Friday, September 11, 2009

Love, On The 28th Floor

When I'm not working as a yarn enabler at one of my two part-time jobs, I'm working behind the scenes doing a huge file archiving project in a major bank. Earlier this week I was yanked out of the battery hen hell-hole cube farm situated two train rides from home, and relocated to the rarefied corridors of power that is the city Head Office.

Where tea rooms are not some vending machine, a microwave and the ubiquitous Zip Boil instant hot water 'system'. Oh no, funky colours, modernist furniture, mood lighting and floor to ceiling picture windows are the name of the game in the 'Break Out Rooms'. (Seriously, the way that they look like some queen's efforts on Top Design they should be called Come Out Rooms.)

Yesterday was my first day, and I took the advice of one of the guys I'm working with and tootled up to the small cafeteria on the 28th floor to get lunch. I remember thinking how gorgeous the view was, but it was actually this morning when I went to get my coffee that it really hit me. OMG.

Firstly it's a vertigo sufferer's nightmare because the huge picture windows go almost all the way to the ground, but to those of us who aren't bothered by heights (weird, for someone so short?) it offers an amazing view. An entire corner of plate glass windows with a view that sweeps from the Harbour and across Woolloomooloo and Kings Cross. Nearly 180 degrees.

This morning I felt like I fell in love all over again with this city I chose to call home 20 years ago! (In fact next month is my anniversary.) While my passably good coffee was being made, I stood transfixed looking out over the Botanic Gardens and across the top of the arches of the Opera House to the glittering harbour. Today was one of those perfect Spring days Sydney does so well, and as I was watching the morning sun hit the water and a harbour ferry stitch a silver lame line across the water I thought I could burst. Maybe it was just all the glitter.

It was a completely different view of the city than I'm accustomed to. Looking down from Where The Money Is, across rooftops with surprising lap pools and little gardens, watching people amble through the Botanic Gardens or ride a ferry across the water. I wanted to play hookey so bad. Nothing reminds you more of how stunning this city is than getting up, way above the grimy trains and the casual rudeness. The scourges of pretty much all big cities.

Back at ground level I was making my way home tonight, at dusk, through my favourite 'off lead' doggie park and I was still feeling the love. There was a definite Spring vibe in the air, people out with their dogs enjoying the lengthening twilight, kids in tow, small groups of people sitting on the grass chatting and having a drink. Feisty little terriers and bemused large dogs seemed to be everywhere.

You know what, even the train ride home wasn't so bad.

3 comments:

lyndell said...

tee hee - I know just what you mean though ... when the harbour has her sequins on and is all a-twinkle it makes you remember why we live here despite everything else :-)

Victor said...

I felt much the same when I took an impromptu ferry trip from Circular Quay to Balmain/Darling Harbour and return on Thursday. The city seemed magical.

The Other Andrew said...

There's something in the air, isn't there? The promise of summer I think!