Last Wednesday, I was in a bus, in downtown Dandenong. I was on my way to hospital for some surgery (but that's another story). I looked up from my book and glanced out the window. Framed by the bus, the cloud-roofed sky, the hard grey pavement and a slash of asphalt was a corner of Dandenong Town Hall/Drum Theatre.
I had a flash of dislocation: "I'm in Helsinki!"
It passed quickly; very quickly - the odour of bus, the screech as a young mother slapped her child, my anxiety at the prospect of being anaesthetised and cut ... and the certain knowledge that Dandenong is a long, long way from Helsinki. (Melbourne readers may know what I mean.)
I've only been to Helsinki once, twelve years ago. I was there for a conference, a pit-stop in the middle of a longer holiday, and had caught a cold - so was in my motel room when not at the conference, meaning I did not see as much of the city as I'd have liked. This is the first time I've ever 'felt' myself back there, and perhaps of all the cities I've visited, I would not expect Helsinki to be one to which I'd return in this manner. However, I would very much like to visit that city again - in the flesh this time! - and in flesh which was not to be invaded by a surgeon's blade!
I wonder what hidden inner desires this experience of "being" arose from? Something to ponder as I traverse Melbourne's highways and byways today, between appointments.
No comments:
Post a Comment