The Travelling Story: Meander Entry

Alan and I approached last weekend with mixed feelings.

You see, about a month ago, Donovan told me that he was intending to invite his friends around for a cocktail party on Saturday 21 June. Having grown up in an environment where costume parties are a norm, Donny loves encouraging his crazy and artistically inventive posse to dress up to a theme whenever an opportunity presents itself. He decided this time it would be The Mad Hatters Boston Tea and Cocktail Party, as I love watching people arrive in their ingenious and often bizarre creations I was looking forward to this portion of the evening.

But Donny's parties also mean music like Miles Davies’ 'Agharta' & John Coltrane’s 'Ascension'. Some parents fear the distorted sounds of loud electric guitars and the heavy pulsation of programmed drumming. Other parents put up with the repetitious rapping of senseless 'In da Club' like compositions. Donny’s parents dread his free jazz collection. There was no way I was going to be able to sit in bed reading The Significance and Benefits of Six Syllable Mantra Recitation with Miles and John soaking in through the walls. Not even the thought of lovely warm flannel pyjamas and Alan next to me poring over The Lonely Planet's Guide to Vietnam could tempt me – I needed to … flee. Check out why http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YpPraEdnKjY

But where would the Travelling Children go? Alan and I are not night birds in any shape or form. Even in our 20s we never understood the pleasure of getting dressed up to go out for a drink at places that come alive with music, mood lighting and mounting intoxication at sundown. Night clubs were and remain even more a never-to-attempt-again hazard. We checked all the movie houses and found nothing we seriously wanted to see - we had to laugh at ourselves and acknowledge yet again that we are a pretty boring old couple.

So what do we take pleasure in? For example the night before, warmly rugged up, we had driven with bolsters and an extra blanket to Nollamara for our much desired meditation and dharma fix. As part of our ritual, we floated over to McDonald's for milkshakes on our way home – Siddhartha type world music playing in the car. Then before the sun had risen on Saturday, Alan and I were dressed and ready to head out in that general direction again … Ikea for breakfast, of course, followed by a meander around Sweden’s gift to mankind. Hand in hand, Alan and I love to people-watch as we pick up items like serviettes and candles at lelong (sale) prices. Of course for us no Saturday

morning outing is complete without a visit to some Indian or hippie inspired establishment. We generally roam around until after lunch and then head home where Alan brews us Illy or Lavazza cappuccinos – and we sit on our front deck and watch the birds and clouds in shared contentment. I think you get the picture … what we love doing is generally humdrum.

It was 8.15pm

Donny’s guests were beginning to arrive … Alan and I looked at each other and to use a family favourite line from Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna, we knew it was 'Time to go'.

We sat in the car and Alan asked me for the umpteenth time what we should do. My mind was still a void. 'Avoid, yaar' - yet another line we had freely adopted from Hindi movies - was the only thing that came to me. With a tinge of aggravation, Alan suggested we head out to the little Vietnamese restaurant in Northbridge – I immediately agreed, relieved at his brilliant proposal. Alan is really getting into Vietnamese food these days with all the excitement of our up-coming trip to Vietnam and Cambodia. Our friends Nga and Kevin had taken us to a little place on Brisbane Street a few months ago as Nga decided it was her duty to instruct us on how and what to order when we were in Saigon. Since that detailed introduction to Vietnamese cuisine, where she actually wrote down dishes we could order and made me practice pronouncing the very foreign sounding names, the tasty varieties of pho has very quickly become a family favourite.

And so over steaming bowls of delicious pho, Alan and I held our heads as we slurped up the noodles and fresh herbs, planning our Indochina holiday – Johnny Depp’s Pirates of the Caribbean quietly flashing in the background on the two high wall-mounted TV sets. Unfortunately for us, the service at this fabulous little eating-house is always super-efficient and so our dinner was over and done with before too long.

Sitting again in the car, we opted for the longest route home, along our favourite drive down Stirling Highway. We reminisced nostalgically about how it has not changed (much) at all in the 21 years that we have had the pleasure of night driving along it on our way back into Fremantle. From there we took to the side-streets through and around our beloved port city - as always it left us feeling immensely grateful that we live right next door to such an amazingly culture-rich and exceptional place. Our decision to live in Coogee came about mainly so we could be close to Fremantle and the ocean.

Alan and I kept talking and laughing until it dawned on us - we were nearly home … oh dear … what to do? Alan suggested a tour through the neighbourhood starting with a drive past Sam’s parents' home. Ridiculous but well, why not! We drove past the Tomeo's … the lights were all off so we decided to speculate that they had gone to a party or a wedding. I wondered if Nadia, Sam and the kids were also invited and what Nadia (and Hubble growing within her) had eaten for dinner.

We turned around the corner at Barking Dog House with Veranda … the poor slightly deranged and very scary animal had long since moved on to his next life, yet the name had stuck with that house. Alan has often had to remind me that even the owners had changed since I first starting calling it by that name. Onward we went past Take and Put Garden – a chaotically planted garden tended by an old Italian couple whose plants absolutely thrived despite all the confusion; past Sloping Block That Never Sold and a little further up on the corner to Gi-normous House (aka Pee House as one could conveniently stop for a pee there, at least until they put the cyclone fence around it). Gi-normous House has been five, maybe even six years in the making but is still sadly only a shell. We went past Our Lady of Perpetual Succour Church Replica, past The Gingerbread House (I’m telling you this house is right out of Brothers Grimm), past Astro Turf Lawn and around through a loop road past Christmas Lights House. Alan commented that a new home had come up in that loop and said we had to come back during the day to check it out. We turned at Chinese Cactus White House and went around again – peering through the lighted windows at whatever was visible in the rooms of homes we have grown fond of and took comfort in for we have walked and driven past them for 16 years now.

Finally – we had to go home. Donny's party was in full swing; we said our hellos and then retired into the study.

On my computer, I began downloading Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader. India’s very entertaining version is hosted by the Baadshah, Shah Rukh Khan. It was a celebrity episode and we were looking forward to enjoying it together.

Alan next to me, signed