faded and groovy or grotty

I went with Sal to the airport this afternoon and ran back home as she left for a few days in Brsbane. I ran home, a varied run that took in a lap of Centennial Park, the Opera House and Harbour Bridge, Balls Head reserve and the mo-fo bastard of a hill coming up from there. A decent 30km training run in my warm up for both the City to Surf and the Sydney Marathon. Though that's not the subject of this entry.

The day had started, after the walk with Rowlf, wiht breakfast at the Lemon Twist cafe in Surrey Hills. Been there a couple of times before and realy like it. The theme is lemons, the decor is made up as went along, the place fills up pretty quickly and has a nice buzz, but most important - the coffee and the food are good. No, most important is that the place has been established in a way that sees it stand apart from the crowd and it leaves the oldish (lets face it, nothing built is old in Sydney) building alone. The building has a faded comfiness that I like. I'm not a fan of homegenised, sterlised building and clean crisp lines. I've started picking eateries on the look and feel of the building. It is no an exact science and it is by no means without exception. But I definitely do it. I've just come to realise - or maybe just come to verbalise - it. I guess I've done the same for years, specially with pubs. You can stick your big beer-barns. Free Houses and country pubs for me.

On that...Sal and I went out for dinner wiht Kylie (work colleague) and Paul (hubby) on Friday night. Off of the wagon for a spell, and ariving early as I did, I decided I'd have a loosener. In days gone by I would have gone into the Stoned Crow (we were having dinner in Crows Nest.) It was a grotty hole of a place, as I recall. I was in there on an occassion when it was raided, the kids kicked out and the place closed for the night. On another occassion I overheard a slurred conversation between two iffy geezers; one was telling the other how he never hit his missus when she didn't deserve it. Charming. But it was a great pub, full of character. In my opinion.

Sadly not in the opinion of others, and what stands in it's place, still bearing the name, is a bland gastro-pub indistinguishable from bland gastro pubs the world over. So I gave it a wide bearth and had my loosener at the decidedly more pubby looking pub at the top of the street, The Crows Nest Hotel. Far better, but still pretty ordinary if I compare it to the drinkeries in Blighty, or places like The Pallisades Hotel, possibly my favourite Sydney pub, probably because it is largely unmolested and usually empty when I'm there.

Back to today. The first part of the run from the airport took me past your typical near-to-an-airport hotch-potch of light industry, airport services, car rental yards and dodgy chop-shops and, surprisingly enough, the odd ramshackle house or two. It's a mix I find intersting (fascinating would be a stretch.) On from there I went past homemaker shopping villages and some neater looking light industry before coming to large blocks of new apartments where, for me, it all started going pear shaped. A wall of insipid blandness that, once through, gave way to an intersting mix of faded federation houses and warehouses, stone cottages and narrow lanes. Far better. I am fairly sure people will not look back on blocks of "Meriton Apartments" in 100 years time and view them with fondness. I am more sure they won't last that long. Whereas the building the Lemon Twist cafe sits in just might be there in 2108...

Where I not so knckered I'd go on to tell you about the East End of London. Maybe some other time...