The accent

We headed to Elporto for lunch at the Fishbar . Easter Sunday , 15 minutes up the road , just Leroy , Emma and myself . We got the recommendation from a guy at the StPatricks day street party . We only got talking to him because his mate was an Aussie , who just happened to be visiting . The Fishbar is your fine dining type of establishment, well sort of . Inside it’s classic American ; booths , wall to wall tvs , a horse shoe bar with punters sucking on cocktails , bench seating and relaxed . After being seated and slowly draining a ‘great white ‘( another fine beer ) a family shifts in right next to us . Immediately I sense it , her face is weathered , fit , experienced . I’m onto it , Emma’s talking but I’m listening with one ear , the other is honing in on the woman and her family .She’s talking but the background noise drowns out her voice . Then I hear it : “Whaddya you guys want for lunch? “Unmistakable, an Aussie accent . Fuck it I’m boots in , I interrupt there lunch talk , “Do I hear an Aussie accent there ” The woman looks over with a big a smile , “You sure do ” . She asks if we are on holidays? “Nup , we live here , yourself?” “Same ” . We live a couple of suburbs apart ( 10 mins ) .Before long our whole lunch schedule is on hold as we get the lowdown on each others background . Jodie is from Melbourne , moved here in the mid 2000s ( I forget ) to settle with her partner . We end up talking football , she’s a cats fan and quickly the 2009 Grandfinal comes up ( the pain ) , next we’re onto sandpaper gate and the cricket , followed by surfing . Her partner suggests we change the seating so we can talk and the other half of our families can settle in for Easter lunch . Eventually ( after an excellent meal ) we exchange details and connect through Facebook . The following lunchtime I head over to Mira Costa high school to pick Leroy up from baseball camp ( spring break , kids often go to day camps ) . He’s up the far end , I’m forced to walk around the outside , past the soccer field ,when I see a man watching 3 boys kicking a ball around . I hear him talking from a good 20 meters away . Wow , did I just pick that up . He said “hey mate give your brother a go .” I slowly walk past, but the kids are playing and dads just watching . Nah I can’t do it , I keep walking , feel like a stalker . I get to Leroy’s camp and I’m filled with regret . It can’t hurt to say hello , I know it’s not done over here and especially to complete strangers but my brain tells me that this bloke is an Aussie and my intuition is twisting in my gut . I realise I’ve gone the wrong way and had to go inside the fence line to get to Leroy’s camp , I’ve got to go back the way I’ve come in . I walk back past the guy and his kids and I can just pick his voice up over his kids banter . Nah can’t do it , I walk past . I’m 20 meters past when fuck it , I’m going back there . “Hey mate , you’re not an Aussie are you ? “. ” Yeah mate , you too ?” That’s two complete strangers in 24 hours that I’ve opened up a conversation to ( not my strong suit ) . 10 minutes of non stop talking between us and there feels an instant bond . Pete is from Sydney , but his family has just spent the last 3 years in Switzerland and London before that . We exchange details and agree to catch up for a beer . Yeah , we’ve got things in common , but there’s factors . Socially we are strong , we can talk , and not just about the weather . You do feel emboldened because you feel a bit unique , but fellow Aussies know that our country is special . We are wealthy , we are not divided and we can talk to anyone , our guard is down . Our connection is strong , when you live in another country you yearn for your own . I hope to catch up with these guys for a beer ….or 4 .