Breakfast with someone I used to know

Today I dragged myself away from the family home for breakfast at my old favourite cafe, in my old hood.

It's located in Sydney's inner west: an area close to downtown, but far enough away to feel a little more homey and a little less high-risey.

I used to live there, right up until I moved to Hong Kong; in fact I still own an apartment there, which I rent out to a Brazillian couple. I drove past it today - no green and yellow flag in sight... I don't know if I'm relieved or concerned. Does this mean they are packing to move??

The area is fabulously artsy - full of rustic cafes and second-hand bookshops, with a faint whiff of crystals, chakras, and street dwellers with wild eyes.

Walking down the main street was the first time I've run into my old self since arriving... and it felt entirely strange.

I could see myself walking up and down that same street each day; oblivious of what was to come, carrying groceries, window-shopping, meeting B for a date, having brunch at this very same cafe, doing up my brand new apartment.

Today I felt like I had never left - and suddenly Hong Kong seemed a million miles away.

I sat down for coffee with the old me. She seemed good - relaxed and happy. She felt at home.

That's when I knew - everything, all this - is going to be okay.

When I eventually do return to Sydney, Hong Kong will slowly be disremembered, and mornings chowing down on Chinese tea and dim sum in steaming hole-in-wall cafes, will once again become Italian coffees, newspapers and eggs in Sydney's inner west.

So not ready for that yet. But that day will come.

p.s. Here's what I had for breakfast: Looks disgusting, doesn't it?

But at least it's not dim sum.