the other side of the world bit

Robert Gjoeb woke up on the couch, threw off the blanket and shuffled to the doorway in the dark. He flicked on the dining room light and looked at the time. Pen and paper in hand, he headed for the toilet.
Then he returned to make a cup of coffee.
After that he sat on the deck and smoked a cigarette.
The estuary was a mystery buried in motorway lights. A mid point between mud and heaven.
Auckland. Third windiest city in the world if Marco was right. Marco was a yachtie. He should know.
A cat sidled up to his feet.
“Hello,” it said.
The other side of the world.
But here it was too dark to read, the light switches were upside down, and the wind had died.