Sydney

The ship has docked in Sydney harbour officials have come and gone now the ship is eerily silent, yet noisy slamming of doors and someone taking a shower…laughter. How can I sleep tonight with the engine stopped? How can I read and not hear human bravura? Sod it all, someone strums a guitar, and I hear the fizzing sound of canned beer flipped open. No this can´t go on better go ashore, a bar, drink a few schooners, try joining the hubbub of man at ease and not think of the sea, dolphins blue, white crested waves and the hum of the sea goddess, that teases me for my cowardice for not taking the plunge and be as beautiful as the seascape of my impossible dreams. Easy, tomorrow will be a mundane Tuesday and we, if the dockers do not strike, should be bound for Brisbane where the beer tastes the same, of amalgamated breweries. Yet, despite my lack of fine culture, I saw Sidney opera house casting dignified light into the bay…