Recently I spent a month in Australia on a work assignment. By the second week, the group at work was really starting to gel. We were getting a lot done and having a good time doing it. We had already gotten into the routine of having lunch together, including the obligatory pub lunch on Friday. This week we ate at the Blackbutt pub, mainly so my American co-worker could stop by the Blackbutt Reserve and get a few pictures of the koalas there to send home to his daughter. The koalas have vicious-looking claws and lots of fleas. They tend to urinate on anyone bold enough (we weren't) to hold them. When they aren't scratching their fleas, they seem to be sleeping in the Eucalyptus trees. The birds were incredible. The black swans make a noise that must be heard to be believed. The Emus just walk around looking rather ill-tempered.
On Tuesday, an engineering expert came up from Melbourne to work with us. He was humble and bright. Six of us went to dinner with him at the end of the day. We spent about five hours deeply engaged in discussions about education, consulting, why he didn't teach anymore, childrearing, economics, books, religion, politics, and general theories about how to get through life with a smile on your face. I hope he enjoyed it as much as I did; it was well worth missing the beach that night.
On Wednesday, an Australian work mate had us over for a barbeque. He and his wife and two daughters live about a 20-minute drive from Sydney in a beautiful house in a small, quiet neighborhood. The absence of light pollution allowed a clear view of the southern sky and he was pointed out constellations I had never seen before. I felt privileged to be able to see the Southern Cross. After that, I went outside every night to look at it. I knew I was going to miss it when my stay was over.
We sat around the outdoor table telling stories and laughing until late in the evening. Our host had told me earlier in the week that he had been featured on two bicycle magazine covers. I had told him that he was going to have to prove it. (I had my doubts; he had also told me he was married to a former Miss Universe.) He looked and looked, but couldn't find the magazines. Finally his daughters got up, and in about two minutes they came back, each holding one of the magazines.
Thursday was Bowl-o-Rama day. We went to the local lawn bowling club where we divided up into six teams of four players each and squared off for heated matches of three ends each. Before long I was talking trash with the best of them and I even managed to roll a few credible balls.
Saturday I drove my American co-worker to the airport in Sydney for his flight home, and I began to realize how much I was going to miss this place when I left. I swapped him for another co-worker, made a work plan for the next two weeks, and then drove back to Newcastle. We went to the beach and he enjoyed the sun while I played in the surf. We had a great Thai dinner and went back to the condo. He fell asleep in the chair watching some movie while I listened to music, went to the fruit market to get some more incredible mangoes for breakfast, caught up on my expense report, and read Aldous Huxley's "The Doors of Perception."
On Sunday I drove to Nelson Bay and spent all day exploring the beaches. I bought a great bush hat. I spent more time researching and getting advice on hat brands and styles than I did researching the local wines. I bought some wines, but I wasn't very interested in them. When I returned home a couple weeks later, I gave all the wine away, but I kept the hat.
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