Garota de Lalomanu

I write this in Melbourne, in winter, but 30 hours ago I was on one of the world's finest beaches gazing on the white sand, the clear warm waters, surf on the reef, lush green island offshore. And, not least, onshore a bevy of beautiful bikini clad backpackers continually distracting the easily distracted such as myself. All this I was about to tear myself away from, to motorcyle back to the town, to fly to the cold and the clothed.



I'm a sucker for the bossa nova song, "The Girl from Ipanema". The original Portuguese lyrics by Vinicius de Moraes ("Garota de Ipanema") are much deeper than the English version, and they hint that beauty can bring sadness, as well as joy.

Later he wrote of the girl, "the sight of whom is also sad, in that she carries with her, on her route to the sea, the feeling of youth that fades, of the beauty that is not ours alone — it is a gift of life in its beautiful and melancholic constant ebb and flow."

What had flowed was about to ebb for me, I gazed and loved, and embraced the sadness.

The Garota de Lalomanu was undoubtedly S. a lovely Dutch girl: Tall (oh, about 6'3") and Tan (of course, she is in the tropics) and Young (only 20, half my age and a bit less) and Lovely (a lovely nature too; I smile and she does see, she smiles at me!)

As I type this in my winter, I still love a bit this Garota de Lalomanu, I suspect I'm not alone.

Unrequited love on the Upfield Line, remembered

At the pool after work, I go for my crook neck, I stay too long in the spa, I get a bit light headed. I sit on the side, half dressed, waiting to recover, waiting for my feet to dry and I remember this lovely woman that got on my carriage last Saturday arvo.

She got on at Antsey or Brunswick, or somewhere close; it's not really that important but perhaps it is, all the best people live in Brunswick these days. Late twenties, early thirties, it's hard to tell. Dark clothes and hair, just as I like it, not Goth though, hopefully a bit old for Emo. Warm eyes, but a bit tired around them, no make up excepting a touch of lippy on these wonderful, voluptuous lips which I'll never forget. She sat facing me, but a couple of bays down. She smiled at a toddler in the opposite window, I like to think that this hints at a good nature. I realised that she was all that I had ever looked for in a lover and soul mate, and if it was that good a match, then I must be The One for her too. I went back to reading my novel.

I got off at North Melbourne. She didn't look up.

"She doesn't know I exist,
I'm gonna keep it like this,
I'm not gonna take any risks..."

As I think of her, sitting by the pool, waiting for my feet to dry, all the noise, the shouting & splashing, the echoes, they all subside and I've got this wonderful Divine Comedy song exploding in my head. I smile, all is not lost, unrequited love is better than no love.