In need of some magic

Where’s the magic gone? I hope that I find it tonight at Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince in concert. Right now I’m not feeling it.

Outside the panoramic windows of the Opera House is black and bright lights. The giant floodlit P&O cruise ship is still dwarfed by the outlines of the Harbour Bridge painted in blue light to support the NSW State of Origin team. Beneath it, ferries and other boats chug past as a series of bright rectangles. In the background, the ride of Luna Park flash and dazzle.

Oh how I’ve fantasised about holidays beginning like this. The trip to the city at night, the stay at the airport hotel, grabbing last minute goods for the journey.

The reality is far harsher. Honestly, if you told me I could go straight home to my own bed I’d be happy. It would still be a holiday, away from all the other tasks that pollute everyday life.

After a beautiful clear sky today the bureau is forecasting high winds tomorrow and there’s a turbulent jetstream on the map. I’m still feeling nervous.

I walk B and Alex down to their gate this morning, waiting for their delayed first flight to Melbourne to taxi away as the sky turned from dark, to dawn orange then clear blue.

Once they are off I check out a few of the shops, but it is getting late and I want to make some use of the hotel. A few work tasks on the computer, then maybe half an hour of sleep, lost from waking at 5. 15 am.

My car is blocked in the hotel’s basement car park, so I have to get the concierge to move it before driving out. I entertain the idea of going to Westfield Miranda to look for a swimsuit and other items, but the road changes send me straight back home.

Bring in the washing, clean up, switch off the computers, repack. Now I have to race to the bus.

The sky is clear, the day is warm, the wind is light, the roads quiet. What if I just left the house on a day like this I have wondered before. Now that day is here I am just feeling anxious, wishing I am not on this bus, on this train.

The Rydges Hotel at Sydney Airport has messed up my reservation, thinks I have booked the 17th. Except I have the confirmation email on my phone. It is sorted out.

No time to rest. I am hungry, then not. Vietnamese rice paper rolls will suffice for now. The shops don’t have what I want.

Sadly there is no time to rest and relax in the hotel. I have a concert to go to at the Opera House and I want to buy a few things first.

I catch a train to Town Hall, hit the adventure stores, Muji, have chicken namban for dinner, stop at Rebel Sport to buy some swimming togs, speed walk to Circular Quay and the Sydney Opera House, hoping to catch the pre-concert talk mentioned in their email.

Except there is no talk and the place is virtually deserted. I have an hour to wait.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince in Concert is excellent, but I can’t shake the disquiet I feel. I need some magic spell (though not Apparate as that apparently is quite an uncomfortable way to travel).

In the interval I use the Flightradar24 app to watch B and Alex’s Jetstar flight land in Singapore two hours late. They try to call me on Hangouts, but the concert is still on and I don’t get to talk to them until I am stepping back into my hotel room at the airport.

I notice QF1 leaving very, very late to Singapore. My own flight is scheduled for 10 am tomorrow, too early for a good sleep in. Hopefully I’ll still feel better about it in the morning. Time to sleep now.

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