I left for Katoomba, in the Blue Mountains early in the morning. I'd booked one night in a Motel just to see if I found anything I liked. 2 Hours on a train, short walk, breakfast at a cafe owned/operated by a cult, and a slightly longer walk later I arrived at the 3 Sisters Motel.

The Motel is not managed by 3 Sisters, instead named for a geological formation of 3 rocky outcroppings a short walk away. Less than 2 minutes walk away is the 3 Explorers Motel, similarly not run by an adventuring trio but in honour of some early settlers. In describing where I was visiting, I have rarely typed and deleted apostrophes so often.

I spoke to the Motel manager, a ritual I thought would be good to repeat in future. I would be staying in room 13. He said he had been the manager of the Motel for the last 6 years. His inflection when saying this implied he may have held a different position at the same motel prior, and that 6 years ago was just his version of transitioning from BC to AD.

Before I'd met the man I'd met the reception room. I had arrived 2 hours before check in and had peered through the glass doors for any sign of life. Bare room with a desk, a computer screen and a phone. The only item in the room that stood out to me was a framed portrait of a man in a suit. In my head that was the patriarch of the 3 Sisters Motel family business, passed down through generations for decades. At the time nobody had arrived to greet me, so I had moved on and wandered through the mountain fog for a few hours.

Now meeting the man, there was a passing resemblance to the framed man. I asked if the painting was of a relative. But he informed me it was His Majesty The King, followed immediately with "I'm a royalist."

We had already discussed my Irish heritage, he had also mentioned that his wife was Irish. Something about me not recognising his monarch shifted the tone of our chat. He suddenly seemed to have somewhere he needed to be. I asked how his wife felt about the portrait. "She is a Royalist."

I'm not much of an Irish nationalist beyond liking the Ken Loach film The Wind that Shakes the Barley, and was not expecting the conflict to play out through the ripples of space and time.

I regret not asking for a picture of him in his office. The King had other ideas.