Outback or backout

Help!!! I am in serious need of assistance! “How can we help?” you scream. You - “What do you need help with?” – me - “Everything” you -  “Like what?”   me – “What bit of everything are you having trouble comprehending?”   you – “All of it!”  

At which point I throw myself on the floor kicking and shouting “has the whole world gone crazy?”, “only your bit”. A mysterious voice in my head whispers.    Okaaaay, I thinks, this is where I return to sender and Start again.

(Starting again).  You know those special days – I mean the ones you plan and look forward to for ages, well I’m not going to talk about those type of days, it’s one of those plain Monday to Wednesday type of planned excursion I intend to relate, but with the way I’m writing lately you just never know.  Part of coming away to Aus was to learn how I would cope with my medical condition and supplies. Not that I’m invalided or incapable, just that I haven’t ventured from the home for months and now is the time to grab it by the neck and shake myself back into normality.

So why be scared when there’s an amazing support team checking me a one end of the venture and another at the other end, with very able assistance in between. It’s whether I would cope with the minor problems.

What a prat I say to myself, you’ve had much larger challenges than “a day out”. So, with my usual resolve having decided D-Day will be Wednesday, I’ll use Tuesday for planning and preparation. Silly really as we, as a family have already had this day. That said I intend to lengthen my goal by heading from home through to Manly Beach.

That may sound small beer to many of you and to be honest if I had good health, it would be. But I’m trying to improve my strength and resilience so take it as a minor challenge but add to the target to do that.

So here we go: Target – To walk across Manly Beach and back again.  How does that work? Like this:

Get to the metro station at Kellyville. Take Metro to city.   Take tram from city to Darling Harbour.  From DH to take Ferry to Manly Beach, halfway – take a stroll along the beach – return home – simples!!

That’s the theory – now the practise.

Being an independent type of person, I decided to do the whole journey door to door without cadging lifts from the family, but this involved a small recce for the starting point. In order to get to the Metro, one needs a method of conveyance and being a frugal sort of geezer I decided that a taxi or uber wouldn’t cut it, besides I have an Opal card, which provides me with funds to pay for almost any means of public transport throughout NSW (I think). So GD2 takes me for a walk around the block identifying the bus stop I would need next day and of course the times when the bus would be at said stopping point. Step one complete, making step two – getting the Metro to the city.  Again, having previous experience of this means of transportation, but coming away from the city as opposed towards the city, I have no concerns. With this information, my trusty map (old school – I know) snowshoes, tent, sunglasses, huskies and sledge all prepared I get a good (?) night’s sleep – that’ll be the day. 

Bus.  It must be said that the service with the buses well organised offering two routes to choose from – one will get me to my preferred destination to other not. Therefore, having perused the timetable and decided on the (correct) route, I stand in the strong sunshine and wait. From the plan point of view the first hiccup occurs. I am too early!!

Not that that is a problem, I can stand around waiting, with my England Cricket Hat firmly fitted protecting my bald spot for the dangerous rays, when there is an interesting  - to some – observation made. For those of you who enjoy the tenuous links in my blogs this link is easy-peasy to see. Two buses use this stop, Bus 1 heads to the metro -route number 617. Bus two doesn’t head to the metro – route number 633.  SEE THE LINK ????, For those of you who don’t, write to me care of: etc, etc, etc.

617 arrives (11 minutes late) Discharges passengers (bombs gone  hint) and the writer boards, taps his card as required, finds  seat and sits back for stage one of the grand day out. During the journey it was noticed that there was a problem relating to the length of the bus and the local traffic islands – they don’t match. Let me explain. The buses are of the long-bodied sort, with wheels suitably positioned for the open road. The town planners and designers fitted attractive roads, making the most of the local geography and at critical points in the roads which link the dwellings to the exit to the outside world have incorporated small roundabouts or traffic islands (depends where you live) most f which are constructed with three or four exits.   Where’s then problem?  The problem gentle reader comes from one of these points of view. Either the buses are too long and need to be replaced with smaller versions or the traffic islands are too big and need to be dug up and replaced as crossroads or mini mini-islands.  Why? Because the coach length bus has to mount the island in order to be able to get round it to take the required exit for his route.  So if you take the bus and the driver misses bumping over all the curves on the five islands he has to negotiate – you are either on the wrong route or you’ve got one of those rare species – a good bus driver.

The writer alights at the Metro station and is elevated to the track height and awaits the arrival. The beauty of this train although it stops at every stop it’s quick – why? Lack of human participation.   We arrive without incident at a station close to the ferry required for the third step of the journey- Barangaroo !!  TW gets off and checks with the signs having made up his mind that today he will visit the maritime museum as an add-on excursion, requiring boarding another ferry another route. The signs indicate the way he has to travel, so our intrepid explorer walks (yes he walks) towards the wharf where the ferry picks up passengers. He arrives about thirty minutes later only to find that he’s missed his ferry and the next won’t be for 25 minutes. Coffee break he thinks, and heads for city centre in search  of an emporium which provides said refreshment.  He comes across one – al bistro style – and is conducted to a seat at the back of the venue where this aging old fossil won’t detract from the Aussie-yups who drape themselves over the front row seats, while holding expressos on ice, bottled water grasped in hand and Danish pastries scattered to the winds – posers!!

Right decision made tw heads to the ferry, confirms with sailor (ferry person, keeper of the time table, route master and positioner of boarding ramp, that the ferry will arrive soon – Wharf 2  side A. It arrives and tw is aroused from his conjugations and leaps up (as if) and runs (stop lying) and boards the ferry almost crushed in the stampede to board (not there was only two getting on).  Stage completed, TW arrives at the museum and spends a couple of hours watching short films, exploring the art gallery, checking the info on cruise ships, and a guided tour around the cruiser in the dock adjacent to the museum – fabulous.

Despite best efforts TW is bushed and decides that making it to Manly would cause problems so elects after taking a vote to head for home. But before that he heads for the restaurant and has another coffee - he’ll be a junkie at this rate – and a sausage roll. Delicious.  As obligatory TW heads towards, in fact there is a magnet bult into his DNA which compels him to shop.  TWs PD consultant routinely checks for compulsions such as spending money. Is she sane? It’s no compulsion. Not to me anyway. It’s a way of life!!

After a long journey home or so it seems whereas we both know it’s the same either way, Tw alights from another cross-roundabout bus trip to see D2 dressed up to look like a teacher. They walk the last few yards discussing TW’s day and she advises that with having done so much that if he’s going to do a blog he’d better start tomorrow.