I had a realisation earlier today I haven’t really been home much lately. I was home in Lismore for Christmas. I was in Newcastle for a week with my work, and my work will take me to Brisbane for a few days later in the month. And last weekend, a friend and I travelled to the Sunshine Coast for a few days.
We stayed in an apartment at Maroochydore which was nice: spacious and close to the beach. Maroochydore itself was quieter than I remembered, though noting it’s a few years since I last visited there. We relaxed, ate well, and enjoyed our time there very much. Memorably, Maroochydore must have the world’s largest adult store which, amusingly, has a large sign at the front saying they have parking and you should “enter via rear”. We both laughed.
Mooloolaba was a little more exciting, and a little more visually appealing with a lovely beach, and a lovely bush walk. The surf club was an excellent place for lunch: they’ve done a nice job making it appealing to both tourists and the many older, retired people who can still afford to eat out at what’s essentially a tourist town. My friend was after a pedicure and was told the basic pedicure would cost $90 “because we’re a tourist town”. Yikes. An unexpected highlight of the town was the Steve Irwin statue just off the beach. Yes, really.
Mooloolaba, Queensland
Mooloolaba, Queensland
Steve Irwin statue at Mooloolaba, Queensland
On the subject of travel, my mid-year plans are coming along nicely. In essence, a week in Japan, a week in New York, and three weeks in Europe (Sweden, of course) which now includes 5 days in Rome. I’ve never been there before, but am looking forward to it very much, having found good central accommodation (without breaking the bank), and with plans for sight-seeing both in Rome and beyond (Venice for a day-trip surely?). Any travel tips would be most appreciated.
A few months ago a friend and I got together over dinner at a restaurant in Surry Hills. Compared with many, I’m a long-term local, whereas she is a reasonably new arrival, but with a passion for the suburb in which we live. And a common concern, that as Surry Hills goes through the latest transformation, some sense of “community” may be lost along the way.
As we spoke, we became consciously aware that many of the “stories” of Surry Hills go back to the days of Ruth Park novels, and 1930s gangsters. What about life now??
We discussed the idea of story-telling as a way to unite the community in a modern way. There are so many interesting people living here today, and we thought it would be great to capture their stories. Along the way, we’ve enlisted some others with a similar passion.
Today we’ve launched a website which profiles some of the people of Surry Hills “in their own words”. There’s seven to start with, and we’ll have one each week, with a plan to publish their stories on Wednesdays.
Our first “feature story” is of Elizabeth Burton.
When we first came here people thought, “Oh Surry Hills, it’s a bad area”. There were the druggies and criminals. We have had unusual people in our building, we had a drug dealer that got bashed up and we have had incidences in our building. But mostly in our building we’ve been kind to each other. No one has coffee with one another, everyone has their private space, but we are kind to each other, we are lovely to each other. I did the garden for 20 years until my hips broke.
When I got into this building my daughter was three. There was a lady named Joan at Northcott. Joan and I started cooking and having lunch there. We got a donation so I would make a baked dinner for 20 people, we would hire a bus and take the people at Northcott on a picnic out to Watsons Bay. It was lovely. They have all passed now, that’s how life goes.
I used to do hairdressing at Maude House on Devonshire street when it was around a long time ago. It was run by a Drag queen (are you allowed to say “drag queen” these days?) I worked there casually.
In that time, one day, a guy grabbed my daughter’s bag when she was walking on the street and ran away saying “Sorry I’m a druggie”. My daughter ran after him. She had her heels on so she was getting puffed running and she took the studded belt off she was wearing to be able to run better. He said “Oh no don’t hit me. I’m sorry. I’m a drug addict. ” She wasn’t going to hit him. She just needed to take her belt off. That made me laugh a lot. The other girls she was with called the police but my daughter ran after him.
The dynamics of our building have changed today, it was friendlier, you felt safe, and we had our characters. People stay here for many years. Many people die here. Now we have been here a third of our lives, it’s really hard to think “Where will we go?” This is our swan song. You have to comply with everything they ask of you in this building. I have had fights with people, because when they come to inspect your house, I wonder, “Where are their manners? I’ve walked you through my house, now you are opening doors. What does it have to do with you?” I don’t have anything to hide but they treat you like a non-person. I went over to housing and spoke to the boy who is supposed to be looking out for the building during the lightrail construction about the rats that are invading the building since they started building the light rail. All the rats live under the ground. They dig up the ground and they run up the hill. It’s unbelievable. I have already killed 19 and I’m a Buddhist! It breaks my heart to do that. But nothing has been done even though I have written letters. We all want something to be done.
When you get old you feel like no one is listening to you. When I was young and spunky they would be all over me, but now, especially when people walk looking at their phones we ignore each other. Sometimes they walk towards me not looking at me and I just yell out “Oi!” They usually jump back. I think they are missing out on life. In the old days you could sit and have a chat with people next to you on the train but not now.
I’m very vicious about a couple of things. At the end of the street there is a termination centre and there is a woman who stands there with a picture of a dead foetus to deter people from going in there. That makes me angry in my heart. I used to be horrible to her. Now I just look at her and say “Hail Mary full of grace Jesus knows you’re a disgrace!” So that’s better than what I used to say before.
In 1968 I went to Vietnam as a gogo dancer. I did not know I was going to war, I was out for an adventure. We arrived in Saigon. On the first night we arrived we were taken to some blokes and had a meal. I worked in a show called the rainbow show. We weren’t allowed to speak to anyone that was not Caucasian. I got into trouble because I had American Indian and black guys as friends . But when we did a show they had to sit separately. I was categorised as a “race riot risk” so I was put out of the country.
Once they told us we stopped the war because when we were doing the show the Vietcong were in the trees with the binoculars enjoying the show. That was an amazing experience in Vietnam.
I went to Hong Kong. I fell in lust with a guy, went to America. Then in NY I auditioned for a strip tease job. I got it. Then I got an agent and travelled from 1968-1979 all over the world. I performed until I was 60, they were nice years. Then I got arthritis in my hips. I used to do the splits!
I was a poor little girl. My mother called me a “big ape” and I was her slave. I would say to that little girl “Have more faith in yourself”. You get a lot of negative input in life. I’ve been judged all my life for choosing to be a strip tease dancer.
There’s a feeling that you get on stage when you are in your vibe and your body is working well and your tricks are coming off. You don’t have that feeling anywhere else. I love it. I’m going to have a 70th birthday and I’m going to have a show that night. I mean, I did shows when I was pregnant with my daughter and people were shocked but I just thought I looked fab.
There’s six more stories launched today, with another one coming out each Wednesday.
It was standing room only (and maybe not even that) last night at Sydney’s Newtown Hotel for the final of the Unisex Amateur Stripping Competition hosted beautifully by drag artiste, Vanessa Wagner.
And no, I don’t mean paint stripping. I mean good old fashioned burlesque, with an emphasis on entertainment, rather than some of what I imagine occurs now in Kings Cross strip bars (which I admit I’ve never been to).
I’d gone last week with my mate Paul, and most memorable was the performance by Elizabeth Burton, now aged in her 60s. She performed again last night and was guest judge along with musician, Paul Mac.
Unlike last week, however, it was much more crowded, as word of “The Grand Final” had obviously spread far and wide, perhaps due to this blog. The last time I’d ever been in such a crowded hotel environment was for an FA Cup Final (yes, I do lead a diverse life, don’t I?) when we were jammed in like sardines.
So tight, in fact, it was near impossible to raise your arms to have a beer. Honestly, it was easier to get to the bathroom by leaving the pub and going across the road to another pub instead. I also toyed with the idea of bringing a beer back with me, as it was equally difficult getting to the nearby bar. But, it was a great night and one which I enjoyed immensely. So of course, I had to write about it.
As noted by The Other Andrew, it was so crowded we couldn’t both help but wonder about the potential fire hazard, especially as the winning contestant’s act included flames. It wouldn’t be the first time, however, anyone associated with the Newtown Hotel (not currently) would be linked in the minds of some to a fire in a Sydney gay bar!
And the strippers? Oh, my goodness, they were fantastic. Most memorable was the winner who came on stage wearing overalls and a welding mask, and who then succeeded to play out the role of Jennifer Beale’s character in the movie, “Flashdance”. I don’t think I’ve laughed so much in such a long time, as she went through all the right moves (including the famous Maniac running scene) in record time, before finally setting fire to her pasties. Bloody funny.
Stripper at Newtown Hotel
Also memorable was the young guy who came out wearing balloons which, one by one, he popped to rapturous applause. Oh yeah, and there was a young guy from my hometown, Lismore, who I’m still not entirely sure isn’t my cousin’s eldest son. Actually, there was a fair bit of Lismore/Ballina stuff going on, with Vanessa Wagner also talking about living in Ballina (or Bal-nuh, as we long-term locals call it) and handing out “How To Vote” cards last weekend for “The Greens”.
From the Grand Final of the Amateur Stripping Competition in March 2007 at the Newtown Hotel
So yeah, I’m expecting this post will turn up in lots of search engines thanks to its title, though maybe not as many as last week’s post about Hugh Jackman which got a fair bit of attention, according to my blog stats. But I’ve also posted to do something to repair to my reputation, having been heavily defamed by The Other Andrew, who blames ME for HIS hangover today. I was at work this morning at six o’clock bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, so I hardly think I can be blamed. Surely Dr Phil might have something to say about individuals apportioning blame to others? Hehehe.
Ever since it opened there’s been a lot of hype about MONA, the Museum of Old and New Art.
I guess a lot of it has to do with the story of how it came to be, as the passion/play-thing of David Walsh who made his fortune as a professional gambler. A lot of it also has to do with the often provocative subject matter of the art. “Most of the work is about sex”, a friend of a friend joked. And then of course you have what’s possibly the best known work, “Cloaca”, the infamous “poo-making machine”.
“Don’t worry, he’s just burping and farting”, the gallery assistant told me, as I recoiled from the smell of “Cloaca”. “I was expecting to be a little grossed out”, I told him in reply, “I just wasn’t expecting the smells”. Although memorable, there’s a lot more to MONA than “Cloaca”. Indeed, the work I spent most of my time viewing was a wonderful installation piece by an artist from Turkey.
Museum of Old and New Art, Hobart
In a large room, there were maybe 200 television sets all showing different videos, and in front of each television, there was an old couch or armchair where you could sit down and watch a simple video of someone talking about their life story. The one I found most interesting was that of a young man talking about how he had ended up in prison after a series of violent attacks, including a murder. You could literally spend a week at MONA just watching the videos in this one work.’
Museum of Old and New Art, Hobart
But I only had a day, so I did my best to look around and enjoy as much as I could. Another favourite from my day at MONA included an installation work featuring thirty different people on television screens simultaneously, though individually, featuring people singing songs by Madonna.
A lot of the work is “challenging”. In particular, there’s a large painting of a transgender person which focusses very much on the female genitals, and there’s a piece by Juan Davila (one of my favourite Australian artists) which portrays gay sex in a pretty graphic way. These are the works which would many would find very difficult, and which prompted Sue to note “There’s a lot of children here, which is surprising given the nature of a lot of the works”.
Museum of Old and New Art, Hobart
But for me? I absolutely loved MONA, and would absolutely love to return.
“It takes quite a while to get here”, I said to a friend at lunch today. He and his partner are also from the Eastern Suburbs where the idea of a trip to Lane Cove is the kind of thing you might only consider on a long-weekend! “We used 5 forms of transport to get here”, told me, “…bus, ferry, train, car and foot”. Although I’ve lived in Sydney for over twelve years, it was actually the first time I’ve ever been to Lane Cove. Travelling through the heartland of the “leafy North Shore” was a really pleasant surprise for me, and I totally understand how much people who live in the area really love it. The trees, the gullies, the ridges. All very beautiful. Just an awfully long way away on public transport.
My other major public transport expedition this week was on Thursday. After installing my new floppy drive and new DVD-burner last weekend, my computer had stopped working. It just wouldn’t boot up, leading me to believe there may been a power supply problem. So I packed up my computer, and hopped on the bus to Pitt Street where my favourite computer technician, Jeremy has his office. Murphy’s Law demanded that immediately after explaining to Jeremy what I thought the problem was, it worked straight away. As it turned out, one of the USB ports was acting up, and so there was nothing too much to worry about.
My only other expedition this week was one much closer to home to see see Ngapartji Ngapartji at Belvoir St Theatre. With a lead actor who was absolutely tremendous, and a group of traditional Aboriginal women providing support, it was a truly remarkable piece of theatre. I thought the first half was terrific, dealing with a range of complex matters, including the nuclear tests at Maralinga with honesty, integrity, passion and humour. Unfortunately, it went on for far too long. LIke most theatre these days, both Colin and I agreed it was “about twenty minutes too long”. Another friend who was at lunch today, who was also there on Wednesday night, agreed.
Aside from a mini-beer, which became a major-beer with Graeme on Friday night, that’s my week. Next week will be more interesting, I promise.
Everything is going smoothly so far. I’d pre-purchased my ticket for the Arlanda Express, which is a dedicated high-speed rail link that whisks you from the airport into Stockholm Central Station in just 18 minutes. It hits speeds of up to 200 km/h, but the best part for me was the accessibility; it offers level boarding from the platform, which makes life much easier. The airport wheelchair assistance was also excellent—the wheelchair assistant took me all the way to the platform.
Aside from a minor detour—there are two Radisson hotels next to Central Station and I naturally picked the wrong one first—it’s been a breeze. It’s cold, certainly, but hardly a blizzard. I’m actually still wearing my shorts. Tomorrow is forecast to be sunny.
The $50 Doctor
I’m flying with Norse Atlantic Airways, a relatively new low-cost carrier that has stepped into the gap left by other budget long-haul airlines. They operate a modern fleet of Boeing 787 Dreamliners, offering a “no-frills” experience where you pay a low base fare and then add on everything else—from meals to seat selection—as extra. I bought the ticket well aware of these limitations, but the price for a return trip between Bangkok and Stockholm was too good to pass up.
While boarding my flight in Bangkok, I overheard a classic budget airline exchange. “Could I get a seat in the exit row?” a woman asked the flight attendant. “That will be $50,” came the reply. “Even if the seat is free? And I’m a doctor,” she added, hoping for a professional courtesy. “That’s still $50,” came the reply.
“It’s half the price of flying with Thai Airways,” a man remarked to me as we boarded. He’s Swedish but has a Thai wife; they split their retirement years between both countries. At 70, he’s been retired for a decade after running a printing business. He was returning to Sweden to check on his house on an island in the archipelago. He mentioned he also helps out his older neighbours by “emptying out their shit buckets”—apparently a common logistical challenge for island dwellers.
Conversations and Cultural Clues
One thing about having an amputation is that it’s often a natural conversation starter. He noticed my Australian passport and asked what happened. Realising we could have a laugh, I gave him my usual lines: I sometimes tell people it was a shark, or that I lost it fighting as a soldier in the Middle East.
I’d estimate about half the passengers were Swedish. In the middle of winter, they flock to Thailand to escape the gloom. You can always spot the returning Swedes at Bangkok Airport—they’re the ones with the deep, two-week tans. I remember once seeing a woman take off her sunglasses to reveal stark white circles where her tan hadn’t reached.
The In-flight Experience
Months ago, in a moment of sensible foresight, I’d pre-ordered a diabetic meal: grilled fish with steamed vegetables. It was actually quite good, even if the toasted sandwiches smelled tempting.
The in-flight menu is priced in US dollars. A ham and cheese toastie will set you back about $10.50, with small meals around $13.00. They also sell a lot of “travel tech” merchandise, like luggage trackers and Bluetooth connectors for headphones. Not that those were useful today—an email last night warned us the in-flight entertainment system was broken.
While the Swedish couple next to me were quite concerned, it didn’t bother me. I’d brought my Chromebook tablet, packed with about a dozen of my all-time favourite films for precisely this reason. I revisited some absolute classics like Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and Brokeback Mountain. There is something about the isolation of a long-haul flight that makes those heavy, emotional dramas hit even harder. I also have Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (fitting for a Stockholm arrival) ready to go.
I also started watching A Single Man, where Colin Firth plays an academic in the 1960s dealing with the hidden grief of losing his partner. I remember sobbing out loud the first time I saw it. Within fifteen minutes today, I started to tear up again, so I decided to save the rest for the flight home.
The crew were lovely—a truly international mix with a Swedish captain, an American customer service lead, and French-speaking cabin crew. I had one flight attendant speak to me in Swedish, and I was able to respond accordingly The plane felt modern and well-maintained, despite the tech glitch.
The flight from Bangkok to Stockholm takes roughly 12 hours and 40 minutes. We left the lunchtime heat of Thailand and touched down in mid-evening, sub-zero Stockholm.
Interestingly, the security officer seemed baffled as to why an Australian would be coming to Sweden at this time of year. #rollseyes
My Swedish friends also can’t understand why I’d visit now rather than in the height of summer. I understand their perspective, but for me, the snow and ice are the main draw. It’s been ten years since I last saw a proper winter. There are risks, of course—falling is a bigger concern now as an amputee—but the beauty of the landscape far outweighs the downsides.
My friends back home seem to be in a panic about the weather on my behalf, but I’m exactly where I want to be.
It never rains. It pours. There are many weeks (and weekends) where I find myself sitting at home staring at the ceiling, or sitting on the couch scrolling through the television channels hoping desperately there’ll be something to watch. Dullsville
This week and next don’t fall into that category. Work is super-busy right now. On top of that, I have a number of after-hours work-related social occasions. On top of that, there’s a trip to Western Australian for work (with a bit of pleasure tagged on at the end). I’m looking for ideas on the weekend in Perth, by the way, which I haven’t already done, having spent a year of my life living there. I’m catching up with friends, but there are still some gaps in my schedule, especially on the Sunday.
And of course, I also have a “real life” which includes a birthday lunch on this weekend, my own birthday in November, and a bunch of unrelated social catch-ups.
The combination of all of these things means I’ve actually had to say “no” to a number of events.
Tonight, I had the choice of attending Art After Hours at the Art Gallery of NSW, or a recording of Now Hear This at the Art House Hotel. In the end, I chose Now Hear This, a story-telling night that eventually finds its way on to ABC Local Radio and Radio National.
I’ve attended a few of these previously, and I have to say tonight’s was the best. The room was crowded, the stories were great, and there was a lovely vibe. I even received a heart-felt thankyou from the host, Melanie Tait, for some of contribution I’ve been able to make. I even contributed what I thought was the most interesting user-contribution of the night to the theme of unexpected surprises. A lovely night, and an excellent choice.
Now Hear This at Art House
Now Hear This at Art House
Now Hear This at Art House
Now Hear This at Art House
I’m sure that in two weeks time I’ll be sitting on the couch twiddling my thumbs. :)
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Every time I have visited the Mooloolaba Surf Club the restaurant has done a roaring trade. It must be one the most profitable clubs of its type in the country.
I heart Rome and am very envious! (I’ll email you a link to our Italy flickr pix)
I would recommend getting up very early to visit the Forum,Palatine (my favourites) & Colosseum to avoid the insane crowds.
Not immediately obvious, but fabulous places to visit: centrale montemartini: broken statues amidst the achinery of a disused power station. Just as amazing as it sounds galleria nazionale d’arte moderna: gallery of modern art. In such an ancient city, great to see some more contemporary stuff terme di caracalla: Ruins of Giant Baths – really, really beautiful grounds.
But really, even just wandering about the city and soaking up the atmosphere is positively excellent.
ARGH! wordpress ate my comment (though if it didn’t – apologies for the dupe)
xxxxxxxxxx
I heart Rome and am very envious! (I’ll email you a link to our Italy flickr pix)
I would recommend getting up very early to visit the Forum,Palatine (my favourites) & Colosseum to avoid the insane crowds.
Not immediately obvious, but fabulous places to visit: centrale montemartini: broken statues amidst the machinery of a disused power station. Just as amazing as it sounds galleria nazionale d’arte moderna: gallery of modern art. In such an ancient city, great to see some more contemporary stuff terme di caracalla: Ruins of Giant Baths – really, really beautiful grounds.
But really, even just wandering about the city and soaking up the atmosphere is positively excellent.
I also received this further comment about Rome which I’m sharing anonymously
Have just had a catch up on the blog …..offering these suggestions for the traveller …..
http://www.the-beehive.com/ accommodation very centrally located in Rome ( if you want to review what you have booked ) We loved this place , as it was so easy to navigate many walkable routes all over Rome Good list of ideas on their site . We stayed here in 2003 , and have told so many people about it, have never been able to book there since !
http://goitaly.about.com/od/venice-islands/ss/torcello-island-venice.htm a lovely peaceful trip and surroundings….set apart from the general tourist trail, and was once a rival of Venice ….. till the canals silted over and the arrival of Malaria …almost plague conditions . Wiped out all the great farming area…used to be the ‘greengrocer ‘for Venice.
St Mark’s Venice, of course is a must ….if not flooded! We were there late in the year and dark by 4p.m. so missed a bit of touring time …your travel time is better planned. Venice was our last stop , before we returned to Florence and exiting to Vienna for the flight home …in fairness we were pretty tuckered out by that stage of the travel ….eight weeks ….Florence, Paris, Ireland for eight days and back to Paris overnight, then to Milan, Sondrio in the Valtellina , lower Swiss Alps ( birthplace of my Grandfather) then Florence to Naples , Paestum ( also worth a visit) Rome, Assisi ( Fabulous weekend ) Venice and back to Florence …phew !!!
Every time I have visited the Mooloolaba Surf Club the restaurant has done a roaring trade. It must be one the most profitable clubs of its type in the country.
I heart Rome and am very envious! (I’ll email you a link to our Italy flickr pix)
I would recommend getting up very early to visit the Forum,Palatine (my favourites) & Colosseum to avoid the insane crowds.
Not immediately obvious, but fabulous places to visit:
centrale montemartini: broken statues amidst the achinery of a disused power station. Just as amazing as it sounds
galleria nazionale d’arte moderna: gallery of modern art. In such an ancient city, great to see some more contemporary stuff
terme di caracalla: Ruins of Giant Baths – really, really beautiful grounds.
But really, even just wandering about the city and soaking up the atmosphere is positively excellent.
ARGH! wordpress ate my comment (though if it didn’t – apologies for the dupe)
xxxxxxxxxx
I heart Rome and am very envious! (I’ll email you a link to our Italy flickr pix)
I would recommend getting up very early to visit the Forum,Palatine (my favourites) & Colosseum to avoid the insane crowds.
Not immediately obvious, but fabulous places to visit:
centrale montemartini: broken statues amidst the machinery of a disused power station. Just as amazing as it sounds
galleria nazionale d’arte moderna: gallery of modern art. In such an ancient city, great to see some more contemporary stuff
terme di caracalla: Ruins of Giant Baths – really, really beautiful grounds.
But really, even just wandering about the city and soaking up the atmosphere is positively excellent.
I also received this further comment about Rome which I’m sharing anonymously