Side by Side in orbit...
It's been months...though seemingly years as I scroll back and see how little i have made of this year...in the blogosphere at least anyway...
Outside it, under scant stars, pale moon and searing sun, I've had a ripper :)
There were six weeks in Oz... three in the west, where I rerealised that that love will never fade. Although Betty and PG have moved to Lynwood and it's a brand new neighbourhood and I got lost and felt cast apart due to the aching lack of licence, it was still west. It was still clean, and spare and beautiful. The first day I went with Betty to the bottle-o and picked up a Vasse Felix bottle I felt tears spring to my eyes... How badly I want to be settled.
Definite decisions about the phd still haven't been made, though not for any lack of effort on Gary's part. I feel too disconnected here, and haven't even read anything this year. I am hoping, that when I'm back there at least semi-permanently I can knuckle down. And then call me Dr Anna.
The crowded east was next, and three weeks lived with Bud, sharing a bed, eating good (and better) food, drinking too much, farting loud enough to wake the other - it's what dreams are made of!
There isn't the space or the time now to write about everything that happened - one of the definite highlights though was my trip to Canberra to visit Andrew and Maureen (and the amazing AMAZING ride on that big yellow bike)...the days spent with Mellie and Rosco and that unconquerable child :)
Then of course, dancing to John Farnham with Em and Jim, singing around their lounge room...
catching up with Macca in Geelong...
the list could go on.
Then home to B, and a disasterous wedding (not ours ho hum) after which we spent a week not talking, and me thinking this is it this is it, i'm turning around and going home. Of course once we talked about it, little Banana here realised the power of decent communication and it's all fine now.
There was a magical week with mum in Trieste, surely one of the best places in Italy. I know I know, it's not FlorenceVenice bla bla bla, but it's real, untouristy, familiar and it was hot. And it was there I finally learned, that one can get a tan, while wearing sunscreen.
After Trieste, VagueCraig arrived, and all too soon it was Sziget time again. Of course I went, despite my earlier insistence that I wouldn't. I drank too much, smoked too much, embarrassed myself plenty and had a wicked wicked time. Would anyone believe me if I also said I danced?
Then finally, four days of quiet bliss with B at the Balaton. Doing nothing but crawling into the village every late morning for a lazy coffee, then armed with a bottle of water going to shore to lie in the sun and read. And dipped in the suspiciously milky blue water (how strange that it's not salty) And drank wine spritzers and made fires in the evening and cooked what was essentially hunks of lard with onion. Unreal.
And then Sam arrived. And all heads in Budapest turned.
We took a long journey to Slovenia, where more Slovenian heads also turned. It was so good to be with a girlfriend. So good that she was 'my' friend. I adore B's friends, but Sam's my own, and she knows me like few others do.
Ljubljana utterly captured me. The friendliness of the people, the verve and colour of the city and of course meeting Mike and Klemen, a meeting after which Sam and I went back to our hostel room, and danced crazily to by New Order...it was insane. Then we scoffed pistachios lying on the bed, laughing manically.
The next day we took a bus to Piran, and while the mountains passed outside the window I slept, head back mouth open.
Piran is a jewel. Less touristy than Rovigno and smaller, it nestled in next to Ljubljana in that little back room of my heart.
Our hotel, or Hoteli, was right on the water, painted blue, with a curly white balcony overlooking the Adriatic.
We scoffed at the stars, (there were 4) and marvelled at the glory of a night time storm, hair whipping... night swimming under salty waves of temptation and returning to the room, under the scornful gaze of the porter, tasting fresh squid from the sea, watching tennis or porn or tennis, drinking copious amounts of chardonnay, pistachio ice cream and proposals.
It was silly and bright and there was even a town called Arse. Adventure abounded.
Sam left this morning, and when her taxi pulled away I thought again how much I bloody well hate fucking goodbyes. Having said that, new Zealand is totally on the list of next places...
Tonight we're just two, but going to Veroce for an end of summer barbecue and no doubt more drinking. I swear from Monday, fo the sake of my health, I'm going to live a more boring life...
The fear of getting caught,
Of recklessness and water
They cannot see me naked...
Outside it, under scant stars, pale moon and searing sun, I've had a ripper :)
There were six weeks in Oz... three in the west, where I rerealised that that love will never fade. Although Betty and PG have moved to Lynwood and it's a brand new neighbourhood and I got lost and felt cast apart due to the aching lack of licence, it was still west. It was still clean, and spare and beautiful. The first day I went with Betty to the bottle-o and picked up a Vasse Felix bottle I felt tears spring to my eyes... How badly I want to be settled.
Definite decisions about the phd still haven't been made, though not for any lack of effort on Gary's part. I feel too disconnected here, and haven't even read anything this year. I am hoping, that when I'm back there at least semi-permanently I can knuckle down. And then call me Dr Anna.
The crowded east was next, and three weeks lived with Bud, sharing a bed, eating good (and better) food, drinking too much, farting loud enough to wake the other - it's what dreams are made of!
There isn't the space or the time now to write about everything that happened - one of the definite highlights though was my trip to Canberra to visit Andrew and Maureen (and the amazing AMAZING ride on that big yellow bike)...the days spent with Mellie and Rosco and that unconquerable child :)
Then of course, dancing to John Farnham with Em and Jim, singing around their lounge room...
catching up with Macca in Geelong...
the list could go on.
Then home to B, and a disasterous wedding (not ours ho hum) after which we spent a week not talking, and me thinking this is it this is it, i'm turning around and going home. Of course once we talked about it, little Banana here realised the power of decent communication and it's all fine now.
There was a magical week with mum in Trieste, surely one of the best places in Italy. I know I know, it's not FlorenceVenice bla bla bla, but it's real, untouristy, familiar and it was hot. And it was there I finally learned, that one can get a tan, while wearing sunscreen.
After Trieste, VagueCraig arrived, and all too soon it was Sziget time again. Of course I went, despite my earlier insistence that I wouldn't. I drank too much, smoked too much, embarrassed myself plenty and had a wicked wicked time. Would anyone believe me if I also said I danced?
Then finally, four days of quiet bliss with B at the Balaton. Doing nothing but crawling into the village every late morning for a lazy coffee, then armed with a bottle of water going to shore to lie in the sun and read. And dipped in the suspiciously milky blue water (how strange that it's not salty) And drank wine spritzers and made fires in the evening and cooked what was essentially hunks of lard with onion. Unreal.
And then Sam arrived. And all heads in Budapest turned.
We took a long journey to Slovenia, where more Slovenian heads also turned. It was so good to be with a girlfriend. So good that she was 'my' friend. I adore B's friends, but Sam's my own, and she knows me like few others do.
Ljubljana utterly captured me. The friendliness of the people, the verve and colour of the city and of course meeting Mike and Klemen, a meeting after which Sam and I went back to our hostel room, and danced crazily to by New Order...it was insane. Then we scoffed pistachios lying on the bed, laughing manically.
The next day we took a bus to Piran, and while the mountains passed outside the window I slept, head back mouth open.
Piran is a jewel. Less touristy than Rovigno and smaller, it nestled in next to Ljubljana in that little back room of my heart.
Our hotel, or Hoteli, was right on the water, painted blue, with a curly white balcony overlooking the Adriatic.
We scoffed at the stars, (there were 4) and marvelled at the glory of a night time storm, hair whipping... night swimming under salty waves of temptation and returning to the room, under the scornful gaze of the porter, tasting fresh squid from the sea, watching tennis or porn or tennis, drinking copious amounts of chardonnay, pistachio ice cream and proposals.
It was silly and bright and there was even a town called Arse. Adventure abounded.
Sam left this morning, and when her taxi pulled away I thought again how much I bloody well hate fucking goodbyes. Having said that, new Zealand is totally on the list of next places...
Tonight we're just two, but going to Veroce for an end of summer barbecue and no doubt more drinking. I swear from Monday, fo the sake of my health, I'm going to live a more boring life...
The fear of getting caught,
Of recklessness and water
They cannot see me naked...
posted by BanAnna at 9/06/2008 06:35:00 am
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