So, am sitting here in a coffee shop at Coolangatta Airport, which serves the Gold Coast in Queensland. Am almost delirious as it isn't raining! Before me lie meetings and interiews with three Marathon veterans, and a leisurely drive down the coast back to Sydney, which should see me back at Bondi sometime on Wednesday. Will pick up a rental car shortly, wrestle with my sat nav and drive on to meet the first two guys I will interogate.
Since my last missive I have covered some distance... after the rather fraught attempts to resolve my broadband access problems, which saw me riding a bus back and forth between Bondi Beach to Bondi Junction like some kind of demented public-transport nut, I finally managed to sort things out, and am back online. The roads in and around Bondi are astonishingly busy at all times of the day, as if rush hour begins at dawn and only begins to ease late in the evening. I think it's a universal condition that whenever a city experiences heavy rain-fall, its inhabitants jump in their cars and drive somwhere, anywhere!
Picked up a rental car at Sydney Airport, and drove through what seemed like a never-ending length of tunnels out to Glenwood in the north west suburbs of Sydney to have dinner with my friend Kim - she had previously warned me that the girls were very excited about my visit, and she had also arranged partner and friend to be present to hear about my 'marathon' mission. A lovely evening was spent nattering over dinner and a plentiful supply of wine (thanks guys!) and having my laundry done for me into the bargain (eternally grateful!). I retired to the shocking pink boudoir that is four year old Jasmine's bedroom - I now want a Finding Nemo night-light - and no doubt frightened everyone in the house with my glass-splintering snoring. Up early, quick coffee and farewell to these kind and generous folks, ad then set off for the four hour drive to Wingen (look it up!) in NSW, where one Max Stahl resides. Max - what an extraordinary man. One of a three man team in a big Mercedes in 1968, he was also a prolific motorsports journalist and successful competitions driver, and what he doesn't know about the history of Aussie motorsports just ain't worth knowing. He has been exceptionally helpful and generous these past ten months, so having the opportunity to meet with him in person was a treat. A fascinating drive, through small towns and green countryside peppered with those glorious 'pub hotels', all verandas, balconies and ornate pillars, nearly 200 miles later I arrived at my destination, a tiny settlement beyond the town of Scone. A warm welcome was received, Mrs. Stahl busy in the kitchen rustling up lunch for us, and away we went into Max's 'den', where has a vast archive of documentation cataloguing his working life and more. Now the thing about my previous contact with Max is that he had pretty much provided all the information there could be about his experience in 1968, yet there was absolutely no way I was going to pass up the chance to sit and natter with him (and he did say, he'd have offended if I'd chosen not to see him!). We spent the time reviewing stories and memories he had previosuly provided, trawling through his files so I could copy anything of interest (a vast treasure trove!) and checking on who else I could approach while I'm here. He really has gone the extra mile to facilitate contact with other marathoniers, so I now have two folks to see in Melbourne, and possibly three! Amusingly (and not for the first time), references were made to the ship crossing from Bombay to Perth, whereby there are stories and incidents that will never be shared! That voyage would make a book in its own right! A lovely and much welcome lunch, and a lrge number of document cipies later, I thanked them both and set off back to Sydney - strange how four hours on a motorway can be mind-numbing, but four hours following a mostly two lane, fast but winding road through alien landscape can pass by so quickly. Home to bed, before starting again this morning at 4.45am.
Have to confess it's good to be out of Sydney for no other reason than the rain is saturating everyone's spirits as well as the ground. Moind you, from what I could see this morning driving to the airport, last night's Mardi Gras was still evident with bedraggled, be-costumed revellers meandering home after a night on the town (etc!). At 5.00 in the morning, the sight of a skinny-hipped young man wandering along the pavement wearing nothing but a pair of red 'hot-pants', plus red horns and a red forked tail had me chuckling all the way to the car rental drop off!
As I wrte I suspect the city street cleaning department is hard at work hosing away layers of glitter and sparkle from Sydney's streets!
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