Gerard Manley Thighs... For many years now, that's what the poet has been known as in a certain household in south Manchester. I don't know if he ever visited Sydney, but if he had, he might have been pleased to take a ride on the Manly ferry, as I did yesterday - on the recommendation of a friend in Adelaide. What a stunning sight it is, sailing out between Sydney Harbour Bridge on the one side and the Sydney Opera House on the other, both of them within spitting distance. And the whole 30-minute journey to Manly is a treat on the eyes. I spotted signposts to Manly Neighbourhood Centre and Manly Fish Market on my way from the wharf to the beach. Manly Beach, naturally, since everything here is Manly. I stepped into the Pacific Ocean for the first time. Don't know how the Pacific felt about it, but I felt grand. This means, you will already have realized, that I walked on Manly Beach. I felt I should walk there in a Manly way, and so I did - but not in any macho sense. Then I returned to the ferry and back across the water past the bridge and the Opera House. Way to go, as they say.
Then, last night, Jim Nolan and I went for dinner to Tim Blair and the Wog Blogger's. Seriously good evening in every respect. Tim's knowledge of Australian cricket seriously good.