Was You Ever On The Congo River...

With a monkey's heart and a donkey's liver,
Blow me bully boys, blow.

Well tonight I discovered that I will never join the ranks of James Nachtwey or Matthias Heng...or Henti Cartier-Bresson for that matter. The street will not be my studio, nor will I venture anywhere into the dark corners of the world.

I am not normally a nervous individual, having been married for 40 years. Loud noises do not frighten me. I can stand a fair bit of unsanitary. But when I stepped out of the train station in one of Sydney's western suburbs tonight, intent on attending a club meeting a kilometre away, I started to get the creeps.

No-one was unpleasant. No one attacked me with knives or bombs. No one shouted at me in any known language. I was undoubtedly still under the jurisdiction of NSW and Commonwealth law and would have enjoyed all the protection of the Queen's justice. But after a quick look around I decided that I would not wish to trouble Her Majesty. I think the final straw was watching someone actually melt into the shadows just ahead of me, and this done on a suburban road at 6:30 at night. The thought of the kilometre to go in the dark and then back again at 10:00...

I hope the club meeting was a success. The trip back to the center of the city on the next train was quick and the Italian restaurant I stopped at put on a fine dinner. Actually that is one of the best tips I can give to travellers - never mind all the rest, find an Italian restaurant - they may be noisy but you get fed good.