As I made my way to the Giant Dwarf Theatre on Cleveland Street tonight, I walked through the park near Central Station. In the midst of people playing sport, running around, and those sitting, enjoying the late afternoon/evening sunshine there was a bloke playing bagpipes.
On closer inspection, he wasn’t what you might stereotypically think of as a regular bagpipe player: he was youngish and he had an obviously Asian heritage. On top of that, his repertoire included “Advance Australia Fair” and “We Are Australian”.
I wasn’t the only one who stopped to enjoy his work. There was another bloke video-ing his performance, which I presume will eventually end up on Youtube. If you see the video, keep an eye out for me, the bloke who pulled out his phone to snap a couple of shots also.
Bagpipes near Central
When I posted this photograph to Twitter earlier tonight, a colleague noted he was probably forced into the park by annoyed neighbours. “No doubt the neighbours complained about the practice at home – nothing worse than badly played bagpipes!”, she commented. Actually, this bloke was pretty good I thought. He was tuneful.
And when I say “working from home”, I’m not talking about the “working from home” I’ve been doing for the last fifteen months.
“Working from Lismore” means something quite different to “Working from Surry Hills”.
I’ve been here for almost three weeks now, having returned home when Nancy became very ill and subsequently died. For the next week, I was involved in organising a funeral/wake and in organising some of her “affairs”.
But since then, I’ve been working from either the front bedroom or the kitchen of Pat and Jack’s place.
And when it became obvious Sydney was going into “lockdown”, I saw reason to return to there, and so I’m continuing to stay here in Lismore.
It’s a much different routine here. For a start, I’m going to bed fairly early most nights, though not always sleeping. Pat and Jack are both in their 70s/80s now, and so they go to bed early, after watching Neighbours, Home & Away, and NCIS.
They also have a nap most afternoons, which is providing me with an awful temptation. As I continue to work from the kitchen table, the phrase “we’re just going to have a little nap for a while” makes me jealous that I can’t do the same.
I’ve also started to develop a daily routine of going to a nearby coffee shop.
“How long have you been here?”, I asked the woman behind the counter. “About two and a half years”, she told me. I mentioned that I remembered when the building behind their coffee shop as Lismore’s Baby Health Centre.
“I used to bring my children here, to the Baby Health Centre”, the woman running the Duck Pond Espresso coffee shop told me.
As I go about my daily routine, Pat and Jack get on with theirs. As Jack no longer drives, he and Pat go for a daily trip to the shops, visiting both Aldi and Woolworths. They also do a variety of odd jobs, and right jow Jack (in his 80s) is helping a similarly aged friend to contstruct some scaffolding.
While I was working at the kitchen table yesterday, Jack was going through a box of old papers and found this.
In case you’re thinking of stealing all my money, my signature has changed a fair bit. How about the old fashioned “J”?
“What was the Gould League?”, a couple of younger colleagues asked me over a video conference. Though I understand the Gould League is still around to a degree, it doesn’t appear to have the same notoriety as it did back in the 1970s.
I told them it was an environmental organisation focussed on school kids back in the 1970s. Vincent Serventy was the face of the organisation. “I hope you stuck to your commitments”, Jack said with a smile. “Yes, I hope I have, too”, I told him.
“I grew up across the road, and I used to come here with my brother-inlaw Jack on a Saturday morning”, I told the blokes standing outside “Two Mates Brewing”.
At the time Jack was working for Hensley Brothers, a local engineering firm which did a lot of work for the railways.
I don’t remember exactly what he did, but it was messy. And I remember the pink liquid he used to wash his hands with to remove the grease. Though I didn’t get so dirty mself, I vividly remember wanting to wash my hands with the pink liquid, also. It was the same colour of pink detergent they used in schools, along with sawdust, whenever someone vomited.
Though the railway line is still there, the tracks are mostly overgrown, as the trains don’t come through Lismore anymore.
But the shed is, albeit slightly changed.
“We used a lot of the outside timber on the inside, and the front was full of asbestos”, the two blokes told me. When I mentioned the asbestos to Jack (he’s now in his 80s) he was emphatic in his belief “there was no asbestos”.
Either way, the shed will soon take on a new life as a boutique brewery under the name “Two Mates Brewing. “We’ve still got a few things to work through with council, but we hope we can open in a few weeks time”, one of them told me.
Strictly speaking the new brewery is in Engine Street, on the other side of the railway track. But since the removal of the BGF (Banana Grower’s Federation) sheds (below), it’s really much of a muchness.
The house where I was born is no longer there, having been replaced many years ago by a “weigh station”.In 1970, to make way for the weigh-bridge in Kyogle Street, our house at 21 Kyogle Street was relocated to 195 Casino Street, South Lismore.
Video guide to where I grew up.One thing for sure : there seem to be a lot more pot-holes on the road (and generally throughout Lismore) than I remember when growing up here.
I spent a bit of time online today looking at what well-dressed Swedes are wearing these days. It’s not because I’m fashion-conscious. I mean, you’ve seen how I dress. No, it’s because I’m wanting to get a sense of what I should pack for my forthcoming trip to Sweden.
The last time I travelled it was the middle of summer, and so really, I didn’t need to take all that much with me. But this time around it will often be very cold. And I have the added complication of needing something “nice” to wear at the conference I’m attending. I’ve decided I can pack a suit, scrunch it up, and then have it dry-cleaned closer to the conference, so that’s sorted.
And Damien has loaned me a warm jacket that he took with him to China a couple of years ago and protected him in sub-zero temperatures, so that’s sorted.
But what about day-to-day? What combination do I need of easy-to-wear vs easy to wash and dry clothing vs clothing; clothing that will keep me warm; and clothing which will look good?
Walk-in-closet för dagen omgjord till gästgarderob – komplett med garderobiär. Courtesy QX.se
Although I know I could look at clothing stores like H&M, but really… what I need is an understanding of how people clothe themselves in real life with layers, scarves, shoes and other accessories.
So I went online to check out some of the out-and-about photo galleries from Swedish newspapers.
The first stop was The Local, the English language newspaper in Sweeden which features weekly photo galleries. The nightlife galleries on The Local, were all a bit lah-dee-dah for me. Everyone’s far too young and far too beautiful. And far too thin for me to be able to use for clothing inspiration.
So I checked out QX, the Swedish gay newspaper which also has online galleries. As I’m no longer a “clubbing” kinda guy, I found the best inspiration in photographs from a book launch. Thankfully, the gallery also included a photograph of the walk-in closet, where people disposed of their outdoor winter clothing. That was good, helping me to check out how thick/warm my jacket might be.
Drygt hundra gäster på festen och visste man inte annat skulle man kunna tro att det var lägenhetsvisning i våningen på Östermalm. Courtesy QX.se
I noticed that, even indoors, people wear thin pullovers and scarves over shirts. I couldn’t see what kind of underwear they have on, unfortunately, but I’m guessing that it’s warmish. So yeah, I definitely need to take a scarf, though I noticed the ones they had on were significantly thicker than the two I have.
I saw quite a few people wearing leather jackets in the photographs, so I’m guessing that’s a good way to get protection from the cold, the wind and rain. So yeah, I’m definitely taking that.
I also noticed most people were wearing several thin layers of clothing, which I assume is so you can adjust how much you need according to where you are, either indoors with central heating, or outdoors in the cold.
Swedes also, apparently, have a habit of taking their shoes off – covered in snow and mud – when they go into someone’s home. So I’m guessing I’ll need some thick, nice-looking socks, if I’m to walk around barefoot sometimes.
I’m slightly anxious about the clothing and remain undecided if I should purchase some warmer clothing here now, or wait until I get to Sweden and do a quick shop on my first day. More research is needed.
I popped into my local servo today to grab a drink, only to be met with the usual, somewhat dismal selection. The fridge was packed with soft drinks of dubious quality—bottles loaded with sugar, artificial stimulants, and “diet” options that are arguably just as terrible for you. Since being diagnosed with diabetes almost three years ago, I’ve made a point of avoiding soft drinks entirely.
It’s a lifestyle change that has paid off; my blood sugar levels are trending beautifully. In fact, I recently visited my endocrinologist and received the fantastic news that my levels have actually returned to the pre-diabetes range.
There has been exactly one exception to my “no soft drink” rule. During a hospital stay, my blood sugar dropped to an alarmingly low level. The nurses needed to get my glucose up immediately, and a soft drink—paired with a handful of jelly beans—was the quickest way to do it. Aside from that medical emergency, I’ve stuck strictly to water.
Today at the servo, the only flavoured option amidst the wall of cola and energy drinks was a single lime-infused sparkling mineral water. Everything else was either “plain flat” or “plain sparkling.” It’s a frustratingly limited choice.
Reflecting on that today made me realise how much I envy the variety you find in places like Sweden. Over there, you can walk into any local shop and find half a shelf dedicated to sparkling waters with just a subtle hint of natural flavour—no sugar, no nasties. Brands like Loka and Ramlösa dominate the scene, offering everything from classic Pear and Lemon to more adventurous blends like Strawberry & Pomegranate, Mango, or Elderflower & Lime. They even have seasonal editions like Winter Apple or Watermelon.
In contrast, our Australian “water” cabinet often feels like an afterthought to the sugary giants. While we are starting to see more options like Bubly or Mount Franklin Lightly Sparkling in flavours like Raspberry or Passionfruit, they are still dwarfed by the rows of soft drinks.
I would love to see a genuine Swedish-style variety here in Australia: a dedicated range of sparkling waters that offer a bit of interest without the sugar crash. It would be such a relief to be able to grab something refreshing and sophisticated while out and about, without having to navigate a sea of high-sugar stimulants just to find one lonely bottle of lime water.
The view from the upper “viewing” levels of New York’s Grand Central Station is remarkable. The scale of the place is enormous. The marble floors and walls are almost overwhelming in their beauty. Below you, you look down to see thousands of people going about their daily commute. And then you look around you, and you see lots of people who, just like you, are tourists taking photographs.
And then you realise you’re standing in the middle of an Apple store. “It’s a #$^!ing Apple Store”, Michaela said. Yes, indeed, one of the upper “viewing” levels of this most iconic of buildings has been made into a computer store. And amongst the many thousands of people who were there during peak hour, came a reply from a young bloke standing next to us, “Yeah, they’re #$%&in everywhere”.
I’m not sure if it was our use of the “f” word (Australians seem to swear far more than many other native English speakers) or if it’s just that when it comes to hearing the Australian accent in other parts of the world, we have developed what Michaela described as “hearing like dolphins”. Either way, it was a fun moment of shared recognition.
Visiting Grand Central was definitely one of the highlights of the day which, for me, started off with a morning walk around mid-town Manhattan.
As I walked around during the morning, I reflected on the difference between what I thought New York would be and my experiences so far. I think I was expecting somewhere “harder”, somewhere busier. Of course your experience as a tourist can never be that of someone who has grown up and lived all their lives here, but I’ve been thinking “I could really live here”.
As we enjoyed a late afternoon drink at the Wythe Hotel, we chatted a bit about this with a friend of Michaela’s who used to live in Sydney. He told us he probably took for granted some of the things about New York which we thought were amazing. This included the spectacular views you can enjoy from the rooftop bar of the hotel, looking back towards Manhattan. “I’ve never been to the Tenement Museum”, he told us, “because that was just the kind of thing I grew up with”.
I think The Tenement Museum has been, by the way, one of the highlights of visiting New York so far. The museum is a converted space on the Lower East Side, which tells the ongoing story of migration to New Work. The tour we undertook told the story of early German immigration in the 1840s-1870s, the evolution of the community as a Jewish neighbourhood, and the ongoing process of immigration in the area. “50% of all businesses in the area continue to be run by immigrations” our tour guide told us.
As well as being a fascinating building to “explore”, the tour we undertook (ninety minutes) was probably one of the best guided tours I’ve ever undertaken. Our guide was knowledgeable, friendly, and well-rehearsed. Importantly, there was plenty of time to sit down to really get to understand the people who had lived in the house and how they lived their daily lives, rather than simply being shuffled from room to room.
Manhattan sunset, viewed from Brooklyn
View from the Wythe Hotel, Brooklyn, looking towards Manhattan
View from the Wythe Hotel, Brooklyn, looking towards Manhattan
