Ghostgarden Part 2

Welcome back, faithful followers. I've been a bit biased with my posts lately, always mentioning "we" as if I was speaking for both of us. Well no. Someone has kindly offered to finish the Ghostgarden post off with a nice little ending. Alright, it was 'cause I forced him to. Make of that, what you will. And now, ladies and gentlemen, with no further ado, I give you, Ghostgarden, Part 2:

Rathbourne Lodge, a rundown sandstone hut. A piece of Sydney's heritage in between the Palm Grove Centre and no-man’s land.

It was the place to be, if you could find it.

She looked like she was going to explode; you can feel her taking in deep breaths warming up her lungs, ready to unleash hell on some poor unsuspecting kiosk stand girl. Luckily for everyone she was too exhausted from the walk. She needed a minute to catch her breath. I interrupted her just as she was about to speak, cutting her off, ‘Hi there, yes we’d like a gps for two, please.’

Kiosk girl informed us that there was a queue and that if we wanted to wait we’d be placed at the bottom of this queue. What choice did we have? ‘Sign us up’ I said.This didn’t help the situation at all. If anything, all it did was help fuel her rage. I didn’t expect her to say anything after all my negotiating but she couldn’t help herself. All I was doing was delaying the inevitable. I stepped aside for the other culture hungry patrons. Unexpectedly she was right up there face to face with kiosk girl. All I heard was ‘DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK US TO FIND THIS PLACE? WHY WEREN’T THERE ANY SIGNS?’ …

The rest of it was a blur, like I was in some kind of wind tunnel and the voices were just echoing in the distance. She can be vicious if provoked; I stood aside making friendly, helpless gestures at the rest of the people unfortunate enough to be witnessing this scene. ‘I don’t know her’, a shrug of the shoulders and slight pouting of the lower lips said. ‘I’m a friendly non-rage-aholic kind of guy’, a warm smile, tilting of the head said. Needless to say I was mortified. I managed to pull her away from the kiosk.

‘Feel better?’ I asked.
‘Much, well someone has to tell these people what they’re doing wrong’ she said, loud enough for the other patrons to hear.

We walked away to wait. The temperature started to cool. We rested in the shade of some great old oak tree, like the nature lovers and conservationists that we were. A calm breeze swept over us, lying on my nine dollars and ninety five cents picnic rug we were totally at one with nature. Peace and serenity at last. Well except for all the ants and itchy grass and falling leaves, ‘get off the rug ya damn ant! And don’t even think about bringing your friends here as well.’ I said as I tossed him off into the distance somewhere. Now where were we? Ah yes, one with nature. After a calming break, we were summoned, chosen if you will.

After about 45 minutes, we finally secured ourselves some gps devices.
Hats, sunnies, headphones, gps...

‘Parasol, where’s that parasol?'
‘Purple parasol, got it.’
‘That’s better.’

With everything locked and loaded, we were ready to go.

‘What are we doing again?’
‘Walking around for about an hour.’
‘Oh right…didn’t we just do that?’
‘Yes but this time we’ve got a gps and a story to go along with it.’
‘Yay’ I exclaimed, ‘I like stories.’

Oh don't encourage him.

Ghostgarden Part 1

In the outskirts of the Royal Botanic Gardens, we ask directions to Rathbourne Lodge. You would think that would be simple enough. Yes, we had tried, unsuccessfully looking for it numerous times on the map. But the bleeding place wasn't listed, nor even freaking signposted. And when that failed, we were forced to ask someone, god forbid. So we tried this British chick, thinking, hey, she's been sitting here for hours, surely she would know? She points us in the general direction, saying there's a left and then a right.

We're walking a while, not seeming to get anywhere. Spotting this couple, carrying what we were seeking, we accost them, demanding to know where they got those devices from. The guy says, why, it's just on the other side of the fernery. We're surrounded by fernery ya fool. Alright, calm diddly down.

We go on our way, coming to a fork in the road. Giving directions is a dying art form. We take our chances and walk through rainforest and grasslands, becoming increasingly frustrated by the heat and the lack of signage and people who can give proper directions. Finally we come to this restaurant, where I just had to ask this woman where the hell is this Rathbourne Lodge, as politely as I could manage.

Well she'll show us, she says. It's just through that way. Alright, that's it. If we don't find this god damn son of a bitch place in the next minute we're fucking going home.

And there she was. A little kiosk with a few people. We came all the way for this? God, I'm gonna give someone a piece of my mind, that's for god damn sure.

Norita - a hidden gem

We were walking down the street in the city, around the Spanish Quarter... it was around 4:30pm in the afternoon... looking to the left I spotted this sign... "Norita - Cafe and Board Games". What the hell? Is that for real? There wasn't any other signage on the place... so with some trepidation, ready to run down the stairs at any minute in case we were wrong, we go upstairs... following this simple red banner leading the way. Half way up I was thinking, geez, what if it's a japanese sex shop in disguise? Well that wouldn't be so bad, would it?

Why, what a lovely surprise... a red and black glowing doorway leading into this beautifully furbished type of living room, with old style double seaters situated opposite wooden tables, and soft crystal chandeliers... it's just like some hidden getaway. There were teens and twenty-somethings enjoying board games, coffee and conversation, someone having a smoke in the corner... and this professional photography guy ready to artistically photoshop anyone who was game enough to have their picture taken.

I didn't know a place like this existed, it was literally a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment. And board games? What a concept. For a small fee, you could take your pick from the games menu.

Waitress: (after seeing Homer's creased up failed mazes on the floor)
Another placemat sir?
Homer: (dignified) Please

So we whiled away the half hour with a challenging game of Guess Who. Ah, the koreans. Is there anything they can't do?