I make fairly regular Sunday jaunts to the city, ostensibly to meet up with Ann after she finishes work, but also to take in the city. There is something quite liberating about not having any particular reason to move in a given direction, not being held to any schedule nor being answerable to any authority. To some extent this is mental trickery, for of course I may not really have the free will to do anything at all but make a choice from a predetermined list.

Strolling through the Haymarket end of George St on a Sunday is not a sleepy occupation, for Sydney nowadays pulses with people and activity. Shops are open and new construction is everywhere. Arcade entrances disgorge shoppers and tourists vie with the homeless for a slice of the pavement. In so many ways I am reminded of a bustling metropolis like Osaka, not only because of the prevalence of Asian faces, but also the pedestrian traffic, the variety of eateries, the burgeoning little spaces in laneways, the different voices.

Later that afternoon Ann and I went to my favourite Thai noddle bar, Do Dee Paidang, which lives across the road from Paddy's Markets. In the past I have made the mistake of ordering a level 1 or 2 noodle bowl, indicative of the spiciness of the dish. Not today. The photo below shows me with a nursery-level bowl. The King Of Thailand watches benignly from on high.