At the end of two weeks, just as we are preparing to leave Sydney for Canberra, we finally made time to go to Meadowbank. I was teary eyed and also in shock, as the train went across the Paramatta river and the Meadowbank skyline came into view. Shepherds Bay, they had called it, when the first building over three floors was taking shape. Today it stands dwarfed amidst the dozens of high rises that have sprung up there. It wasn’t the same. I had been warned, but couldn’t believe it. No, I couldn’t come back to live here. It’s not Au Revoir Meadowbank, it’s not even goodbye. It is just moving on as one grows away and upwards, to the next chapters of life.
It was dusk, it I don’t think it matters. I was thinking that when we return to Sydney next weekend, perhaps I should go back again, maybe we will, but I know that magic is lost. Yet, not quite. Not having heard any birds, I heard my first kookaburra of this trip as we walked down through the wooded park, towards the ferry terminal.
Veenu Banga
6th November 2025.
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