Damo and I had a beer today at the Cronulla Club, the second time I’ve been there.
It’s a nice enough club, with a really fine outlook over the bowling green.
I’d been in Wollongong for the day for work. And rather than come all the way back into the city before heading back down, I jumped out of the car and met Damo at the club for a late afternoon bevvy.
We chatted mostly about travel, as he’s about to embark on his mega-tour of South East Asia, and I’m contemplating my own travel plans for early next year.
We also had a bite to eat at a nearby tapas placed called Stonefish, I think? You can eat well for very little money, let me assure you. You won’t go starving.
On arriving back in Sydney, I got home as quickly as I could and put on the heater.
Jamie and Anna preparing wild mushrooms on an island in the Stockholm Archipelago
It’s been years since I’ve watched a Jamie Oliver show, although I really do quite like him. I think it’s the channel change and the variable timeslots that hasn’t allowed me to keep up with his programs. But tonight was different: he was “doing Stockholm”.
The program starts with what my friends and I call “gratuitous Stockholm porn” i.e. lots of beautiful images of Stockholm. In the voice-over, he declares Swedish cuisine one of the under-rated cuisines of the world. He relates this to the cleanness of the environment, and the history of Swedes as people who have always been “hunters and gatherers” (gathering berries, mushrooms and so on in the wild).
I loved the way he prepared gravad lax (salted salmon) prepared from scratch, and how we went looking for (and explained how to prepare) wild mushrooms. He spoke about both things with such enthusiasm that made me want to just go out and do the same right now.
I also loved his experience in eating Surströmming, the highly stinky fermented herring dish. I’ve never tried it myself, but his experience made me also want to do that straight away.
Oh, and he made the most gorgeous looking Swedish-style bun with wild berries.
My initial attraction to “Mothers and Sons” was Tim Draxl. I’ve followed his career since the 90s, and fondly remember interviewing him as a nineteen or twenty year old singer “on the way up”. Since then, I’ve seen him perform a number of times, and I’ve seen him in a number of movies.
Mothers and Sons at Ensemble Theatre
It was also quite a while since I’ve seen a play at Sydney’s Ensemble Theatre. As I made my way to the theatre, I thought about my friend Colin who died last year. We were “regulars” at The Ensemble, having attended opening nights on many occasions. Since Colin’s move to Newcastle (when he became ill), and his passing, I haven’t been to The Ensemble nearly enough.
Colin would have enjoyed the play, and yet he would also have been frustrated by it. The plot concerns a modern day gay couple living in New York with a son. Out of the blue, the mother of one of the men’s former partner turns up. Twenty years after his death, she remains unreconciled with her son’s sexuality and his death from HIV/AIDS. Over the course of about 100 minutes, she achieves “reconciliation”. Frustratingly, for me, the play seemed to wrap things up a little too quickly, a little too easily.
That said, I still enjoyed the play. The characters were all still believable. And having enjoyed Anne Tenney play “Molly” on “A Country Practice” all those years ago, it was great to see her on stage for the very first time. I also smiled when I saw Grant Dodwell who played “Simon” on “A Country Practice” in the audience, and chatting at the bar earlier in the afternoon.
Mothers and Sons at Ensemble
Oh yeah, and The Ensemble has a terrific harbour view.
Since I first began researching this trip, a visit to Toledo (about 50 minutes by bus south of Madrid) has been high on my list of priorities. I’d seen photographs online which indicated a town of great beauty. On top of that, there was the story of a town that was once the capital city during the middle ages, which continues to undergo significant restoration work, and which has become a major tourist attraction.
Toledo, Spain
As we walked around the town yesterday, it appeared a visit to Toledo was compulsory for every school aged child in Spain. And, at the other end of the age-scale, it also appeared to be compulsory for every “View” or “University of the third age” (or Spanish equivalent) group within bus coach distance.
Totally understandable from our perspective. We really loved Toledo. Once you walk off the man drag, getting beyond the tourist buses and souvenir shops, there’s a really amazing town to explore. In particular, we really loved the Franciscan monastery for both it’s physical beauty and the peace and quiet it afforded. “Oh my goodness, is that a black Jesus”, I said to Sue, noting the extraordinary crucifix located in the main chapel.
Toledo, Spain
Toledo, Spain
On arriving back in Madrid, I had a shower and repacked my bag, ahead of last night’s flight. Sadly this is the end of my holiday.
Sue and I finished our time together with a wander around town and a bite to eat. I introduced her to the San Miguel Market, an awesome display of food and beverages.
Madrid was full of English footy fans, in town for a big match against Real Madrid. They seemed to be having a great time, singing, and drinking in the area around Plaza Mayor. While many of them enjoyed sampling the local cuisines at the bar where we ate, Sue and I both laughed out loud when we saw a plate of chips and eggs go by. The reference is the great play and movie, Shirley Valentine, where the English tourists insist on some “British food” in preference to the “Greek muck” on the island they’re visiting.
Sadly on this trip neither of us had a Shirley Valentine moment, with a view to retiring to a lovely Spanish island, but it’s been a terrific holiday.
I’ve always appreciated public art, but it’s only recently that I’ve truly begun to notice how much of it you can find in Sydney, if you look closely. A lower-leg amputation last year forced me to slow down, and consequently, I’ve developed a new appreciation for the city’s hidden treasures. This was amplified during a Sydney Architecture Walk on the weekend hosted by the Architecture Association.
While the tour acknowledged Sydney’s rich Indigenous history, it primarily focused on the last 250 years of European settlement. One highlight was learning about the Tank Stream, a once-visible waterway now hidden beneath the city. The public art piece commemorating it beautifully captures the stream’s original flow.
Public art that commemorates the Tank Stream
The tour also visited other captivating works, such as the iconic “birdcage” installation and a surreal piece featuring an elevated tree. These unexpected discoveries in laneways added a touch of magic to the walk.
Underwood Ark by Michael McIntyre
The intimate group size allowed for engaging conversations and a deeper understanding of the city’s architectural evolution. The GPO building was a prime example of how styles and materials changed over time.
Australia Square by Harry SeidlerThere was “controversy” surrounding the portrayal of “ordinary peope” on the building when they first appeared.
Architecturally, it was a revelation to discover the new buildings that have transformed Circular Quay since the pandemic. As a frequent light rail commuter who typically heads straight to my destination, I’ve missed the architectural developments in this iconic area. The tour was a fantastic opportunity to appreciate these contemporary structures.
The tour exceeded expectations, extending twenty-five minutes beyond its scheduled two hours. I wholeheartedly recommend the Architecture Association’s tours for anyone interested in exploring Sydney’s hidden depths.
Everything is going smoothly so far. I’d pre-purchased my ticket for the Arlanda Express, which is a dedicated high-speed rail link that whisks you from the airport into Stockholm Central Station in just 18 minutes. It hits speeds of up to 200 km/h, but the best part for me was the accessibility; it offers level boarding from the platform, which makes life much easier. The airport wheelchair assistance was also excellent—the wheelchair assistant took me all the way to the platform.
Aside from a minor detour—there are two Radisson hotels next to Central Station and I naturally picked the wrong one first—it’s been a breeze. It’s cold, certainly, but hardly a blizzard. I’m actually still wearing my shorts. Tomorrow is forecast to be sunny.
The $50 Doctor
I’m flying with Norse Atlantic Airways, a relatively new low-cost carrier that has stepped into the gap left by other budget long-haul airlines. They operate a modern fleet of Boeing 787 Dreamliners, offering a “no-frills” experience where you pay a low base fare and then add on everything else—from meals to seat selection—as extra. I bought the ticket well aware of these limitations, but the price for a return trip between Bangkok and Stockholm was too good to pass up.
While boarding my flight in Bangkok, I overheard a classic budget airline exchange. “Could I get a seat in the exit row?” a woman asked the flight attendant. “That will be $50,” came the reply. “Even if the seat is free? And I’m a doctor,” she added, hoping for a professional courtesy. “That’s still $50,” came the reply.
“It’s half the price of flying with Thai Airways,” a man remarked to me as we boarded. He’s Swedish but has a Thai wife; they split their retirement years between both countries. At 70, he’s been retired for a decade after running a printing business. He was returning to Sweden to check on his house on an island in the archipelago. He mentioned he also helps out his older neighbours by “emptying out their shit buckets”—apparently a common logistical challenge for island dwellers.
Conversations and Cultural Clues
One thing about having an amputation is that it’s often a natural conversation starter. He noticed my Australian passport and asked what happened. Realising we could have a laugh, I gave him my usual lines: I sometimes tell people it was a shark, or that I lost it fighting as a soldier in the Middle East.
I’d estimate about half the passengers were Swedish. In the middle of winter, they flock to Thailand to escape the gloom. You can always spot the returning Swedes at Bangkok Airport—they’re the ones with the deep, two-week tans. I remember once seeing a woman take off her sunglasses to reveal stark white circles where her tan hadn’t reached.
The In-flight Experience
Months ago, in a moment of sensible foresight, I’d pre-ordered a diabetic meal: grilled fish with steamed vegetables. It was actually quite good, even if the toasted sandwiches smelled tempting.
The in-flight menu is priced in US dollars. A ham and cheese toastie will set you back about $10.50, with small meals around $13.00. They also sell a lot of “travel tech” merchandise, like luggage trackers and Bluetooth connectors for headphones. Not that those were useful today—an email last night warned us the in-flight entertainment system was broken.
While the Swedish couple next to me were quite concerned, it didn’t bother me. I’d brought my Chromebook tablet, packed with about a dozen of my all-time favourite films for precisely this reason. I revisited some absolute classics like Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and Brokeback Mountain. There is something about the isolation of a long-haul flight that makes those heavy, emotional dramas hit even harder. I also have Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (fitting for a Stockholm arrival) ready to go.
I also started watching A Single Man, where Colin Firth plays an academic in the 1960s dealing with the hidden grief of losing his partner. I remember sobbing out loud the first time I saw it. Within fifteen minutes today, I started to tear up again, so I decided to save the rest for the flight home.
The crew were lovely—a truly international mix with a Swedish captain, an American customer service lead, and French-speaking cabin crew. I had one flight attendant speak to me in Swedish, and I was able to respond accordingly The plane felt modern and well-maintained, despite the tech glitch.
The flight from Bangkok to Stockholm takes roughly 12 hours and 40 minutes. We left the lunchtime heat of Thailand and touched down in mid-evening, sub-zero Stockholm.
Interestingly, the security officer seemed baffled as to why an Australian would be coming to Sweden at this time of year. #rollseyes
My Swedish friends also can’t understand why I’d visit now rather than in the height of summer. I understand their perspective, but for me, the snow and ice are the main draw. It’s been ten years since I last saw a proper winter. There are risks, of course—falling is a bigger concern now as an amputee—but the beauty of the landscape far outweighs the downsides.
My friends back home seem to be in a panic about the weather on my behalf, but I’m exactly where I want to be.
