“I’ve heard mixed reports”, the barman at a nearby venue told me when I mentioned I was meeting a friend for dinner at Bondi’s “Blanca Bar & Dining”.
“It’s Mediterranean food, with “Japanese flavours”, the waitress told us. And with a Finnish chef! What an odd combination, we thought. As you’ll see from the photographs, in common with Japanese food, the presentation was beautiful.
Though they also offered a 10-course meal, we chose the 7-course meal, and it was absolutely perfect. And the taste? We thought all but one of the dishes was excellent. Great flavours. The perfect amount of food. A couple of bottles of wine, and we were very happy, as we left the restaurant. The wine probably forced up the price a fair bit, but even for two people, it was good value (comparatively speaking) for quality food and service. Highly recommended.
“When you live with what I’ve lived with, you listen to people differently. You listen for words of kindness.”, I was told today by the husband of a woman I’ve known for maybe 10 or 15 years, and who I first met about 6 years ago when she first visited Australia. This is her third trip. He’s been living with a form of cancer for the last three years. It was a wonderfully honest moment of personal insight into the life of someone else, offered so simply.
“Too often you spend conversations thinking about what you’ll say next, rather than listening to what people have to actually say”, I told him. “Working in radio, I’ve spent most of my career doing that. I don’t really like to talk much anymore. I much prefer to listen, these days”, I added.
George Street, viewed from Adina Apartments
It was a day where a large-ish group of us, who’ve all known each other for decades, got together for lunch at the wonderful rooftop bar at The Glenmore, a walk around Barrangaroo, and then finally, enjoyed a few beers and some chat at the renovated Palisades Hotel.
Palisade Hotel, Sydney
The weather was perfect. The company was excellent. And there was lots to LISTEN to. And with visiting tourists, there was a wonderful opportunity to see Sydney in ways I haven’t really noticed before, also.
New Norcia is unique in Australia: it’s a village founded and mostly inhabited by a group of Benedictine Monks. Yes, Benedictine Monks, who settled the community in 1846. Why? Good question. It would appear, however, the founder, Dom Rosendo Salvado, had a belief in the need to form an Australian ministry and, according to the museum, had a particular interest in forming an Aboriginal priesthood.
Although the drive from the centre of Perth takes about two hours, it’s a reasonably pleasant one and there are a number of places along the way to stop off and explore, especially in the Swan Valley. On this occasion, however, we didn’t. Although it’s not all that well signposted for the early part of the trip, sticking to the Great Northern Highway makes it relatively easy to locate.
The graveyard at New Norcia, Western Australia
We arrived a fraction too late to take one of the two walking tours offered each day which was a bit of shame because I would have liked to ask some more questions about the Benedictines and the foundation of the community. The museum gives some information but I always want to ask some more (maybe if we had bought the books in the shop..)
New Norcia
On arriving in New Norcia, Sue and I were a little hungry, so we wandered off to the local pub. The pub, built in 1927, is gorgeous with a terrific verandah and an enormous internal staircase that takes you from the rather grand lower floor to the more “country pub style” first floor. With some thought to restoration, I’d like to see the carpet removed from the staircase itself and the paint removed from the probably gorgeous timber. While Sue enjoyed a Ploughman’s Lunch, featuring some local cheeses, I enjoyed an assortment of dips (probably made with local olives) with one of the famous local breads. The Monastery owns a 100 year old oven in which they bake a variety of breads; the bread I enjoyed was similar in texture to Turkish bread, but perhaps with an olive bread taste. I also had a glass of one of the local wines which, the brochure tells me, was “made exclusively for New Norcia from fruit grown at the Abbey’s selected vineyard at Bindoon”, which is a nearby service town to New Norcia.
New Norcia Brickwork
As we began to wander around the village we became instantly aware that, despite the sightly Spanish flavour of the community, we were in the Australian outback. How? The flies. Flies were everywhere, thousands of them all sensing human flesh on which to do their worst. Although it may have been seasonal, we’d both recommend some Aerogard if you decide to visit New Norcia.
The village graveyard is fascinating: although mostly occupied by former monks, there are some local family burial plots as well. Although the graveyard contains large burial plots for the abbots, the ordinary brothers/monks are buried in a more simple manner. In fact, it looks as if they might have done a “bulk lot” on brass crosses, with the graveyard taking on, in some ways, the appearance of a “war graveyard”. We guessed that most of the local families buried in the graveyard were also Catholic, given the Irish and (one) Italian name located on the gravestones. The most recent grave we saw was of someone buried in 1998.
Amongst the other buildings in the village are two schools – boys and girls – which are now mostly used for camps and conferences. It would appear, however, they were used by the Marist Brothers and Josephite Nuns to teach “the young men and women of Western Australia”.
Although the Monastery itself is off limits to the public, there is a guesthouse closeby and, although we didn’t go in, presumably the nearby Abbey Church is also open to the public.
As we wandered around we wondered how the monks, themselves, felt about the town being transformed into a tourist centre. Sue notes that The Benedictines seem to focus their Rule of Life on being in community and respect for others. Seems like you always place the needs of the other above your own and that in doing this you reflect something of God’s love – although that was not really explained.
After consideration of the enormous of cost of maintaining the buildings, we decided that pragmatism probably demanded this. The Museum has for sale a range of memorabilia, ranging from the spiritual to the culinary.
On the lower floor of the museum there is a collection of artefacts from the history of the mission with a particular emphasis on the contact with Aboriginal people. Sue notes that There was a lovely story about the first contact with the local Aboriginal people. Seems like both communities were a touch frightened by the experience but by sharing food together a bond was formed and peaceful relationships established. Seems like an incredibly sensible approach to life – finding meaning and relationship as we break bread together – that notion gets mentioned a lot in a book I read regularly….
On the upper floor there are two collections of religious artworks – one historical, the other contemporary – which contain some terrific works. Of the contemporary work, I was amazed at the calibre of some of the artists featured – mostly West Australians – including a small work by Howard Taylor and two larger works by Julie Dowling. There is also a series of contemporary paintings of some of the monks who have been in the community in the last few years which I thought were terrific, especially as they featured short biographies of the subjects. The historical works are in the more traditional style of European masters.
Overall, it’s a terrific place to visit. Highly recommended.
Ah yes, I remember it well. It was Stockholm Pride in 2011, and Graeme and I were there in the front row for the final ever performance by legendary Swedish pop group, Alcazar. There was a real sense of sadness in the crowd, as Alcazar had delivered so many wonderful pop music memories.
The sadness didn’t last long, because eventually Alcazar would make a comeback, and another, and another. And thank goodness they have, because they brought a really great excitement for the opening of the fourth heat of Melodifestivalen, the finals which choose which song goes on to represent Sweden at the Eurovision Song Contest.
In many ways their entry was going over old ground. Their song sounded like just about every other Alcazar song from the last five years (Fredrik Kempe made his fourth consecutive appearance in this year’s competition), and their dance routines are in desperate need of an update. But they’re Alcazar and the Swedish public loves them. Well, more than they did last year anyway, when they never made it to the final. This year, thankfully, Alcazar made it through.
There was a lot to like about the songs and performers in the fourth and final heat. The second track “Fight Me If You Dare” by I.D.A was a surprise favourite of mine. I also really liked “Hollow” by Janet Leon. Sadly, neither made it through to either the final or Andra Chansen. Anton Ewald, a favourite of mine from last year, thankfully did make it through, though the song he has this year is not up to the standard of last year’s hit, “Begging”. Still, he’s a terrific dancer and quite a cutie.
The hosts for the television presentation weren’t as awful as they’ve been in previous weeks. Still awful, but not as awful.
Conscious that I sometimes share material on other platforms that never makes “the cut” here on my blog, I will start sharing a few bits and pieces here also. These are the tweets, posts, and observations that still seem relevant at the end of each month. Lots of ephemera, but hopefully still quite entertaining.
November 1 : Have booked flights home to Lismore (Ballina/Byron) for Christmas. The most expensive in living memory I’ve paid for a flight home ($300 – no additional luggage, but included preferred seats). If you’re thinking of flights for Christmas, don’t leave it too late.November 3 : Called in to my local pub, The Shakespeare for a cheap steak for lunch, and then realised I was seated at Laurie’s Table. Apparently he sat at this table for over fifty nine years. I’ve got some catching up to do.November 3 : Going through some archive material and found the Wagga Wagga float from Mardi Gras 1994. Some people didn’t want to be identified on TV, so they donned Michael McCormack masks. At the time, he was the local newspaper editor and writing some very anti-LGBTQI editorials.
November 3 : Ahead of my NBN installation, I dragged out my old “home phone” tonight. Still, I did messenger video calls with friends tonight. I should just divert the number to my mobile, right?
November 4 : A friend of mine snapped this. Apparently they changed it very quickly.
November 4 : Amanda Vanstone made me laugh with her comment “”The sad thing, I think, is that we have got two guys standing as president, probably both of whom would have to do a test to get a driver’s licence in Australia,” (About ABC TV’s US Election Coverage)
November 8November 9 : From Sharron : “Happy Birthday James O’Brien love you to the moon and back. Have a great day xx@November 10 : Biscuit, the collectively owned cat in our apartment block sits patiently next to… the rat traps.
November 10 : OMG, have only just discovered this awesome video from Lena Philipsson – Stockholm (Officiell Video)November 10 : Since Anne Ruston is in the news, I thought I’d share this memory of when I used to work with her mum. Her mum was once a presenter at ABC Riverland in Renmark.November 11 : Last night I attended a fantastic story-telling, photography, community event in Surry Hills (only 50 metres from home in a laneway I walk through two or three times per day), combining the talents of @surryhillsandvalleys and @village_voices Really wonderful evening.
November 14 : There’s a thread about celebrity lookalikes, so I’m sharing mine. @TheRickWilson Much relief, as it used to be Kevin Spacey.
November 16 : Though it’s only mid-November, that hasn’t stopped Christmas decorations appearing on Crown Street, Surry Hills. This is the window from Sky Sirens, which is “The Academy of Burlesque, Pole Dance and Aerial Atristry.”
November 19 : I wanted to reply to some colleagues at work with an image of Dorrie Evans from Number 96 with the comment, “Herbert, why wasn’t I told”. But then I realised one of them was born after Pat McDonald died. I thought I’d save myself the embarassment by sharing here.
November 20 : The pic doing the rounds of Rudy Giuliani reminds me of the final scene from the 1971 film, “Death In Venice”.
November 23 : Fine workmanship.
November 25 : Oh my. The ATM has gone crazy tonight.
November 25 : Since connecting to the NBN, I have a home phone again. In the week since installation, I’ve had one family call, and every other call (maybe 10) has been a scam call. My number is unlisted, but clearly someone has had it before.
November 27 : Why I love my neighbourhood.
November 27 : Have any journos done the Santa Photos story yet? It’s almost December. COVID-19 distancing with Santa. Need to book photos, and most bookings are full, I hear. Photoshop an option? Lots of parents doing it themselves. A good story, and good talkback.
November 28 : I won’t complain since I have a fan to keep me cool, but if it’s this hot in Surry Hills, goodness knows what it’s like in some of the places I’ve lived previously. Wagga. Bourke. Renmark etc…
November 28 : Enjoying The Reagans | OFFICIAL TRAILER | The doumentary is good. Episode 2 calls out the racist dog-whistling by Reagan, and which is also evident with Trump. The narrative so far is that Reagan wasn’t all that bright and Nancy was the brains behind it all. It’s worth looking at. Features Ron Junior (sounds like Don Junior), and Kitty Kelley amongst others.
November 28 : This is a compelling and, at times, upsetting, but beautifully made slideshow of flood photographs from the history of my hometown, Lismore. James O’Brien and Lena Noonan moved from the South Coast (Bega) to Lismore in 1908, and mostly lived in North & South Lismore. This is where most of my family continues to live, so they all know what floods are like. I once remember my dad mentioning that his sister-in-law, my Aunty Eileen (an Aboriginal woman, so her history of the area goes back thousands of years) once mentioned a flood that went over the Cathedral Hill. I can’t begin to imagine… Anyway, anyone with a connection to Lismore, this is worth a look.
Imagine, if you would, half a dozen people aged from 25 to 70 all seated around a couple of tables at an inner-city bar in Sydney. On the tables in front of us were a couple of packs of dominoes. Without hesitation, under the influence of a couple of happy hour priced beers, the packets were opened and the dominoes were being distributed. Very suddenly, however, we all realised it was so long since any of us had played the game none of us could really remember the rules. We stumbled along as best we could and played by our own rules.
In the group of people I work most closely with, we don’t often go out for drinks after work. The “drinking culture” of the media seems to have “softened”, as people have partnered off, gained children and so on. In the midst of that change, it was really lovely to catch up with some colleagues, including some I haven’t really seen that much of lately, and to play, somewhat badly, a game of dominoes as we chatted.
As I arrived at the town of Songzhou – the home of a village of 2,000 practising artists – I wondered to myself, “what if I go one stop further?”. And so I did. And then I did again. And then I kept on going. Until eventually I found myself out in the countryside. It was an absolute pleasure to be able to take in some of those familiar non-urban smells that I’ve spent more than half my life with (though obviously not recently).
Catching the bus.
As I travelled on the bus through small villages there were particular images which remain with me: the massive amounts of corn on the roadside drying, the backyard recycling depots full of plastic bottles, and the seemingly “third world” living conditions of some of the housing. I travelled for as long as I felt comfortable until eventually I got up and off at a bus stop in the middle of nowhere. I felt reasonably comfortable there would eventually be a return bus, since there was a handful of people waiting on the roadside.
Corn stacks in ChinaSmall village outside Beijing
I must have been a rather odd site to have appeared from nowhere. Amongst those standing was an older bloke – maybe in his 50s – who was obviously a bit of a joker. He was walking around chatting to everyone and then came over to me for a bit of a chat. Through sign language he asked me why I had my pull-over wrapped in a knot around my kneck, suggested I put it on properly, and then we all laughed. We chatted for a while – he in Chinese, I in English – and made “the best of friends”. We sat next to each other on the bus. I was really pleased I’d gone that “one stop further”.
As I arrived back in Songzhu, with every intention of going to the artists village I wandered around for a while looking at the people and into the shop windows.
It was then I saw something which really upset me: a number of people in extreme stages of disability who were begging. It was the kind of image you most commonly associate with parts of India you might have seen on film or television. Suddenly going to an artists village seemed a little trivial, and so I wandered around a little further – trying to regain my thoughts – before heading back to Beijing proper.
Standing on a bridgeKate and I caught up late this afternoon for a while. And then it was off to meet some more Australian artists who are in Beijing at the moment, currently installing an exhibition in the 798 district. Statue made from incense sticks
We also had a bite to eat there. And then back home.