23.9.67
Sydney
Re
above date: just got a very overdue letter (dated 13/9/67) which had come via
Manhattan. [The hotel, not the island.]
And me mother was very sarcastic
about putting on the dates!
Well,
this will be the last letter you get before I arrive home; you’ll already know
about my coming because I’ve just sent you a telegram. Am going to stay with
Marge – have a feeling Glenda’s rather booked up – there’s 3 of them staying
there just now. So I’ll be spending another night in danger of being eaten
alive (with love) by Judy. [Marge’s dog.]
Spent
most of yesterday in town. Incidentally heard from Pikler who was very sorry to
say he couldn’t be of any help – I think he was a wee bit nonplussed when I
didn’t sound put-down. I’m rather relieved in a way. Things could have got very
complicated if I’d stayed on here. I’ down to my last $10!
 |
| ANZAC War Memorial |
Went to
the Museum yesterday, but since it’s mainly a natural history one I wasn’t
madly enthused – I’d much rather see animals alive than stuffed. Then went into
Hyde Park which is just across the road and watched some elderly men playing
chess and draughts on little tables with the squares already marked out. The
great big War Memorial is there too.
Then
went and had a haircut. Well -----!!! When I came out I must have smelt as
though I’d been dunked in a perfume-cum-hair-oil barrel. [These were the days when NZ men were men – as far as haircuts went. You
went to the barber for your short back and sides and no frills, thank you.]
First
he thoroughly wet my hair, then he razor-cut a lot of it (and scissored) then
he cottonwoolled on some lather round the edges and razored that very
precisely, then he stuck some rather stinging stuff on, then he dried it all
again. Then he talcum-powdered (!) round the edge, then he oiled it a bit ---
YUKK! And when he’d finished (80c later) it looked much the same as ever!
Still, I at least felt that I’d got my 80c worth! [2018: The prices in these letters seem extraordinarily low…now.]
After
this I decided to get something for Anne and the kids and during the course of
this I so lost you wouldn’t believe
it. Not that it was as bad as in the cemetery, but I’d go into an arcade and
come out at a different angel, then have to go to a corner to find which street
I was in, then have try and figure
out whether I was above or below such and such another street, then I’d got
into another arcade and come out in a tiny little street that led back to where
I started! AAAGH!!!
In the
end I got Anne some flowers; they’ll arrive on Monday; what a job to think of
something she’d like. Still, they’re always acceptable, I think. [2018: I don’t think I paid her anything for
staying with her for a week or so…such is the ignorance of youth. This youth,
anyway.] I got Chris a couple of packets of stamps – one mixed and the
other a set of cats from Poland. They’re delightful. And I got Jenny a pretty
pink vase – she’s quite keen on china and whatnots.
Then
home exhausted.
Watched
2 films (in a row) last nite: one
called Dragonwyck, about Gene Tierney
who goes to act as governess for Vincent Price in a huge mansion, then later
marries him when his first wife dies. Supposed to be very horrific, but only
that in about 2 places when a supposed ghost sings and plays on a harpsichord –
but only a certain number of people hear her. Well done, though.
The
other was Life Begins at 8.30, about
an elderly actor who has taken to drink (Monty Woolley) and whose daughter (Ida
Lupino) is torn between him and Cornel Wilde (a composer, again!). It was very
funny, in spots, very warm, very human
(!) But quite well done. [Not sure what
the point of the italics are in that last sentence…] Originally based on an
Emlyn Williams play, but I don’t think there was much left of it. I also had
the uncanny feeling of having seen it before – but the name doesn’t mean
anything. Certain scenes and shots looked surprisingly familiar.
So,
lots of love until I see yuh,
Mike
(xxx to Fred).
This is the last letter in the series.
