat obsessed, in fact, by the shapes and structures, singly or seen in a huddle. If it weren’t for my fear of heights, I’m sure I’d be one of those abseiling window-washers already.