Gathering the threads

My life will catch up with me tomorrow afternoon. Thirty-seven boxes will be loaded into our tiny lift and deposited in my flat. The ship arrived in Malta over two weeks ago but the processes of getting my past back into my present have been complicated. In general, the transfer of my meagre collection from Australia has been without drama. It seems, however, that the transfer of funds is not so simple and that is why my possessions have languished in a bonded store for over a week. I'm not sure how I will feel when I start unpacking.

Last year, I was back in Australia for six months and all of that time, I was preparing to leave. I had decided to come and live in Malta and my return to Australia was about making that happen. Decisions about the detail hadn't been made when my friend, Lou, met me at Brisbane airport with my little car that he had been looking after. It was good to be back.

The first decision that had to be made was about my beautiful house on the bank of a mangrove creek. I had lived there for almost 20 years and there was a lot of myself built into the extensions and renovations I had made. Yet it was easy to decide to sell - the creative work was finished, it was good and I was ready to start my next piece. The process of selling was also easy once I had negotiated the uncertainties of the current economic climate by having the house independently valued. When I put it on the market, it sold within three days. The Real Estate people have a special name for it which I've forgotten - something like a heart sale, meaning that the buyer falls in love with the house. I was glad I could reject the other offer from a guy who didn't understand my house at all.

After that, I spent an interesting few months camping out in the house as the sale processes went through. I sorted through all my possessions and put my life into piles. There were treasured things like my collection of framed community theatre posters and the scale model of Bluenose, the first Americas cup contender, that needed to go to particular people. That pile was fairly easy as I had already thought about that for when I die. There were things that particular friends could make use of such as my fridge, my chopping block on wheels and my car. There were all the things, particularly books and lifetime memories, that I couldn't bring myself to dump and that is what will arrive here this afternoon. And all the rest went into a garage sale when my cousins came down from Mt Tamborine to help me. The night before the sale, I invited all my friends and neighbours to come to a party and choose a memento of me from the books and ear-rings that hadn't made it into the pile for Malta. Then after the garage sale, everything that was left went to the charity shop. I felt almost euphoric during that whole process, but my last night in an empty house was strange and sad. My plan was to spend the last day before settlement in the house so that I could go through and clean it lovingly before handing her (does a house take on the gender of its owner?) on. But my choir was singing at a peace rally on that day so everything became a bit rushed and I couldn't linger as I had hoped. In the end, I was racing to load all my final bits into my car and get the keys to the Estate Agent so I couldn't indulge the tears that were pricking my eyes.

After the house was sold, I felt different about being in Australia. It was as though now I was really a visitor. I did all the practical things like settle on my flat in Malta and arrange a loan on a small rental unit in Redlandshire so I would still have a foot on the ground. In the last few months I was house-sitting for friends, rehearsing every week with my choir ready for our exciting trip to sing at the International choral festival in Cuba and making my farewells with friends and relatives. But in my heart I was already on the way. In my next post I'll tell the story of my journey from Australia to Malta via New Zealand and Cuba.

The photo that heads up this post is of the waves crashing over Sliema front near the Fortizza. We have had a lot of big winds in the past weeks and when it is from the North or East the waves break magnificently over the North/East facing side of the island. My flat looks out on the Grand Harbour entrance and the waves cascade over the breakwater.

Hope for 2010

My first post for another year. It's now almost two years since I started the blog and looking back I am so glad that my niece, Sholeh, got me started. I now have a record of my travels in 2008/09 and as I settle back in Malta, I'll start documenting again my experiences day to day as well as putting up some summaries of packing up in Australia and shipping out to Malta via Cuba. The photo is of weathered rock in a fort we visited in Santiago de Chile.

I'm watching the red Round-the-Harbour launch come in through the gap in the breakwater from Sliema and now the big traditional luzzu that also does the trip. They are both crowded with tourists so there may be a cruise liner in. I have the computer set up at the living room window so I can watch the busy life of Grand Harbour. I love getting to know the moods of this small piece of the Mediterranean that can tell so much of the story of the lands that surround it. Every day, as the winds shift, the sea takes on a different colour. Today, the wind is from the South East and the sea is calm, rippled grey. Some high cloud gradually works its way across the sky and the wheeling pigeons flash white against it.

My shipment of the pared down remnants of my life will arrive here after 12th January. It will be strange to unpack all that memorabilia sorted and packed in another world, another life on the other side of the globe. In my next post I'll start telling the story of that process.

Malta or Cuba?

The photo is not Malta but Cuba! What gives the same feel is the age of the buses (and cars in Cuba) and the abundance of churches. But I'm now back in Malta and settling into my flat in Valletta. I don't have internet access at home yet so this is by way of a promise to restart writing on my blog as soon as I get set up.

Sydney and Illawara

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.

Australia again

I've been back in Queensland for three weeks and have neglected the blog because I didn't have internet access at the place I'm staying in Mt Cotton.  But I want to keep the blog going even if I post less frequently so this is by way of promising an update very soon.  The photo was taken from the Illawara Fly, a treetop walk in the range behind my aunt and uncle's place at Shell Harbour.

Singapore

This is the new Orchid Road centre in Singapore.  My hotel is round the corner in Scotts Road.  This area is all shopping centres and hotels but that's fine for me at the moment because I'm into recovery mode.  

On the seven hour overnight flight from Dubai I passed out in the aisle and when I came round a large Russian woman was yelling at me and fighting the Singapore airlines cabin staff over where to put the blood pressure cuff on my limp wrist.  The combination of Dubai heat, Egypt belly and cabin pressure had got to me.  The up side was that I scored a row of seats to lie down for the rest of the trip.

So I spent yesterday in my hotel room sorting myself out although I did manage to cross the road to a shopping centre and have a manicure and pedicure.  Today I've ventured further afield and ordered myself two silk suits to be made up for me to pick up tomorrow afternoon before I fly out.  I've always wanted to do that in Singapore!  I also had a full body lymphatic massage and that made me feel great!

The other thing I did today was walk down to the Botanic gardens.  It's a lovely area at one end of Orchard Road and it has won several International awards as a great urban jungle.  I spent a few hours wandering through the ginger garden, the rainforest, and beside the lakes.

Tomorrow I'll go and get my hair cut after my late check out and before picking up my tailoring and hope that the flight to Brisbane will be gentle on me.

Dubai

Just to touch base and promise later posts on my trip to Oman - Muscat and Salalah - as well as something about Dubai.  I'm back in Dubai arriving late last night and am catching up on internet stuff before my flight to Singapore this afternoon.  I'll edit my previous post with the last bit about Mt Sinai.  I've put up a photo of Rameses here taken in Luxor because my guide here in Dubai pointed with pride at the Raffles hotel (same chain as the famous Raffles in Singapore where I am heading next) which is built like a pyramid with massive Rameses statues at the entrance.  Dubai is like a collection point for all the icons of the world!