There was a news story the other day about roadside flooding in Ultimo, Sydney. As the location is right next to my workplace, and very near the very fantastic bread shop where I get my lunch most days. I shot this photograph today of the big hole in the ground that still exists caused by the flooding.
“This could be really good or really lame”, I said to my friend Michaela the other week when I invited her to join me for the “Radio Play” at Giant Dwarf Theatre. I’d read about the event a few weeks ago on Eventbrite, and I heard Tom Ballard who wrote/directed the event on 702 ABC Sydney this morning.
“You know, we’re the only people old enough to actually remember radio plays”, I said to her as we met at the theatre. The crowd was very twenty-something, though we did spot a bloke who was actually older than us. “He’s here with his daughter”, Michaela noted.
The whole idea around tonight was to do a night of “modern radio theatre”, and I suspect it was a passion project, more than something which was seen as commercially viable. That said, there was a reasonably good crowd at the Giant Dwarf tonight.
As “modern radio theatre”, the concepts behind the sketches was also very modern: a sketch involving an orgy on the Lower North Shore, a piss-take on “Serial” (the new podcast from “This American Life”) which was really, really funny and, to be honest, a third sketch which I don’t actually remember a couple of hours later (obviously because we’re so old).
We sat right up the front and chose a seat which WE THOUGHT would avoid some degree of audience interaction. How wrong we were. “I hate audience interaction. Don’t go there”, Michaela told the host/writer/creator, Tom Ballard when he singled her out for some audience interaction. I’ve previously seen him doing standup and thought he was pretty average, pretty lame, to be honest. In contrast, we both agreed tonight was surprisingly good. In parts, it was probably a little over-written. But overall, it was a really great night of theatre, written and performed with passion. And it was great to see a bit of live radio theatre. Apparently, it will eventually turn up somewhere as a podcast.
Despite the lack of initial planning, Saturday unfolded into an unexpected “pub crawl” adventure.
Originally, my agenda included a lunchtime workshop at Surry Hills Library, organised by friends, followed by an event hosted by the 4A Art Gallery. Still recuperating from my operation, I find daytime naps essential for my recovery, typically lasting five minutes. This time, though, my brief rest in bed stretched into a couple of hours. On waking, I messaged my friends to convey my apologies, and they later shared the success of the workshop, bringing some relief.
Later in the afternoon, I hopped on a bus to Sydney University for the 4A Art Gallery event, known for showcasing contemporary art, primarily by Australians with an Asian heritage. Expressing my enthusiasm for the gallery, I shared with my friends that I’ve acquired a few art pieces from there.
Upon arrival, it became apparent that I had overlooked the details, as the sole art form exhibited was a video projection, and the main attraction was a lineup of youthful DJs. Despite being old enough to be parents to the majority present, we didn’t feel out of place. “This has a late ’90s/early 2000s vibe,” remarked one friend, as the event featured enough music samples from our youth to evoke a sense of nostalgia in the midst of contempoary beats.
After a couple of hours, we made our way to Newtown, securing window seats at both The Newtown and The Coopers pubs, enhancing the experience on the delightful afternoon. Engaged in conversation, we relished observing the lively crowd strolling along King Street.
As the evening progressed with a few beers and wines, fatigue set in once again, prompting my return to Surry Hills. And no, it wasn’t because I got legless!
The post-COVID lockdown era and numerous renovations brought a pleasant surprise—the renowned Turkish restaurant, Erciyes on Cleveland Street, had reopened. Ericyes is the location where many people have grabbed late night kebabs, Turkish sweets, or have enjoyed a meal. My particular favourite there, over the years, has been the Egg Penirli.
Though I still have a LONG WAY TO GO in my recovery, I feel like, slowly, life is returning to some kind of normality.
It’s Monday night and I’ve just finished having a meal with Kate and Tara, ending an incredibly busy thirty-six hour period. Thanks to its outdoor setting, Hingara is fast replacing BBQ King as our favourite place to have dinner in Chinatown. Although the service is inconsistent, the food is good and the relaxed outdoor setting really makes it a terrific place to eat. At BBQ King the food is also good, and the service is also inconsistent (bordering on dodgy), but you often come out of the restaurant with a feeling that your own skin has been dipped in fat, and is fast on its way to becoming crispy skin chicken or pork belly. After the busy-ness of the last thirty-six hours it was a terrific way to spend Monday night, sitting outside, eating good food, having a great conversation, enjoying a beer. With a nice sense of symmetry about it, I ended this incredibly busy period in the place where I started it, Chinatown.
Within seconds of arriving in Chinatown yesterday morning I was asked to take part in a survey about Chinese New Year and the reasons why I attend certain events. For my troubles I was presented with a scratch lottery ticket which, unfortunately, failed to delivery the million dollars I was expecting. I was a little disappointed with the markets this year, as the “junk stalls” seemed to outnumber the “food stalls”. Nonetheless I had a good time wandering around and snacking before meeting up with friends at the Lansdowne Hotel, opposite Victoria Park where Mardi Gras Fair Day was held.
Fair Day was, as it usually is, an interesting insight into the apparent diversity of the gay and lesbian communities of Sydney, even if everyone did look the same. As we wandered around we noticed stalls for everything from lawyers to nudists. Yes, the nudists stood out, so to speak this year, with small shells gathered from the beach protecting their modesty.
There were, however, no Raelians this year, and I failed to see the stall identifying the commencement of the clitocracy. With stalls by the Greens, Labor and the Democrats – one of my friends who votes Liberal was appalled the Libs were a no-show – I’d say Labor won the “Spunky Political Apparatchik Category”. I also noticed that when it comes to gay and lesbian dog ownership in Sydney, it’s either those small yappy things that I hate, or pit bulls that just scare me.
From there it was off to Tropfest, the annual short film festival held in Sydney’s domain. Unlike previous years where I’ve sat on damp grass half a mile away from the main action, I was lucky enough this year to be invited to the VIP/Media area, with dinner and drinks provided and good seating. Walking down the red-carpet with the likes of Hugo Weaving and David Wenham was weird, to say the least, especially when I received an SMS shortly afterwards from a mate declaring “I’m watching Tropfest in Albany, WA and I just saw you on the red carpet. Woo hoo.” In that “modern way”, I sent him back an MMS with a photograph of the people I was there with.
In the accompanying photograph I’m doing the “LA Smile”, a reference to the way people from LA smile in “Hollywood Pics”. You apparently achieve the smile by sticking two fingers between your teeth and then remove them just before the photograph is taken, leaving with you a “surprised open mouthed look”. A few of us tried it, and it works, but I decided for this photograph to leave my fingers in my mouth.
I really loved the winning film this year, a film from Queensland about a child’s imaginary friend. For similar reasons – well made and with a good sense of integrity – I also loved the films about road rage and the Cronulla race riots. Unlike the people I attended with, I also really loved the film about the crazy taxi driver, as it was just plane scarey. Another favourite was the film about the teenage boy who “pooped his pants”, but overcame his shame as a school-boy superhero. I also loved a film called “Bad Yoghurt” about an attractive woman’s physical response to eating yoghurt, for the value of its comic timing. It had me in stitches in that “teenage boy humour” kind of way that I guess most men never grow out of.
After a few hours sleep I got an early morning wake up call and needed to go into work early today, and so by mid-afternoon I was dead on my feet. So I headed home for a couple of hours shut-eye ahead of meeting up with Kate and Tara for our late afternoon/early evening meal at Hingara.
I’ve just arrived home from a pub crawl in Stockholm and, to be honest, I’m quite sober. If I had been a bit pissed, that might have helped explain why I’ve ended up in Alvsjo. In Sydney terms, I guess you might say Alvsjo is like Homebush. There’s not a lot here, aside from where the Stockholm International Fair was held and some associated hotel accommodation. By train it’s about 15 minutes from the centre of Stockholm. I’m staying in a budget motel in a very small room which I booked and paid for several months ago. As a room, it’s not so bad, though it is small, and the email confirmation did say “no facilities”. And yet I have a television, wireless internet, a clean modern room, and the bathroom isn’t too far away. Unfortunately, it cost me about $40 to get home in the cab tonight, which is something I didn’t really figure into the equation. But it was a nice enough trip and the cab driver was fine. You live and learn, I guess.
It’s been a reasonably good day also. After waking, showering and doing all of the usual holiday things, I actually did something work-related today. I caught up for lunch with a friend of a colleague in Sydney who also works in radio. We talked about radio around the world, the similarities, the differences and all of those nerdy kind of things. Still, what would you expect of two similarly aged blokes who have been interested in and working in radio since their teenage years?
Later, I checked into my accommodation in Alvsjo and then had a shower and a rest before heading back into town. Catching the train was an assortment of people including a fair number of people wearing the Europride bands around their wrists. It’s a funny sight to see so many people wearing them, and people responding so well. A mate of mine commented tonight that in London you’d be bashed for wearing one, whereas here they say, “Welcome to Stockholm”.
I went into town tonight with no firm intention in mind, except that I thought I should be home by midnight. A friend of a mate from Canberra arrives in Stockholm today and we’re gonna catch up mid-morning. So I had this idea I should be sensible, pop into town only briefly, and then come back home for a good night’s sleep.
As it was, I headed towards my favourite bar since arriving, Torget, for a quick white wine, with the intention of seeing Lady Miss Keir (the former lead singer of Dee Lite which had the hit, “Groove Is In The Heart”) play Europride. I never quite made it, though, running into my mate Paul, and his friends from London and Glasgow.
“Feel like joining us for a bite to eat”?, I was asked, and then if I had any preferences. “Swedish food”, I replied, adding to my thesis that Sweden doesn’t really do “ethnic cuisine” all that well. One of the blokes then added a story about going into a Chinese restaurant in his native Germany and being served what SOUNDED like a really interesting meal, but which turned out to be chicken schnitzel with sweet and sour sauce. So we ended up having a bit to eat at a place in Galma Stan. While the others had meat balls, I went for the salmon which was excellent.
And so we then went looking for a bit of Stockholm nightlife. One of the blokes had the idea of seeing what a guide book had described as Sweden’s best “schlager band”. Anyway, we went to the bar, had a few beers and a dance, and, after finally deciding we wouldn’t have gone to this bar anywhere else in the world, went looking for somewhere else. You just know you’re in the wrong bar when there’s a queue of about 50 blokes waiting to get in and 4 women, and the blokes have to wait outside while the women are given quick entry. And then of course, you know you’re in a dodgy place when you walk outside and there’s a woman on horseback.
The bottom line is we wandered around and around from bar to bar in an endless search, didn’t drink all that much, and then, at about 1.30 gave up, deciding it was all just a bad joke. Not long before this, one of the blokes made his position clear, “I don’t care if I don’t see Alcazar and BWO. I want to go to Lino tomorrow night and I don’t want to queue”. The advice was heeded all ’round.
And then of course, we noticed the bloody train station was closed, thus forcing us into cabs.
Still, we saw a pretty funny poodle at Central Station.
AND we had a great night, and it was loads of fun just to hang out with a really nice bunch of people.
Ever since I bought my internet radio, I’ve been listening to a lot of P3 Svea, a station which plays only new Swedish music. It’s all pop music, of course, but it covers a reasonably wide brief. Unlike Australian stations which tend to cover a fairly narrow brief – indie, pop etc – the brief includes pop, schlager, R&B, hip hop etc. If it’s Swedish contemporary music, you’ll hear it on P3 Svea, it seems. It’s helping me discover artists I wouldn’t otherwise have known about by following the Swedish charts, including two new favourites from today.
The first I heard was Oskar Linnros.
According to Swedish Wikipedia…
Hans Oskar “Kihlen” Linnros, född 15 augusti 1983 i Sundbyberg, Stockholms län, är en svensk rappare som tillsammans med Daniel Adams-Ray utgör hiphopduon Snook. Linnros har tidigare även varit med i gruppen Maskinen. Linnros har varit tillsammans med Veronica Maggio och producerade hennes andra fullängdare Och vinnaren är (2008). De möttes under samarbetet med Petter och remixen på låten ”Inga problem”.
…which translates that…
Hans Oscar “Kihlen” Linnros, born August 15, 1983 in Sundbyberg, Stockholm, is a Swedish rapper who with Daniel Adams-Ray is part of the hip-hop duo Snook. Linnros has previously also been in the group “Machine”. Linnros has worked with Veronica Maggio and produced her second CD “And the winner is” (2008). They met in collaboration with Petter and remixed the song “No problem”.
This is the song I heard today which totally captured my ears and my imagination… and it’s not hip hop or rap, as his background might suggest.
Youtube also has a rather cool, “road trip” version of the clip.
I love the Swedish countryside in this clip.
And then, on a related clip on Youtube I discovered Simon Norrsveden doing Stockholmssången. It’s what friends and I call, “Stockholm porn” because of its gratuitous use of imagery from Stockholm.
The song is about being a rock and roll bloke on the road and wanting to get home to see his best friend in Stockholm. Awww.
You know how I want to work in Sweden one day? Possibly I want to work at P3 Svea!!
The trip to Manly always evokes memories of the song “Reckless” by Australian Crawl, a song from my final year at high school. As an Australian of a particular age, how can you not catch the ferry without singing the line…. “as the Manly Ferry cuts its way to Circular Quay”…?
Oddly enough, I was listening to Swedish pop for most of the trip. It was mostly Magnus Carlsson, the former member of Barbados and Alcazar, in case you’re wondering.
But in one of those wonderful moments of synchronicity, as I was about to leave the ferry I found myself standing next to three Swedes chatting in Swedish.
I’m guessing it was a mother and her daughter and probably a friend. One of the daughters was chatting about her handbag, and how old it was.
I smiled (and actually got goose-bumps) as I understood most of the conversation.
I must have had a look of understanding on my face, as I saw from the corner of my eye the mother shake her head in my direction and say, simply, to the others that she thought I understood what they were saying. I looked at her and smiled in recognition.
I still don’t feel comfortable (confident enough) with my language skills to have responded, but it was good nonetheless to realize I wasn’t a complete idiot when it comes to my understanding of Swedish.
I was heading to Manly to catch up with Donna, Greg and Judy for a few drinks at the 16 Foot Skiff Club, a terrific venue that overlooks the water. We had a great afternoon chatting about this, that and the other.
And since arriving home tonight I haven’t done all that much. I’ve listened to some music. I’ve surfed the web. Not much else.
Overall, it was a pretty enjoyable Saturday. The major priority for tomorrow is Swedish homework.
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The old Harris Street tram tracks that supported the road finally rusted away.