I'm not really a morning person. There's nothing new in saying this. So to get up at body-clock time of 3.45am this morning was an unusual experience. It's an eerie time of the morning, and having organised well the night before, I could take a moment to pause and look out from the balcony in Clovelly into the trusting sleep of Sydney.
I felt good. I was on the road from 4am to 9am to get to a day of work. It's really fun to visit and leave, and make variety and vibrancy a destination. The sense of sleep deprivation and dislocation gives a detatchment to seeing other people's everyday. Now I'm winding down and starting to digest all that happened, and didn't happen. I've printed out a snap of ordinary grafitti from Camperdown and in Ipswich it is cool urban art on my grey cubicle wall.
That's kindof what travel is about - cross pollinating places and people, rewiring things in ones' own brain, stepping into another time in the same place.
Glad to go, glad to come back, booking the next one soon.
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