Sunday 18 June 2017

Egyptian for lunch again

This morning I set off shortly after 11am on my walk, which took me through Darling Harbour as usual. On Broadway near Central Station there was a young woman wearing a blue denim jacket with "1966", "666" and "Bad Acid" printed in red and white ink on the back. She was walking along arm-in-arm with another woman, who wore a tan coat. Down near Wattle Street next to UTS a young man wearing a black top and brown shorts walked along with a surfboard in a silver coloured carry bag hanging from his right shoulder. The light changed to green just as I arrived and I walked straight across to the traffic island.

Up near the shopping centre there was a woman standing in the stream of pedestrian traffic holding a computer monitor in her hands. Her eyes were closed as she stood immobile on the pavement. At Victoria Park I was the only person entering along the footpath and I headed up toward the university. In Newtown at Missenden Road the traffic light again changed to green just as I arrived and I went straight across. I headed down to Enmore and went into the Egyptian restaurant, ordering my food and taking a stool at the counter facing the kitchen.

I also ordered a Camperdown Pale Ale, which was sweet and rich in taste. The food was as good as the time before and when I finished eating I spoke briefly with the staffer who came to take away the empty plates. She had dreadlocks and wore grey jeans. I left the restaurant and headed north. At the corner of Enmore Road and King Street I looked up at the dark clouds coming in from the southeast. The wind was chilly here at the square and I hurried on along King Street. Up at the corner of Carillon Avenue and City Road there were three young men waiting for the lights behind me, and they were talking about international plane travel. When we had all crossed the road they turned into St Paul's College and I carried on down the street toward the park.

I decided to go into the city to buy some socks, so I headed back along Broadway and across Quay Street into George Street where the trackwork is going on. Young women stood outside the massage parlours offering leaflets to passers-by. I walked past the pawnbrokers with the steady flow of foot traffic. At Liverpool Street I looked east and could see the buildings that flank Hyde Park glowing brightly in the sunshine. I got to the department store and went up in the lift to the menswear section, found some suitable socks and paid. On the way out I took a phone call so I went down on the escalators. I was still talking on the phone on Pyrmont Bridge. At the pub there was a live band playing music for patrons who sat at tables and at the counter with their drinks. I got home soon after; I had been gone for almost four-and-a-half hours.

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