After a rather healthy – and when I say healthy, I mean “big fat” – lunch today, I decided it was time to get healthy and go for a great big walk in a part of Stockholm I’ve never been before. After a few days of experiencing the urban environment of the city, I also figured it was time for a bit of a nature walk. But where?
“Universities always have great park-lands”, I thought to myself, “a place for students and academics to think great thoughts in wonderful settings”. And so I checked the map, and indeed Stockholm University is surrounded by some terrific bushland and beaches.
So I jumped on a #40 bus and headed over. I don’t know much about trees and plants, but I do know how to take arty-farty photographs.
So, without captions, here are some photographs from my great big urban bush walk.
Having done the big walk, I feel a lot less guilty about lunch, and I feel very chilled from having done a bit of exercise, and having experienced some great natural scenes.
For the past few days I’ve been playing a dual role: part tour guide, part host, with a family member visiting Darwin for the first time. Of course, I’m something of a tourist myself. I’m working here, I’ve been here a number of times before, but seeing the place through the eyes of someone who’s never visited changes things. I found myself sitting down ahead of her arrival, thinking carefully about what she might enjoy, what was realistic, and how best to pace it all over a few short days.
Her flight arrived at what can only be described as stupid o’clock in the morning, so I opted for an easy first day. Nothing too ambitious. I booked her onto one of those hop-on, hop-off buses, a gentle way to see a range of Darwin sights without committing too much energy straight away.
As it turned out, the weather hit her harder than expected. The heat, combined with the humidity, proved quite fatiguing. She decided to take things much more slowly than either of us had anticipated. I ran into her later that day while heading back from grabbing lunch on my way to work. She was sitting down, looking thoroughly exhausted and very red in the face. I commented on it — gently — and she admitted she was heading back to the hotel for a lie down. Sensible. That first Darwin lesson arrived swiftly.
For the following day, I’d organised a full-day tour to Litchfield National Park. I’ve been there a few times now, and it really is ideal for a one-day outing. It’s only a couple of hours from Darwin, unlike Kakadu, which many visitors feel compelled to see without realising just how far away it is. A single day in Kakadu usually means hours on a bus and very little time actually there. Litchfield, by contrast, is far more doable and rewarding in one hit.
The tour ran for about ten or eleven hours and included visits to several waterfalls and swimming holes. One of the falls was closed due to recent flooding and the presence of crocodiles — a reminder that nature very much sets the rules here — but there was still plenty to see. The termite mounds were, as always, impressive, and there was a welcome stop at a pub on the way back, which felt like a fitting end to a long Top End day.
On Saturday, my friend Cathy — born and raised in Darwin, though she lived away for many years — offered to take us on a bit of a local’s tour. Interestingly, the destination was somewhere she herself hadn’t visited in about 15 years, since taking her daughter there. We headed to Crocodyllus, just on the outskirts of the city. It turned out to be a thoroughly enjoyable experience. Crocodiles, of course, are the main attraction, but there are also a range of other animals, including pythons and various tropical species that feel entirely in keeping with the place.
The visit included a boat tour on the lake, which was thrown in and unexpectedly delightful. After that, we spent some time driving around the part of Darwin where Cathy grew up, eventually settling into a pub for the afternoon — always a good move. I think Cathy enjoyed the day as much as we did, seeing familiar places with fresh eyes.
Beyond the big outings, we fitted in plenty of smaller experiences: a visit to the Rapid Creek and Parap markets, meals in different spots around town, and several sunsets — including at Stokes Hill Wharf and the Ski Club. We took in the Museum and Art Gallery of the Northern Territory, and, somewhat unexpectedly, ended up at drag queen bingo one night.
View from Stokes Hill Wharf
I also made sure she saw a few of my favourite bars around Darwin — Charlie’s, Gin Bar, and the bars in the old cinema complex just around the corner from where we’re staying. They’re lovely places, made even better by the excellent pizzas.
Now it’s the final night. She’s catching the midnight flight back to New South Wales. Having her here for the past few days has been wonderful, and I think she’s enjoyed the experience immensely. By the end, she’d even started to come to terms with the weather — perhaps the biggest achievement of all.
Gosh, we had a beautiful sunset this afternoon. Not that I had all that much time to sit around enjoy it, as my feet were aching after an exhausting today. I was more interested in having something to eat and drink, and so, after taking a brief happy snap of the sunset from the window near my office, I headed off with a couple of hard-working colleagues for a beer at the nearby Agincourt Hotel.
Beautiful Sunset
As the clock ticks closer to midnight, and the end the indoor smoking in NSW, I noticed smokers at the pub were making the most of their “final indoor puff”. I also noticed this a couple of weeks ago at the Newtown Hotel, when it seemed like every man and his dog had suddenly become a smoker. For just a second I thought maybe I should have a cigarette myself, but then remembered I’d never had a cigarette in my life. Not even one.
It’s funny, though, since I often don’t mind being in smoky locations. For me, the irritation usually only occurs when I’m actually standing right next to a smoker, as opposed to general smokiness.
But tomorrow, they’ll be out on the streets, unless of course, the hotel has undertaken some kind of architectural remedy which will allow people to smoke on premises.
And that’s no more evident than on Oxford Street. In stark contrast to the tinted windows of the 70s, 80s, and 90s, Oxford Street gay bars now have big open windows, and everyone is “on display”. And just when you thought that new open-ness might have reflected improving awareness and acceptance of the homosexual subculture of Sydney, you suddenly realise it’s nothing of the sort: it’s actually just the new anti-smoking laws.
Despite the smoke, it was good to sit around and have a chat with my colleagues at the end of a long day during which we had all worked very hard, the day celebrating ABC’s seventy-fifth birthday. For me, one of the highlights was having to meet and briefly escort through the thick crowd, the esteemed ABC newsreader, James Dibble. He seemed like a very nice man, and as the crowd separated as we walked slowly through, I felt like I was with “ABC Royalty”.
ABC Open Day
Although I never talk about my work on this blog, I’ll say one other thing: with such a strong turnout, it made me feel very proud today to work for an organisation that’s obviously well-loved, and an important part of Australian society. In a work environment, that’s something money can’t buy, I guess.
An organisation clearly in stark contrast to some of the commercial media, if you believe half of what I’ve read in the new Gerald Stone book, “Who Killed Channel Nine?”. I picked it up on Thursday night and I’ve so far devoured about 100 pages. So far, it seems “the bad guy” is John Alexander who Stone contrasts dramatically with Kerry Packer. Packer is the flawed, yet human media magnate who lived and breathed Channel 9 and understood the absolute core of Australian television. Alexander is the bureaucratic businessman, slightly out of his depth, who succeeded in taking away the heart and soul of what was an organisation committed to good quality television. Anyway, I won’t describe it in any further detail until I’ve actually finished the book.
The other book I’m trying to make some progress with at the moment is the new Armistead Maupin book in the Tales Of The City series, Michael Tolliver Lives. But every time I sit down to read it, I fall asleep either on the couch or in bed. I probably need to set aside a weekend, maybe next weekend, to get through it.
Culturally, the other highlight of the week was seeing the latest play at Ensemble Theatre, Stella By Starlight, which, in my kinder moments, I would describe as an “average” play. Were I to be a little more scathing… no, I won’t go there.
It was interesting to observe, though, how theatre audiences differ once you “cross the bridge” (which I did TWICE on Friday, is that a record?). Whereas Eastern suburbs audiences would have sat stony-faced for most of the night, the audience at Milson’s Point lapped it up. I’m not making any judgement, just observing a slight difference.
Looking ahead to the week, I’m off to see Wil Anderson at the Opera House, I have a farewell dinner for a long-serving colleague, and have two parties to attend on Saturday (lunchtime and evening) which means I’m probably not going to have time to get into Armistead Maupin.
And thus ends my first proper post after a week or so of jibberish.
“My God, I hope we don’t end up over the bridge again”, I whispered in Colin’s ear as we caught the shuttle bus from the Opera House to The Argyle for the Helpmann Awards After-Show Party.
It was a reference to a Sydney Film Festival opening or closing (I can’t recall) night we attended several years ago.
On that particular occasion, our bus driver took the wrong turn on the way from the State Theatre to The Argyle and suddenly we found ourselves half way across the bridge.
There was a lot of laughter, and recognition. Who hasn’t found themselves criss-crossing Sydney Harbour Bridge by missing the right turn. It’s a bit like going to Canberra and ending up in a continuous circuit around Parliament House.
After show party for the Helpmann Awards at The Argyle
Thankfully this time the bus driver found his way correctly, and we were soon happily drinking champagne and eating canapes.
Colin and I had met at 5.30 at Opera Bar where I, in particular, enjoyed the ravioli. Gosh it tasted good. And it was just the right size for a quick bite before a night at the theatre.
“Why are you going so early?”, Colin told me a friend had asked him. “Nobody goes to the early show”, his friend had told him.
“We do”, we both agreed. Even though the awards presented are not major ones, we both agreed it was great fun to go to both “sittings” of the Helpmann Awards, which recognise live performance in Australia.
As such, there was everything from a “physical theatre” group, to straight opera, ballet, contemporary dance, and a rather loud and raucous version of “Women In Uniform” by Skyhooks, though fronted by Jimmy Barnes, and also featuring Diesel.
You will no doubt recognise my bald head as part of the Helpmann Awards telecast.
“It’s a bit of a theatrical fruit salad”, I commented to Colin later in the night.
To attend and to enjoy everything, you really need to have broad tastes in live performance. Luckily I do. And so for me there was some joy in everything I saw.
The only slight disappointment for me this year was that there wasn’t as much comedy as I’d remembered from previous awards. Even though hosts, Julia Zemiro and Jonathan Biggins were both absolutely terrific, I felt like I would have liked a few more laughs.
I remember with fondness The Helen Clarke Five from a couple of years ago, an inspired act featuring Biggins and Phillip Scott who based there act around the song “Take Five” by The Dave Clark Five, but who sang a really funny ditty about New Zealand.
I just love these awards, though, because they celebrate stuff which I personally find incredibly important in my life.
For me there’s nothing quite like a night in the theatre. Unless there’s something deeply troubling you, you can suspend belief for a moment. For a couple of hours you can let your mind wander and focus on just one thing. And it’s mostly always done with the best of intentions – to make people happy, to make people sad or reflective, or just to make people think. Great stuff.
Oh, and I love the champagne and canapes too!
The absolute highlight for me, though, was Liv Ulmann who presented an award. Cool. Nordic. Strong. I love women like that.
As we walked down the stairs I instructed Colin about how to greet her in Swedish – “Hej Liv, välkommen till Australien” – just in case we ran into her at the after party.
She wasn’t there. And it’s just as well, because I’ve since discovered that, despite her Swedish connections, she’s actually Norwegian by birth.
It was a normal enough Tuesday. Busy, of course, culminating in Swedish class.
It was our final Swedish class of this “season”, with a recommencement in two weeks. Thus, we had a few things to eat and drink, including some Swedish meatballs. Yummo!
As part of my homework for Swedish class this week, we were asked to write a brief article about a place we have visited from the perspective of a tourist. I wrote a brief article about Saltsjöbaden, a town on the Baltic near Stockholm.
So I wrote the following… which is translated below.
I mars besökte jag Stockholm, Saltsjöbaden, Norrköping, Helsingborg, Malmö, Gävle och Sandviken. Stockholm var underbart, men Saltsjöbaden var den största överraskningen. Saltsjöbaden är tjugo minuter med tåg från Stockholm. När du anländer, dominerar Grand Hotel landskapet. Byggnaden är stor och vit och mycket vacker. Från hotellet tittar du ut över skärgården. I mars var skärgården fortfarande isbelagd. När vintern blev vår, var det vackert att se växter under snön. Jag åt några vilda bär som komma upp då. Jag tillbringade mycket av min tid med att gå naturen. Tyvärr ramlade jag och skadade mig lite. Snön görde att ratt det inte gorde så ont. Saltsjöbaden är populär på sommaren också. På väggen på Grand Hotel kan man se ett fotografi av kungen och drottningen när de bodde där. Kungafamiljen hade också jaktmarker i närheten. Det var lugnt och vackert och en av de bästa delarna av min semester. Saltsjöbaden har nästan nio tusen invånare, men endast ett fåtal butiker och restauranger. Jag gjorde min shopping i den närbelägna fortorten, Fisksätra. Liksom många “end of the line” platser, det var många nya invandrare där.
And the translation is…
In March, I visited Stockholm, Saltsjöbaden, Norrköping, Helsingborg, Malmö, Gävle and Sandviken. Stockholm was wonderful, but Saltsjöbaden was the biggest surprise. Saltsjöbaden is 20 minutes by train from Stockholm. When you arrive, the Grand Hotel dominates the landscape. The building is big and white and very beautiful. From the hotel, you look out to the archipelago. In March, the archipelago was still covered with ice. As winter turned into spring, it was beautiful to see the plants under the snow. I ate some wild berries that were emerging. I spent much of my time walking in anture. Unfortunately, I fell and injured myself a little bit. Snow doesn’t hurt so much. Saltsjöbaden is popular in summer too. On the wall of the Grand Hotel, you can see a photograph of the king and queen when they stayed there. The royal family also had hunting grounds in the area. It was quiet and beautiful and one of the best parts of my vacation. Saltsjöbaden has nearly nine thousand inhabitants, but only a few shops and restaurants. I did my shopping in the nearby suburb, Fisksätra. Like many “end-of-the-line” places, there were many new immigrants there.
We were also asked to write a piece about an article we found in a gossip magazine. My copy of “Svensk Damtidning” was full of the royal wedding. It was hard to find anything else, though I did locate an article about a Swedish born actress, Helena Mattsson who had recently appeared in an episode of “Desperate Housewives”.
Artikeln handlar om svensk födda skådespelerskan, Helena Mattsson. Helena var nyligen i “Desperate Housewives”. Hon spelade “Irina”. Hon sa att hon var mycket glad att spela rollen, eftersom programmet är en favorit. I programmet spelar hon “Irina” som är en rysk “gold-digger”. Artikeln säger att hon har blont hår och enorma himmelsblå ögon. Hon är från Stockholm, men bor i Sherman Oaks i San Ferando Valley i Los Angeles. Hon bor med sin fästman, modefotografen “X”. Hon hade en roll i den svenska thrllern “Strandvaskaren” 2004, och sedan studerat film i London, Los Angeles och New York. Hon säger att hon var tvungen att ändra sin svenska accent för att få fler roller.
And the translation is…
The article deals with Swedish-born actress, Helena Mattsson. Helena was recently in “Desperate Housewives”. She played “Irina”. She said she was delighted to play the role as the program is a favorite. In the program, she played “Irina” who is a Russian “gold-digger”. The article says she has blond hair and huge sky-blue eyes. She is from Stockholm but lives in Sherman Oaks in San Ferando Valley in Los Angeles. She lives with her boyfriend/fiance, fashion photographer “X”. She had a role in the Swedish thriller “Strandvaskaren” in 2004, and then studied film in London, Los Angeles and New York. She says she had to change her Swedish accent to get more roles.
According to a colleague, one of the episodes she features in screened last night on Australian tv.
For both pieces, I received “bra” (which means good).
Progress in Swedish remains at a steady pace. I suspect it would increase dramatically if I lived there.
As we head towards this year’s Eurovision Song Contest, I’ve been keeping up to date with all of the different national finals.
Last weekend, Australia chose “Don’t Break Me” by Montaigne. “Fair enough”, I thought to myself, though I much preferred Casey Donovan’s song, which I thought was more anthemic, and had a stronger performance.
A couple of years ago, I absolutely loved, “Sounds Of Silence” by Dami Im, and thought she was “robbed” losing out to 1944, a wonderfully political and timely song about Ukraine independence, but was totally forgettable, musically.
So far, Sweden hasn’t chosen a finalist, being only half way through the heats, to be followed by their “Second Chance” final, and then the actual final in early March.
But thinking about Sweden’s choices for Eurovision, I’ve been reminded even their “second best songs” are usually pretty awesome as well.
These are some of my favourites which should have made it through.
Nanne Grönvall
Nanne represented Sweden at Eurovision as part of a group in the 1990s. She’s an awesome solo artist too. Her father-in-law is Benny Andersson from ABBA.
In 2005, she would have been an awesome Swedish entrant with this songPerforming live at Paradise in Stockholm
Although Melbourne may be the “home” of many small bars, they’re bloody hard to find. Late this afternoon I was in desperate need of a drink. And, unfamiliar with the landscape of Melbourne I went in search of a bar, any bar, in which to have one. That big pub on the corner, you know the one, the famous one with the painting upstairs, looked pretty full, so I didn’t go in there. Instead, I went on a search to find an ordinary corner pub. You know, like the ones we have in Sydney. They might be old and traditional with a bunch of old blokes in the corner. Or they might have been yuppified with an indoor/outdoor smoking area. But whatever form they take, you know they serve alcohol.
They’re few and far between in Melbourne, I’ve discovered this afternoon. I walked up and down the streets to almost no avail until I finally found one. In that regard, Melbourne is in stark contrast to Sydney where we have pubs in the CBD on almost every corner.
Melbourne Walkway
Part of the problem for me is that I visit Melbourne so infrequently that I’ve never really got a grip on the geography. Unlike Sydney, built on gullies and ridges where you can always look up or look down to find your point of direction, and where you can always use Centrepoint as a guide, Melbourne is more difficult to navigate due to its flatness.
The city is changing too. There’s lots more people living in the city. And everywhere you look there’s a new apartment block. Or there’s an architectural “statement” of some kind or another. In some ways it’s more of a “city” than Sydney due to the concentration of activity around the CBD. Sydney is more spread out. More like a group of cities than a city itself.
As I think I wrote the last time I visited Melbourne, the city has a great charm that I hope it doesn’t lose as it grows. It would be a shame if it lost some of its “Melbourne-ness”, as it grows larger and larger. Let Melbourne be Melbourne!
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Beautiful photos! I’m glad you had such a nice walk.
The combination of light and shade – especially the light later at night – and the various colours make it difficult to take a bad photograph right now.
If you return to the area sometime you can go another kilometer north and visit the ‘Bergianska trädgården’. http://bergianska.se which is a really nice place.
Beautiful photos! I’m glad you had such a nice walk.
The combination of light and shade – especially the light later at night – and the various colours make it difficult to take a bad photograph right now.
If you return to the area sometime you can go another kilometer north and visit the ‘Bergianska trädgården’. http://bergianska.se which is a really nice place.
You’re the second person to suggest this. Rightio, I’m gonna do it.