skyring

Here I am in Perth. Predawn after an evening chasing the sunset from Canberra to Adelaide and then into a very black and empty west. Most of that must have been over water - the Great Australian Bight, to be precise - but I couldn't see anything. The moon, the fingernail sliver of a moon had held the sun's tale down under the horizon, and there was nothing outside. How the pilots navigated us through that vast blackness is a mystery.

Inside I was happy, so long as they kept the spiced tomato juice coming. One of the music channels was playing every San Francisco song ever written and i was happy to listen. Qantas now flies into SF three times a week and this was one of their ways of marking the occasion.

Me, I was happy to relax and listen and remember that lovely city.

Spent a half hour in the wrong spot with other wrong-spotters waiting for the shuttle, and by the time I eventually made my hostel it was eleven o'clock, and that's early morning to my Canberra body, so I rolled into bed and began snoring.

Today I look into the art galler a few blocks away, meet the local BookCrossers for lunch and then have a shufti at Fremantle. Tomorrow is a day of travel back across the continent - daylight this time - and a few minutes shy of midnight I'll be catching Cathay Pacific for the redeye to Hong Kong.

So don't expect much sense out of me for a while!