A Tale of Two Cities
If you could split your time evenly between two places, and two places only, which would these be?
On Friday I had my first swim for the season. Not in the surf (still too cold for me) but round at the gaol, which is just to the left of the blob you can see here on the horizon…
…and not as bad as it sounds. It’s the ruins of an old convict-built gaol, now part of a national park.
The water on that side of the bay is still and relatively shallow: likely to be warmer, I thought, and it was.
And that night before I went to bed, I took a last cup of coffee outside, sat on the balcony with my feet propped on the rail, contemplated the stars and listened to the ocean.
My idea of bliss. Why would I want to live anywhere else?
But every so often I go to Sydney to see my family. They’re the main attraction, but I like Sydney as well.
Yeah yeah, you’re thinking. Typical tourist shot. True, but it really does look like that. It’s the commuter ferry trip I took countless times when I lived (as my kids still do) in a harbour-side suburb. Don’t want to live there – the traffic’s just silly – although I might have to when I get too old and doddery to carry the shopping up the stairs.
So I pretty much live in two places already, although the first is so far from being a city it struggles to make it onto a map. Other than that, there are lots of places in the UK I’d be happy to spend half a year – provided I could cherry pick the days when the weather was good.