Thursday, 7 November 2013

Iddon Links

How to spend the day?  I knew what was happening at 5pm.  A meeting had been arranged with a fellow genealogy researcher who shared my maiden name.  Her ancestors came from the same area as mine but so far we had not found the Hidden Iddon link.  It's out there though, I know it.

Sticking to a historical theme, we strolled down to the Barracks Museum.  We just viewed it from the outside.  It's not that we are mean, we just have priorities.  The priority today was to rub the lucky nose of the dog statue outside The Mint in the hope that some coins might come our way.  It must have been related to the one in the Moscow Underground.  Well, that one brought us luck.  

There was the National Library and it had Wifi.  We connected immediately.  No need to buy a Big Mac here then grumble about weight gain and no connection.  

We took a stroll in Hyde Park.  Yes, they have one here too.  We walked up to and inside the ANZAC memorial.  This is a fitting tribute to all those who lost their lives in defence of freedom for their country.  It did not glorify war.  It was a place for contemplation and peace.

We walked a considerable distance on this very hot day.  I felt no qualms in consuming a double scoop icecream in darling Darling Harbour.  Once again, we were struck by the relaxed, family atmosphere.  

An area had been set aside to celebrate the Latino culture.  Food and craft stalls plus a large stage where musicians belted out Samba music.  A lady in a fluorescent green dress was in the mode, writhing in a sexually explicit manner.  I resisted the urge to join her as I didn't want to show her up.

A little essential shopping was in order.  The Oral B had been squeezed beyond an inch of its life.  I was sorry but it was not going to accompany us on our trip to New Zealand.  The bathroom bin would be its final destination.  Ahhh.  I can't believe that.  You all just felt sorry for an empty toothpaste tube!!  We replaced it with two tubes of Colgate (on offer of course)

My second notebook was filling fast, so we found a stationery shop (e as in envelope.  That's the way to spell it). Hubby wanted a pen.  He practised with several.  It seemed like hundreds.  Then we had a debate about prices.  On this occasion I let him win as I quite liked his pen.  It would soon find its way into my bag.

We had just enough time to return to our hotel to change before our rendezvous.  We would not be looking for a man with a pink carnation.  Today it was a man in a black TT cap from the Isle of Man and my 'cousin' Carol.  Five o'clock came and went.  Dave wasn't worried.  He was watching a group of Samba dancers in their skimpy costumes.  They had more on their heads than anywhere else.  

I knew we were in the right place.  Outside the Chinese Gardens.  So many people passed by wearing black caps.  Had they seen us, thought we looked a bit dodgy, so they moved swiftly on??  I didn't think so.  After all, Carol was bringing a copy of her book, the completion of all her hard work on her family history.  She wouldn't let me down and she didn't.

Her train had been running late.  She had tried to contact me on Facebook but I had no reception then.  Alls well that ends well.  As soon as I saw her, I knew we must be related.  She reminded me so much of one of my cousins, not only in looks but in mannerisms too.  She also held the fierce pride in the family name that I have in my heart too.

Her friend Mark was soon chatting away to Hubby.  This meant Carol and I could blether away to our hearts' content about family history.  Carol came to Australia with her parents as part of the £10 Pom scheme.  How brave of them to take that step into the virtual unknown.  There was no such thing as Google Earth and Wikipedia in those days to check things out.

We walked through the harbour to find the Welcome Wall.  Carol had not seen the inscription organised by her brother to commemorate their family's arrival.  We found the special names she was searching for.  She fought back the tears as she remembered her late parents.  We had some special 'family' photographs there.

Time for refreshments.  Saturday night seemed to be 'Hens and Bucks' night.  They were all having a good time, many of them in fancy dress.  Superman, ghouls, skeletons, French waitresses and  Barbie dolls tottered around.  Wearing high wedges and stilettos, some of the young women were falling over on the harbour docks before they'd even had a drink.

We eventually found an empty corner in a bar.  Talking was difficult.  Rephrase that.  Talking was fine.  Hearing was difficult.  Still we managed to quench our thirst and share some information.  

Stomachs were rumbling.  We went in search of food.  Nothing seemed to suit our palate or budget until Mark had the brilliant idea to visit Chinatown.  This was one place we hadn't seen.

Vibrant colours and enticing smells.  We chose our respective meals and talks resumed.  So much to say and so little time to say it.  

Time for one last drink together on an Aussie pub.  What's different?  Well, the gambling certainly is.  Horse racing, dog racing, trotting.  The walls were filled with screens showing live events or the betting odds.  It goes on for 24 hours a day.  Oh and there were Hubby's favourites-the pokies, or slot machines as we know them.  

The busy day was taking its toll.  Like Little Weed, I started to droop.  We had a hectic day ahead and I knew Carol had been up early.  Handshakes, hugs and kisses.  Goodbyes for now but not forever x

1 comment:

  1. Hi D and T been following the blog since getting back from France sent you email via hotmail Dave and what a great blog it is Trish really enjoyed reading it Thinking of you both Luv Mick and Lynn note keeps telling me this msg contains illegal characters