Friday 3^rd August

It feels like only a few minutes since last Friday, although I would have thought the days were limping along at a pedestrian pace.  (As, incidentally, am I limping…I hobbled up to North Hobart on Wednesday after work and eagle-eyed Elsa said, “Is that a HOBBLE??”  Yes indeed… My feet are killing me!  Pauline, equally eagle-eyed and sharp of mind, asked me if I had my wonderful life-saving cushioning orthotics in my walking shoes.  “Of course I have,” I replied, a bit snootily.  “And how long since you got new ones?”  Well…ummm…maybe eleven years… And my poor feet have pounded many MANY kilometres since last I saw Narelle, my wonderful podiatrist… So I (not so sharp of mind…why on earth didn’t I make the connection between sore feet and possibly worn-out orthotics??) have made an appointment and soon I will be springing around the streets with new cushioning innersoles!  Not a hobble to be seen!)

Last Friday I went to the bus stop with laden shopping bags – the new inner-city supermarket is very tempting and I now usually find myself too laden with ingredients to be able to walk up the hill to Pete’s.  It was very cold and dark and the silent, patient queue had quite a long wait for the bus.  But we had a lovely time because, sitting on a bench near the bus stop was a small, sprightly old Japanese man, who sat and strummed on a weird instrument which looked like a cross between an icecream bucket and a long-necked guitar.  And as he strummed, he sang a very long idiosyncratic version of…House of the Rising Sun!  He wasn’t busking, but as he packed up his instrument, we could all see that he had a money-pouch in the instrument case.  About five women in the bus went up to thank him for the music, and to give him $2.  He was very tickled and beamed at us all, and said, “I am so glad you liked my music!” as he strolled off.

It was such a nice experience, and it made me realise I miss all of the activity on public transport in other parts of the world.  In Santiago there is always someone singing on a crowded bus, or playing a CD, hoping to sell a few copies.  In Mexico City people got on and off the metro and the buses every few stops, with all manner of things to sell, all manner of performances to entertain the commuters.  Jugglers, musicians, acrobats, lollies, icecreams, maps, CDs, books – and everything was diez pesos, ie not very much money…Pete and I were fascinated to see that one of the biggest selling items, in fact selling like hot cakes, was (diez pesos) copies of the Mexican Constitution.  In fine print on thin paper… Men were buying it and sitting very keenly reading choice bits aloud to their wives.  Why??  It certainly didn’t look like easy reading…

Maybe it is more peaceful riding on the comfortable big buses to West Hobart, without people trying to sell me CDs, lollies, legal tomes.  But I certainly did enjoy my House of the Rising Sun moment last week.