Angels and miracles
March 19, 2003 | 12:00am
Edifices, monuments, works of art, stage shows may fascinate, startle, impress the tourist, but it is the kindness he experiences along the way which stays etched in his mind and warms his memory longest.
Earlier, I mentioned the special greeting the captain extended to me on board, and I must also mention that it was Qantas Airways Manager Honeybee Y. Hubahib who had thoughtfully notified him of my presence.
In Sydney, the young, pretty, warmhearted Trish Pascuzzo, happily married and a mother of two, served as my guide/escort. It was cold and damp, and with the strong winds nearly blowing Trishs huge umbrella away, I clang to her for dear life under the drizzle as we walked to the nearby Café Sydney, a smart restaurant "with views to die for".
If I were back home, Id surely catch pneumonia, I thought to myself. Luckily, I didnt, attributing my instant hardiness to the clean, pure, fresh air unpolluted amidst the verdant greenery afforded by trees and parks. Indeed, not a single smoke-belching vehicle marred my view during my three-day visit. To think that we are now in the grip of a mysterious form of pneumonia in densely polluted Manila!
"Youve brought us a miracle; weve been having a long dry spell, a real drought, and how we welcome the rain!" Trish exulted. In one taxi ride, she informed the driver that I had brought the rain to Sydney. The minute I alighted from the cab, Trish handed me, to my utter surprise, a lovely souvenir gift from the driver. "He says thats for the miracle you have wrought," Trish explained. (Didnt I observe earlier that the Aussies themselves are an unwitting major tourist attraction?)
Trish herself seemed to be one in the manner she kept deferring to my wishes, thus proving that professionalism can be thoroughly considerate, gracious and personalized. While walking to the Woolloomooloo Wharf for a Japanese dinner, Trish, well-intentioned as ever, admonished me: "Dont run." I quickly replied, breathless: "Im not running. Im keeping pace with you!" We both laughed.
My guide/escort in Melbourne, the five-foot-ten Lesley Bryden, is even taller than Trish. Lesley picked me up at the airport in a brand new, firetruck-red car which she drove herself. A soignée, sophisticated woman with remarkable savoir-faire, she escorted me to theaters and museums as Trish did. From Lesley I learned that the world owes Melbourne: 1) the eight-hour labor law which divides the day into eight hours of work, eight of rest and eight of recreation; 2) the seatbelt and 3) the black box. I believe it was she who also told me that Melbourne residents have the unique distinction of eating their national emblem!
(From a Lebanese driver, I learned that one experiences all four seasons in a single day summer, winter, spring and autumn. No wonder I kept feeling alternately hot and cold in Melbourne.)
A former model married to an internationally-known vet they have three grown-up children and a few grandchildren Lesley has rubbed elbows with the Reagans, the King of Nepal, among other VIPs, and has lunched with the governors wife in Melbourne. My three guides/escorts call them "angels" provided me with an intriguing study in contrasts but each, to be sure, gave me invaluable assistance.
Although I spent relatively little time with my third and youngest "angel" Karen Webster she made every minute count with her charm, inexhaustible energy and infectious spirit. She took me and "Cookie", the Indian publisher of the international magazine Elle, to dinner in a swanky restaurant from where we saw seagulls flying over the river and golden leaves falling about.
I was to have met the eminent Thomas Woods earlier in the afternoon but his sudden flight to Brisbane just before conducting for "Opera in the Market" Its not what its name suggests changed our schedule. Assuming that the Brisbane trip and the concert, all in one day, would leave Mr. Woods exhausted, I had given up interviewing him altogether.
Fortunately, Karens jewel-of-an-aunt Marion Webster, an alto in the 100-member choir, came to us during intermission and agreed, in fact, insisted on bringing up the interview to Mr. Woods himself. Accordingly, after the concert, we wove our way in and out of the heavy human traffic, finally reaching the grounds just below the stage.
To my great astonishment, Mr. Woods momentarily left Premier Steve Bracks and Gov. John Landy, who were then congratulating him, to chat with me. The incident was yet again another "miracle" wrought by "angels" Karen and Marion.
I shall cite only one more "miracle", with salesgirls Irene and Angela as the "angels". In my haste, I had unknowingly left a small envelope containing US dollars on a counter inside the Duty Free Shop of the Sydney Airport, Terminal B. Seeing the tiny envelope, Irene asked Angela to whom it might belong. Having attended to me earlier, Angela rushed out and returned the envelope to me just minutes before I was to board my Qantas plane for Manila!
Earlier, I mentioned the special greeting the captain extended to me on board, and I must also mention that it was Qantas Airways Manager Honeybee Y. Hubahib who had thoughtfully notified him of my presence.
In Sydney, the young, pretty, warmhearted Trish Pascuzzo, happily married and a mother of two, served as my guide/escort. It was cold and damp, and with the strong winds nearly blowing Trishs huge umbrella away, I clang to her for dear life under the drizzle as we walked to the nearby Café Sydney, a smart restaurant "with views to die for".
If I were back home, Id surely catch pneumonia, I thought to myself. Luckily, I didnt, attributing my instant hardiness to the clean, pure, fresh air unpolluted amidst the verdant greenery afforded by trees and parks. Indeed, not a single smoke-belching vehicle marred my view during my three-day visit. To think that we are now in the grip of a mysterious form of pneumonia in densely polluted Manila!
"Youve brought us a miracle; weve been having a long dry spell, a real drought, and how we welcome the rain!" Trish exulted. In one taxi ride, she informed the driver that I had brought the rain to Sydney. The minute I alighted from the cab, Trish handed me, to my utter surprise, a lovely souvenir gift from the driver. "He says thats for the miracle you have wrought," Trish explained. (Didnt I observe earlier that the Aussies themselves are an unwitting major tourist attraction?)
Trish herself seemed to be one in the manner she kept deferring to my wishes, thus proving that professionalism can be thoroughly considerate, gracious and personalized. While walking to the Woolloomooloo Wharf for a Japanese dinner, Trish, well-intentioned as ever, admonished me: "Dont run." I quickly replied, breathless: "Im not running. Im keeping pace with you!" We both laughed.
My guide/escort in Melbourne, the five-foot-ten Lesley Bryden, is even taller than Trish. Lesley picked me up at the airport in a brand new, firetruck-red car which she drove herself. A soignée, sophisticated woman with remarkable savoir-faire, she escorted me to theaters and museums as Trish did. From Lesley I learned that the world owes Melbourne: 1) the eight-hour labor law which divides the day into eight hours of work, eight of rest and eight of recreation; 2) the seatbelt and 3) the black box. I believe it was she who also told me that Melbourne residents have the unique distinction of eating their national emblem!
(From a Lebanese driver, I learned that one experiences all four seasons in a single day summer, winter, spring and autumn. No wonder I kept feeling alternately hot and cold in Melbourne.)
A former model married to an internationally-known vet they have three grown-up children and a few grandchildren Lesley has rubbed elbows with the Reagans, the King of Nepal, among other VIPs, and has lunched with the governors wife in Melbourne. My three guides/escorts call them "angels" provided me with an intriguing study in contrasts but each, to be sure, gave me invaluable assistance.
Although I spent relatively little time with my third and youngest "angel" Karen Webster she made every minute count with her charm, inexhaustible energy and infectious spirit. She took me and "Cookie", the Indian publisher of the international magazine Elle, to dinner in a swanky restaurant from where we saw seagulls flying over the river and golden leaves falling about.
I was to have met the eminent Thomas Woods earlier in the afternoon but his sudden flight to Brisbane just before conducting for "Opera in the Market" Its not what its name suggests changed our schedule. Assuming that the Brisbane trip and the concert, all in one day, would leave Mr. Woods exhausted, I had given up interviewing him altogether.
Fortunately, Karens jewel-of-an-aunt Marion Webster, an alto in the 100-member choir, came to us during intermission and agreed, in fact, insisted on bringing up the interview to Mr. Woods himself. Accordingly, after the concert, we wove our way in and out of the heavy human traffic, finally reaching the grounds just below the stage.
To my great astonishment, Mr. Woods momentarily left Premier Steve Bracks and Gov. John Landy, who were then congratulating him, to chat with me. The incident was yet again another "miracle" wrought by "angels" Karen and Marion.
I shall cite only one more "miracle", with salesgirls Irene and Angela as the "angels". In my haste, I had unknowingly left a small envelope containing US dollars on a counter inside the Duty Free Shop of the Sydney Airport, Terminal B. Seeing the tiny envelope, Irene asked Angela to whom it might belong. Having attended to me earlier, Angela rushed out and returned the envelope to me just minutes before I was to board my Qantas plane for Manila!
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