Saturday, July 12, 2008

Day 9 To Newcastle

We caught the Tube from Paddington to Kings Cross without a problem, although it was a slow trip. We had some breakfast at a cafe near Kings Cross and at that point I realised I had left the electric plug adaptor back at the hotel. How easy will it be in Newcastle to buy a plug to convert Australian plugs to UK plugs? As it was, we did come across them later and some that said they were but clearly were not. As it was, when R's bro in law was in Australia, he bought hair clippers and so took home an Aussie adaptor so he could use them in the UK. So important to have an adapter now.

2 phones, 1 camera, 1 electric razor, 2 electric toothbrushes all need power.

The train left on time and was comfortable and fast and full. As mentioned before, we prebooked the train for $28 each. Had we bought the tickets that day, the price would have been $198 each. More confusion and fuss over seating when people sat in the wrong seats. An elderly lady with a loud voice was sitting near to us. She starting talking and did not stop until she left the train. I can tell you all about her life. I heard she was getting off at Darlington. How far is that I asked R. About ten minutes before Newcastle. Damn.

Before we left Oz, R spoke to the alienated sister and told her if we were travelling half way around the world to see her, the least she could do is forget about family differences and turn up at the station to meet us, along with the other two sisters. K did, with her her husband J. If you remember, the wedding planners, us, arranged their wedding in Sydney when they visited a couple of years age.

Hugs and smiles by all on the railway platform and I met the remaining sister L who I had not met and her husband D who my R had gone to primary school with. We were going to their place for a bit of a party and they invited the alienated sister K and husband J back too. So far so good. The party started on L and D's back decking and continued from early afternoon to late at night. Once again, I got sunburnt. Various family members arrive at different times along with umpteen kids. Gifts from Oz were given out. Then the scotch came out and I love scotch. It soon knocked me sideways. L tried gently and carefully steering me upstairs. R intervened and dragged me up. The party continued on till dawn without me.


The huge and sprawling Metro Shopping Centre in the Tyne River valley in between houses at the rear of L and D's house.
L and D's very typically English back garden.

10 comments:

  1. "Then the scotch came out and I love scotch."

    Ditto...hic.

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  2. I do like that garden.

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  3. Sounds like a fun time was had by all, alienated rellies included!
    Scotch and the Scots have a tendency to knock people sideways :P

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  4. yes it's a lovely garden and I think that pole-mounted Gnome might be Bwca's uncle.

    Adaptors should be in communal bins at Customs - take one when arriving, leave it when departing
    ( if any of us were really serious about recycling).

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  5. Two lousy duty free litres and they have gone already Brian.

    Pretty kitch by our standards Robert.

    And never call a Scot Scotch unless he has had some scotch.

    Nice bit of lateral thinking Bwca. How could we make money from it?

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  6. Orderly, methodical.

    I have a jumbled mind.

    (craving neatness)

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  7. I think you mean kitsch.

    The gnome is kitsch.

    But remember, what is kitsch to you and me is camp art to our betters (very popular -for a laugh). Academe lady bloggers celebrate it all the time, just to show their superority, sophisitication, and our poor ignorance.

    "Kitsch is vicarious experience and faked sensations. Kitsch changes according to style, but remains always the same. Kitsch is the epitome of all that is spurious in the life of our times." —Clement Greenberg.

    Wooh! Nails down the latte set, wouldn't you say?

    Nothing changes.

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  8. I can't stand tree-less or big gardens, unless they're public. That said, I have a big garden...one which I dare not tame for risk of being assaulted by whatever lurks out there.

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  9. I'm Australian Robert. I don't do foreign words. But now that you have publicly corrected me, kitsch is in the eye of the beholder. I like some kitsch.

    I agree Reuben, gardens must have trees to frame them.

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  10. that gnome is not kitsch, St.Gnome is the Patron Saint of Gardeners, and in a garden you are closer to God ...

    A gnome can be the uncle of a bwca, or of a boggart.
    Messy gardens rarely have gnomes.

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