Another day of slabbing, carpentry and bottle wall cleaning. Enrique and I finally got into a sweet rhythm doing what had talen us two days in half a day on the second door. By clean-up time I could still have gone on for hours, and that’s how I knew it was time to try something new. Timber and tools were familiar friends, so it was time to learn a knew skill.

After dinner the interns in walking distance filtered into our humble abode. When we first realised we were staying here Sam and I, perfect stranger, hi-fived one another, it was nice. An experiment in a double storey city dwelling it had radiant slab heating, a double height courtyard and most importantly running water which we were told people in “the Pods” lacked. Ground floor and first both had a bedroom/kitchen and after some tossing of furniture between the levels a little table each. The four of us had leisurely lunches together being only a minute from site and we could here Jason strumming his guitar upstairs most night.

Most importantly there is a double height cistern system that was running low after a dry spell. Important because when a water delivery truck showed up they weren’t familiar with the system. Water began spilling across our kitchen floor and it was then with mop in hand that I got my first and perhaps only encounter with the great man of mystery Michel Reynolds. His first words to me were something like “we F@#$ed up”, then they did some tinkering and the tide receded.

Now packed with interns and instruments, the place hummed with random chords. Bris tried to teach us the Saw, but I could never quite get that sweet spot on the S curve. People were shy, but some nice melodies kept floating to the surface, fell to pieces in disharmony then rose up anew. I was beginning to like this place and these people a lot, and was almost missing them already knowing we’d only have a few weeks together.