I didn’t expect to be able to whip out a Sonata in the first couple of days, but it didn’t take me more than a few hours after having the piano delivered to realise that becoming a competent piano player is hard work. Stephen from Brunswick Pianos managed to squeeze the 1917 Schiller in through the narrow hallway and into place in a few minutes with only minimal crunching of other doors and furniture. He spent a fair chunk of the $100 tuning fee and the $200 delivery fee telling me how bad Ebay is and how only very few people get a good deal when it comes to pianos. He then told me I was one of the lucky ones. How the pins were fantastically tight (oooh!!) and it looked like it had been restrung. About how if he sold it in his shop, it would go for 2.5k. He spent half an hour inserting Dickensian tools into the bowels of the beast, and then sat back and played some lovely tunes, including Ryuichi Sakamoto’s “Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence”. Kim and I both thought it was wonderful. Left to my own devices, it’s been a bit tricky getting that instant connection between note-on-page and note-on-keyboard working. I’m always hitting A instead of C. And more frustrating is being able to play individual parts of a piece (i.e Air in D minor by Henry Purcell) on each hand, and then crucifying the combination. Again and again. So I don’t drive the family or myself insane, I give a tune 3 full attempts with the softness pedal down. Also, my fingers feel weak – I’ve neglected them with years of 6 finger typing. Worst of all, just when I’m starting to improve, I find myself in Perth for a week or so, losing fitness and musical conditioning. Kim thinks I should cutout a paper keyboard and lay it across the hotel bed and practise. I think she was serious. Hmm. 
Stephen Rae works his magic