tales from an ordinary world

2002-01-16b

One day, about 8 or 9 years ago, I set out from my parent's house in Glen Waverley. It's mid-morning, cloudy but bright, and armed with my walkman and a heap of tapes I just start walking. Westward, towards my favourite retreat near the freeway and the hill up to Blackburn Road (nowadays it's covered in housing, I think), but before I get there I swing around to the north, through parks and vaguely familiar streets and suddenly I'm at Syndal station. Heartened by my progress, I move on into unfamiliar territory, across High Street Road (yes, it's really called that) and further north, and there's hidden paddocks and oddly-shaped streets and now I'm at the Burwood Highway, tram tracks and multiple lanes, and it's sunny, and I dash across the road before oncoming traffic, stopping at a milk bar for a drink and a breather. There's nothing to do but keep moving. Eventually I find myself in Box Hill shopping centre. My feet start to hurt, and I hop on a train to Nunawading, where I discover there's no bus running today. I sit outside a milk bar just near the station, drinking a lifetime of liquid while I wait for my incredulous sister to arrive.

At work the next day, they laughed at my sunburn said "you did what ? Whatever for ?" Not too long afterwards, I invested in some half-decent walking shoes, but I never got around to doing this kind of thing again.