It's A Wonderful Life

Today was truly chock-a-block full of life.

It was the day that my dear friend Paul and I had arranged, some weeks ago, to catch up, post-Humbug.

After each of us having braved holiday-timetable transport and meeting at Central station, we decided that a caffeinated beverage was in order, so we strolled down Pitt St.

Sadly, being Boxing Day, while the streets were filled with bargain hunters, hoping to recoup some of the dosh they'd jettisoned over the last couple of weeks by sacrificing yet more to the post Bah Humbug "sales", few cafes were open.

We eventually found some vaguely acceptable coffee in The Rocks.

While we rehydrated, Paul extracted details of my recent history, by means of an anecdote regarding a fellow-Teutonic acquaintance of his, who is apparently equally reticent regarding the details of his personal life.

We then made our way to the Powerhouse Museum, discussing the sad state of current urban architecture along the way.

Since neither of us had been to the museum for quite some time, the exhibits were generally interesting. Unfortunately(?), we'd not thought to pack any anti-nausea medication, so carefully avoided the "Diana" exhibition :-).

After a nice cuppa in the museum's tea room (including some rather stale cakes), we parted company across the road from Central station.

I jumped on a bus to the cinema complex in George St, hoping to catch the new instalment of National Treasure. However, the queues were longer than a wet weekend.

I figured this was likely to be an indication of the density of sweaty, noisy patrons in the theatre, so decided to give it a miss until another day.

I continued my perambulations, eventually arriving at the James Squire Brewhouse at King St Wharf.

I spent a number of hours there, enjoying a degustation menu of Jim's fine brews (including a couple I'd not come across before), matched to a smorgasbord of vicarious familial experiences ... it was quite lovely to see the number of young kiddies running around the restaurant, having a damned fine time.

Of course, I can only imagine the thoughts going through the minds of any parents who may have noticed the follicularly-challenged Bad Santa admiring their youngsters :-).

Having worked my way through a pint of each beer available on tap, I reluctantly departed for home.

All in all, a wonderful day!