Worth the wait

Waiting is, let's face it, boring. We want good things now, immediately. However, the wait, being patient, makes it all so much sweeter - I now understand it.

I feel like when I started this blog, hectic weekends were a rarity - nights out just weren't common, dinners out with people pretty much non-existent. All the fun, 'lesiurey' stuff, just didn't really happen - I thought there would be more pessimism in my takes on Sydney life. Thank god that wasn't the case.

Back for another blog, and I wanted to start by saying thank you for coming back and reading again - somehow, you don't mind me talking shit about the most random things, connecting Café's to the Sopranos 'way of life,' or ranting about flatmates - not that I have to worry about that now!

This week, it's fair to say, has been awesome. Perhaps, should I have had an accountant, there would be someone with a red face, shaking fists and an aggressively delivered spreadsheet - this week was probably not my most financially responsible. Is that okay? Not really. But at the same time, man, I'm going home five weeks from Friday. FIVE. That's insane. That lukewarm coconut curry, my greasy face, and the first cuddle with Coco - the dog I lived with in Byron Bay - felt like yesterday, but that was ten months ago now. TEN. Isn't time a strange construct? The only thing I can say is, time flies when you're having fun - this year out, in particular since November, has proved that theory to not only be a theory, but set in stone fact.

Funnily enough, I hear stories of others who are going through what I went through - job insecurity, non-ideal housing situation, struggles living with family friends, and I think, maybe this is a more common pattern than I imagined? Maybe the fairytale just isn't a fairytale, unless you're fucking loaded - which, despite the hours I worked at Christmas, is sadly not the case for me! "This time next year Rodders, we will be millionaires," so I tell myself. Lol.

You know, I called my mum this morning - Tuesday - and we spoke for the first time in around a week. Not proud of that, I love mum, but sometimes you get so caught up in work, outings, new people, a new place, and you simply don't pick up the phone. I called her, bright and early, for some odd reason my body clock decided that in this new house, i'm a 6am riser. No matter what. As the sun was coming up, I called my mum, she said how happy she was to see me happy, and I couldn't help but think back to the time where all she was was concerned for me. On calls, I never looked that happy, visually stressed, to now, where I'm like the Cheshire cat. I look at my situation like a staggered upward graph: Byron was the start, and it could only go up from there. Losing the job killed the Sydney momentum a bit, a new job and place to live was a huge upgrade. Housemates left, life became lonely in that house, energy staggered. New place of living, and eventually home time, energy up. You see the patter? Never "up then down," more so, "up then sideways" - energy never goes down, it just sometimes doesn't keep up. Either way, it is continuous growth, my mum just saying that made me rethink just how far I've come on this trip, and in many ways it made me feel good that my mum doesn't have that same concern she once did. She will always worry, mums do, but I'm smiling, and that's all she wanted.

Staying, meeting the right people, and getting a bit lucky - it's all I needed. God, I'm so grateful.

Speaking of good people, the right people, and how lucky I am, my 'offiicial' housewarming party this weekend, for which I remember 75% of it, I guess the rest is a mystery...

A big Sunday session

Sundays, not a day of rest really. Never have been. I've worked Sundays since I was, maybe, 16? Maybe even before that, in some respects. While I don't work here on a Sunday, nor have I ever, it's not a resting day. Days out, nights out, there's always something going on - in many ways, a Sunday is sort of my Saturday, because of how my work roster operates. 

Last Sunday, the one before the most recent one, was awesome. Moving in day, and that big Greek dinner I told you about, you remember? The salad was still as good as the day we made it when I had it for dinner a couple of days later. That with some microwaves Chicken & Lamb, belting. Despite us drinking into the early hours, finishing off half a crate of Peroni's, and inevitably ending the night with sobering tunes, it couldn't be remotely compared to this weekends party on a scale of 'hecticness' - I love inventing new, stupid words, because I can't be bothered to check a Thesaurus. You want me to be authentic? Well there it is.

From the start it was a pretty standard day, really. Woke up, had Italian Eggs at Maggio's, a local Italian café, a smoothie, and Espresso. Now, whenever I want both a smoothie and a coffee, there is a trade-off, and I follow one rule. Big smoothie = small coffee, no big version of both. So the go to? A smoothie, usually banana, hold the Cinnamon, and please for the love of god don't pump it full of that shit syrup stuff, make it from scratch. As well as that, an Espresso - but make sure it is good. They are strong and bitter enough. I never thought I'd jump on trends, but that bloke 'Gymskin' is right - don't burn your fucking beans. Maggio's, while I like what they're doing over there, made a bad Espresso. Doesn't stop me going in, it's busy on Sunday's, anyone who works in 'Hospo' knows standards slip on busy shifts. However, who doesn't want a good coffee? The banana smoothie made up for it, luckily. The eggs, with Sourdough, were unreal as well. 

We headed home, I was yet to shower, and the heat just decided to show up as I'm in my joggers, so now I was a greasy mess. A quick pit stop and off to the bottleshop - as, unlike the UK - you cannot buy beer off the shelf, only in dedicated stores. I had half a crate of Peroni in the fridge, but opted for a spirit - Kraken rum, not the Coffee version - was staring right at me. Rude not to. Again, from a financial perspective, stupid decision, from a party view? Incredible decision. I did later call in for another crate of beer, this time an Aussie classic, Great Northern, for which only two bottles remain from that batch. We drank a fair bit.

Party started at 1pm, only a handful of us there, then come three o'clock, most people arrived, the music got better, everyone huddled into a sort of social circle in the living room, with the odd couple in the kitchen, a couple walking round the place, etc. Standard for a house party. It's been a cold week in Sydney, and it's cold today, but would you have it, of all the days, even despite how much I complain about the weather on Sydney's Sundays, the day was perfect. A good UV - which exposed the tan mark left by my watch - lots of sun, blazing hot, and a nice breeze from the water just past the trees in front of the house we live in. North Sydney is gorgeous, and today was probably the perfect day to have a party.

I'm not sure what time I went to bed, maybe around 10pm? Before that. a trip to the kebab shop, goods secured, and i'll be honest, I don't remember much of that. That being said, even with a faded memory, getting to bed at a good time, not having any horror stories, and waking up in a relatively clean room was pretty relieving - we did good.

Mostly work friends, but also friends from other occasions too, it was with the perfect group of people. A couple who missed out, which was a shame, but to think just six or so months ago Dec was my only proper mate out here - at least my age - to this? Crazy. It really was worth the wait.

The best Sunday in a while, and a big shoutout is needed to - Georgia has welcomed me into her family home, alongside Bella, with nothing but open arms. I'm so lucky, and grateful. Plus, a shoutout to Jacob, because he makes a fucking phenomenal Potato bake. Didn't want to shout it too loudly, his head will explode! In all seriousness though, top scran.

Those city walks, and buses over the bridge

As of Tuesday, had to check that was the day, I had work on Monday morning, 12pm start, but we went in early to make sure we get a coffee. I have a new spot: it isn't local, it isn't the same as the last, but I like it. Not only because we get 50% off coffee (owned by same company), but the staff are lovely, and the sofas are so comfy. For the past two blogs, I've found myself sitting there for an hour or two wiritng about what happened in the past week. It's a cool little place, and the best part? It is right next to our work place, basically. A minutes walk at most. Perfect.

The coffee shop, or my shift, wasn't what I wanted to talk about though - it's that view that got me thinking. I mean seriously, the Opera house, Sydney's iconic skyline, the tower, the port with various military ships, the many different suburbs, and then of course you're travelling over possibly the most incredible and famous bridge in the world, the Harbour Bridge. That is my daily commute? Christ. To think this was ever a reality still baffles me every day.

Going to the city I take a bit less for granted now I live in North Sydney. I don't just go for the sake of it, and end up buying something I don't need, or pondering, but I actually have a bit of a plan for the day - nothing set in stone, more just an idea. I don't procrastinate as much, it's nice.

I just feel like lately I've appreciated Sydney more. At first, it felt like I was fighting against it - the City was against me, it didn't feel that welcoming. Everyone seemed in their own world, and it was almost as though I wasn't sure if I had a place in that. The reality is, that is how big cities are, and often you do have to get a bit lucky - however, I will just say, that with more jeopardy comes more opportunity; there are so many ways to fuck yourself up in a big city, and really get put on your arse, but at the same time there are so many opportunities to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and come out of it well. I'm glad I stuck with it, because Sydney is one hell of a city, and there aren't many better places in the world - at least from my experience. Still got a few to see yet, all being said!

I always think to what I'd say to my Uncle if we spoke about this trip. He passed before I decided to come out here, October 2024. He worked for BA (British Airways') First Class section for years, decades in the airlines industry, at a time where BA were world leaders - all the biggest stars, everyone flew BA. He was there for that. An avid traveller, enjoyer of different cultures, most notably Mexico - I always wonder what he'd think of me being here? At the same time, it guts me to think I never got to tell him any of these stories. Some days I do feel as though maybe some of his energy passed onto me, hence my love for travel. I mean, I loved it before, but Australia was always a huge step I once thought might be unattainable, at least at my age. Honestly? Fuck that mentality. If he were here, I know he'd just want me to travel, have fun, and support Manchester United - well, I can at least offer him two of those things; as for United? Not a chance in hell. 

Who knows how long this lust for travelling will last, to be honest I'm giving the longevity no thought at all - one step at a time. I know I want to come back, soon also, but firstly, I need to enjoy the time I have here, then the time I will have with family, before I think about anything else. 

Being grateful for who we have, while we have them

This blog is personal to me, you know this by now, and I will open up to you as much as I feel I can. Well, this week, we lost someone close to us, and in some way I wish to make a tribute to you, Caroline.

Speaking of my uncle before, Stuart, or as Caroline called him "Stuarty K," this week Caroline passed - unexpectedly, out of nowhere. Such a shame. It was Saturday, I was just on my way to work, at the local bus stop, when my Mum messaged and told me the news. Since being out here, I've been lucky in the fact that there hasn't been much passing in my family's life - this though, it really hurt.

Caroline wasn't family by blood, simply a family friend and former partner of my Uncle, they used to call regularly, and she looked after him, he did the same for her. A great friend for him throughout his life, I came to know her properly after a stint at the BBC for a work experience placement - she always had my back and supported me. After Stuart died, she would check in, and was again, very kind to me - relaying great stories of them both in their years at BA and beyond. When you lose someone, you don't have to lose stories of them - thankfully, Caroline was full of them. It hurt knowing I'd never get to hear a story about Stuart again from her. 

Life is fragile, and we often don't recognise that until it is too late; one message I will share is simply to message, reach out in any way, and hug those who mean a lot to you. Keep asking them for stories, listen closely, write things down, take photos - savour the moment.

It was a privilege to know Caroline, and I'm incredibly grateful for her presence in my life - she will be missed.

Give your loved ones a hug, extra tight. Be grateful for who you have. 

This weeks takeaways

This bit is always sort of tough because, in my head at least, I feel like I've been learning a lot every single week, so it almost feels difficult to sort of "dumb it down" to just one thing. 

I would probably say that this week has taught me the importance of just having fun. Say yes more. Loosen up a bit. Maybe you're tired from work, but just imagine missing out on that night out, making memories with your friends? How shit would you feel if you missed out on something special like spending time with great people. It doesn't mean go out at every asking, but for fuck sake, stop being afraid of being a little tired in the morning over having a good time with your mates. If you've got the means to go, go and do it.

Another thing, cooking with people, conversation, music, just the whole occasion, that is one of the most underrated events that can occur in your day. Not just making a proper meal, but actually talking about random shit, burning something and taking the piss out of it, deciding what last minute ingredients the dish needs, or doesn't need but you think you're a chef for a moment. That is so fun. Since moving here, I've rarely cooked alone - and I fucking love that.

We get another week closer to home time, and every day just feels awesome right now. I'm having the best time ever.

Thank you for being on this journey with me; see you next week, on Tuesday.

Have a great week,

Jamie