It’s Friday night on Sydney Road, and I can’t spot the source of the
harmonica until I see a guy walking on the road along the parked cars.
A harmonica’s not really a city instrument, but it’s a welcome
change from the normal sights along here – The hardworking old guys behind
restaurant counters, the sad little poker machine pub with “live music”
provided by a guy with a flashy new keyboard for his Lionel Ritchie covers.
I’d come out for dinner, a late dinner, but the walking made me feel like
I didn’t want to just eat anything. I kept walking until I was home
again, hungry but exercised.