Policemen walking my dog on a train

Today I'm pleased to report that attempt #3 of visiting Newcastle (the nearest industrial town, a 3 hour train ride north of Sydney) was a success! Photos to follow :)

The train was busy, so I lurked in the end compartment of one of the carriages, absentmindedly trying to learn to yoyo (see prior post).

My mind was dagger-sharp, focused on honing my soon-to-be l33t yoyoing sk1llz. Up and down, down and up it went, slowly bending to my will. As Sydney faded into memory and the long stretch of rural stations beckoned, man and machine became one.

Looking up from my dedicated training, I stare straight at two tough-looking State Transit Police (a 30-something man and woman) who had wandered into the compartment whilst my attention was focussed on the work at hand. Somewhat shocked, I blubbered something and we got chatting. After a few minutes, we spun onto the heady topic of yoyos. The policeman said that I was doing it all wrong, and sensing his yoyo-envy, I offered the object of my previous attentions to him. Sheepishly at first*, yet joyfully he performed a demonstration.

The highlight? After I swore never to teach it, he demonstrated the unspoken dark arts of police yoyo training known as 'tayoyo diabolique' (Yoyos were originally Filipino weapons). I pity the Perp that tries to get away from cops trained in such a barbaric skill using something that - up until I handed it over - had seemed so innocuous.

They both left the train at the next station and I continued my journey pleasantly bemused at what had happened.

NB: One paragraph may be big fat lies. I leave it to the reader's discretion to decide which.

* He persuaded his slightly disbelieving partner to stand guard on the door to the main compartment to stop anyone seeing him do it!