In which I woke up at 4am because my body knew I had to get up at 5am. I flew from Melbourne to Sydney and, when I arrived, the sun was high just like I remember it always being in Sydney and I thought all those Wettest Season Ever claims must have been imagined.
In which I had toast and tea with my parents in a cafe in my old neighbourhood of Surry Hills, and it was oh so familiar but also not. I realised that yet another place no longer felt like home, but that I was ok with that.
In which my dad and I roamed around The Rocks taking photographs, and my mother exercised the patience of a saint. Also, on seeing the photograph of myself at the top of this post, I realised I really should invest in some actual maternity clothes.
My parents have just returned from China and they brought back a bounty of cute outfits for Baby B, and a hand-engraved ink stamp with Mr B’s and my name and the symbol for ‘love’ to celebrate our first anniversary. While opening these presents I devoured a Thai lemongrass and basil stir-fry for lunch, and the chilli gave Baby B the hiccups.
In the evening my friend Sarah and I met up in Chinatown for noodles and dumplings and green tea ice-cream. The owner of the noodles and dumpling place came outside and played his violin for the crowd while we waited for a table. Once inside, Sarah and I had one of those brilliant creative brainstorms during which everything fit into place. Don’t you love it when that happens?
Later that night I watched incredibly bad reality TV in bed in my hotel room, and it was an unspeakable luxury.
Morning. In which I caught a taxi out to Rozelle to meet my friend Cara, and the driver was friendly and actually knew the way. This being such a short visit, Cara and I sipped chai tea and fresh juice and shared our lives on fast-forward. It is amazing what you can get through in just an hour when you have to.
Cara and Sarah had booked a private room for all my friends at the 3 Weeds, but we arrived early and I had to submit to the indignity of being a pregnant woman loitering on a pub stoop until it opened. Once indoors, I proceeded to sit like a fat, round queen bee for the next five hours while my friends dropped in as the afternoon suited them, to say hi.
My mum made a black forest cake for Baby B and it was sublime (and very cute). I was thankful, not for the first time or even the 100th time, for the wonderful friendships I have, and that love trumps distance.