As regular readers of my blog will know, I
have a long, and lasting, relationship with Australia. Having done my rite of passage backpacking
trip in ’94, I seemed to spend a month here every second year. Not always with the same person, but I like
to think I was doing my bit for tourism, and the local economy.
I’m now on first name terms with the local
Hunter Valley wine testing tour guide.
And if I go on one more Captain Cruise tour of the Harbour I think I
will be offered shares.
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| Mothers' Day cruise |
I digress.
All the trips here, the developing love
affair, all led to me becoming a permanent resident of this glorious country,
and hence the inception of this blog, documenting my travels and travails along
the way.
In this time, if I had a dollar for each
occasion mum said “I will come out one day and see Australia”, I would have
more money already than my sister seems to be managing to save in her tin for a
trip here.
So, on a long scooter ride last year, wind
buffeting me and the Besbi, with time to think and with thoughts racing through
my head, I made a decision. I went home
that night, and booked a return flight home. And a flight back with me for
mum. This was the only way it was going
to happen. I had to take charge. If you were reading this blog last year, you
would be forgiven for thinking I may not have even still been here right
now. In Australia I mean. Not anything more sinister.
I decided that mum was coming to
Australia. Before life took over. She was coming. All I had to do now was break the news to
her. That was an emotional Skype call,
but in a good way. Once mum had run off
outside for some fresh air, and returned to my little glowing computer screen,
it had become a reality.
Not having flown further than Europe
before, I did wonder if I had bitten off more than I could chew. This could prove to be an ordeal. Twenty four hours, with a couple of stops in
Munich and Singapore along the way, cooped up in a glorified tin can.
But it has to be said, it was “too easy, no
dramas”. I think all the food served on
the plane took mum’s mind of the actual flying.
At one point I thought I’d fallen asleep and woken up in the middle of
an episode of Man (or mum) versus Food!
Surely, she didn’t have room for a Magnum ice cream after ALL th……..oh wait……
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| Mary versus food |
In no time at all we had touched down on
Australian soil, were in a cab, zooming across the city, and Mary was in
Mosman.
What followed was a fantastic 3 weeks of
showing mum around the back yard. Where
I have chosen to currently call home.
Show her what keeps me here.
One thing I had resolved to do was get mum
being a bit more adventurous when eating out.
Go to any pub / café / restaurant with mum, hand her the world’s largest
menu, and I can predict with eerie accuracy what she will order. “Scampi and chips please son.”
Well, we were having none of that on this
holiday. Although she did try.
I’m not sure she was too impressed when on
one of her first days here, I took her for seafood. With NO scampi. Her face was a picture when I offered her
some octopus tentacles. And prawns that
required the heads pulling off, and peeling were not what she was used to from
Wetherspoon’s.
Another first was a wine tasting trip. Being Sydney’s most loyal customer, Sam the
owner provided my trip at half price, with a promise that my next visit would
be complimentary. I am already checking
the calendar for when I will be taking him up on this offer.
I had purposefully chosen this particular
trip, as on the way to the Hunter, we have morning coffee at a wildlife
centre. Giving you the opportunity to
get up and close with all your Australian favourites, although I think this
little fella is everyone’s fave!
I think the wine was less of a hit with
mum, but I benefited from this, having double tastings. Now this was MY kind of trip J
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| Can't see any shrimps on that barbie! |
Other highlights included the Mother’s Day
lunch trip around the Harbour, a trip to Summer Bay (aka Palm Beach), an
amazing high tea at Boronia House, a visit to Bondi beach (everybody has to on
their first trip, despite what the locals say), and the numerous BBQs we
had.
A particular highlight for me was mum
frequenting the many stores in Mosman.
Could I keep her out of the haberdashery? How much knitting can one granny do? And who would call a homeware store “Bird
bath and Table”? Nobody but mum it
seems…
Mum,
we had a great time. You were a
fantastic house guest. I miss you every
day. And I look forward to seeing you
again on these shores next year.
