Happy Aussieversary!

Today is our first anniversary of arriving in Sydney.  I can't believe it's been a year already, but in some ways, it feels like we have been here for much longer.  We feel settled, if not yet fully established.  We have a good social circle, a flat (sorry, a unit), routines, (second) jobs.  We agreed that we would have a date night on each anniversary and discuss if we wanted to stay, but we knew months ago that we were both game for another year.  I think there are two primary reasons for that.

The first is our neighbourhood, Surry Hills.  We love it.  I am happy every day when I walk out my door onto Reservoir Street.  It's everything I want a neighbourhood to be: central, walkable, multicultural, charming, characterful, but not sanitised.  There are cocktail bars and restaurants, upscale and downscale galleries, and gays galore.  But there's also social housing, backpackers, dive bars and legal brothels.  I am happy here like I have only ever been in Chelsea and Clerkenwell.  My spirit feels uplifted walking these streets.

The second is that my greatest fear did not materialise.  Shortly before we left London, I shared this quote with my friend Mike to highlight my angst:

A melancholy lesson of advancing years is the realisation that you can’t make old friends.

- Christopher Hitchens

To which, proving he is wise as well as handsome, he responded:

"You can't make old friends" implies that deep, meaningful friendships can only be formed over time and new friends lack depth. Sweetie, I’ll take quality over quantity any day. I’ve lost so many friends over the years for various reasons: death, changing geography, changing paths, disappointments, growing up, bending with the road. Over time people change and grow. But there are new shared experiences with new people, who offer fresh perspectives, new energy. Just look at you & Larry and how you became fast friends over the shared event at the World Trade Center.  Old friends have a special place in our hearts, but the idea that we can’t make old friends overlooks the potential for meaningful connections with new people. Friendships form at any stage in life.

And he was right.  We have met a solid group of friends in our first year here.  There's not the same level of casual understanding that comes with having shared years of life with someone, but we have found some of our people, and we do not feel socially bereft.  We feel like we fit; we feel at home.  At 51, this is a blessing.

So a bonza first year.  Here's to year two!

G'day,

Shaun

Even the Fountain of Youth runs dry eventually...Sushil turned 40 last month!  We celebrated in a properly middle-aged way, renting a villa in Koh Samui, Thailand.  We had a week of good food, friends, cocktails and massages.  But very few hangovers, and even several good naps.

Cheers to the birthday boy man!

We had a few Londoners - Leslie, Craig and Johnny - join us on the island.

A highlight of the week: we had a personal chef come to the villa to make us lunch.  The som tum?  Was delish!

Sushil and Leslie worked off lunch with a vigorous game of water polo.

Contemplating life in a new decade.

Back in Sydney, Autumn has fallen on Surry Hills.

My belovéd Reservoir Street.  When Sushil and I were walking down it on 17 July last year to see the first flat on our list of viewings, I remember telling him 'This is exactly the kind of street I want to live on here.'  And that's the flat we took.

We had a long weekend in Adelaide, the capital of South Australia.  It's known for being a gentle, planned city, having the second-largest Fringe after Edinburgh, and, most importantly, having the best wine regions in Australia in its hinterland.

Napa or McLaren Vale?

Adelaide has fantastic wine bars to go with the fantastic wine - and the perfect weather for a cosy jumper and a glass of red.

Shaun H. Coley ~ Surry Hills ~ Sydney, NSW ~ Australia

Shadows of 9/11

As you most likely know, I was living in New York on 9/11.  I was meant to be on jury duty downtown, but due to being held over on Monday, I got to go in late on Tuesday.  I was about to turn off NY1 and leave my apartment when the news broke, so instead I was safe in my apartment way uptown.  That didn't make it any less awful.

In the years immediately after, I watched all the documentaries and TV specials about it, I even had a 9/11 pictorial.  I think it was a way of trying to work through the enormity, the disbelief of what had happened.  Sometime in my early London years that changed.  I no longer watch or read anything on 9/11.  I don't need to.  And I don't need to feel the way it would make me feel again.

I am not sure exactly when it was, but I do remember what shifted my perspective on 9/11.  I was watching a documentary called 9/11: The Falling Man, where they were trying to identify the person in that wrenching photo.  The show eventually identifies the man, but it explores several false leads and their stories along the way.  One of those was a man whose wife was working in the North Tower.  He was able to rule his wife out from being the falling person from other photos of her jumping from the tower.  When the documentary maker asked him how he could be sure those photos were of her, he responded:

“I know it's her because the clothes and the shape. I would know her from her shadow.”

I would know her from her shadow.

Before that, 9/11 had been about the event for me - the enormous monstrosity of what had happened to my city.  But with that line, for the first time I understood what had really been lost.  The intimacy, the love that was taken away that day.  I felt it in my chest.

So today, on the 25th anniversary, there will doubtlessly be all manner of tributes, documentaries and analyses.  I will avoid all of it.  It's enough for me to remember all the shadows.

I ♥️ NY,

Shaun

Shaun H. Coley ~ Surry Hills ~ Sydney, NSW ~ Australia