Sydney to London Without a Plane by Lorna_North

Humble Abode

A lot has happened since I finished my last work placement. The girls go to Thailand in a few days but the more I prepared for my departure, the less I felt ready to leave this city. I've only skimmed Sydney's surface and haven't seen it during summer, at it's most vibrant. So I decided to stay another six months and postpone my epic journey a bit. It's not exactly easy to get into this country, I might as well use my visa.

 

So as the tenancy on our flat would be over when the girls left, I needed somewhere to live. I started to trawl the websites for an available room, close to the beach, furnished and free of axe murderers and psychos.

 

 I went to look at one place on Monday night. I found it on the gumtree website and a few things attracted me to it. It was well located, the rent was the lowest I had found for a room and not a parking space and the advert had a personal touch. 

 

It said things like "you are not just a room filler" and "we want someone to enjoy a drink with". It was as effective as those old conscription campaigns that promoted the war. It was like the advert turned into a picture of a sincere looking fellow pointing his finger at me: "This house share wants you!" I knew this flat was my calling. 

 

I went to see it on the coldest night I have experienced during this Sydney winter so far. After getting lost several times I finally found the right road and pressed my frozen finger onto the buzzer. Once I spiralled up the stair case and tentatively approached the open door I was met by a bright breezy girl about my age who welcomed me in and introduced me to her equally buoyant partner. 

 

These were to be my new housemates and they were everything I had imagined from the advert. I was also enticed by the smell of spag bol simmering on the stove and the free flow of red wine. It was friendly and cosy and I felt like a sparrow with a crippled wing that had been found by caring humans and placed in a shoe box lined with shredded paper.

 

They seemed relieved too that I wasn't of a mental disposition. Despite the cold I wasn't wearing my straight jacket when I met them.

 

You have to walk through the lounge in order to get to the bedroom and a thin glass door is all that divorces it from the communal area making privacy a somewhat neglected quality. 

 

There was no wardrobe and limp looking bits of material hung from the windows pretending to be curtains like a tragic drag queen posing as a glamorous Hollywood star. The bedroom was scarcely bigger than a matchbox with bare brick walls making it freezing in the winter and stifling in the summer.

 

 It was no Hilton but it certainly had character and charm and lets not forget, I have been sleeping on a roll out sofa bed for three months. What joy to have a door and walls.

 

"I'll take it."