As soon as my friend recommended dinner at Onde, my mouth started watering for one of their signature dishes, calves liver. While many would hate the thought of such a dish, I really love the taste and texture. I grew up eating a lot of offal: steak and kidney was a stable when I was growing up, as were liver, brains and all manner of things.
I think a lot of it had to do with my mum and dad having grown up in country towns during the depression, and other economically difficult times. Dad spent his early years on a farm, and mum’s family were also pretty closely connected to the land, and so for them it was probably fairly normal to eat offal, whereas some of the town dwellers I went to school with probably thought it was all a bit gross.
One of my biggest complaints about modern life is that the world is full of fussy eaters. I think it’s a real shame that many parents don’t “force” their children to eat everything that’s put before them, and to try new foods. I see it in my extended family, where the children will tell their parents they don’t like a particular food, and the parents follow their wishes.
Growing up and being “forced” to eat everything on the plane was never an issue for me. I was never “forced”: I love eating. Around Christmas time, when the extended family arrived, I was the one who could be relied upon to finish off the food on other people’s plates. “Garbage guts” was what mum called me. It’s precisely the reason I am a fairly adventurous eater these days (a good thing) and why the thought of calves livers at Onde was so appealing. That, and the fact the people who run Onde are so lovely. It’s such a great place. Highly recommended.
“I’m not sure how I feel about gay weddings”, a friend told me yesterday. He and his male partner have been together for forty years. My friend is now retired, and his partner is not far off it, and they come from a generation where expectations about marriage for same sex couples were not on the radar. Hey, back in “their day” male gay sex could get you some time in gaol, and was mostly never talked about. Times have changed, but many people remember the past. He told me this late yesterday, after telling him I’d been to my first LEGAL gay wedding held at a nearby registry office.
We all laughed when my friends (one in his sixties, one in his forties) had to declare they were over 18 years old, as they’ve been together for close to 18 years, and they’re no spring chickens. They also had to declare they weren’t related, which also gave us a smile, as one of them is Anglo-Australian, and the other was born in Thailand.
They were able to choose their titles – they went with groom and groom – but the only thing they changed straightaway, was from ring fingers on their left hands to ring fingers on their right hands, as they were the ones that fitted!!
It was short and sweet in lots of ways, held in the registry office.
The older friend I mentioned earlier told me he was also going to a wedding this weekend of a couple who had been together for a long time. “They’re doing the whole she-bang”, he told me. An interesting contrast, I thought to myself, between couples who had been together for a long time, with one couple choosing something short, sweet, and mostly about legalities, whereas the other was about a big public celebration. I make no judgements either way, just noting that in this day and age, there are lots of ways to get married, that don’t necessarily involve white dresses and churches.
My electricity bill tells me I probably used my heater far too much this year. Though we enjoy fairly mild winters in Sydney, there’s usually two or three weeks where it gets quite chilly, and there’s fairly regular rain. I’m trying to do my bit for the environment by reducing my carbon imprint by wearing warmer clothes rather than sitting around the house in summer clothing and relying on the heater. This year, the electricity bill is a fair deal higher than last year, largely reflecting the fact I’ve been working from home since March, and my heater use.
The view from my apartment window in August.The view from my apartment window only a few minutes ago.
Here in Surry Hils, the local economy remains depressed due to the pandemic. I think there’s also the factor of a changing economy, as we transition (outside of the pandemic) from regular shops to online purchases and centralisation.
It’s been a cold and wet weekend in Sydney. For the first time in a couple of weeks I’m wearing a pullover. A perfect weekend for indoor activities.
Catching up with friends yesterday at a nearby pub.
I’ve also caught up for lunch with some former and current colleagues.
One of the really great things of the last week has been catching up with workmates for the AWEI (Australian Workplace Equality Index) Awards for LGBTQI inclusion. We hadn’t seen each other for several months, and so it was great to catch-up, and to get dressed up. And have a drink or three afterwards.
And I’ve been to the movies a couple of times in the last week or so.
“Aren’t you worried about catching COVID-19?”, a number of people have asked, when I’ve mentined going to the cinema. “No, I’m often the only person in the room”, I’ve explained.
Though many people like going to the movies in the evenings, I’m more of a fan of screenings in the morning. Over the last year, as I’ve taken Wednesdays as rec leave, I’ve often gone to screenings at about 10am. Even on the weekends, it’s my preferred time.
Maybe it’s a throw back to Saturday mornings “at the pictures” at the Start Court Arcade in Lismore. At the risk of sounding like someone who is much older, I remember when you could go to a Saturday screening for as little as 20c (later 50c, and even later $1.20).
More likely, I really like the concentration headspace you have in the mornings, whereas in the afternoons or in the evenings, I can sometimes nod off. In the mornings, my brain (at least) is more engaged.
And that was certainly the case last Saturday when I went to see “I Am Greta”, the story of Greta Thunberg, the young woman from Sweden famous for her climate strikes. Amongst friends and family, I’ve been surpised to discover she’s been a polarising figure. Even though I have friends and family who are climate skeptics, it’s not only those who are “Greta Skeptics”.
“I know I shouldn’t say this, but she shits me”, a friend who feels passionately in favour of doing more about climate change told me. “There’s so many other young people doing their bit”, she told me when we caught up in the last couple of weeks. “In the film she acknowledges that”, I told her, adding there’s a moment when Greta reflects that she’s probably invited to speak “so people can be seen to be doing the right thing” (or words to that effect).
The film is a really interesting one. It starts with her first climate strike outside the Swedish parliament, and ends with her speech to the United Nations. The early footage of her in Sweden is fascinating to watch. Along the way, you see her experiences of going from that small-scale experience to achieving a much greater global impact.
Despite this global recognition, you also see that she’s a teenage girl who loves her dogs, and who is influenced by her family. You never get the sense she’s a mouthpiece for her parents. In fact, there are many moments where you see her parents seeking to moderate her, as other parents might. “Greta, you have to eat”, her father says to her at one point. By the way, he’s a rather famous Swedish actor, and her mother is a famous Swedish opera singer (who also represented Sweden at Eurovison). In the film, however, they’re just mum and dad.
The other film I’ve seen in the last couple of weeks was “Corpus Christi”. It’s a Polish film based on the true story of a young man with criminal convictions who wants to become a Catholic priest. Though his background would prevent him from doing that, circumstances allow it to occur. In a small community, he becomes an important figure allowing the community to begin the process of healing, following the tragic death of a number of people in a car crash.
“This is one of the best films I’ve seen in the last couple of years”, I said to my friend as we left the movie. She agreed heartily. The combination of the story, the acting, the emotion and the humour made it it highly enjoyable. “I wanted to go to the bathroom half way through”, I joked, “but I just couldn’t leave the cinema”. There’s one moment of extreme violence where we both had to look away, but aside from that, we both loved this film. I’d highly recommend it.
“Are you having beer or wine?, the man supervising the bar queue for tonight’s exihibition at UNSW Art & Design asked me. When I told him wine, he said, “come with me”, escorting me to the front of the lengthy queue. Tonight, it seems almost everyone was drinking beer, and so if you wanted wine, there was an express queue.
On the issue of alcohol, both Kate and I (having arrived separately), asked for the wrist bands which confirmed our 18+ ID had been checked. Though we both thought we were being fun and clever, I’m sure those looking after the bar thought we were a bunch of geriatric wankers.
And maybe we were. As a further “sign” of our age, Kate mentioned to a younger woman we chatted with that she had attended “Alexander Mackie College”, a fore-runner to what’s now known as UNSW Art & Design, but which I still refer to as COFA, the “Centre Of Fine Arts”.
I always really like going to student exhibitions. It’s always interesting to see the perspective of the next generation of artists coming through. Some will go on to become important artists, others will pursue an arts career part-time, some will become art teachers, others will never practice art again. Whatever happens with these young people in the future, it’s always fascinating to go to these exhibitions, and to see a snapshot of their current creativity.
Though traditionally COFA was about “fine arts”, UNSW Art & Design now covers off on graphic design. In the graphic design area, the most interesting thing we saw was a student who had re-designed the instructions on tablet bottles, providing a visual representation of when and how to take tablets.
There was also a lovely book which I briefly read called “Nans Of Canberra” which featured images and stories.I really liked a work which talked about kinship including light and dark skin as an issue for many Indigenous people.
And I really liked a work which talked about the impact of third-world child exploitation on the creation of so many of the clothes we wear.
I can’t say there was a “wow” moment for me in the work exhibited tonight, but it was still terrific to attend, and lovely to see Kate. As has become the tradition for attending events at UNSW and the National Art School, we ended the night sharing a bottle of wine and pizza at a nearby restaurant.
As a young man in Germany the world of Wojtek Czyz was abruptly upended on 11 September 2001. Playing his last amateur match before taking up a professional football (soccer) contract, he sustained a severe injury.
“I got a hit from a goalkeeper while playing football, and got an injury which caused what is called compartment syndrome. Unfortunately, the surgery and all the support from the hospital were done too late. And this is why my lower leg became necrotic, which means everything was dead.”
Because the damage extended through the joint, the procedure resulted in an above-knee amputation. At just twenty-one years old, standing on the precipice of a professional contract, Wojtek faced a profound psychological crisis.
The turning point came during rehabilitation three weeks post-amputation, when he met Roberto Simonazzi, a German sports therapist, former elite Paralympic athlete, and fellow above-knee amputee. Finding someone who truly shared his lived experience proved to be transformative. Wojtek notes the vital impact of this encounter:
“That was for me a game changer, that this guy knew exactly what he needed to tell me to open my eyes and take away these black demons out of my head, that my life was over, and simply open new doors for me. And the new door was Paralympic sport. Basically, six months after my amputation, I was already the German champion in the 100 metres and long jump.”
This pivotal mentorship instilled a philosophy that Wojtek carries forward today: that recovery is “all about perspective and all about belief.”
Recognising how crucial that initial guidance was, he shared in an interview for The Limb Shift podcast, he has dedicated a significant portion of his life to visiting hospitals, talking to fresh amputees, and lifting the heavy shroud of insecurity surrounding body image, mobility, and future prospects.
A Legendary Career in Paralympic Sport
From those astonishing beginnings just six months post-amputation, Wojtek rapidly ascended to the absolute pinnacle of international disabled athletics. Over his stellar competitive career representing Germany, he became one of the most recognisable and dominant figures in Paralympic track and field. He captured multiple Paralympic gold medals—shining brightly at the Athens 2004, Beijing 2008, and London 2012 Games—while setting world records in the 100-metre sprint, 200-metre sprint, and the long jump.
Two years after losing his leg, Wojtek also pursued a degree in sports science, bridging his personal journey with rigorous biomechanical research. He explains:
“I did a lot of biomechanical research in regard to the movement of amputees, and especially in sprint or long jump. We did a lot of analysis, and even developed a blade together. So there was a lot of passion in it because I was part of the studies.”
Global Impact
Driven by a desire to share what he described as the privileged level of medical and prosthetic support he received in Germany with populations lacking similar resources, Wojtek and his wife, Elena Brambilla—a former professional high jumper—embarked on an extraordinary global humanitarian mission. They sold their possessions, built a catamaran equipped with a technical workshop, and sailed around the world to deliver custom-crafted mobility solutions for people with limb loss and limb difference.
Describing the impact of this venture, Wojtek shares:
“The best way to help is to be there, and to have the parts there with you… We gifted ninety prosthetics, mostly paid for by ourselves.”
Visiting nations across the globe allowed them to confront social stigmas head-on. Along the way, Wojtek set free-diving world records to challenge the perception that amputees safely enter the water.
Remembering the profound emotional weight of these interactions around the world, he recalls:
“Our first project was in Morocco, and the people there travelled around six hours on public transport from somewhere up in the mountains. I remember one kid got a prosthetic, and for the first time in his life, stood up on two legs. Everyone was crying.”
Pic supplied by Wotjek
New Horizons in Aotearoa / New Zealand
Stranded in New Zealand by the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, Wojtek and his family ultimately put down roots in Eureka close to Cambridge. Alongside managing an export business for high-grade Mānuka honey tailored for high-performance athletes—developed in partnership with his wife, who studied herbal medicine and biotechnology—Wojtek turned his energy toward revitalising local parasport activation.
After settling in New Zealand, Wojtek picked up badminton from scratch in 2021. He rapidly built an impressive international resume on the Para Badminton World Circuit, winning gold in Men’s Doubles at the 2023 Oceania Championships and climbing to world number 12 in singles. This journey culminated in May 2024, when he became New Zealand’s first-ever Paralympic badminton representative at the Paris Games.
Driven by a desire for community activation rather than personal glory, Wojtek used the sport to raise the profile of parasports across Aotearoa. By stepping onto the court, he successfully established new competitive pathways and inspired a fresh generation of athletes to find their way into the game.
Pic supplied by Wotjek
Motivational Speaking and Future Initiatives
Looking back on a quarter-century living as an amputee, and summing up his core philosophy, which he hopes may be useful to other people with limb loss and limb difference, he says:
“You will face some situations where you think, ‘Oh, come on, why me?’ For me, the most important thing besides never give up is simply to be curious. You have to get the ability to laugh at yourself. So many funny things are happening; you can get frustrated, or you can laugh about it. And I am the one who’s laughing about it.”
Today, Wojtek channels his life into high-impact keynote and motivational speaking engagements worldwide, inspiring corporate teams, athletes, and individuals to reframe adversity through resilience, humour, and a shift in perspective. To connect with his ongoing projects, keynote bookings, and community initiatives, you can visit his official website at Project Wojtek: https://www.wojtek2024.co.nz/
Furthermore, continuing his life’s mission of supporting athletes, he is involved with innovative ventures like his startup platform, Match-me.org (http://match-me.org/), designed to guide professional athletes seamlessly through career transitions and dual-career development.
Pic supplied by Wotjek
This article is based on an interview with Wotjek which will be featured in The Limb Shift podcast, to be released in October 2026, and which is available on Apple, Spotify, YouTube and via https://thelimbshift.com/
As I sat and watched the singer-songwriter night at the pub last night, I felt slightly melancholic. Watching the university crowd coming in and out, watching them and their friends play, led to some middle-aged self-reflection. “I’m old enough to be their father, or even their grandfather”, I thought to myself. Though it only seems like yesterday when I was doing something similar to them, it’s over thirty years since I finished university, and next year will be forty years since I started high school.
And then I had an drunk men, maybe only a few years younger than me, come up and sit down next to me. After a few minutes he said something to me. “What”, I said. “Are you a faggot?”, he said, this time a little louder and more clearly. “I’m not a faggot, I’m gay”, I told him firmly. Minutes later he was standing in front of one of the singers, having a similar conversation. In the course of our brief exchange, he told me was from Melbourne, had a wife and kids, and was working in Hobart on a construction project. “Me thinks he doth protesteth too much”, I though to myself.
The difference between the innocent young kids listening earnestly to their singer-songwriter friends, and the obvious middle-aged bloke could not have been more extreme. Though the kids were thirty years younger, I felt I had a lot more in common with them than the similarly aged bloke.
But hey, it was a Tuesday night in Hobart, and I was looking for something to do.
Music has always been an important part of my life. And though I love going out and listening to live music, or going out for a dance, I feel like I don’t do it nearly enough. Though most of them also love music, few of my friends enjoy, like I do, going out to a restaurant or bar where music is playing. Nonetheless, I feel it’s something I’d like to do more of, once I end this short work assignment in Hobart.
Aside from Sunday’s big trip to Bruny Island, it’s been work, work, work.
As much as I’d planned a visit to Mona on Saturday, I ended up spending a few hours on Saturday at Hobart Hospital. About a decade ago I developed a cyst on my back which turned problematic, requiring surgery. Last year, unfortunately that lump re-appeared, though so far it hasn’t caused me grief.
And then about two weeks ago, one began to develop on my face. On the verge of turning toxic, I visited the hospital where it was popped. Ahead of the consultation, I sent my niece (a nurse) a photograph of the offending object, hoping she would assure me it was nothing to worry about. Instead she replied with “Ewwww gross, that looks really nasty”. The honesty of family members!!
I wouldn’t have normally gone to the hospital, since it’s something a doctor could easily do in their surgery. But all of the medical centres I tried in the centre of town were closed, so off to the hospital I went. There were clearly more deserving patients than me, and so the wait as a fairly lengthy one, and in the end being cared for by a hunky doctor made it worthwhile. :):)
Work took me to Hobart, and now it’s brought me back to Sydney. I’m also hoping to catch up on the weekend with some friends visiting from the US. Next week it will take me back to Hobart again.
Damien and I were watching Channel 10 News with Sandra Sully when news broke of the 9/11 attacks. That was our routine at the time: watch the news, and then head off to bed. I still remember the slightly frazzled look on Sandra’s face as she looked down and read from a piece of paper – obviously too soon to add to the auto-cue – about the attacks.
We stayed watching the coverage for several hours. We spoke to friends on the phone. We drank a bottle of wine. We worried for a while this was going to happen all around the world: New York, Washington, London, Paris, and eventually Sydney. The thought of an attack on Sydney went through our minds for quite some time, especially as we lived so close to the CBD. Weeks later, there were the anthrax scares,
I woke early the next morning, and when I went to work, I had to confront – as a broadcaster – the issue of what to do on the radio on the radio that day. It had been a big week already with the collapse of Ansett Airlines. And now, there a major world story with implications for all. About half of each hour that I was on the radio was dedicated to national news coverage. As I recall, for the remainder of each hour we continued to talk about what had occurred, interviewing people we knew were there – such as a delegation of NSW Farmers – and giving listeners the opportunity to express their feelings.
And on the following day, we had planned an outside broadcast from the Illawarra Folk Festival. As it turned out, it was probably a good thing. The half-hour news specials continued, and in between, we featured a bunch of folk musicians who sang about peace. It was the right combination, I think, in hindsight.
In the UK, it’s the July 2007 events that remain in their minds. In Australia (and Indonesia), it’s the Bali Bombings that remains in our minds.
As I sit and watch tonight’s commemoration I’m reminded of that night ten years ago and think about how much the world has changed. The internet has changed the world with an increasing level of internationalism, which is a good thing. But we’ve also seen a dramatic increase in racism and nationalism, evident in the recent killings in Norway. We’ve also seen some polarisation between religious groups, but also increasing levels of inter-faith activity.
In the same way that Nazism and Communism changed the world, and yet we “recovered”, let’s hope the same thing happens again.
The video of Sandra Sully crossing to the attacks is on Youtube, though unfortunately the sound is really crap.
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We were not allowed to leave the table until we had finished our meal. I too grew up eating offal, brains etc but as soon as I could, I stopped eating them and never touched them since. Steak and kidney pie is nice, as long as the kidney is removed from it.
We were not allowed to leave the table until we had finished our meal. I too grew up eating offal, brains etc but as soon as I could, I stopped eating them and never touched them since. Steak and kidney pie is nice, as long as the kidney is removed from it.