So as I flew into Sydney early yesterday morning for a brief visit to my birth city, I had only one thing on my mind... it was not (I am sorry to say) how beautifully blue the sky was, the way the Bridge dominates the image of the city spread out below, or the glory of the sunlight as it glints off that sexy and seductive Harbour. It was also not the friendly faces of family and loved ones that would be beaming a happy welcome at the gates as I made my flying visit. Nor was it the question of wether the airline had managed to deliver both me and my bags to the specified terminal. In addition to this, it was also not how balmy the temperatures were after weeks of dry, dusty and smoke-haze filled days in my ravaged-yet-still-beautiful-adoptive-home-town-Melbourne.
It was however, something that is of as much personal importance to me as all of the above. Breakfast. The one simple thing that was on my mind was where in all the loveliness of this tart of a city was I going to go for breakfast after months of being away?
Where was the one place that I could relax into this short trip, enjoy good food, good service and a comforting view? The answer was... quite personal... and it was everything I wanted it to be.
But my question now is, how is it that after years of living in another city and state, when I have people and places to catch up on and only a short amount of time to do it, when the weather is playing to my every whim and tempting me to make the most of the sunshine- how is it that in all of this, the first question on my mind is 'what new places are there that have popped up to eat since I was last here...?'
If my waiting family knew what was really on my mind- oh the shame... the shame... and then the suggestions of where they should take me first for breakfast.
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