Christmas dreaming

I have just spent the most marvellous week with one of my dearest and oldest friends, George. Or Georgie. (Really Georgette). She and I go way back. We studied at university. Over the last 12 years or so, she and I have seen quite a few parts of Australia together.

Trips such as the legendary drive to Sydney featuring "argument over theology which brought on one of George's dreadful migraines, meaning my having to drive the 10 hours back home" come to mind. Also, the 10 days in Brissie when I thought about hitting on the guy that she was interested in (whoops). The various visits at Jamieson or Merrijig where I regularly recovered from breaking up with the same boyfriend. Here I would curl up on the couch watching the 1995 BBC version of "Pride and Prejudice" while George taught kids how to speak German, knit or ski. And also the wonderful road trip we did a few summers ago now, camping, driving and busking (ha hah) our way from Melbourne to Sydney via various beautiful spots like Metung, Mallacoota and Tathra. Experimenting with not moisturising, swimming every day despite the inconsistent temperature, taking turns driving on 4WD tracks, finally finding a place to bush camp and sleeping in separate tents was good for the body, soul and the fortification of our rock solid friendship.

This time it was "Let's explore a miniscule portion of Germany/Netherlands". These short but full days I shall remember with great fondness and emotion until I see dear Georgie (who-knows-when) again.

Day 1
George arrives from Frankfurt via Singapore, from Melbourne.

While she makes her grand entrance in the Arrivals Hall, Inga and I are still sitting on the bus to the airport. (Inga is a German friend who lives in Dusseldorf. She is planning to migrate to Australia, after having spent 2000 - 2004 in Melbourne). All the while we are convinced that George has to go through immigration and get luggage; in fact, she's already been stamped through in Frankfurt and meanwhile has lost her luggage.

Day 2
While Inga is working, George and I sit around waiting for the luggage to be delivered, sipping cups of tea and eating bikkies in bed, until 4.40pm. When Inga gets home we ask her to await the delivery while she marks 45 exams through the night. George and I go for a look in town.

The Rhine keeps us company as we saunter into the centre. When we reach the Christmas markets, they are crowned in a swathe of fairy lights. The darling stalls bear such treats as gluwein and bratwurst sausages, raclette baguettes, "negroes kisses", snowball donut thingies and incredibly crafted Christmas decorations. How strange it is to be together again in a different hemisphere. Every summer I spend part of my holidays with Georgie. That's how it should be. Except this summer, it's freezing cold and we're in Germany. As we sigh after downing a slurp of heart-warming mulled wine, we can see our breath come out in lovely thick puffs.

George's luggage arrives at 10pm.

Day 3
George takes a swim in an art-deco pool just before the grannies start their water aerobics.

A stroll up Koningsallee reveals a mine of ridiculously priced baubles. I spot a €30,000 watch by Cartier. George beats me by finding a €228,000 ring by I don't know who. Can something so small really be so precious? We whisper to each other that the € value could buy two or more houses in Australia.

We notice that all the people are beautiful and well groomed. We clomp around proudly in our travel gear.

We have dinner out with Inga, and it is itraditional German fare. The serves of sizes are for those with either hollow legs or worms, and certainly not for the faint-hearted. (Despite Inga's attempts at persuading us, no one orders the goose).

Day 4
We take our leave of Inga and enjoy the two-hour train journey to Eindhoven. Edwin meets us on the platform and kisses Georgie first! They immediately click. Ed and I proudly take Georgie to our cosy home. She and I spend the afternoon taking a tiny scenic bike ride through the freezing environs of Eindhoven, and then I whip up a little home-cooked dinner. Pear, rocket, brie, roasted pine nut salad, then a slow-cooked stew with a creamy potato mash and finally the 17 cent puddings in both chocolate and vanilla that Georgie spotted at the Albert Hein supermarket in town.

I give Eddie the gingerbread heart and the nutcracker Christmas tree decoration I picked for him in Germany. He uses them straight away. Day 5
Georgie wakes up, having dreamt about the dreadful fires in Australia and tells me that everyone was asked to pick up all the twigs in the forests, to remove any chance of fuel for the fire. What a fierce contrast with this little country that is starting to freeze.

George and I decide to train up to Amsterdam for a little afternoon of wandering. Here we do not much else than find Upstairs Pannenkoeken to have a pancake. It's a poky little café run by a smart-arse queen (who kitsch-ily uses pics of Queen Bea and antique teapots as part of the décor). And the fun game George thought up of "drop my mittens in a shop 1500 metres from the train station, so that by the time we've almost made it to the train station, we have to turn around and retrieve the mittens, except we can't remember where the shop is and we wander about for 45 minutes until we find it, and then we walk against the flow of late night shoppers to get to the station where we finally board a train for home".

Day 6
George updates me on her night's dreams; people were putting out the fires by sponging the trees. I can't help but think of all the people I know who are affected in any little way by these savage events on the other side of the world. My parents and their friends in Gippsland. Possibly my brother-in-law's parents in Tassie. Katrina and Adrian in Bright.

I have a work meeting in a neighbouring town, and that takes me away from Eindhoven for 4 hours. Georgie hangs out alone, in her self-sufficient way. She works feverishly on her visual diary for hours, I imagine. I can't wait to see how it turns out.

Day 7
No fire dreams from Georgie tonight. A phone call with her boyfriend's housemate the previous day reassured her. She heard that rain is falling on Mansfield and calmer conditions mean that many firefighters may yet enjoy Christmas this year.

Georgie and I bid a chummy farewell at the train station. She is excited about her imminent trip to Rotenburg Wümme, where she will spend Christmas with the host-parents of her teenage exchange trip. She will then go onto Berlin, Leipzig, Dresden, Prague and hopefully Vienna. She then stays in Munich for 3 weeks to do a course for work. I'm awfully jealous, but have many other things to look forward to myself. Christmas with Edwin and his family for example, and starting my job finally, in January.

Even so, I wait till George's train window moves further up the platform towards Venlo, to shed a tear.
Yes, I will miss her.

But I feel like I'm starting to miss Australia too. It was bound to happen.