Traditions
We stumbled out of the cafe into the warm sunshine. Mid-morning on Monday, we had just handed in our keys to the agent, I was almost an hour late for work. Despite being so close to the city, the street was calm. It always seemed so odd to me, the fact that Burton Street can be so quiet and peaceful and yet so close to the heart of the Sydney gay nightlife. So odd and yet so convenient, I could pick and choose which speed I wanted simply by walking a hundred metres. We had reached the end; the end of living together, the end of having Burton Street as our address, the end of twenty-four hour convenience in walking distance, the end of other people having to live with my abrupt moodswings. Time for me to start afresh, on my own, in a completely different part of the city, to find my own new traditions.
But before that happened, I went out and celebrated a few of my favourite Darlinghurst traditions...
1. Dinner at Dov
I had stolen the van from work and was driving ST and DB home. The news of Heath filming on Forbes Street on the weekend had me anxious about the move and ST suggested we do the move now, on Friday night, to avoid Heath. A good idea, and ST had a few more of those that night during the move, it just meant that I was leaving Darlinghurst a day earlier than expected. Besides, ST was planning a huge night out that Friday, he probably just wanted to not have to help me out hungover.
Thursday night was the last night I would spend at Burton Street and I didn't even know that it would be. It's like that event needed to be celebrated somehow and the opportunity to do that was taken from me. But the rationale couldn't be argued with; moving on Friday night was a good idea. I had enlisted ST and the van for my heavy-duty stuff, the stuff that I couldn't possibly do on my own and, with the help of DB to open doors, it went rather quickly. Luckily for me I'm now living on the ground floor (elevated slightly) so there were no large stairwells to deal with. ST and DB, upon seeing my new place for the first time, reacted quite favourably and commented on the lovely floorboards, the large amount of space that I have, and my new *Bohemian Lifestyle*, whatever that means. Good to hear that, I felt reassured and less anxious about the move.
We headed back to Burton Street to have dinner on me, as planned by me (albeit a day early) and unbeknownst to my *Tactical Response Group*. And besides, I think I owed it to DB to have dinner there with her and not abandon her a few hours later at a club. I think I also owed it to myself to keep a good fish in my stomach and not throw it up later on. I had tried the Marlin, which was delicious, big and meaty, and I wanted a proper go instead of snatching small bites off someone else's. ST ordered the same thing and enjoyed it too. DB chose a chicken schnitzel instead of her usual lamb. We also had a nice tasty chardonnay which DB enjoyed despite admitting to not usually liking the stuff (she's more of a Merlot kind of girl)
Dov is such a familiar comfortable place for me now. The exposed stone walls are so beautiful and the lights are usually set at a very comfortable dimness yet still able to discern your grub and your company. The food is pretty good and they have the best soy latte that I've had in Sydney. Most of the staff are familiar to me as well, which is nice. It's going to be hard to find another cafe like that at my new place.
