Grafton - 19th July 2009 (8am)

Dear Mum,

I've decided to write my travel diary to you. This will give me better focus than a simple "Dear Diary" or a made up pen-pal =]

The CountryLink experience is still bright and shiny. The world looks very pretty out the window and my 1000mm of leg room has been taken up by a backpack (the food bag, as I've dubbed it).

Current betting has my enthusiasm wearing off before Broadmeadow.

We're running at least 10 minutes late; the driver did something with the brakes at North Strathfield.

Nonna says "Hi."

This may sound foolishly optimistic, but I could probably watch the scenery go by for the whole ten hour trip. See, if I'd gotten a decent night's sleep, I'd get bored with the scenery. As it is, Nonna's house is an ice-box at the best of times and blankets cannot really compete against cold cotton sheets. I was awake before my alarm went off at 5:20 this morning.

Speaking of which, this morning was one of the few times where almost everything magically falls into place. My alarm sounded; I got up and walked to the door; Nonna's alarm sounded; we said good morning; I made my way to the loo; Zio Aldo called. Life was good.

We've arrived at Hornsby and are about to have our tickets checked.

Or not... whatever, I'll let you know when our tickets are checked.

Nonna thinks I could write all day. And she's worrying about which seat is the window and which is the aisle. Doesn't really matter with the two of us.

Nonna made a joke!

Nonna: Penso che se ne andato. (about the man checking tickets)
Sara: We'll wait then.
Nonna: Dove andiamo?
*laughter*

And our tickets are now checked!

By for now,
Sara

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Tranlsation of Nonna's joke:

N: I think he's gone.
S: We'll wait then.
N: We're not going anywhere.