It was a hot day today and the bus I catch from work starts at the beach, before wending its way through various light industrial areas en route to Newtown. You know what, half a bus full of boisterous post-beach youngsters and half a bus full of full of tired workers, not a natural marriage. I had a good first day at my new job, but I was kind of brain dead with information overload when I got on the bus.
So I was kind of cranky when I had to ask a young guy to move his bag so I could sit, but then when I realised he was a German backpacker and the girl sitting opposite him was a young Canadian staying at the same backpacker hostel, I couldn't help but listen in. It was interesting (and at times frustrating) to listen to two youngsters from overseas talk about the shortcomings of a summer Christmas. I wanted to say "look, I know you can't get the turkey you want" and "yes, it's stinking hot" and "no, fruitcake is not 'weird' or 'gross', even if it doesn't rate against the 'empire cookies' your Grammie makes".
Of course I didn't, but I nearly did nearly laugh out loud when the young girl was scratching at her scalp at said "Sand is, like, ridiculous."
Ah yes, the ridiculousness of sand.
It must be kind of weird to be away from home and having a completely different sort of experience. I mean, we're primed for the concept of a cold Christmas by generations of traditional wintery Christmas imagery, but I would still find a cold Christmas a strange experience. Christmas day without sweating under the airconditioner going full blast? That's ridiculous.