Yvette and I caught up for lunch at a nearby Chinese and shared life-stories. It seems like both of us are in a reasonably good place at the moment.
And then tonight, Damien and I caught up for dinner. Initially, we had a small bite to eat at Agave, the new Mexican place I mentioned the other week, and then at Yulli’s my favourite small bar in Surry Hills.
It’s great, isn’t it, to have one of those really great days when you get to catch up with people you’ve known so well for so long?
Oh, and I bought a couple of tickets for the forthcoming performance of Forbidden Broadway in Sydney.
As much as I love dance music, I gotta say I’m a little bored with it, as it hasn’t really changed much in the last ten years. It still sounds the same now as it did ten years ago, as it reverberates through my apartment block.
Yes, once again, tonight, there’s a party on my rooftop. And yes, I’m sure I received a notification about it a couple of weeks ago, and I’m sure I read it. But of course, I didn’t take much notice, as I assumed I wouldn’t be home at this time on a Saturday night.
No doubt it’s someone moving overseas. Or maybe they’re turning 30 or 40 or 50? And isn’t it great they’ve given all the neighbours advance notice, so they should make alternative arrangements?
What, of course, they failed to mention, however, is that like every other party that’s ever happened on my rooftop is that, they’d be playing exactly the same music as every other party has. Doof, doof, doof. Bop, bop, bop. Why doesn’t music have words anymore?
Yes, the same old beat, the same old rhythm. It’s just party muzak, where the words, the tune, the rythm doesn’t matter anymore. Of course, the same old finger-food doesn’t matter either. Ten years ago it was turkish pizza (it was soo exotic)… what is it now, sushi? Of course, it’s sushi, the food you eat when you’re not eating food.
What time is it? 11pm. God forbid, we can probably expect a drag show at midnight. Ten years ago, it would have been Kylie or Madonna. Now, of course, it’s… it’s… it’s probably Kylie or Madonna, too.
Yes, I’ve had these parties, myself. I’ve made these noises, myself. But isn’t it time for them, these young folks, to re-invent the rooftop party, instead of playing out the same old party that forty year olds, like myself, have already done?
Damn, I wish I’d read that note properly. And no, I don’t wish I was invited.
P.S. The doof doof was still coming from the rooftop when I woke at 5.30am Sunday.
The countdown has truly begun for my trip to Thailand, Sweden, and the UK, and I’m pretty much packed.
I visited the chemist this morning for my prescriptions and saw my prosthetist yesterday to ensure my leg is ready for the journey. I know my limb volume will fluctuate in different climates—especially moving from the tropical heat of Thailand to the Arctic air of Sweden—so I’m prepared for that. Will (the prosthetis) stabilised some of the joints to keep everything in top shape for the walking I’ll be doing.
For months, I’ve been studying videos of Stockholm street style to track the transition through the seasons. Watching videos posted just this week, my focus is a bit different from the average viewer. I’m looking closely at the ground: light to moderate snowfall is visible, and the footpaths are covered in a layer of slush and packed snow. While there is evidence of grit or sand for traction, the surface looks potentially slippery. I even noticed some pedestrians holding onto each other for support, which confirms my feeling that some areas might be a bit precarious for me.
My research into the recent weather shows that Sweden has been hit by a significant “Arctic blast” this January. Northern parts of the country recorded temperatures as low as –41°C, and even in Stockholm, daily highs have struggled to get above –3°C with nights dropping to –10°C. January has been quite heavy on the snowfall, and since this cold spell is expected to remain “locked-in,” the ice and slush I saw in those videos will likely still be there when I arrive in mid-February.
Comparing my travel month to January, February is actually statistically the coldest month of the year in Stockholm, with average lows of –5°C. However, I’ve found that February is generally drier with less overall precipitation than January.
The most heartening change is the daylight: by mid-February, I’ll be enjoying much more than the 7 hours of light they get in January. By the time I head to Sundsvall for Melodifestivalen at the end of the month, the city will have gained nearly 3 hours of daylight compared to the start of the year, making those snowy streets much brighter.
In terms of gear, I’ve packed my thermals and layers, but watching the locals has helped me decide on the right beanies and gloves. Most people in the video are heavily bundled in stylish winter attire. I’ve also scrutinised their footwear and feel confident in the shoes I’ve chosen for the transition between climates.
One of the most refreshing observations wasn’t about the weather or clothes, though. In Sydney, it feels like everyone is obsessed with their mobile phones while walking. Looking at these Stockholm videos, it’s almost revolutionary: while you see a few people on their devices, most are actually looking ahead, taking in their surroundings, or—heaven forbid—actually talking to one another!
Despite the Swedish reputation for being private, they seem far less glued to their screens than what I see back home. It’s a great reminder to look up and enjoy the view, even if I have to keep one eye on the snow!
About a month ago, my friend Michaela and I were in New York together. In contrast to Sydney with its’ 1.30 lockout, and where it’s near impossible to get a restaurant meal after about 9.30, you can go and do anything at virtually any time in The Big Apple. Memorably, there was one night when, having been to a show, we arrived at a restaurant called Balthazar at maybe 10.30 or 11.00 at night. And memorably, seated metres away from us was none other than Salman Rushdie.
In contrast, we met this week for an early meal at a Crown Street restaurant called Besser. As we arrived at the door, we saw another famous person enjoying their meal. “I love Noni Hazlehurst”, I said to Michaela with a smile, “but I can’t help but contrast this with New York”. In common, the service and the meals at both restaurants were excellent.
Besser, which has an Italian menu is located in the space where Billy Kwong’s used to be. “Everything is meant to be shared”, the waitress told us.
We had some chicken, some greens and some potatoes. The chicken was possibly the best chicken I’ve eaten in years. Moist. Tasty. Brilliant.
When the bill arrived, we noticed we had spent significantly more on the wine than we had on the food. That happens, I guess. And anyway, it was a great place to discover, and I’ve been recommending it heartily ever since.
The other place in Surry Hills that’s really taken off is a new pizza place (Via Napoli, I think it’s called), located in what was Franco Franco on Crown Street, closer to Cleveland Street. Every night I’ve walked past the place has been packed. And last night, there was actually a significantly lengthy queue. I’m sure I’ll get there one day.
You know how some people hate trains? They just can’t stand travelling on them. They think they’re dirty and smelly. That, or they hate the timetables, or they don’t go in the right direction. Or they fear for their safety after a certain hour at night. Well, I actually quite like trains. But there’s one thing about the Sydney train system that drives me wild. It’s the fact that Olympic Park remains the #1 choice on the ticket machines.
Since Olympic Park opened in the late 90s, I’d estimate I’ve been there about twenty times. I went to the Olympics and the Paralympics, I go every year for the Royal Easter Show, and I’ve been there for the odd concert. And for these major events is usually pretty fast by train. But aside from these major events, getting to Olympic Park by train is usually quite difficult. Mostly, you have to catch a couple of connecting trains, and even then you often have to sit and wait for up to half an hour for the connection.
So why is Olympic Park still the #1 choice on the ticket machines? Why isn’t it City Circle or something else? The number of times I’ve pressed Olympic Park instead of City Cricle alone would amount to thousands of dollars in lost productivity.
And why does Macdonaldtown get a higher billing than Redfern or Newtown? In all the time I’ve been in Sydney, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone get off the train at Macdonaldtown.
It’s pure madness! Mr Iemma and Mr Watkins – please do something about this.
As a long time fan of Frida, aka Anni-Frid Lyngstad or “the dark one” from ABBA, I was really excited when I heard news of the release of this DVD to co-incide with her 60th birthday. I bought it a couple of months ago, watched it from start to finish, and have come back to it on many occasions since then, so I thought it worth writing about.
She’s living mostly in Zermatt in Switzerland, these days, and chose the Matterhorn as the backdrop for a series of reminiscences about her life and career over the past forty years (or so).
And so the DVD chronicles her life and career before, during and after ABBA, ending with a rather wonderful piece about her life now, in which she explains she no longer has an interest in music or performance, choosing to spend her days with friends, enjoying the wondrous Swiss landscape.
As a simple chronology, the DVD goes from reminiscence in front of the mountain, often with an amusing anecdote, to a (usually) high quality piece from the archive. Although many of them I’d seen before, there were also many others I’d never seen.
Frida – The DVD
Although she is sometimes identified as having been a “jazz singer” prior to ABBA, she makes it clear she wasn’t, that she sang “ever greens” and “schlagers” (big blustering Swedish pop songs). And for that reason it was fascinating to see footage from a Swedish television program where she sang classics like “Mad About The Boy” and “My Man”. Although her English language diction is sometimes a little wanting, she sings with a great deal of passion and beauty.
As she reminisces about her work, you clearly get the impression she’s largely happy with the career choices, and musical selections she made, at one point confessing that she never really had a career plan, that it all just happened.
She speaks with fondness about her days with ABBA, but makes it clear that it was also a long time ago, and that she feels that part of her life probably ended with the 30th anniversary of Waterloo a couple of years ago. Mind you, there’s also a lovely anecdote she tells of her step-daughter quite co-incidentally sitting by a pool in Spain next to Agnetha.
By the end of the video (three hours) you are given a sense of a really very beautiful person who has had to deal with some terrible personal tragedies but who has made it through happy and content. The tragedies include the death of her mother when she was two (her father was a German soldier in Norway during World War II and she was born with all of the associated baggage), and the recent deaths of her daughter (in a car accident) and her husband (from cancer). She also also speaks about being “rootless” (a bad translation) meaning she has had to continually find new roots in her life with a degree of wisdom, without any real hint of regret. Mind you, although she mentions some aspects of her private life – the divorces, the death of her husband, her close friends now – she doesn’t mention her early upbringing in any detail (the issue with her father), nor the death of her daughter.
But now, living in Switzerland and hanging out with a small group of friends – we are introduced to Urs and Heinz two obviously gay men – she seems genuinely happy with her life, which is a good thing to be at age 60.
This is really a video for fans only, tho I suspect a shortened version could be of some interest to a wider audience.
