adventures of the honeymooning scribe

[adelaidesean]

Holidays are impossible to sum up, but I'd like to give it a whirl because we had a particularly good trip and the attempt will help me remember it.*

I've tried to capture some important facets of the trip in words. No more than a sentence or two, both lowlights and highlights (considerably more of the latter, I'm pleased to say), and in no particular order:

Friends, food and a small amount of business.
Thanks to George Walkley, Julia Gosling, Ellen Datlow, Richard Curtis, Ginjer Buchanan and John Douglas, Keith Clayton, Scott Westerfeld and Justine Larbalestier and a bunch of Amanda's wonderful friends for taking time out of their busy schedules to hang with us.

Wedded bliss.
Obviously. :-)

"Reacher said nothing."
Discovering Lee Child's stylish and accomplished thrillers, which everyone else in the world seems to love too, so there's no shortage of new books to read when flights are delayed, you're stuck in a queue, or just feeling lazy.

Saturn Returns.
On the shelves and looking good in the US and the UK. Hurrah!

Water, water everywhere.
Ireland is an alien planet. Seriously. I wish they'd send some down here.

Two new Sean Williamses.
One booked a car on the same day we went to Connemara; the other did something terrible in Virginia, almost preventing me from entering the US.

The lovers, the dreamers.
Hearing a muzak version of "The Rainbow Connection" in the Qantas lounge in Hong Kong and having the song in my head all the way to Heathrow.

Molecular gastronomy.
Haute cuisine by chemistry nerds at WD~50, one of New York's finest restaurants.

Being a tourist in Manhattan.
The Chrysler Building. The Rockefeller Building. The subways. Cental Station. The Museum of Modern Art. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. The Museum of the City of New York. The Frick Collection. The Cloisters. Forty Tryon Park. Central Park. Union Square. Soho. Little Italy. Sundry restaurants, patisseries, coffee shops and bars. Chinatown. Fantastic Planet.

Being a writer in Manhattan.
All of the above, of course, plus Central Booking, City Hall, NYU Hospital and 74th Street. And maintaining 1500 words a day, no matter what.

Flight of the Conchords.
Two New Zealanders trying to make it big in New York, courtesy of HBO. Comedy gold.

Sweet silence.
The death of my faithful Sony noise-cancelling headphones, requiring immediate replacement with a set of yummy Bose QuietComfort 2s.

A close encounter with the future President of the United Republic of Australasia.
Sitting behind Natasha Stott-Despoja on the last leg home, but being too embarrassed to say hello because I hadn't slept, shaved or showered for thirty-six hours. (And because it would've been weird, damn it.)

A common complaint.
British Airways losing my luggage for a week then returning it damaged. Being either stuck on the tarmac without taking off or stacked overhead unable to land. Missing connections, constantly. Given a choice, really, who'd fly any more (except possibly by airship)?

Home.
Coming back to winter (which I love), our wonderful house (ditto), and a horror double deadline (that I'm frankly not so keen on).

It's all good. :-)

* Since I consistently failed to bring my camera with me, anywhere, I have very few snaps to jog my failing memory. Also, tearsxintherain told me I had to blog about it, and I always do what she says. :-)

Comments

[ladnews.livejournal.com]

Hee hee. My pleasure. Blame the Hong Kong Qantas lounge!