Where Men Chunder

While in Australia I spent the best part  of a year living in Kings Cross in Sydney. This was never the plan, like most people who rock up in Sydney, I'd intended to use it as a base to explore the rest of the country and -like most people who rock up  in Sydney - I found the country to be prodigiously expensive meaning that I burnt through my meagre savings in record time. Many backpackers I met would refer to the city as The Snare, given so many people found themselves stuck working a cycle of temporary jobs to survive in a city that they did not have the means to leave. If I'm sounding a note of negativity, I really don't meant to. There are far, far worse places in the world to be stuck. The Cross (or KX as t shirt vendors and the like insist on referring to it) is generally considered to be one of Sydney's more rough and ready areas. In addition to the problems common to any major city, the area is home to the majority of the city's prostitution, organised crime (allegedly) and a shit load of bars and night clubs. Despite/because of  the above it has a certain grubby glamour and a bohemian, cosmopolitan vibe that doesn't slip into pretentiousness. It's also only a few minutes from the CBD, botanical gardens and a great hot dog place down by Potts Point. I whole heartedly recommend going. Just make sure you have enough to leave.

The above is drawn from my memories of Darlinghurst Road and various doodles made during my time there. I doubt its an even slightly accurate representation. Among other things I'm fairly certain there neither is nor was a strip club called the Cherry Zebra, but I feel very strongly that this is Australia's failure, not mine. I've also just realised I've failed to include any of the bin chickens that are, to me, emblematic of the city.

Been off work this week and enjoying lounging round in my underwear. I did manage to get out at least one point and walked the coastal path from Sunderland to South Shields. Having got there I remembered there's nothing much in South Shields, so got the bus straight back to Sunderland. Then I remembered there's nothing much there either so retreated to the Dave Cave to work on the Great British Novel, doodle and play games that it genuinely depresses me are now classed as retro.

Below is a cartoon of a joke that I strongly suspect has been made a million times before and been better presented.

I make no apologies. I can only work with what the muse gives me.

Love and fishes

Dave Denton