Melbourne, Australia, July 31, 2008
I run into the boys on Smith Street. We’ve come to be fond of Melbourne. And this time round, our second visit in a year, its familiarity is a welcome comfort after the mid-bending trip halfway round the planet. The shops are setting up to close, so Georg, Orri, Kjartan, sousaphone player Ingi and me repair to a small Japanese restaurant a few paces away to see what our stomachs are capable of. Jetlag hits in unpredictable ways with time losing all meaning, so there’s no telling whether you’re going to be hungry and what meal ...
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