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Sunday 12 June 2016


Saturday evening and I'm back on a train, homeward bound. Snaking through the city, we glide underneath the cable cars. I look up. Almost a whole year has gone by since I was up there, flying over the river, with summer sun burning through the glass onto the face I loved.
Rain splashes onto the window pane and I'm pulled back into the carriage and onto the tracks.
We clickety-clack in front of the apartments not quite finished, and homes that have stood for a generation.
The sky is heavy with a grey that will now see us through to night.
Passing the theatre that used to be a church, we roll into City Airport. A plane’s tail fin pokes elegantly out from behind a building and I'm suddenly transported back to a departure lounge goodbye: a gentle kiss, a pull inside my soul.
The old sugar factory looms to the right and I wonder about all the men and women who have toiled there in the past.
Humid, stormy air begins to make my shirt cling to the naked torso hiding beneath it. And as we begin the final part of our journey before the train reaches the end of the line, I am flooded with memories and moments. This city that relentlessly adds landmarks to the map of my heart, bombards me with associations every day - a year gone by and a journey that has changed my landscape, forever.

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