Would I like the game of golf? I have no idea. Churchill, who knew how to weave some word magic, once said about golf, “It’s by far the best way to ruin a perfectly good walk.”

On my way back from Gosford CentreLink – obliged to ride the bus like a friggin’ normal for crying out loud – I got off somewhere faintly familiar looking and happily set to walking the long way home. Before long, i was a-hopping and a-skipping through the lanes happy as a sandboy.

Well almost..

I’m actually postponing writing my piece on Sifrol until I’ve summoned all my muses.

I enjoyed taking my time, sipping from the bottle of water provided by Uber driver Michael on the way into the bright lights of downtown Gosford (I gave him 5 stars, yes for the water but also for pretending I was making sense, while trying desperately to offer some chit-chat from the back seat).

I must have sounded like a dead ringer for poor John Merrick “Doaayouaaou thhhhhhhinkkk vie’ll have a a a a a hot s sd s summer?” 

I loved walking along the suburban streets, so quiet and peaceful with just a couple of Galahs frolicking about, which was good as it meant I didn’t have to worry too much about the civilians staring, the hushed mutterings, those odd half-accusatory looks ‘How dare he make us a bit sad by being out in public?  So selfish, we’ve all got problems, mate!’

In the end I decided to give the muses the day off. So those woodland sprites, Lorelei nymphs and South Pacific sirens can rest for now. I have a feeling they will need it.

The previous day, I overtook a lady I don’t know but keep seeing all around town. She is very much afflicted in the sense that she’s doubled over, almost at an 90 degree angle like a pocket knife.

But still she walks everywhere every day. A few months ago my short-lived carer said when I commented on this lady’s omnipresent wanderlust: “Well, at least you’re not walking like that.”

True that, I thought, although that’s not at at all how I tend look at things…

When I passed this remarkable lady on the pavement, she noted my awkward gait and seemed instantly curious. We then merely exchanged a smile of recognition, which in turn reminded me of these stunning scenes in Lean’s masterpiece Ryan’s Daughter.