A wet day today. We woke to rain, it rained all day and now as night falls it’s still raining. I needed to pack today since I’m off to Sydney tomorrow, but first I decided to fit in a walk to see the beach in the rain.
It was somewhat early when I set out – around 8:30 am – and there were few other walkers, and no one else with umbrellas like myself. The rain was weak but steady, and the temperature cool. I headed to Mereweather, dodging puddles and observing that even on such a comparatively bleak day the sky in Australia is painfully bright. The storm water drains ran quick with rainwater.
I reached Dixon Park Beach with the intent of walking to Merewether Baths but at the sea’s edge the wind was powerful and I feared it would take my umbrella. The rain down on the sand was almost parallel to the ground and I gave up trying to keep my shoes and socks try. I popped into the public loo at the Dixon Park surf club and an elderly man stood naked inside, obviously changing after a swim. It was a confronting site, and only afterwards did I think that if he had indeed been swimming he was the only one. I was getting hungry.
I had intended to take the Anzac Walk for some lofty views of rain-soaked Newcastle but the wind and a rare moment of self-preservation due to my exhaustion changed my mind. I headed back to Darby street and walked toward the city. A gaggle of lightly dressed girls ran past. Were they joggers? In this weather? I took a brief break under an awning to tighten my belt since the bottom third of my pants were now soaked and they were falling down. I was getting tired.
Darby Street is anathema to me: cafe after cafe after cafe. What city needs so many in close proximity? I crossed the street to admire the gigantic Bob Hawke mural and take another brief break under cover since the rain had now picked up. A bit further on I stopped at Cooks Hill Books and bought nothing, in part because the owner clearly disapproved of my umbrella. I own too many books anyway.
Some sort of market was happening at Civic Park. Food and craft sellers huddled in their tents as the rain lashed down. There were no customers that I could see. I stood under a tree watching a kookaburra play in a muddy puddle as I tried to remember which building adjacent to the park was used in a Superman film. I was hungry and tired.
I walked to Hunter Street and headed west, following in my footsteps from… last week? It was very wet now, everything from my knees down was sodden. I flipped a mental coin and it came up Colonel Sanders so I traipsed in and repeated an identical order from last week. The cashier was either incompetent or an idiot and needed help from two others before i received my food. I sat and ate my burger and lukewarm chips without vim, as a homeless man garbled nonsense at me and then with strange clarity called me ‘professor’. I ignored him and left.
I went to Marketown and bought chocolate and a single breadroll. My intention was to save the chocolate for the plane but I knew that would never happen. I resisted the urge to grab a frozen coke (it would just make me pee in this weather) and continued on to Beaumont Street and then back to mums. I returned about two and a half hours after I had left, with a full belly and clothes I very much hope will dry before I need to pack them.
An uneventful walk perhaps, but another very nostalgic one for me. Every day like this is a day in the life of me that never left Australia. Now and then, that’s not such a bad thing.
