I’m going to be in a spot of trouble after this post, as this was my last day in Bathurst for about ten days, and during the first half of that I had to rely on my old phone and my father’s camera to take pictures. I was also working pretty much all day and not doing much in the way of adventure (boo, I know). So there may be photos and there may not be. If I can’t find anything here with me in Bathurst, I’ll upload the missing time when I go back to Tumut.
Yep, everyone can go back to their cubicles. The building is not on fire, I repeat, well, you heard me the first time, the second time I’m still going to be talking crap, let’s get on with this!
The plan was to spend a week in Tumut finalising details for the book launch, then have the book launch, come back to Bathurst, and move into our new place. This had to be timed perfectly so that I could bring Sax with me to finally live in Bathurst (yeey!) and co-ordinate that with signing the lease. Since I left Ryan earlier in the week (and came back) I was very handily already packed, and so didn’t have to worry about organising my stuff before we moved. That made things simpler, and also made time for a hike around Boundary Road Reserve, which backs onto the university at the foot of Mount Panorama.
Although since we’re looking down at Bathurst, I suppose the university is really on the belly bulge of Mount Pan, and not the foot.
Along the way, we found this interesting fruit:
Labyrinth apple! We found a whole tree of them, and they made me look so photogenic that Ryan took this picture:
All of the photogenes.
Back at the old place, the rain was setting in, so I took this opportunity to get one last picture (actually I took two, but this is the first and it’s the best), with the Coles sign lit up such a romantic shade of neon red in the background (note the pigeons living in the ‘e’), our door there to the left, the many mysterious buildings which were occasionally inhabited by other people, the good old 1920s plumbing clinging to the second storey redbrick wall… ah, I miss that place.
Isn’t it a beauty? Although what I don’t miss is the construction crews working anywhere from 5.30am right through to 2am the next day on the pharmacy downstairs, the bank next door and the road out front, with their jack-hammers and angle-grinders and hammers and profuse swearing. I won’t miss the ticking of the pedestrian crossing down the street, which at 1am changes from a quiet background noise to a symphany of violent discord. I won’t miss the blaring honk of the world’s ATM right below us. I won’t miss the drunks wandering from the many pubs at all hours, that one guy who played Evanescence at full ball from his car, all windows down, every day at 5pm regardless of the time of year, as he cruised down the laneway. I won’t miss any of that. But I will miss the grand old apartment, and its views and its sunsets and its pigeons. Plus it was really, really close to the shops.
To celebrate our time in the old place (or something something) we had a few friends over for a game of Munchkin. This is a long and strange game, and looks something like this:
Goodbye, old place! We had so much fun in you! I hope your new owners don’t burn you down like pretty much all the others aside from us did!