All rituals must end

So every night so far, until tonight that is, I've managed to make it down to the beach at 7:21pm. It's a ritual of mine - I drive home safely despite 12 km on the wrong side of the road, making left hand turns without looking at oncoming traffic all the way, using my windshield wipers in lieu of my turning signal (yup, they put that on the wrong side too). I also "Give Way" instead of "Yield"ing (Meaghan Dumas, that reference is for you if you happen to be reading. Sandy Medeiros too, wherever you are - and sorry about all the driving peril Mrs G!). During the drive I reminisce about the time I actually made it to the store before it closed at 5:30. The Australian Rock on the radio is really good. A lot of the sound is reminiscent of Duran Duran (which I only remember thanks to The Killers). That keyboard, churning rhythm guitar sound. (I gotta start bringing my notepad in the car with me so I can write down the band names.) Cool. Then I arrive at my swanky flat, grab a bite to eat, have yogurt and a cookie for dessert, and walk down 3 blocks of High Street, in a rush quite noticible to the folks eating outside at the cafes, to Bather's Beach to miss the sunset.

Yup, to miss the sunset.

Sunset occurs at 7:20pm this week. So, in typical Ev fashion (just ask Mike and Maureen who, waay too often, grow hungry waiting for me - and I only got pulled over once, no excuse the other times) I get there at 7:21, as though there are movie previews on before it that I can spare to miss. No previews, and no sun.

I've managed to find other things to do in the dark there. Check this out: Herman Melville is here. Herman Melville, who wrote my favorite novel, Moby Dick, while living in Pittsfield where I live now, a book that starts in New Bedford, where I grew up, is also in Fremantle Australia on Bather's Beach 3 blocks from my flat. Amazing. I didn't remember this passage:

"That great America on the other side of the sphere, Australia, was given to the enlightened world by the whaleman. After its first blunder-born discovery by a Dutchman, all other ships long shunned these shores as pestiferously barbarous; but the whale-ship touched there. The whale-ship is the true mother of that now mighty colony."

Cool.

Another time I grabbed a post-dusk, $16 bowl of what they call in Australia "Deluxe Chowder" which in Boston we call "A friggin huge bowl of chowda" - man they talk funny down here. (I started taking pictures of my food which I decided it must looks less crazy than sitting there talking to myself about how good it is and "where are the dolphins?" (That really was a magical moment, haven't seen a dolphin since.)) I believe the seafood is all local. Maybe Lloyd can help me out here but this chowder was mussels, scallops, shrimp, crab, and calamari. I'd like to have it again, but I'd also like to not eat the same thing every day even if it is exquisite. Just like I'm not going to footie every weekend, even though it's a great sport and one I think all American sports nuts would love. No, I have other ideas like seeing the Quokka, a tiny (and friendly) marsupial, which almost exclusively exists on Rottnest Island.

Cool.

Just like tonight, I didn't miss the sunset. Even though I've had great chowda, found a famous paison, and met fellow sunset missers from all around the globe. Tonight I wanted to do something I hadn't done yet.

I experienced the sunset over the Indian Ocean. It's kind of a cool sunset to see, I've been thinking. Remember Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead (Conrad)? It's the Tom Stoppard play about 2 crazy characters from Shakespeare's Hamlet. Well, the premise is every exit from the stage in a play is an entrance onto another stage in another play. Similarly, every sunset is a sunrise somewhere else. Being on the opposite side of the world, the sun I see setting is the same sun rising on my home, my friends, my family. We are sharing the same day, as I watch the sun set on my Thursday, the sun is rising on all of you on your Thursday. Our Thursday.

It was exquisite. I might do it again.

Cool.