Return to Clovelly

I was on a straight road for a while but had meant to remind myself that I should veer to the left at some stage. Sometime later I forgot about this but then backtracked to take a photo of a sign for another place I used to live: Clovelly. I looked at my map while I was stopped and noticed this is the left I was meant to take. One time I was in my favourite bar in the world called Claypots in Melbourne. They had open mic nights on Mondays and myself, Phily and Andy were there one night enjoying the Czech beer and the crazies. After reciting some Irish poetry (was it Raglin Road?) a big fat Scottish bloke started talking to Andy. Andy like me was going home soon and wasn’t too sure about his decision but was adamant he’d be back. Just hear Billy Connolly and you’ve got it, ‘Don’t go Andy, you won’t come back’ he said over and over and over. I heard that ringing in my head for so long after. For 2 years after leaving I sounded like Jack in Lost ‘we have to go back,’ but still neither of us have. Now Clovelly was calling me home. Who knows how long I would of kept going down that road, but I do know it would of crushed the spirits a bit to have missed a turn. Clovelly was the nicest little village so far but unfortunately it was surrounded by hills, just like the Sydney version.

Nice bit of country road from here though

The problem with all these hills is you have to get off and walk up them and then if you go too fast down them your hands and feet get cold. So I had to really jam on the brakes on the way down. It was around this time I realized my brakes had gone to shit. My back ones are always pretty useless no matter how new they are. They’re like an unimportant friend, they do what the other ones do and make all the right noises but somehow they just don’t make an impact on you. But I didn’t think my front pads were so worn down. I was hearing that harsh metal against metal scraping sound which means your brake pads are completely gone to shit so I changed to runners so I could put my foot down on the downhill and it’d be easier walking on the uphill. Also there was a lot of ice so didn’t want to risk slipping while clipped in. Tying laces with cling film over every finger is no mean feat. After a frustrating few minutes I took a pic of what I passed through earlier.