For the last few days I’ve been needing an “excuse” to try out my new camera. For the first couple of days the sky has been a little grey. But even then, as the weather improved, and with good intentions, I was waylaid on another by colleagues to have a drink at a funky inner city bar. But today I was determined, and so sharing with you a couple of photographs taken at what’s probably one of the most photographed spots in the world: Bennelong Point.
Tourist tip: the views are great from down on the land, but if you want a really terrific view of the Opera House and Harbour Bridge, take the stairs up to the Botanic Garden, enjoy the view, and have a picnic while you’re there.
Sydney Harbour Bridge, as viewed from Opera Bar
Sydney Harbour Bridge, as viewed from Opera Bar
A beautiful day for a walk around the harbour, and pretty happy with the new camera: Nikon AW1.
“Surry Hills must be the only place outside the former Soviet Union where people queue for bread.”
Bourke Street Bakery in 2007
In the time since, the very popular Bourke Street Bakery has expanded, with a number of other venues across Sydney.
Though it’s only a short walk from where I live, I haven’t visited the bakery for quite some time. The ugliness and inconvenience of the light rail construction on Devonshire Street has kept me away, and I’ve headed further afield for my weekend bread and coffee requirements.
Light rail construction continues in Surry Hills, and in the middle of the night I was, once again, woken to the sounds of jackhammers (or whatever), and this morning, there were still lots of workers around.
Construction on Devonshire Street, Surry Hills.
But it can’t be too far from completion in my area, as they’ve been testing the rail lines for the last couple of weeks.
Testing the new light rail in Surry Hills
This morning, I woke early and headed back to Bourke Street Bakery for a coffee and sausage roll, neither of which disappointed. It was nice to go back and visit a place I used to often frequent.
I was especially excited to see this sign on the window of the Bourke Street Bakery, indicating a push for a community garden, and the re-establishment of Wimbo Park.Wimbo Park Mural
Wimbo Park once existed where the light rail currently does.
As well as being a theatre week, it’s also been a week for eating out. Oddly enough, it’s been Crown Street all the way this week, revisiting two of my favourite restaurants, as well as enjoying a new one.
RQ: Paul and I met with Colin (and two of his friends) for dinner at RQ, still one of my favourite restaurants. The entrees included, the usual, but still great tasting Betel Leaf Salad with Duck, while the mains included the Roast duck stir fry with Chilli Jam and the Pork Braised in Coconut Juice. Both the meal and the conversation were sublime.
Pazzo: Damien and I enjoyed revisiting one of our “old haunts, even if there was a large table of people I work closely with sitting at the next table. In hindsight, we probably ordered a little “too rich”. Like the duck breast stuffed with liver and mushrooms that Damien ordered for a main, we also found ourselves a little stuffed. Mind you, we decided we could definitely find space for the deserts which included a terrific trifle which was “to die for”. And we couldn’t believe our luck in that the desert wine which Damien brought along, a Martinborough Vineyards late harvest Riesling 2004, matched the desert so incredibly well.
As an aside, before dinner, we’d met at Dome, the upstairs bar at the Crown Hotel, located on the corner of Crown & Cleveland Streets, which had some good wine and an exotic kind of ambience to the place.
Bentley Bar: Damien and I also caught up for some wine and tapas at this reasonably new Crown Street venue. It opened up twelve months ago (or thereabouts) and has settled in very well. Amongst the most enjoyable tapas meals we had were the air-dried beef (my favourite) and the gazpacho. Damo, if you’re reading this, I’ll leave it to you to describe the wine, but suffice it to say, the wine was noice too.
So all in a all, a great week of great food and conversation, as well as theatre. I guess now, in the words of Edna Crabapple from “The Simpsons”, it’s back to my regular habit of “soup for one, salad for one, and wine for three”.
“We hope you’re fit”, an older couple (maybe in their late 60s) said to us as we walked towards the Yarrangobilly Caves. “A bit steep, is it?”, I replied, prompting a further response from the woman that they were “just taking a little rest”.
The caves are about eighty kilometres from Tumut, in the Kosciuszko National Park. As we headed out this morning, we didn’t really pay much attention to how long it took to get there, as we stopped along the way to take in the sites. There are parts where you can drive at a normal pace, but also parts where you need to slow down significantly, due to the narrow winding road.
Our first stop was roughly halfway, at the small town of Talbingo. Famously, Talbingo is home to a power station, parts of the Snowy Mountains Hydro-Electric Scheme, and is located on the shores of Lake Blowering. The town has a police station, a school, a caravan park, and a small shopping centre.
As you enter the “main store”, there are lots of signs outside declaring they sold “fat bait” for fishing. “Even if the power station closed down, I think there would still need to be a place for tourists to camp and shop”, I said to Sue, though I can’t be sure.
As I stopped to pay, I noticed there was a sign on the counter that one of the co-owners of the store was running as an Independent in the forthcoming local council elections. Maybe the town’s future is something the big bloke with the bushranger beard behind the counter, making coffee, will be running on?
It was great to see the author, Miles Franklin (born here) had the main street of Talbingo named after her.
After this brief stop, we headed off again, taking in the extraordinary sites of the landscape.
As we drove, we noticed the line-markings on the road transitioned from white to a golden yellow, which presumably is easier to see when there is snow on the road.
The road down into the Yarrangobilly Caves is narrow and winding. When the woman at the National Parks & Wildlife Service office told us there was only one way in and only one way out we were relieved. There are moments when you’re driving along, almost hanging off the road of the mountain, and the idea of having another car coming around the corner would have been too much to consider.
Only about 500 metres from the parks office is the entrance to the South Glory Hole (yes, really) Cave. Due to COVID, this was the only cave open to the public. Additionally, it’s not school holidays right now, and there weren’t all that many people in the park anyway.
We were the only ones walking through the caves, so it was wonderful to be able to experience this without the presence of others. “There are no sounds of screaming kids”, Sue noted.
The only sounds you hear are the sounds of dripping water.
You step in puddles of water from time to time. I held tightly to the guard rail, as I slowly walked through the cave. We stopped to read the signs, take photographs, and chat about our experiences.
There were a few moments when I felt slightly claustrophobic. I don’t have many fears in life, except small enclosed spaces. I remember once having dinner with friends who LOVE going into caves, and when they began to describe going into an especially small hole within a cave, I had to tell them to stop, as it made me feel very uncomfortable.
The first moment I felt this way was when went into the first “dark enclosed spot”. We were headed upstairs into a space where only one person could walk through. The second moment was when I began to contemplate drowning in the event of a rush of water coming through the caves. And then finally, there was another “dark enclosed spot” towards the end.
Despite those dark spots, the cave is well-lit. I’m not talking “Hollywood” lighting. Rather small lights (LEDs?) which turn on and off according to where you walk. A sign along the way declares the artificial lighting in the caves has a negative impact on the environment. It was reassuring, nonetheless, to be able to walk along and be able to see where you were walking.
Truly, a wonderful experience, and highly recommended. We spent about 30 minutes walking through.
From there we headed down to the river and thermal pool. As we walked down the 700 metres from the caves, we chatted briefly with an older American couple. “We’ve been to Kosciusko many times”, the woman told us, adding they had never been to the caves before and never to the pool. “We have our own mobile home, so we have our swimwear with us”, she told us.
Though I had brought swimwear with me on this trip to the area, I hadn’t bothered to pack it today. I thought it would be too cold to swim but was wrong. We dipped our feet in the pool, while about ten others actually jumped in. There was the American couple, other people similarly aged to us, and a group of early twenties who all seemed nervous at first about jumping in, but very quickly adapted to the surroundings.
There are two pools. One is very shallow and quite warm, but the floor was covered in moss. The other (main) pool is over two metres deep and has an average temperature of around 27 degrees celsius, warmed through the rocks deep within the ground.
Also nearby, there’s a river walk and a campground, and you could easily imagine how people could spend the whole day there.
As we walked back up the hill we stopped from time to time, to take in the sights, the wild-flowers, and to catch our breaths, much like the couple who we chatted to on our way down to the caves and pool.
In the last twenty-four hours I’ve had some lovely flashback memories of my time in China a few months ago.
Over lunch today, my friend Kate – who arrived back from Beijing yesterday – asked me what were my strongest memories and favourite parts of my trip to China. I told her I thought walking on the Great Wall was amazing, really amazing, and how I’d enjoyed the food immensely.
“It was the best food I’ve ever experienced, without exception on holiday”, I told her. As we enjoyed some dumplings and some pork over lunch, we reflected on how good the food was in Beijing, and how average it can sometimes be here in Sydney. It’s all relative I guess, since Asian food in Sydney is usually pretty fantastic, but in Beijing it’s even better.
“You know those pork buns which are always so gluggy here?”, I told her, adding they were universally tasty and non-gluggy there.
And then last night I chatted to a bloke I’ve known for a few years who is originally from China. He told me a former flatmate of mine – who I no longer converse with (he had a troublesome boyfriend) – was now living in China. “Did you go to Destination?” he asked me. When I replied in the affirmative on a Wednesday night, he told me it isn’t so good during the week and that I should have gone on the weekend.
Aside from that, it’s been a reasonably hectic twenty-four hours. I went out for dinner last night with some mates, which was fun. Afterwards, I ran into a mate and had a few drinks with him.
And then today has been “busy as”. I’ve approached a time of the year with several significant looming deadlines.
Disapora T-Shirt
The only other bit of excitement in my day was receiving an invitation to join disapora, the so-called “non evil” version of Facebook. I made a donation towards the project a few months ago on the basis it was about you controlling your info, not Zuckerberg. Last week, I got the t-shirt, and today I got the invite.
They could turn out to be evil also, but from the look of things, I suspect not.
There have been a couple of articles about them here and here. It could be a big flop, of course, and it will probably never have the reach of Facebook, but a nice idea and one which I’m happy to support.
At the moment, it’s only in Alpha release which means it’s very very new. There’s about 10 people called James on it, for example. But I’ve got 10 invites, so if you’re a friend or family member and you would like to give it a try knowing you can probably only chat with me right now, drop me an email and I’ll send you an invite.
I don’t really know what to say about the floods in Lismore, except they’ve had a deep impact on me, even though I’m many hundreds of kilometres away, and even though for the most part, I’m reasonably relaxed about floods at home, as I have written previously.
“Yeah the river’s up, but it’s nothing to worry about”, I’ve often said to my family previously. They usually rely on me for forecasts, interpretations from the SES/Weather Bureau etc. And for the most part, I tell them not to worry. But this time around. when it was clear about how bad things could be, I told them to worry. I was especially concerned for my older family members. They might have lived through floods in 1954 and 1974, and it was all okay, but this time around, they’re in their 60s and 70s, and no longer as able to move around as much. I’m actually a bit grumpy with them, and their choices to “stay at home” this time, when I was clear with them about the risk. There’ll be a “family debrief” I’m sure. From afar it was difficult to think of my family facing such difficult times.
The view from above, thanks to ABC News coverage, where you can see a few family homes surrounded by water.
In explaining my own feelings, I went part of the way this week, on the radio show I present, Editor’s Choice, introducing some interviews from some people from home.
This time a week ago my members of my family were surrounded by about six feet of water. It was, literally, lapping their floor boards. They live in South Lismore, and that’s where I grew up, too.
One of my earliest childhood memories is of the 1974 flood. I remember. It was Sunday night, I was 8 years old, and my dad and I went down the backyard, and knowing a flood was on the way, we went under the house to secure the washing machine in case it floated away, and next door, to secure our car on what we thought was higher ground. We went upstairs, watched the Wonderful World Of Disney, and by the time, the show was over, our house too was surrounded by water.
Before that, my mum and dad told me stories of the 1954 flood, of living in a low-set house, where the water reached the top of the windows, and they lived in the rooftop for four or five days. Mum, dad, my four sisters, my granny, and my uncle. This was the days before the State Emergency Service, when hundreds of people in the area died from drowning.
And now it’s happened again, as Lismore, and many other parts of Australia have either experienced major floods, or have succumbed to Cyclone Debbie. We start this week’s Editor’s Choice, with some of the experiences of the people of just one town, my home town, South Lismore, in these recordings from Samantha Turnbull from ABC Radio in Lismore.
I was on the radio last Thursday night, broadcasting to my home home town. As the team at ABC Radio in Lismore took a break “before the worst of it”, I filled in, remotely from Sydney. Because I know the area very well, and because I know what it’s like to live through a flood, I did the late shift from 11pm to 2am, when they took over again.
There was a moment of realisation for me, as I spoke to the bloke from the SES who told me how serious the problem was.
But in the midst of it all, there was also a moment of joy, as a former school teacher, Barbara Kearney called in to say “hello”.
Thankfully, things aren’t too bad for my family, aside from some buckled walls revealing some asbestos, and losing a little bit of furniture. I think it’s been a wake-up call, though, that they’re no longer the young people they once were, who could climb up into rooftops when the floodwaters come up.
I guess I hadn’t read the invitation on Facebook all that closely, because I genuinely thought it was the original show from Broadway, Forbidden Broadway which was playing at Statement Bar.
Pretty soon after arriving, Colin and I got the vibe that it was, however, an amateur production, or at least something pro-am.
We were worried for a moment because both of us really love Forbidden Broadway. Colin has seen the show a few times, and I am familiar with the material through the CDs.
In essence, Forbidden Broadway is a fairly biting satire of musicals and musical theatre.
In the publicity, tonight’s show was described as…
A wry spoof of the greatest Broadway shows, characters and stars of the last 40 years, where else can you see the likes of Bebe Neuwirth, Stephen Sondheim, Carol Channing, Chita Rivera, Rita Moreno, Idina Menzel, Mandy Patinkin, Liza Minelli, Barbara Streisand, Harvey Fierstein and John Travolta all under one roof (and for one low price!)
Of the work I’ve heard on CD, a particular favourite has been their parody of Mamma Mia…
On the West End it looked ridiculous
here in New York it’s meticulous, deep and smart, an equivalent to high art
For a moment we were a little disappointed that it “wasn’t the real thing”, as we were incorrectly expecting. And it was just a moment, because as soon as they came on, we realised soon this production was genuinely bloody good.
With strong performances, split-second costume changes, the four-member cast worked together really well, under what appeared to be very good direction.
Speaking of which, we got to talking with a woman sitting next to us in the front row. She had travelled down from Newcastle, she told us, because her grandson was the director, Jay. She entertained us with some lovely stories about how he had been directing plays since childhood, and how she had helped with costumes. A particular favourite story was how she had created a seven-foot-tall “bong” for a production he directed last year called, “Reefer Madness”. “What a groover”, we both thought.
I’m not sure how much you would need to know about musical theatre to appreciate the show, as there are a lot of “in jokes”. The “Liza Minelli” routine worked especially well, even if you weren’t completely aware of all her work.
And even if you didn’t know all that much, I suspect it would still be enjoyable as a night of fun and music.
It’s on at the Statement Bar for just two weeks. Tickets through Moshtix.
Forbidden Broadway
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Seems like your new camera takes a decent wide range shot.
Seems like your new camera takes a decent wide range shot.