I feel like I’m living in a re-enactment of Cold Mountain, but the mountain’s been swapped out for a suburban LGA. And yet I’m among the lucky ones
It’s been 16 weeks since I found myself trapped in Sydney, just in time for the coronavirus lockdown. It’s 16 weeks since I last saw my partner.
As we parted, there wasn’t too much of the Casablanca about our farewell at Wagga Wagga train station – no hats, no mist, not even the soundtrack throb of a string section. There was just business with luggage, a cuddle and the shared hope that Sydney’s lockdown would be over in a few days and we’d be reunited.
