12th Sept 1967 (probably) - Audition

Undated, as usual, but postmarked the 12^th. A Tuesday.

Well, dear old mother, Things are slowly sifting along. Today was A-DAY (audition day) and Crowl duly went along. But let me start from the beginning.

John Hammond

This morning I woke up feeling just a trifle panicky about not having been able to do any practice for nearly a week, so rather than do it blind and practice on the bench-top in my room (which I tried!) I scouted round to see if I could get a studio. Well, I looked through all the likely places in the Pink pages, and finished up ringing Palings, a big music store. I knew from passing that they were a large place, but they didn’t have any now, so I was probably a few years too late! However, they suggested (at my request) ringing the Conservatorium, but they couldn’t help either. They suggested Ricordi’s, who did have one. So I screamed in and booked it. They’re on the 5^th floor on a place in Pitt St, and like the Chess Club building it’s a very old (and slightly sleazy) place. But they had a piano! So I John Hammond (who apparently played correspondence chess with Dad quite a bit). In spite of the name, he’s some sort of European (a ‘semi-millionaire’ according to Cecil) and anyway, he very kindly gave me the name of a guy who is very up in the music world, with his (Hammond’s) card. So!
walked fairly solidly (in about 150 degrees heat) and then went and had lunch with Cecil and a friend of his,

Next, (after another free lunch!) I returned to K.C., and spent the next half-hour or so getting nervously ready, (including pressing my suit pants!) Actually, at that stage I wasn’t greatly concerned about anything; the music had gone all right at the practice, so I wasn’t very worried. BUT!, I soon got to be! Anyway, I got round to the Trust (about 10 minutes’ walk) and found my way to Mr Oxenbold (who turned out to be much younger than expected) and he directed me to a studio. By this time I didn’t feel like practising, but I warmed up (ha! ha!) a bit and fiddled about till they came for me. [This may have been Moffatt Oxenbould, later the artistic director of Opera Australia.]

Three men in long, tall suits arrived – Mr Hall, Mr Bynel, and Mr King.  (The first two are producers) (the other a not very good conductor – according to Anne). They asked me to play something I was comfortable in (!) and so I whipped into the Beethoven. But I don’t think it was terribly inspired. Anyway, they stopped me before (after some effort) I’d finished it and plunked three horrible scores down in front of me – in quick succession. First Trovatore, a snaky soprano area which I started, and was asked to take faster! Well, I ploughed thru that. Then, (ho! ho!) (but I didn’t tell them till after that I knew it) Fledermaus. The Czardas, to be precise, which I also had to start again, because I played an incorrect note that I seem to recall playing for a while back in ’66! Then, ugh, ugh, the most fiendishly fast baritone aria that Mozart ever wrote, from Giovanni – Presto (multissimo) (it might as well be) – well, we didn’t get on too well (like the Trovatore, I already had a fair idea how it went) but we finished it; it’s a louse. (The baritone in NZ sang it in Italian because he couldn’t manage it in English!) Don’t suppose that would have mattered anyway. [This was toured in 1965, if I have my facts right, along with Trovatore. I ushered at His Majesty’s for at least one performance. Coincidentally, as I retype this, I’m just working my way through the score of Don Giovanni, including that notorious Presto, in preparation for Opera Otago’s production in August 2018.] 

Well, after that, they walked and left me to gather up my shattered nerves! (Sorry about all the “!”s, but life’s full of them just now!) BUT, Stephen Hall said he’d like to see me in about half an hour’s time, so I went and had some coffee, not really caring what the outcome was, but slowly gathering back my calm! One hour later I finally got hold of him again, and he was surprisingly encouraging.

He reckoned that I’d got ‘quite a lot of talent’!!!!!! So I modestly said, ‘Yes, I knew that already,’ ‘what else is new?’[I’m not even sure whether this is a joke, but I hope it is.] Anyway, after a small chat, (wherein he took down quite a few details) he asked me if I’d come back in a couple of days, when he’ll get some others to hear me – so, that seems to be reasonable. He sez it’s unlikely that I’d get any work until next year (which I’d expected) but he reckons that there’s limitless opportunities for coaches if wanted, and all in all he was quite nice, in spite of the fiasco. He reckoned, in fact, that I coped fairly well with the music, because I didn’t take one look at it and go – ‘Oooh!’ (I didn’t tell him I probably would have if they’d given me something I didn’t know.)

So, since then I’ve rung the Conservatorium, and they suggest coming along and seeing them about accompanying the teachers. IF (I said ‘if’) I can get work (I’ve still to try the Rockdale and State Opera Cos) both of which should be paying propositions!) I might stay here – you wouldn’t object too strongly would yuh! I’d miss you too, terribly, but it might have to be. If I did stay, I’d see, say the priests at St Mary’s and see (or even St C…) if they could get, or knew of, some board, or even a decent flat, I could share. (I don’t think I’d like to live alone too long!)

Sooooo! We’ll see what happens, and I’ll keep in touch! By the way, I got a letter from YOU today – sorry about the car – but it’s nice to see you still love me!

LATER Went to see Flying Dutchman tonite – percussion box practically empty – so sat there. [This was because I’d played with a number of the members of this orch in NZ, and the percussionist and I were good friends: so he gave me free access to the performances.] Very dreary production – hardly any attempt made at acting by the principals, but singing great. Orchestra very weak throughout, particularly the horns and brass. Quite effective lighting – 1 and 3 acts (on boat and wharf) done behind a gauze cloth, which gave it all a misty effect. Krug came into the box during the 3^rd act – and had a wee chat.

Love Mike

10.9.67 Mass, lunch and the beach

10.9.67 [Sunday]

St Candice interior, courtesy Sydneyorgan.com

Hi! Went to Mass this morning at St Canice’s which is about 3 blocks away and tried to mumble my way through. The trouble is, the Aussies, in typical fashion, have simplified a good deal of the language and so we got, ‘The Lord be with you’ – ‘And with you’ (!) (which incidentally, is much better because it cuts out the emphasis on ‘And with Your spirit’ which is wrong. If anything, it should be, ‘And with your spirit.’ 

Anyway, I got there and then went and had a read of me ‘Annals’ and Catholic Weekly in the Fitzroy Gardens (where the El Alamein Fountain is – there’s a TV ad for raincoats with it in) which are just round the corner from the Manhattan. [The Annals Australasia – journal of Catholic culture, I think this might be.]

Then rang Anne Newbury, as she had suggested, and she invited me out for the afternoon. By this time there was a message from Cecil to ring him, which I did, and which took a considerably longer time than expected due to the slow, slow way he seems to talk and think. He finds he and his wife are all booked up this week, so they may have me out next Sunday. So it looks as though I’ll be here till at least next weekend (the money will last!) because I’ve got to ring Pikler then too. [The money barely lasted – I arrived in NZ with so little cash I had to borrow some money off Marge Quinn in Christchurch to get the train home to Dunedin. Marge was a former workmate of my mother, and we used her home as base before and after the Oz trip.]

Went out to Anne’s via the subway (after walking into town) which was another new experience. Some of the carriages here are double-deckers like the buses; I went in one (upstairs) on the way back tonite. That train goes over the Breedge (!) which was also interesting. [Me being rude about the Sydney accent.] Anne picked me up at the station and took me to her place, where I met Christopher (9) and Jenny (11). 

We had lunch in the sun, (a terrific day today) and then went for a ride to the beach (not Bondi, but beginning with B.), where we walked back and forth for quite a little while; even did some paddling (me – with me Sunday suit on – but I’d left me coat and tie at Anne’s.) It was really lovely in the sun, and think I’m getting a bit red in the face – it’s about time: I’ve been out in the sun enough lately. Stayed for tea, too, at Anne’s, and we watched TV – mainly a Disneyland on D Duck. Some of their programmes, in spite of the fact that they’ve got 4 channels, are behind ours – there was the beginning of that new Dean Martin show, for example. And they’ve still got the Underwater puppet show, and don’t seem to have heard of Thunderbirds! So!! [Anne was separated from her husband – she and I had met on the Die Fledermaus tour, when the Australian Opera orchestra was bought over to play, and had got on very well. She played oboe, if I remember rightly.]

Well, tomorrow, is the big day – and I’ll be glad when it’s over – I don’t really think I’ve been particularly relaxed all the time I’ve been here.

I’ve got another lunch date with Cecil tomorrow, and then back to the Trust for the (gulp!) audition!

So, see ya, Mike

Undated - Free seat at the opera

It's a bit hard to tell where this letter fits in. Possibly I wrote two on one day, since the next one in the list is actually dated the 10th Sept. However, the information in this letter seems to indicate that it was certainly around the 10th or 11th.

Undated, but postmarked 11 Sept 67 

Dear Mother, How are You? I am fine! Long hot day here in Sydney, so having nothing really to do , I went to the T. P. Zoo. [Presume this is the Taronga Zoo – was it called the Taronga Park Zoo at one point?] And got so lost that I kept finding bits I hadn’t even realized existed. It’s a marvellous place, isn’t it? Snakes – UGH! Giraffes – oooh! (One baby there, but he just sat.) Some peculiar little animal that stopped and talked to me (everyone reckoned he was an opossum, but he was in with the wallabies). A cockatoo that nearly burst my ear drums with his ‘hullo,’ and two others that fell quite in love with me and wouldn’t leave. Very friendly crowd of animals there – there – they nearly all  had time to stop and chat! And a very good aquarium with some of the oddest and most beautiful fish I’ve seen. Who said op-art was a new thing? God gave it to fishes centuries ago!

It’s a ferry-trip, of course – or didn’t you know – I never know where you’ve been in S. and where you haven’t; and the ferry goes round the Opera House, still being completed, but surprisingly beautiful., and looked on as an attraction by even the most mundane of Sydneyites.

AMP Building

Went up to the top of the AMP building to top off the afternoon. It’s 25 storeys high (no 13 isn’t used except as an air-conditioning plant!) and the lift gets there in about 5 secs flat. I had to make 2 trips to pick up some of the things I’d left behind (stomach, heart, etc). And the view naturally is stupendous!

Surprisingly enough that just about filled in the day, and I’m off to tea in a minute. I’ll try a restaurant in Kings Cross tonite; went to the Continental (?) Café in one of the thousand arcades late nite – very nice too. So, see ya.

Jack’s mail arrived – somewhere along the line it’s been dipped in something pink! and every letter including Grahame’s reference has got blodged in some part. Looks like I’ll just have to wait and see whether it’s necessary to use that or not. [I’m unclear as to who this Jack is – Grahame may have been Grahame Clifford with whom I’d worked both as an accompanist in Dunedin when he was teaching there, and again in Wellington when he and I went on the Die Fledermaus tour together, and became even closer friends. He’d been one of the top baritone singers at Covent Garden in his day, and had originally come to Dunedin with a D’Oyly Carte tour, playing the comic patter roles. When he ‘retired’ he thought Dunedin would be a good place to live. Unfortunately he was never truly appreciated there.]

Had tea in a place I won’t go to again. Wouldn’t even give me a serviette! Couldn’t quite tell what the excuse was but the girl said, ‘We don’t…serviettes’?? So I was none the wiser nor cleaner by the time I’d finished the meal.

I’d rung Anne Newbury this morning and she suggested that since there were NO seats available for any part of the opera season – it’s been sold out for months!! – why not come along and see if I could get in behind the percussion players in one of the side boxes to see it – ‘it’ being Turandot. Well, I met her (and also quite a few others from Fledermaus) [the others being some of the orchestra members from Fledermaus; the NZ Opera Co had used Sydney orchestral players for some reason] and we found that there was simply NO room behind the percussion players, because they had every conceivable instrument in there already. So they suggested I go upstairs and stand at the back. Well, I tried that, but was told at least 3 times by a fussy usher that the fireman would growl, so I headed off at the end of the 1^st Act, and discovered quite by chance (or good management on the part of the guardian angel) that there was room in the side box in the gods. And after the first act two people moved out so I was free to take either seat. And what a sound it was. The view wasn’t much – everyone looked like a dwarf (!) – but I was between the stage and the orchestra practically and got the best of both! Marvellous. 

Grahame Clifford, presumably as the
Modern Major-General.

The production wasn’t anything remarkable, but the singing except for one or two spots was wonderful – and the chorus was terrifically full-blooded. The woman who played Turandot (who doesn’t come on till the 2^nd Act) arrived with a cloak that must have been 24ft long (!) made up (the cloak!) to be a peacock (of sorts) and it was spread all the way down a flight of stairs by her handmaids. And her costumes were terrific! Thousands of beads and glittering things. Heaven knows how she stood up in it all. [The stairway, one of those typical ‘inspirations’ by the designer, took up most of the stage, and while it was great for such effects as already described, it left little room round the sides for the large chorus, and the principals. Consequently, a lot had to be done on the stairway.]

Went round to see Feist afterwards for a brief visit, and he sez he’ll probably be there on Monday (!!) Oh well. [Bob Feist, the conductor of Die Fledermaus, who was by then working for this season in Sydney. An American conductor, with some eccentricities. He and I had our moments, in rehearsals, mostly because I wasn’t as familiar with Fledermaus as he expected I should somehow be. I also played the glockenspiel in the performances, a fairly thankless task since the part is not large – but they had to do something justify taking me around New Zealand. A good deal of some performances was spent reading The Hobbit by the light of the orchestral lamp. I seem to remember that I also played the triangle in the overture, and I certainly played the glockenspiel as the ‘sound’ of Grahame Clifford playing on the bars of the prison cell.]

So, must go to bed. See ya, love Mike.

9.9.67 Being a tourist

9.9.67

I’m sitting right opposite the Harbour Bridge which is 60 times more striking than I ever thought it was in pictures. And the sea’s a blaze of blue – it’s fabulous. There’s a little ferry going past – they really travel, those things; and a couple of trains have just gone over the bridge – what a racket they make! It must be something to do with the atmosphere – but every time I hear one go over, I think it’s a jet flying above – funny, isn’t it? There’s boats and ferries and hovercrafts galore (and yachts).

To my right is the Opera House – it really will be magnificent, if they ever finish it. I’m going round to see if I can get a closer look, in a minute.

Conservatorium of Music courtesy Wikicommons
How did I fail to mention that it looked like a castle?

To my left is a massive grey and blue-black building – must be about 15 storeys and there’s a couple more further along. (I’m in the Botanical Gardens – which seem to go on forever.) Everywhere there’s people taking photos of other people standing in front of things. Government House is over behind me – it looks rather like ‘Manderley’ in Rebecca and the Con (Conservatorium of Music) is further back. It’s a lovely white place with lots of square turrets. (Gov House has got round ones!)

The little black and white friend has just gone past again and there’s some sort of large (very) motorboat tugging by just now.

It’s a terrific day (Not Too Hot) but a little cold in the shade.

I started to move off to see the Opera H and discovered me shoes were untied – I’d forgotten. Wonder how many steps I’ve taken in the last few days.

The Opera House gets bigger and bigger. There’s a little observation hut with scale models etc, and it’s going to be some mighty place. The steps up the front (which are partly completed) seem to go in every direction for yards and if you think the building is large you should see the crane in front – it’s a whopper. I’d really like to see this place when it’s finished.

Blackman's Angry Young Girl
courtesy Art Gallery of NSW

LATER. Waffled round in the garden (which seems to go on forever) (- I certainly didn’t go from one end to the other ) for quite a while, then discovered the Art Gallery, which, in spite of Cecil P’s remarks, is definitely better than anything I’ve ever seen. He reckoned it wasn’t a patch on Melbourne’s. anyway, I had a good look around there and it’s got some marvellous stuff – a Millais, Henry Moores, Rembrandt sketches – all the things a gallery should have. It’s even got the original of Chaucer reading to…? (someone or other) [Chaucer at the court of Edward III by Ford Madox Ford] which I seem to recall is in in one of the Wonderland of Knowledges. [A set of encyclopedias which had long had a place in our home.] It’s a massive painting – indeed many of them are – huge! There are two quite hilarious ones: The Angry Little Girl who has a face quite screwed up with annoy (it’s a modern one) and another – a portrait of some Australian VIP lady. She’s – well in this shape. [A diagram was scribbled on the page. The Angry Young Girl is by Charles Blackman. Can’t identify the other.] sort of all elongated towards the top – almost a triangle in human shape. I wonder how she liked it? I’m at the pictures, just waiting for it to start. I notice Sound of M is in its 3^rd year and Dr Z in his 2^nd!

LATER AGAIN. Film was very good – very well acted. Went and had tea in the restaurant where Cecil and I went the other day. An old (I think he looked older than he was) chap sat in the same booth as me – and acted, or at least spoke as if he was drunk, yet didn’t smell drunk at all. We had quite a wee chat, anyway, when he wasn’t apologising to me for interrupting, or being there, or living!

That’s about it. I’m going to try and have an early night – I’ve woken up very tired every day so far! Caught Mass at St Mary’s when I dropped in for a visit today – they’d only just started, so I thought I might as well stay.

See ya, love, Mike

8.9.67 Making contact

Postmarked 8 Sept 67

SYDNEY! (Though except for the doubledeckers it could be home.) [Good grief!]

Courtesy Ferdous

Well, the weather here hasn’t so far been all it should – it’s been alternately hot and raining all day. And guess what – I now have a Saul – and like his counterpart he’s been misbehaving – in the first real gust of wind he blew himself inside out!!  [Presumably an umbrella but why a 'Saul' is now lost in the mists of time.] And broke two of the little hinges off. I’ve fixed one, I think, (now that I’m back at the hotel) but the other has lost the bit that holds it together – may be able to use a bit of cunning - we’ll see. Felt a bit silly walking along with along with a slightly flattened umbrella – but it’s only been necessary in the dark after the pictures and anyway it was better than getting soaked, which almost happened at lunch-time.

A long and busy day. Rang up Lovejoy (Glenda’s friend) and he wasn’t in till 11.00 (but made friends with his (middle-aged) secretary and we had a bit of a chat. [Lovejoy was my ‘contact’ in Oz to try and put me onto the ‘right’ people. Glenda Ferrall was my friend from the NZ Opera Company’s Die Fledermaus tour.] Rang Anne [Newbury, the oboist I later stayed with] but she was out too. Rang Cecil – I never thought that he would be one of these slow, slow, speakers. (One of the kind that has never finished when you start talking.) [Cecil Purdy, one of my father’s best and oldest friends and supporters. A top chess player in Oz.] However, we had a bit of a yarn, and he said to call in and see him if I was going to be in town. Went exploring around here again – constant delights at every turn, plus sudden downpours! I’m just a wee way from Elizabeth Bay, five minutes’ walk in fact, and when it was sunny this morning, it was beaut. The sun always dried me out, anyway. Rang back Lovejoy, appointment for 4.30 this arvo. Went into town (after nearly forgetting letter to Lovejoy) and finished up having a long leisurely lunch with Mr Purdy. He’s got a cute wee shop up on the second floor – you probably know it [she probably didn’t, since she had lived in Melbourne] - and I met his secretary and his junior girl. The secretary, Mrs Shiel (a Dooley [Catholic], so Cecil informs me) was very pleasant and we three had quite a chat both before and after lunch (which Cecil paid for, in spite of my arguments.) He’s a nice old fellow when he gets talking, which we did. We rang up Pikler, and I’ve got to get in touch with him on Saturday. [Robert Pikler, a contact at the Sydney Conservatorium.]

Went to the Massive Public Library (after going round and round in circles, in and out of arcades, into two parts of the David Jones Ladies' shop, trying to get an umbrella), after lunch. It’s tremendous, in every sense, but seems to have a lack of system. [I didn’t understand it, more likely.] Upstairs there’s a part called the Mitchell Library, housing old prints and pictures and original diaries and letters etc. There were several Brothers (Christian) there and one of them was the brother of a boy I went to school with – name of Vincent (I went with Colin – but don’t know this one’s name). He’s the fellow whose face was all scarred and burnt – but I introduced meself (never actually met him before) and we had quite a wee chat! Isn’t it funny?

Finally got out to the University where Lovejoy is, after dying a thousand deaths, and being late – the bus took much longer than planned – and this was where me umbrella blew up! Anyway, he was busy with some people, so I talked to his secretary again, Miss Lonsdale, she is, until he was ready. [Seem to make a habit of this on this trip – the confidence of youth.] [2018 – or it could be that this was a useful trait: getting to know people.]

He was very helpful; besides giving me a list of names – ‘tell them Jack sent you’ so to speak, of others that might be useful for jobs, he personally rang Stephen Hall, who was the guy I’d been writing to, and passed him onto me. I audition on Monday, playing the pieces, probably, and possibly doing a bit of sightreading for some singers who are going to audition. So!! Here’s hoping. There seems to be plenty of things going on here, even if I don’t get in with the Trust meantime, so here’s hoping I’ll be back here soon! [Elizabethan Theatre Trust, which also covered opera at that time.]

Went to a terrible movie – a Walt Disney, too! Called The Ugly Dachshund – and it was too terrible. Everybody looked slightly bored, including the animals, (who had to create one horrible unfunny mess after the other). UGH! [1966 move with Dean Jones and Suzanne Pleshette, the staples of Disney movies of that period. Leonard Maltin thinks it is ‘silly’ too.] In the first half was the Winnie the Pooh film which was only about 20 minutes long – it wasn’t terribly successful either, but still a Disney cartoon. Must go XXX See ya, Love to you and Fred. Mike

These letters are indexed here

7.9.67 I arrive in Sydney

The first of a number of letters dating from when I went to Sydney, Australia, in 1967, to spy out the lay of the land regarding possibility of repetiteur work. Handwritten letters. Most of the letters have no date on them, but back in 1992 I appear to have got them sorted. I typed them up that year, printed them out, and then the original on-computer versions were lost. This year, 2018, I've typed them up again so that I have more than just a paper record. 

The comments in square brackets were added at the time the letters were first typed up, and a few more have been added in the 2018 update.

I’ve left some of the quirky spellings, most of which will have been intentional rather than accidental. 

The young fellow writing the letters - 22 years old at the time - was somewhat naive, a good Catholic, and sociable. And close to his mother, having not had a father in sight since he was three.

Manhattan Motel, Greenknowe Ave, Potts Pt, Sydney. Postmarked 7.9.67

Dear old

   Much-maligned

     Mum!

Please accept all apologies for general lousy treatment by yours truly of you over last couple of days. As you said once I got on the plane I was okay and thoroughly enjoyed the trip over. Chris Beckett and I had a couple of chats because we both had three seats each (the plane being only about half-full – it must hold up to 200!). [The identity of Chris Beckett is now not known at all – possibly he was someone I’d met at a Summer Music School.]

Tea (or Dinner) was the funniest thing you’ve ever seen. First a man (one of about four cabin stewards) appeared with a couple of very odd looking trays – he was holding them so high I couldn’t see what was on top, and I thought (the meal was four course, or supposed to be) that he was just bringing a few starting implements. However, the entire four courses were on this one tray! (About 18” by 24”). Soup was in one corner, sitting bubbling, then 2 little pottles (one with milk and the other with mint jelly for the lamb), then a tiny pair of pepper and salts, a packet containing two different biscuits and one of those quarters of Chesdale, a cup for the coffee (which arrived a little later), a packet containing knives, forks, etc, an oblong dish (divided down the middle) (about 6” long!) with a small piece of lamb in one side and two baby potatoes and a lot of peas in the other. There was also a small bread roll, and some butter. A real mini-meal. I’ve never got through a four course meal in less time!! [Things haven’t changed – they just don’t advertise it as a four-course meal anymore.] [Note in 2018: the very idea of a four-course meal is almost as unlikely as getting the sort of service that used to be provided on flying boats.]

Chris is going to Paris (via London and Vienna) to study piano!! Just like that – in the middle of a school year! (Upper sixth.)

The Manhattan is very enormous, compared to my usual sort of hotel (and is in the middle of dozens Kings Cross, naturally.] I am in a room with two beds, and a bathroom!! (Shower, bath, toilet.) And since no one else has arrived, I guess it’s all my own. [I have no idea why I thought I’d be sharing with some stranger, though it’s probable that had happened in NZ in a less expensive hotel.] It’s not luxurious, but it will do me fine. [Not quite sure what I expected for my money.] I have a fourth floor view of a lot of lights, and other buildings, and some ferry floating past. (And no fire escape either.) [Never satisfied. I probably hadn’t realised that the fire escape would be down the corridor, not directly off my room.]

More recent view from Greenknowe Ave window 

of other equally large hotels, just a couple of quite long streets away from the Cross. [

I wandered up and down for ages around the general area trying to get a paper, and finally gave up. Then I went into a bookshop that was open, and when I bought a book that I haven’t seen in NZ (and wanted) the lady gave me her paper when I told her me troubles.

Must mention customs. Of course, the moment the man started asking me questions I went all red and stammery and so he looked through my satchel (with such pornographic literature as David Copperfield) and through my bag (not the hanging one – he gave up before that) (and I’d recovered my self-control by then too!) and found all that carefully hidden contraband: Elastoplast, Enterovioform, underclothes, towel! [2018: Enterovioform is no longer generally available; apparently there were neurological side effects.]

Better go, this place looks quite interesting, after all!!!

XXXXXXX see ya, Mike.

A wee bit later,

Waall!!

(A) I’ve recovered me sense of humour (on the plane!) By the way, hardly saw the sea till practically at Sydney – flew over clouds from our West Coast.

(B)  I’ve fallen head over heels for Sydney!!

I went out before to post the rest of this letter, but couldn’t find anywhere with envelopes (although there’s all sorts of odd shops open) and couldn’t get the stamps I needed (PandPandP. Office on our corner.) [I think this means that there was a post office on the corner which I missed on the way out.] So I decided I’d have a look at the Cross before I went to bed. Well – (as it happens we came thru in the taxi before anyway) it seems to thrive mainly on strip-shows, with barkers outside telling you that the ‘show’s just started’ – and believe it or not a young frizzly blonde lady asked me as I was walking by, ‘Do you want a girl, love?’ (No, I didn’t believe it, either!) – she looked, and sounded quite nice, that was the funny part. I chuckled to myself all the way down the road! Bought meself some fruit (singly, not by the pound, I was informed!) because I’m starving.

See ya, Mike. [Oh, the arrogance of the naïve.]

These letters are indexed here