We all agreed that Colleen aged much more graciously than her two fellow-bankers.
Forty-eight years ago, we - John, Colleen, and yours truly - all worked together in the same bank and in the same branch; forty-eight years later we all had lunch (and several drinks) together in the same club, Sydney's harbourside Kirribilli Club.
Of course, I had met up with John twice before and we also have our regular 'phone-ins', but it was the first time in forty-eight years that I had seen Colleen again. I recognised her immediately by her lovely smile but I had to click my heels and bow from the waist down several times before she recognised me and gave me a big hug. Just as well you didn't do it forty-eight years ago, Colleen, or I'd never left the bank! ☺
We talked and then we talked some more about the good old days, about old friends and the boarding-house we all lived in. We may even have told the same story twice which is the other good thing about growing old: we've forgotten what we said before as have the people we said it to. (Did I really write 'the other good thing about growing old' ? As soon as I remember what the other good thing is, I'll let you know.)
We finished our long, four-hour lunch over coffee and a piece of Rocky Road which was kind of symbolic because those forty-eight years have been a rocky road but, thankfully, we're still here to talk about it.
Thanks, John and Colleen, for a lovely time! I'll tell you in another blog about the rest of my time in 'the foetid air and gritty of the dusty, dirty city' as it'll take me some time to catch up on my sleep and then collect my thoughts but here's a quick preview of what I thought about Sydney: "Not much!"
P.S. Click here for John's final comments.
