Thru my Sydney Eye

Often, when I travel by train, I am one of very few in a carriage. I know I travel early in the day. I know, serendipitiously, I often get...

When I visit my brother - my "big" bro'- I make tne outward journey from Sydney Central without change, to Gosford. The enti...

Final look back at Hornsby. When we left Hornsby in the December of 1956, the eastern side of the railway line was all private housing, w...

The Salvation Army Hall was right on that corner, beneath all those ugly signs. You can just see the back of our house on the RHS. It was ...

This was my home from the age of 1 until I was just over 8. The sale notice recorded with Hornsby Shire Council, indicates that my father ...

At least through Hitchcock's "Rear Window" one is observing reality, because through my rear-view mirror, I am only observin...

Along Oakville Road, Willoughby stands this wonderfully preserved example of late Victorian shop frontage, now housing a private studio. O...

Vascular dementia is a mystifying ailment. This afternoon I showed my father the 1942 photograph of him astride a motorcycle in his backyard...