Old and new, trendy and tacky, all coexists and get by just fine
The heat in the air incriculating my skin, the heat from the burning concrete... and young girls with sun-umbrellas escaping the burn
Sitting at a street stall for lunch on a wooden stall with its paint peeled off - smell of garlic, aniseed and coriander steaming by, or was that a barbequed chicken heart kebab
Stray dogs barking tirelessly at the traffic, or the cat that stole its lunch
Incense streaming by from a nearby shrine to a local god
Old ladies yelling at their neighbours about the latest gossip - My grandson got better in the exam than yours
Sullen bus drivers patronisingly accepting your coins and tells you to move to the back
Passing by power poles underneath the shades of the copper trees and being thankful for a sip of sharp cold ice lemon tea
On 16 November 2005
1 comment:
it's the smells that make NZ home for me. As soon as i escaped the airport in wellington, i could smell, over top of the fumes from the Taxi stand. The dampness... hugging me closely, Wellington's cold humidity welcomed me home.
As the shuttle cruised past evan's bay at 2am, there was salty tang that wasn't there in melbourne or even Sydney.
but gosh, i'd go back just for more sushi.
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