Trying to relax

I’ve found it hard on my travels to balance seeing the sights and having some down time. My brain wants to explore every thing there is to see but my body says you need to have some time to rest. I find it hard to ‘sit still’ and relax – I always want to be doing something, working through the list of must see things.

I am sitting in the State Library of South Australia, Adelaide. Across the bridge from this room is a beautiful room, it’s three tier galleys lined with books, quiet, dark and still – I’ll probably go there after lunch just for another look. I’m at present in the more modern section of the library with comfy chairs, power points, tables, a Lego workbench for children. It is a place, it seems, for waifs and strays. To my left is a lady with a large suitcase. She is laid out on the curved seats, snoring loudly. Behind me is a gentleman who has all his worldly goods in a wheeled trolley. His feet are dirty and he is wearing a cardigan tied with a rope. He is looking at news items on the library computer while peeling an orange into a bin. A lady is talking loudly on a pay phone. A security guard is wandering round, chatting. Two members of staff are taking down old posters and discussing the history of Sydney Cove in the 1800s. A selection of other people are scattered around the space. A man has just come in for a lie down. A lady is doing her knitting while listening to the radio.

Whether it is the peacefulness of the older library or the more eclectic nature of The Hub, I have found a place to recharge, write and relax. Plus there is a cafe across the hallway, where I shall go for lunch in a moment.

Coming back from lunch, the lady who was asleep has now woken up and is talking to another couple of guys also with suitcases. I tune into the conversation, ” Think I’ll go down to Hutt Street and get a sleeping bag,” “If you go round the corner you can get a place to sleep,” “You shouldn’t be on the streets if you are ill.” “I’ve got the lawyer trying to sort out a place.” I feel the sharp contrast between the old reading chamber and the slightly refugee feeling of the community room. I don’t feel uncomfortable, I just feel sad. Here I am debating the cost of a hotel room in Melbourne and whether it is too expensive, and around me are people who will be sleeping on the streets tonight.

I feel so lucky to have this opportunity to travel and the means to do so.

Found my place to write.