Convention

Yes!  The time has finally arrived when I can step out of my home and continue my light rail journey without riot police hosing me down with disinfectant.  I must admit I was hesitant, I stepped nervously out of my flat and tears sprang to my eyes.  Once I got used to the sun though things improved.  I made my way to the light rail station and somewhat nervously sat down in one of the available seats (all of them).  I still couldn't quite believe I was going to be allowed to get away with this.

Soon enough though the light rail was rattling me towards my destination while a recorded announcement (made, I think, by the same woman who normally voices quiet but completely insane computers in sci-fi movies) made a series of statements around COVID-19 which collectively added up to "What the hell are you doing on this train anyway?  Do you really want to die?"  Somewhat to my surprise I survived the trip and hopped off at the next station on my sadly interrupted journey; Convention.

Convention is again about a five minute walk from the previous light rail station.  It gets its name from a convention centre located conveniently nearby.  I stepped off the train and gazed out across an open plaza and towards Darling Harbour.  Handsome (or at least new) buildings dotted the landscape and the path led directly to the water where somewhat nervous tourists took advantage of well appointed dining facilities most of which had reopened.  I decided to exit by the other side of the station which led directly into a multistory carpark.

It is probably a reflection of my psychology but I actually like carparks, possibly because I don't have to drive through them.  All that exposed concrete and gloomy lighting makes me feel as though I'm wandering through subterranean tunnels.  Playing Dungeons & Dragons at a formative age obviously affected me more than I thought.  By the time I had found an exit I had slain an army of imaginary goblins and skillfully avoided an imaginary dragon.  To be fair a dragon in a tunnel would be spending most of its time trying to avoid banging its head on the ceiling so sneaking past it was no great feat.

Once out of the carpark I found myself on the sort of road that leads into a carpark.  That is, it was dark and not particularly convenient for either motorists or pedestrians.  For the record I was in the suburb of Ultimo but don't worry about that, I wouldn't be there for long.  Before I set off though I came face to face with the grim corporate entity that was facilitating my light rail travels.  Transdev who operates the system has an office right next to the light rail station (and the carpark) and across its rather modest portal were the words "Transdev - Mobility Inspired by You".  Well I couldn't help feeling flattered but I would have preferred it if they had paid me some royalties.

After leaving a small offering to the Gods of Transport at the temple of Transdev I set off for a brief stroll.  Down at the waterside everything was elegant and flashy and, as usual in such cases, the area immediately behind it was gritty and rather shabby.  Things looked up a bit as I crested a small his and saw signs of civilisation, well I saw signs of Novotel actually but I'm not very picky.  The next time I looked up I was back in bloody Pyrmont again. I waved hello to some of the locals I recognised and headed for the water.

Having experienced the seamy side of Convention I now strolled casually along the water's edge, just another gentleman stroller out enjoying his day.  Men stared at me suspiciously and mothers hustled their children away but those things are quite normal.  I wandered past restaurants doing my best to avoid the press gangs loitering outside trying to drum business until I found myself back at the plaza I had seen from the station and there, just beyond it was the station.  Taking a hint I headed back towards it passing, on the way, the Convention Centre which was so convenient for the station that I hadn't noticed it before.

At some time in the not too distant past it was decided that simply making buildings that resembled rectangular concrete blocks was uninspired and created a deeply ugly cityscape.  The Convention Centre is the architects response; a building which looks as though bits will fall off it if you stare at it for too long.  The strange thing is, its still ugly just in a different way.  Angles shoot off at directions no self respecting angle would be seen dead contemplating and bits of what could be considered fretwork if you were in a generous mood had been glued, apparently at random, onto the facade.  This is modern architecture; bold, exciting and slightly painful to look at.  I looked at it for all of thirty seconds then wandered back to the light rail station.