There was a puzzling empty neatness to the wide, sealed roads, gutters and footpaths, and the foliage on the roadside plants appeared faded and dusty, as if the rainy season had refused to arrive. Pak Harto had explained there were four seasons in Sydney, and no wet or dry season like he was used to, and when Adi heard this he wondered what it would be like to experience autumn, winter and spring.
Only once in his life had he experienced bitter cold, and that was when he and his friends had climbed the northern slopes of Mount Merapi in the early dawn. Then the cold had possessed them like a demon. It seeped into their skin and bones and did not leave them until they came down from the mountain and were right back in the village again. How their feet had ached as they slipped and slid on
