I tell ya, I truly didn’t think my skin had become so pommie.
Nell was at the airport to meet me of a quite laid back flight from a 37deg and steamy Bangkok airport. The trip to Bangkok had been a trial – not only stuck next to two elders who felt like chatting (for 10 hours) but that my headphone jack wouldn’t work unless it was being held in a certain position (slightly up and to the right), and the plane was full so no movements allowed. Almost intermidable.
Arrived in Bangkok 10 hours later with the pre-requisite 4 layers of winter-in-britain clothing, and rushed myself to the bathroom to change into skirt, T and sandals – much more civilised in summery climes. Just enough time to have a cigarette and change clothes, then back on the plane for another 9 hours to Syd.
Mentioned my headphone problem to the purser tho, and he managed to get me shifted to the first row after business class, complete with leg-stretchy space, groovy fold up table and (somewhat disappointedly) a dodgy video screen. It did the flickery thing every half hour or so, but I gave it a stern talking to each time it did it by repeatedly hitting it on the back until it stopped. It didn’t get my carefully worded message, however, and flickered the entire way. But the other benefits of the change of seat made up for it. For a start, my legs could stretch in almost any direction they chose, I was sitting next to a good bloke who spent half a year mining to earn enough money to live overseas for the other half. He’d just been in Thailand for 7 months & was out of cash, so home to mine for a bit more cash to fund his next trip. Now that’s gotta be a nice way to live. (G’day to you, and all in Trundle!)
And as we were both happy people, we made friends with the steward sitting facing backwards in front of us for take off, had a chat and a giggle, and then he went off to serve drinks to the rich. He soon returned, though, with a glass (that’s a real glass, made of glass!) of champagne and a pkt of lovely cashews each! Bless you Simon! So when our dodgy cattle class drinks trolley came round we were already lording it up with champagne in real glass and cashews! WhooHoo! Simon was our friend the whole way & smuggled back a few choice titbits for us. I even scored one of the rich folks’ free giveaway satchel thingys with all sorts of creams & stuff in it.
Anyway, so Bangkok-Syd was much MUCH better than London-Bangkok.
Got to Sydney early enough to see the sunrise over the airport carpark, which is surely a momentous event in anyone’s books! Nell was incredibly happy to see me (and not pregnant, despite my suspicions, tho her & Gav are trying). Took quite a while to navigate Sydney’s ridiculous traffic situation, and we took a slightly scenic route that took me past classic Sydney haunts and ex-haunts – though Marrickville, Sydenham, Petersham, Leichardt (Max’s at Petersham is no more, btw – a sad loss to my musical memories of home), The Annandale (which on the upcoming board out the front listed ‘special guest Jimmy Barnes’!!). Down through Camperdown to Glebe, the Fish Markets and up past Sound Level studios in Ultimo – where so much time was spent with various boyfriends and bands. Ah, the patience and loyalty of youth – not to mention the egos! :) Nell took me over the Harbour Bridge, then up the Pacific Highway to the Central Coast, where by 9am I was esconced on her verandah with a tea and a cigarette, just as I predicted. :)
I was trying to stay awake as long as possible, which is the only way I’ve found to deal with jetlag – get yourself in tune with the diurnal cycle of your destination asap – so we went to Erina Fair for a bit of retail therapy. Got myself two pairs of lovely heels (yes, heels! :) and a fantastic panoramic print.
Thursday, after a lovely 2 hr morning beachwalk, we headed to the beach for a wee bit of dipping of toes in the Pacific. In true british fashion, I dipped my whole body into a bottle of 30+ sunblock, armed myself with sunglasses, a hat and a picnic lunch, and off we went. Two hours later I’d had a lovely swim and it was getting a wee bit warm. I could feel myself starting to turn pink, so we retired to the house to eat our picnic. I had a shower to wash off the salt and discovered just how burnt I really was. My chest and arms were red, though they didn’t hurt much. My legs were a very fucking angry red, and started full on screaming about it later that evening at Nell’s parents for dinner. Next morning, despite generous repeated swatherings with 100% aloe vera, the fucking angry red had turned to murderously angry red and my legs were so swollen my knees looked like red cabbages. I couldn’t walk properly, hobbling around like a little old lady, and every time I stood my legs screamed with rage. And to top it all off Nell’s cat kept brushing itself against my aloe vera’d legs, leaving them covered not just in green goo but also punctuated with chunks of cat hair that was too painful to remove. I honestly never thought that my skin could be so pommie.
It’s 3 days after the burning now, and I just have to push push PUSH to you, good readers, the godlike abilities of the humble aloe vera. That spikey ol plant has been a life and leg saver. After two and a half days of almost hourly coatings, my legs were ok enough to wear jeans out to dinner with mates last night. My murderously angry sunburn is now just mumbling to itself in a grumpy way, and I’m well able to wear my new and terribly cute heels to The Church gig tonight.
So – must be off, time for another fantastic seafood lunch before the primping commeth this evening, along with a wonderful dinner and soundscapes to die for. love to all, wish you could be here. xx