Dearest Elinor,
It has been many months since my last correspondence with you and I must immediately apologise for my tardiness and the long and overdue period of silence that has left you bereft of information regarding my new situation here in Sydney.
Ever since my ship has set sail to the Colonies in the Pacific, my journey has been one of ardor and enlightenment. Certainly, the degree of which I have embraced my new life has been dictated by the necessary arrangements to feel at home in my new surroundings, but I am pleased to inform you I feel very settled indeed in my new home.
Now, I hear you inquire, about these men of the New World? I believe you must be quite eager to hear my stories of social and coital engagements with the surly gentlemen of this fine coutry, whom may I add, know no nothing of high tea or of grand balls in Meryton. Be patient no more dearest Elinor and I shall reveal all.
The search for love and a suitable single man in command of good fortune continues still, I am afraid to report. There have been two or three significant encounters during my travels of the 'Wilderness' they call Sydney. Traversing through the lanes of the Eastern Suburbs I have met a number of significant gentlemen who were fair of face and of good breeding. I use the word 'significant' to emphasise the fact there were others who caught my eye. But alas, unfortunately this is all they did. For certainty, I might as well have caught a head cold and experienced greater joy and pleasure from the experience of meeting them.
The men of this country are a predictable breed I have deduced. Many of the maturer gentlemen pride themselves in their appearance and groom themselves quite intensely and 'work out' a great deal. This gives many the illusion of youth and vigor but does nothing to improve their seemingly apparent lack of personality and individualism. The more younger of the men who parade down Sydney's Oxford St are also bereft of any individuality, due to the fact they are hypnotised by the latest fashions from the city and seem to have the desire to leave their hair unkempt, as if dragged through a thoroughfare. They also have no skills in punctuation, spelling or grammar when it comes to correspondence through telephonic or 'on the line' devices. The ghastly over use of 'LOL', 'dat', 'wud' and 'kewl' are abundant and quite frankly leaves conversation incomprehensible.
Everything is not at a complete lost however, for I have also encountered some genuine and rather chivalrous men indeed in my travels. One who has redeemed a fair amount of faith I had previously lost in the process of courtship by behaving as an utmost gentlemen towards me, even though our own courtship together tragically was not to last. Others have been spontaneous and dare I say it wild and would cause any fine lady to blush if spoken openly even in a letter. I am wicked woman for allowing my petticoat to slip even an inch below the knee, let alone shoot past the ankle and onto the parlor floor. I do hope you do not judge me so dear Elinor, for you should know I am not a woman who sits comfortably with the label of 'easy virtue'. Truly I am. But in confidence my dear friend, I have to admit, it has been quite pleasurable indeed.
All experiences for the soul to grow my friend, I have decided. I find myself happily embracing the 'single life', a phrase much more preferential than the term 'spinster' I can tell you. I move on, clutching the hem of my dress and marching towards the Australian sunset and the rest of my future in a new world full of potential.
Until pen meets parchment once more, my love as always.
Yours, Emily.
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