Only in Darwin

As much as I wanted to be home this weekend, going out to brunch with my friends, hanging out with the cat, going to see Blarney and Barney on Sunday night, I rather like my weekends in Darwin. 

For one, I don't have to do any housework. Never a bad thing. 

Then there's the access to a swimming pool. I love being in the water, whether it be in the hotel swimming pool or down at the wave pool. It's nice to be able to go for a swim without having to plan it. Swimming is my main exercise when I'm up here. It's too hot to walk before about 6.30 p.m or after 8 a.m. The humidity at the moment is terrible. 

I love that I have an apartment to myself, which feels a bit like home. 

And I have my little rituals, like having a pedicure and buying a book in the independent book shop down the mall, because it feels good.

Today, on my visit down the mall, after my ritual aqua aerobics class, and a chat with some French tourists on the walk back to a favourite cafe for breakfast, then the relaxing pedicure where I read my book, I found myself chatting to the fellow in front of me as I was purchasing a book. 

We started talking about a book of postcards filled with disappointing affirmations - things like " Accept yourself for the hot mess that you are," and "There's nothing you can't do. As long as it doesn't have to be any good," and "Just be yourself. But not your real self. No one wants to see that shit."

The book had to be bought. 

He had to buy one too. He's a comedian and does a thing on affirmations - and he too thought it was a necessary buy. 

We had a chat about Darwin, and some of the good things about. The friendliness of the locals being the main thing. 

He asked why I was up here. I explained about being a corporate FIFO who wrote for a living, and how I liked finding local things to do where I could meet other people. 

He then said that he ran a bar, where they had a Silent Book Group and that might be up my alley.

"Funny that - I already have a ticket. I'll be there on Wednesday. "

It's a small world. 

And yes, I know I'm fortunate that I'll talk to anybody and everybody, but it was a bit of a cosmic kick to me to know I'm doing the right thing in going. I mean, sitting around silently reading for an hour with a group of other people I don't know, phone off, across the road from where I'm staying. Sounds like a good thing. 

I'm wondering if I could set one up in Melbourne....

Today's song: