Sydney
I live near the main road here, running down to Coogee Beach. Sun-lovers slouch down it all weekend: Australian families, British backpackers, Swedish grannies, American students. Last week they came as usual, in their shorts and their sleeveless tops, their hats and their flip-flops and their suncream. But there was something wrong on Sunday: few carried towels.
They were on their way to the local Oval for a memorial service for 12 October. Our rugby team, the Dolphins, lost six members in Bali, and members of other teams from nearby suburbs were also among the murdered. This was Australia's day of mourning, and people came in their thousands.
The first words of the ceremony were those of John Lennon. We were asked to imagine all the pee-pull with no countries or religions to die for.
