Exhausting Wednesday
I’m in catch-up mode.
The last couple of weeks have been busy, and I’ve been reasonably tired.
Wednesday is best remembered as being the day I left my usual night at the pub early. Bloody exhausted.

It’s Sunday night and I’ve just watched “The Simpsons”. The last few days have seen a real explosion in my social life as I’ve gone from event to event. Bizarre really… isn’t it that with two weeks left in Perth suddenly I have lots to do. So, without further ado… here’s what I’ve been up to lately.
On Friday afternoon I went to the Government House Ballroom for the launch of the Perth International Arts Festival. Since David Mark from Sydney was in town, I invited him along for a glass of wine and a canape too while we caught up. The launch itself was interesting, as the organisers chose a catwalk for the main speakers to walk up and down which worked sometimes and didn’t others. When it was good, such as when the vocalist sang at the beginning, but when it was just a speech with clipboard, it began to take on “Anthony Robbins” motivational speech qualities. The ballroom itself, though, was just gorgeous.
Although, of course, I won’t be here for the festival, I was interested in some aspects of the program, including: Steven Berkoff Shakespeare’s Villains Steven Berkoff is considered of the world’s most acclaimed actors, writers and directors. He has electrified audiences with chilling productions such as East, Salome, and Coriolanus and as the archetype of evil in the films Octopussy, Beverly Hills Cop, Rambo and The Krays. and HG Nelson: On the Lurk (Australia) A bloke, a barbecue, a big screen and a bunch of ideas – what more could you want from arguably Australia’s finest cheese and cracker mind?
After that, Di and I headed off the Maritime Museum at Fremantle for the launch of the second series of Surfing The Menu. The publicity blurb for the series goes like this: Two hunky Aussie larrikins who just happen to be world class chefs, Ben O’Donoghue and Curtis Stone, have escaped their kitchens to embark on the adventure of a lifetime. With their surfboards and boning knives packed, they’ve hijacked a film crew to cook up a Gourmet Adventure Series that’s one part travel show and two parts cooking show. As Di is WA’s Tv publicist, I was briefly introduced to Curtis who seems like a nice bloke, though taller than I expected. Apparently the food for the launch was done by Ben Elton’s sister-in-law who lives in Perth. The combination of attending both events meant I didn’t have to worry about dinner on Friday night!
Yesterday was a gargantuan social day, starting off with lunch, which led to dinner and then to a fortieth birthday. I was invited to lunch by a lovely guy from work and his soon-to-be wife (they’ve been together 13 years) who are both terrific people: smart, good humoured, really nice people. Two other couples were invited, all of whom were also smart, good humoured nice people with interesting lives. For several hours we sat around, dissected the rights and wrongs of the world while enjoying a lovely meal in a great house. Could life get any better?
From there it was almost immediately straight off to dinner. I had dinner with Tiffany and three of her friends, Michael, Alistair and Terry who I met a couple of weeks ago at a trivia night. The result of that wonderful meeting of minds was a free dinner at Coco’s Riverside Restaurant And Bar. The food was reasonable, the service okay (I’m probably being kind), but the view was magnificent.
And then it was off to a fortieth birthday party for Russell from work. As was lunch and dinner, it was a terrific opportunity to catch up with smart, good-natured, people with whom I really bonded. We laughed, got angry, dissected the world and had a drink or seven.
I hope the next two weeks will be as much fun.
Tomorrow I’m catching up with a couple of ABBAMAILERS here in Perth, co-inciding with Christian Deligny’s visit for the Telstra Rally. I just spoke with Christian a short while ago and suggested inauspiciously named “The Lucky Shag” which is near The Belltower in the city as a good place to catch up tomorrow evening at about 6.00pm It’s has a great view and it’s central, so I thought he’d really like it. And of course, we can celebrate Frida’s Birthday!!!
It’s Saturday morning and it’s overcast in Perth. I’ve just made some coffee and Sue is currently making toast and will join me soon to help compose this latest entry. Ah, she’s here.
Sue arrived from Melbourne on Monday night. Although she was here only a few weeks ago, we didn’t really have much of a chance to catch up, due mostly to Sue’s work commitments. So, I was very pleased when she announced she was coming back for another visit. I think she’s had a reasonably busy year with work, study and life generally, so this was hopefully going to be a fairly relaxed week with plans to lie by the apartment block’s “Melrose Place-style” swimming pool and read books. So far there’s been a little bit of reading and not much swimming. Are you relaxed Sue? “Yes”, she says.
After picking up Sue from the airport on Monday night, we wandered back to the apartment and settled in for a lovely evening of television watching. In some ways it was odd, once again, to watch programs like “Queer As Folk” and “The Bill” in the same geographic location and in the same time zone! We usually just talk about them on the telephone afterwards… and with a three hour time zone difference between Western Australia and Victoria at the moment, that can sometimes be difficult.
On Tuesday, Sue came in to work for the Social Club Melbourne Cup Luncheon. It was my first Melbourne Cup in a couple of years since I mostly have to work. The last time I really celebrated Melbourne Cup was when Sue and I went to Dunk Island three years ago, which involved watching the famous Dunk Island Cup where horses raced along the beach. This was quite different: a lunchtime event on the Sundeck of the ABC Building. What also made it different was the time zone: here in Perth, the Melbourne Cup is a lunchtime event which is much more sensible, even if I had a meeting soon after lunch. Sue writes: I’m not actually that interested in horses running around in circles for money, but meeting some of the ABC people James has been talking about this year was great. I work with only a small team of people in our physical office so being part of a much bigger social scene at work is a new experience for me. We had fun and the horses running in circles didn’t really take up much of the time at all.
Another social highlight was going to dinner on Thursday night at the Indiana Tea House at Cottesloe Beach. As we sipped our cocktails – Margarita and Cosmopolitan – the sun set spectacularly into the Indian Ocean. Surprisingly, there weren’t all that many people there, since it’s usually a reasonably popular spot. As we waited for our meals to arrive, we watched the surf club go through its training paces, with Rottnest Island silhouetted in the distance.
While here, Sue has visited some people she knows and has gained some first hand experiences of West Australian customer service. Sue writes: Do you ever find it weird being in a different Australian city to the one you are from and doing things like going shopping? I think it’s weird – you can recognise the shops and speak the language but you feel incredibly anonymous – I’ve never seen any of these people ever before in my life. You know sometimes when you go shopping at “home” you see people you have seen in the shops or at the footy or on the bus or something. There is something strangely recognisable about them. I have had this bizarre experience over the last few days of feeling like I am in another dimension or something. I look like these people, I sound like these people but I am not of these people – it’s hard to discribe. Seems a much more normal experience when you are actually overseas.
To compensate I have visited some old friends which has been really fun. Arthur Muhl the breakfast presenter from Sonshine fm is an old friend of mine and I popped in to say hi to him and to catch up on his news. (While at Sonshine I saw one of James’ local bloggers Rodney Olsen – that made me smile.) I had coffee in Claremont with my friend Anne who is the chaplain at MLC here in Perth. Those re-connections were great and compensated for some of the weirder exchanges with strangers in the shops.
My “I just don’t believe this” experience was buying lunch in a food court. Admittedly I was a bit over being in the shops by the time I got to the food court. I’d been trying to buy a strapless bra and that while seeming to be straightforward had taken much more time than I was expecting. I kept running into gangs of women with prams and lots of ladies on extending family outtings to the shops. I’d searched fruitlessly for appropriate colours and styles and stood in change rooms endlessly waiting for shop staff (assistants seems like the wrong word) to get me different sizes or styles. I was a touch harassed (and a bit dehydrated) by the time I thought “must have lunch NOW.”
Anyway I find the foodcourt and wander about trying to decide what I want to eat. I spot duck in a display and think – Duck yes Duck! So I wander up the counter and say I’d like the $5.80 size plate with the duck please. Duck was an extra $2, oh well I want duck so $2 is okay. “Would I like plain or fried rice with that.” “Plain thanks.” “Did I want anything else?” “What else can I have?” “YOu can have anything.” “Oh.” Couldn’t really see anything else I wanted but the sign said I could have rice/noodles, meat dish and vegetable dish on my plate for $5. “Can I really have anything” “Yes would you like the stir fried veges?” (No they look awful.) “I’ll have some of the lamb curry thanks.” So she serves me a reasonably large serve of lamb curry. I’m confused but say nothing. She moves to the register and says that will be $7.80 thanks. “Where is the duck I ask?” Duck – she looks dumbfounded. “Yes” I say “I wanted duck”. Duck is $2 extra she says. Yes I say I’ve given you $7.80 and there is no duck – that is what I wanted. She looks more confused. I try and explain – “I wanted the duck, you said it was $2 extra…. you said I could have the veges but I said the lamb curry (not saying to her) which I don’t think looks that great either but seems more edible than the vegetables on offer…”
She takes the plate and puts on three very small pieces of duck and returns to me. I say “look I don’t understand. I wanted duck and I’m paying an extra $2. I don’t think paying extra is bad but I do think I want more duck for $2 than you have just given me – I don’t really want the lamb I wanted duck.” She looks appalled at my bad manners. I contemplate walking away and leaving her with the lamb but I decide I’m not going to do that and stand my ground. “I’d like some more duck please.” She looks even more appalled but goes and gets another tiny piece of duck. I’m outraged and again contemplate walking off but take my plate and leave. Each mouthful chokes me! I’m outraged at her attitude and desperately want to go over and explain what I thought happened. (I hate it when people think I’m being rude.) But I sit there eating it without enjoying it and decide I just have to get out of this stupid shopping centre this very minute – I can’t take it anymore I need to go home.
I arrive and lie on the couch watching “Playtime Disney” and The Big Arvo. Not exactly my usual viewing but watching Colin Buchanan be nice to little kids and having fun is somehow incredibly thereaputic. James arrives home sometime later and laughs loudly when I explain the interaction with the woman at the food court and the service in the shopping centre. Didn’t I know that WA stands for Wait Awhile and that service in Perth is handled differently from the Eastern States. Somehow I think that this thing about capitalising Eastern States – what on earth is that about – is actually linked to the exchange described above. I’m convinced I had “Eastern States” printed across my forehead in some kind of ink that is only visible to West Australians!
Thanks for that Sue. At last, I get my computer back!!!
Yesterday was a very “Catholic” day with our trip to New Norcia and watching “The Sound Of Music” on television last night. I’ll write about New Norcia in my next entry.
If I was at home, I probably would have opened a bottle of wine, collapsed on the coach, and then later on, surfed the net for a while. Needless to say, my life’s not like that in Narvik. First of all, I’m not arriving home stressed, a bottle of wine is too expensive to contemplate, and I’ve yet to find a wifi connection here. So last night after dinner, I was content with some reading and watching some television.
You know how I mentioned “Allsang pa Skansen”, the community singing program on Swedish television? Well, there’s an equivalent program in Norway called “Allsang pa Grensen”. The setting isn’t as glamorous as Skansen, though it obviously has some local importance and relevance. Unfortunately, I tuned in too late to see legendary country singer, Lynn Anderson who was a guest on the program. “I Never Promised You A Rose Garden” was her biggest hit, and a childhood favourite of mine. There was also a Freddie Mercury impersonator who kept urging the audience to “rock it”. He was quite good. In Australia, of course, the usual response to “We Will Rock You”, is the refrain “fuck you, fuck you, stick it right up you”. I was a little disappointed the Norwegian audience failed to respond in the same way. Now that would have been a Youtube moment…
And then after that, there was the nine o’clock news on TV2. Oddly enough, it didn’t appear to actually contain any “real news” until about seven minutes into the bulletin. The first part of the bulletin seemed to be stories about ordinary people, and their reactions to news and life. It wasn’t until about eight minutes into the bulletin before Condoleeze Rice popped her head up. Quite refreshing, I thought. I’ve also noticed there’s a lot of American programming on Scandinavian television. Lots of CSI. Lots of Cold Case. Lots of “Funniest Home Videos”. All of the American programs seems to be confined to just one channel in both Norway and Sweden. It’s kinda good to know that when I want some English language programming I know exactly where to find it. There’s not a lot of television from elsewhere, including the UK and Europe, aside from a few home makeover programs. I have to say, though, in both countries, I haven’t been able to find much “quality programming” on free to air. Maybe it’s just the non-ratings period?
Over breakfast this morning, I met a Swedish woman who comes from a small town near Eskilstuna (not far from Stockholm). She told me she had only planned this holiday last week, “Because life is so well planned, that sometimes you just need to be spontaneous”. The town she is from is, apparently very beautiful. We were later joined by a Norwegian couple. As the conversation continued in English, I suggested that since I spoke a little Swedish there was no need to speak in English. They seemed relieved! I think I understood about twenty-five percent of what was going on. I was completely lost when a funny story was told. It was just too complex and too fast. Anyway, the Norwegian couple told a story about the nearby Lofoten Islands. Apparently, several years ago the local authorities had built a bridge from the mainland to the islands at enormous expense. They didn’t, however, build a tunnel through the mountain at the other end. Thus, the bridge sat there completely unused for about fifteen years. “A typical Norwegian story”, the Swedish woman said laughingly.

I set out on my own little adventure today, determined to see a little more of the area beyond Narvik itself. I was determined, however, that it should remain relaxing. Nothing too strenuous, and nothing too rushed for this part of my holiday. So I packed my bag with a couple of oranges, some water, and my camera and started walking towards the nearby village of Beisfjord, which is about ten kilometres away. I chose there because I knew there was a regular bus route, and that if I get exhausted, bored, or the weather turned, I could always catch the bus. As it turned out, the weather has been spectacular. It’s like one of those great winter days in Sydney where the sun gently warms your bones. It’s warm enough for me to wear shorts and a shirt, though I packed my jumper just in case.

Along the way I had a chance to really have a close look at the local vegetation and rock forms. Sorry if you find this kinda stuff boring, because I find it quite interesting. I don’t remember enough about high school geology to remember if quartz is often found near iron ore, but there’s a hell of a lot of quartz in the area, nonetheless. There’s also a lot of very small plants, with those tiny flowers you often associate with alpine regions. Everything on the roadside is also growing wild and lush. Also in people’s backyards, they just seem to have let everything grow wild. I’ve yet to hear a lawn mower. I guess it’s because summer is so short, that they just let everything grow wild.

When I finally made it to Beisfjord, I sat there for an hour or so eating my oranges and looking at the mountains and the water. It’s truly wonderful landscape. Moments of wonderful contemplation. Not having the desire to walk all the way back, I sat for a while at the bus stop, waiting for the bus which I knew arrived at about three o’clock. Sitting just metres away from me was a teenage boy of about fifteen. You could see from the look on his face he seemed quite confused by me. After a few minutes he came over and asked me what time the bus was due to arrive (as if I’d know!) and then asked me where I was from. We chatted until the bus arrived. I got the sense from him of excitement in meeting someone from outside his small village in the far north of Norway. I know, because I was the same teenage kid growing up in country Australia. Because Narvik is really very remote, you can imagine the kids here would have same kind of issues faced by kids in many remote towns all over the world. The isolation. Concerns about jobs after high school. You know the stuff I mean.

Anyway, I’ve just arrived home after a quite exhausting day. I mean, it’s only four o’clock in the afternoon, and so there’s still plenty of the day left. It’s Friday night and I’d like to “do” something with my Friday night. But what do people in Narvik do on a Friday night? Is there a pub with a meat tray somewhere?
Although I’m sure it would have been useful, I’ve been holding off on buying an umbrella while travelling. I’ve been thinking it’s just one more bit of crap to carry around. And besides, I have a very good leather jacket, which is both warm and water-proof, and I also have a cap that keeps my head dry, which is surprisingly important if you’re follically challenged. But today, after the second continuous day of rain in Prague, with my cap soaked through, I bought an umbrella.
It was one of those cheap ones I knew would only last a day or two. For only $3 Australian, I’m please to say it’s survived the day reasonably intact. But yeah, crap. And remember those underpants I bought in Latvia or Estonia (I don’t remember)? Well, they’ve turned out to be pretty crap also.
So with terrible weather today, I looked for something totally indoors to do. I noticed the other day a poster for the International Trienalle of Contemporary Art at the National Gallery of Prague, and so I’ve spent most of the day there.
It’s a really great overview of a range of contemporary visual art, including painting, photography, sculptures, installations and video. There is so much to see in the exhibition, it’s almost exhaustive to recount what I saw on about four separate levels of the gallery.
The most memorable works for me, though, were the following.
* A black on black landscape piece by Sven Druhl. It’s a forest scene and it’s just beautiful, even though everything is painted black.
* Chi Peng has a wonderful large photograph which portrays a field of hundreds of Buddas.
* Jae-une Choi has a great four-screen video piece where he does four individual dances to a simple atmospheric piece of music.
* There’s a very moving piece by Adi Nes which is a series of photographs of modern people, many of them apparently homeless, portraying stories from the Bible.
* Mariusz Waras has a great piece called “Drop & Drag City” where people are encoured to interact with the art, to actually move magnetic buildings on an imaginery city themselves. Great fun, and apparently you can do it online too.
* Marek Schovanek has an inspired piece which portrays a series of mounted throphies, like the ones you see with stuffed animal heads. Instead, because we don’t hunt anymore, he’s used parts of shopping trolleys to imitate the antlers.
* There’s also a very funny photograph, based on that famous painting of dogs playing poker called “Monkey Disco” which is just as the name applies.
In other news, I’ve decided I’m going to campaign for smoke-free bars in Prague. Although I’ve never smoked a cigarette in my life, I’ve never been to much of a fascist when it comes to smokers. I wouldn’t have anyone smoke in my house, but I don’t get upset if a friend and I have a glass of wine together on a balcony or something like that, and they smoke. Mostly, it doesn’t worry me.
Here in the Czech Republic, however, they don’t appear to have any anti-smoking laws at all. And it’s awful. Last night, for example I went in search of a friendly little bar I’d found on the internet called, “Friends”. It’s a nice enough place, mostly inhabited by men my age, and ten years younger or older than myself. But everyone smoked! It was like the smoking room at Changi Airport in Singapore which is disgusting even from the outside.
Thankfully though I found another place called Valentino, located about ten minutes from the hostel at Vinohradska 40. Although the restaurant/bar section you walk into can be a little intimidating, it’s much better downstairs where there are two more bars. One plays lots of camp and girly stuff (along with some disco classics), and even the occasional Czech language pop hit. The the other plays more “serious” dance music. You know: the stuff you can’t sing along to.
There was a really great vibe about the place, with lots of smiling faces without the chemical reliance you often see in Sydney. That said, I thought the “serious” dance space was on the verge of developing a little bit of that awful generic western gay ‘tude. Or maybe there were just too many tourists there?
But one of the best things about the place is they seemed to have got their anti-smoking ventilation system working pretty well. And although I was only there for a short while, I’ll probably head back there again sometime. Maybe tonight?
I don’t know why I needed to go looking for a gay bar though, as it seems I have one right downstairs in the cafe of the hostel where I’m staying. In the midst of the UK lager-louts, there’s a surprising number of gay men staying here (mostly with their “best female friend”). It must be the furnishings.
Actually I probably will head out for a drink and a dance tonight at that bar just around the corner.
I hope the rain clears up though, as it’s starting to shit me a bit. On our tour yesterday, the guide showed us the level of the last big floods six years ago which affected the Lower Town. It reminded me of when I was in Germany at the age of 17 when, visiting Cologne, I was there for the start of their big floods. Hopefully, that won’t happen here.
I spotted some Obama Coffee on someone’s desk at work today. Obamaccino, to be precise. Classic eh?
As I’ve arrived home from work, I’m trying to decide between staying up to watch/listen to the inauguration, as opposed to getting a few hours sleep.
I suspect this is going to be one of those “where were you when…?” kind of events.
I loved listening to the older black Americans on the radio this morning who remembered the civil rights movement, and who had a direct family connection to slavery, and how important it was for them.
Ultimately, of course, he’s still a politician, and will probably never reach the high hopes that so many people have invested so much emotional energy into him.
Symbolism is important though. In fact, I was talking about it with friends on the weekend: the symbolism of the election of the United States’ first President from a non-caucasion background. That for all their faults in America – the history of slavery, the racism, the poverty, etc, etc – they’ve actually managed to do something I just can’t see occurring in Australia in either the short or even medium-term.
And then when you look at American television, you also quickly realise they somehow seem to have managed to have come a hell of a lot closer to a genuine representation of their population than we have in Australia. They have Asian and African-American faces on television, and no-one seems to blink, whereas we still struggle over which middle-aged white man is gonna host Channel 9 News.
Yeah I know we have two quite different countries, with different issues, and significantly different populations, and so the issues are a little more complex.
But wouldn’t it be great if the new host of Channel 9 News was a black woman and no one needed to comment on either her gender or her race, except to say “She’s great, or she’s bloody terrible”?
I suspect I’ll try to get a few hours sleep and then wake up half way through the night to watch a bit of history in the making.
And maybe, just maybe, to keep me awake, I’ll have an Obamaccino.
Every time I catch a plane I try to avoid eye contact with the other passengers as they come down the aisle towards me. I’m thinking, “If I don’t look at you, you won’t sit next to me, and I’ll be able to have two seats to myself”. It’s a crazy thought and nine times out of ten it never happens, but today it did. Today it’s just me and one other sharing four seats for the final part of my journey home to Sydney.
It was such a relief, as I was starting to feel a little fragile. The first part of the trip home was a bit of a breeze actually. As always, I was asleep before take-off, woke in time for the evening meal (chicken rice or beef rice), read for a while, organised some photographs for a while, and woke up just in time for breakfast. I woke feeling pretty good, and the time zone difference was manageable.
I thought I could sleep well on planes until I discovered the bloke next to me. I’ll call him Soren, as he was Danish. He wasn’t asleep before take-off, but he spent most of the flight passed out even up until landing. The flight attendant woke him with a fright when she asked him to put his table upright.
With a few hours to kill at Beijing airport I was hoping to check in at the airport hotel where I caught a few hours of shut-eye on the way to Stockholm. As the next part of my trip was a domestic flight to Shanghai, I wasn’t able to do that. The domestic section of Beijing airport doesn’t have quite the facilities of the international. I struggled to find an ATM, and there was nowhere where I could have a shower to freshen up. So I found a quiet space, used my hand-luggage as a pillow and picked up an extra two hours deep, dream-sleep.
It was beef rice of chicken rice again from Beijing to Shanghai and once again I chose the beef. I always figure there’s a lot more that can go wrong with chicken and seafood, and so beef is always a safer option.
At Shanghai things started to get a little difficult. At Stockholm I was able to check my luggage right the way through to Sydney, but was told I would need to pick up a boarding pass for the Shanghai to Sydney part of the flight once I arrived in China. In Beijing they said I would need to do it in Shanghai, and in Shanghai they told me that was wrong. They also told me my luggage was in Shanghai not Sydney and I would need to go back to the arrivals terminal to pick up my bag which had been circling around for a few minutes. I couldn’t instantly get back in, of course, and had to negotiate my way back through a staff entrance.

That’s when I started to think “this is all too hard” and was starting to feel the effects of long-distance travel. That’s when I was also starting to feel a bit sticky and grumpy and desperately in need of a shower. As there wasn’t one at the airport, I headed to the nearby airport hotel. Sadly, I couldn’t book a room for a few hours. “How much is a room for the night?” I asked the attendant. When she told me it was about $70 AUD, any sense of middle-class, Catholic or first-world guilt disappeared quickly. “I’ll only be there for two hours”, I told her, “but yes, I’ll have a room for the night”. I had a great shower, had a little lie down, changed my clothes, and was well and truly feeling much better.
Having enjoyed a really relaxing wonderful holiday, I didn’t want it to end with an arrival back in Sydney where I was feeling grumpy and jet-lagged. Now, with the extra leg-room and sleeping-space afforded by the extra seat, I feel like I may have avoided it.
Oh yeah, and it was beef with rice or seafood with rice for tonight’s evening meal. I went with the beef again.
“It only takes a day to get to Australia”, I kept telling people in Sweden in reply to their “Oh Australia is such a long way away” comments. I’m trying to believe it’s really so.
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