The weekend after I returned to Australia, I flew down to Sydney with my choir. We met up with Union choirs from around Australia, sang together all day on Saturday at Redfern Community centre and gave a concert on Saturday night at Marickville Portuguese club. It was a great weekend, we sang our hearts out and had a meeting on Sunday morning about our planned trip to Cuba in November.
I was billetted in Glebe with another choir member and we were really looked after by our hosts, one of whom is a member of Sydney Trade Union choir - many thanks! Glebe is a great place to live - it is one of the few places in Australia where you can walk each day to get your fresh vegetables and bread - the kind of village atmosphere that is drawing me back to Malta. My cousin Pete lives just round the corner from our billet so I was able to walk round and check out the renovations he is undertaking to his terrace house that has great views over the centre of Sydney.
After the meeting on Sunday, I jumped on a train and went down to Dapto to visit my aunt and uncle who live near Shell Harbour. We have a thunderstorm coming up so will post and add later.
I'm now camping out in my house in Thorneside and I'm so pleased that my new wireless connection just seems to work everywhere! I'll finish the story of my trip to Illawara. The photo that heads the post was taken outside the Dapto railway station where I had arranged for my uncle to pick me up when I got off the train. But the meeting did not go smoothly! The trip down from Sydney passes through some lovely country and I always enjoy it. I phoned as we were leaving Sydney to let my aunt know what train I was on and settled in to enjoy the ride. We passed the oldest National park in Australia, came down from the heavily wooded mountains with lovely glimpses of the villages nestled along the coastline and when we were travelling along the flat, there was an announcement saying that the next stop would be Dapto. I got up and took my small case to wait at the door. The train stopped and I grappled with the door which seemed to be reluctant to open. When it did open, I leapt out and watched the train pull away. The station seemed very small. When I trundled my little case outside, I realised it was the wrong station - Kembla Grange where the train only stops when there are races on at the track! I was bushed! I phoned my aunt but just got the answering machine. Maybe I can walk, I thought. There was a junk yard across the road and I spotted two men talking so I trundled my trolley over to ask which way to go.
"Too far to walk, mate," said one.
"Wait while I talk to the boss and I'll give you a lift," said the other. I dismissed the little flashes of Wolfe Creek, the horror movie, and waited. After a while, we got into an old, rather grubby car and set off. The man was an unemployed truck driver who had been in Australia for about 35 years from one of the middle European countries - the same length of time as me. He talked non-stop about finding work and how it was easy for him because he was active in looking in the right places. When we got to Dapto, I offered to give him some money for the fuel but he wouldn't take it saying that he hoped one day someone would do the same for him.
There was no sign of my uncle outside the somewhat bigger Dapto train station, so I phoned and left another message on the answering machine. After another half hour during which I inspected the war memorial and advised a hurrying young woman that the Sydney trains seemed to be running without any necessity to catch buses because of track work, I started to wonder about my uncle. I phoned again. This time I managed to catch him as he got back from his first trip to pick me up from a train that had already thrown me out at an unscheduled stop.
"Where are you? Stay where you are and I'll be there." His Scottish tones had never sounded so sweet!
The rest of my stay was completely stress-free. We had a family dinner to celebrate my uncle's 79th birthday, visited the Illawara fly, an excellent tree top walk at the top of the mountain range with stunning views out to the coast,walked in Black Butt forest in the mornings, had meals with my cousins and with my aunt and uncle's friends and visited a pet shop owned by a man from Malta who was happy to talk about his beloved island for an hour. When the time came to fly back to Brisbane, my uncle drove me all the way to Sydney airport - perhaps he no longer trusted my ability to manage the train!
I really enjoyed the few days I had with my family in Illawara and hope that I can continue to spend time with them when I move to Malta.
