The cafe in the Balmoral cinema has a wall of recycled windows, peeking through to a grey patterned wall paper.
We eat chips, spinach and ricotta rolls, and barramundi, and my youngest, toying with numbers, calculates how much time we have to eat before we can line up for the cinema to find the best seats. We have booked our seats on line, and arrived early to enjoy our outing even more.
Youngest has planned our outing to this movie for many weeks, and asks’ Have you seen the trailer.’ He loves movies. Recently he has been contemplating acting.
We see a large chandelier, and thick red curtains. It is like going to an old style theatre, or early forties cinema.
I recall Babinda’s deck chairs, never again, the cinema chairs from hell. I know what a wuss, but an old deck chair for two hours is not the most comfortable thing.
The Balmoral cinemas, thankfully, are cushy and comfortable. There are booster seats for those who feel they will need more height to see the screen.
There are a few large groups of friends who have met up at the cinema, they seem to be twelve to fourteen mostly. Initially their popcorn is noisy, cracking so loud it stands out over the trailers, thankfully they are all finished by the time the movie begins, and the movie would probably drown them out too.
We are here to see The Martian, with Matt Damon. A Castaway story set on Mars. It is as brilliant as my son hoped. Reviews are not always reliable, but this one is. His scientist Dad, loves it, and only has a few very minor complaints.
My eldest, who is highly critical, gives it a nine, that is high praise indeed!
(c) June Perkins 1/10/2015 (Australia)
For every day of October I will write. A memory, or a poem, a fragment, something, just something. Sometimes it might be short, sometimes long. Sometimes I might even edit an old piece.