I still remember that ferry ride from Circular Quay like it was yesterday. There was something quietly hopeful about being back on the water again – masks on, rules everywhere, but movement returning. The ferry hummed its way up the harbour and into the river, dropping me at Woolwich, and for a moment it felt like the city was stretching its legs after being cooped up for months.
From Woolwich I walked along the Parramatta River towards Hunters Hill, headphones in, taking in the calm streets and the water lapping against the shore. What made the walk especially memorable was listening to Game 3 of the World Series as I went. It felt surreal – a global sporting event playing out in my ears while Sydney slowly reopened around me. They played a cracking cover of Nothing Else Matters by Metallica to hype everyone up, and even through the commentary you could feel the tension and excitement.
Best of all, my team – the Atlanta Braves – won the game, pushing them ahead in the series. I remember smiling to myself as I walked, thinking how strange it was to feel such joy from the other side of the world during such a heavy period in history.
Not everything about that day sits well with me, though. I tried to pop into the Woolwich Pier Hotel for a drink and a rest, only to be turned away because I wasn’t vaccinated. Even now, that moment is burnt into my brain. It felt petty and absurd – another reminder of how divided and rule-bound life had become.
What hurts more, looking back, is that my grandfather was unwell at the time, staying in an aged care home in Hunters Hill. Even though I walked past the area that day, I wasn’t allowed to visit him. That restriction still makes me angry. Being able to walk freely along the river but not see your own family was one of the cruellest contradictions of that period.
It was a strange time in the world – moments of beauty and normality mixed with frustration, grief, and disbelief. That ferry ride, that walk, that baseball game, and those locked doors all blur together now as a snapshot of life at the end of lockdown: hopeful, tense, and deeply human.