There was quite a crowd tonight in Sydney at the National Art School.
As part of the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras for 2018, currently underway, there’s a terrific exhibition called, “The Museum of Love & Protest”, which commemorates forty-years since the first ever Mardi Gras.
These are some of my favourite photographs from the exhibition.
Richard, who works at the National Museum in Canberra is noted for his interest in the history of the Irish in Australia. In particular, his interest in the many young women who came to Australia during or immediately after the Great Famine of the late 1840s.
Here in Sydney, the famine is remembered in the Irish Famine Memorial at the Hyde Park Barracks. Reflecting the displacement experienced by the many young women (and all immigrants and refugees, really), part of the wall at the barracks has also been displaced. They’ve taken the brick-works, turned them at an angle, inserted a large glass plate with the names of many of the young women engraved, and have placed a small table with some household implements to tell the story of their life before and after arriving in Australia where many gained employment as domestic servants, ahead of marriage.
It’s a very touching and beautiful memorial, and I was lucky enough to go along to the launch of the memorial ten years ago.
Today’s walk was organised by the Historic Houses Trust, and most of those attending were either trust members, or descendants of many of the famine girls.
So although I’m not a direct descendant of these “famine girls”, I was interested in going on the walk to learn more about some of the common issues she may have faced.
Of the many points Richard Reid made today one was clear: that although these young women are often described in desperate terms, for most of them a life in Australia was a vast improvement on conditions back in Ireland. Here, they mostly received a regular wage (whereas they would often have experienced large periods of unemployment back in Ireland). And he emphasised that while some of them experienced problems associated with their relocation, the vast majority settled into a reasonably happy life in Australia and just “disappeared”.
The walk took us from the steps of the Opera House (they would have arrived at Circular Quay), up Macquarie Street, to Government House (to reflect on the significant number of NSW Govenors who were Irish, and who often did things to improve the conditions of the Irish in Australia), before finally arriving at Hyde Park (where many of these women stayed in the early part of their settlement in Sydney).
In terms of my own research, Richard Reid mentioned the availability and importance of weather records in helping to tell the stories of immigration. “The weather which greeted them on arrival would undoubtedly have influenced their impression of life in Australia”, he noted. He also mentioned the “Catholic Weekly” (and before it, “The Freeman’s Journal”), as an historical source (a source which I had given little thought to until today).
He also mentioned the opening of an exhibition at the National Museum on March 17, 2010 about the Irish in Australia, and of the forthcoming tenth anniversary of the Famine Memorial at Hyde Park.
It was a really interesting and enjoyable tour. Thanks to Richard Reid and to the Historic Houses Trust. Bloody hot though…
It’s Monday night, another warm night, and I kind of feel like nothing much has happened in the last week. Gee, that’s an invitation to keep reading, isn’t it? The thing is, I’m a bit frazzled because I’ve been awake since 3.30am and it’s now almost 9.30pm. I had a sick staff member today and it was probably easier for me to work the early shift than organise someone else.
Last Wednesday night I went for ABBAMAIL Drinks at the Huntsbury Hotel. The big news in ABBAworld at the moment is the public appearance, for the first time since 1983, of all four members of ABBA at the same location at the same time. The occasion was the opening night of the Swedish production of “Mamma Mia”. Although it’s been a regular feature for Frida to appear on stage with Bjorn and Benny at these opening nights, this time she took a much lower profile, resisting the urge to appear on stage. The wisdom in ABBA fan circles is that she was paying respect to Agnetha who doesn’t like crowds at the best of times and chose to remain seated. If the situation has been interpreted correctly I think it’s a terrific thing for Frida to have done.
Michaela and I also caught up for drinks this week at a favourite new pub, The Abercrombie (aka The Australian) located on Broadway. Michaela and I usually catch up for a drink or two each week at the nearby County Clare Inn, but since the yuppies and students have taken over, we’ve moved down the road to the Abercrombie’s beer garden.
After the drink, I wandered up to Oxford Street and bought a few DVDs from the cheap CD chop, including a DVD of the original “Boy From Oz” tv documentary about the life of Peter Allen. It’s a terrific documentary with a number of highlights, including a segment where Bette Midler sings “Tenterfield Saddler” at the Peter Allen tribute concert and forgets the words. It’s both funny and touching. And did I mention I’m going to see Bette Midler… and Cher? Oh dear!
On Sunday, I met Ellen, Michael and a few others for lunch at Bodhi, a terrific vegetarian yum cha restaurant near St. Mary’s Cathedral. I first went to Bodhi with my friend Sue, who is a vegan. Although the restaurant describes itself as vegetarian, I’m pretty sure the menu is vegan. The crowd, as always, was very relaxed: an intriguing combination of inner city trendoids (the intelligentsia of course, since it’s vegan) – that was us! – and youngish couples with babies. Babies, babies, where did all the babies come from? The food is great, though it’s probably not a good idea to drag along people who think vegetarian might include chicken and seafood!
Kate and I also caught up on Saturday afternoon, eating at my favourite little dumpling and noodle place in the Burlington Centre, Chinatown. Kate was in town for the fiftieth birthday of legendary Australian rock journalist, Toby Creswell, whom she’s known for a thousand years. Kate was also here to buy some objects for the farewell ceremony she is planning for her sister, Liz, who died last year. The plan is to scatter Liz’s ashes at Seal Rocks on the Mid North Coast in a ceremony that will feature a strong Chinese element. Subsequently, Kate and I went to the Chinese temple shop where Kate purchased a number of things for burning. Kate and I selected objects we’d like in the event of our deaths – a mobile phone for Kate and a radio for me – spending quite some time there. The shop was terrific and the assistant was very helpful.
Also in the last week, the art group to which Kate and I belong, Hawkesbury One has made another purchase. We now own a total of eleven works by contemporary Australian artists. The latest is a piece by Richard Wastell, a Tasmamian landscape painter with a strong environmental theme throughout his work. The piece we’ve purchased is called Blood River. Forgetting my own body in the highlands which, although not our first choice from his current exhibition, is a piece we all really like. Although the exhibition is currently being shown in Devonport, I’ll pop into the Dick Bett Gallery when I visit Tasmania later this week.
But before that, I have a couple of things on the agenda. I’ve won tickets to sneak preview of the movie, Lawless Heart screening tomorrow night at the Dendy Opera Quays. The movie centres of the life of three couples affected by the death of someone close to them all. Interestingly enough, the male partner of the guy who dies embarks on a relationship with a woman. On Wednesday, Damien and I are going to the Annual “Taste of NZ” Wine Fair at the Four Seasons, which, for $35 allows us to taste over 320 wines from 78 wineries, including 65 pinot noirs. Heaven! And then on Thursday, I’ll undertake my first trip to Tasmania. Although it’s for work, I plan on staying an additional day or so to do some sightseeing. Chocolate factory. The markets. Maybe head up the coast. I wouldn’t mind going to Port Arthur. So much to see, so little time.
A few months ago I was asked to write a couple of articles for the magazine of the International ABBA Fan Club. A copy of the magazine arrived in the mail this week, and so I thought I’d share them here both for general interest, and as an online archive.
ABBA DAY REPORT
“If you’re in the ABBA Museum and you’re standing near the Ring Ring exhibit, you should answer the phone, as it’s probably going to be Frida” we were told by Ingmarie Halling from the ABBA Museum, soon to open in Stockholm. “And if you see the piano suddenly playing, it’s gonna be Benny doing it remotely”, she added.
The telephone call from Frida (or indeed any member of ABBA, as “they all have the number”, we were told) was inspired by a John Lennon exhibition in New York. When Frida heard that Yoko Ono would sometimes call the telephone there and speak randomly to people visiting the exhibition, she replied instantly that she would love to do that also.
That, and the bit about Benny playing the piano remotely is interesting for two reasons. First, it’s an indication the new museum will have some wonderful attributes, thanks to new technology. Second, that’s it a sign all members of ABBA seem to be fully behind this. Even though Agnetha has said she probably won’t be around for the opening (due to confliciting publicity commitments in the UK), she has indicated she has donated a number of items to the museum.
Ingmarie mentioned how all four members of ABBA had been interviewed for the exhibition, and how she was constantly checking facts to make sure everything was just right. She told us, for example, the lengths she went to trying to find out the real story about the transformation of the famous white piano from its previous brown colouring which has featured in the “archipelago room” of “ABBA World”. “Oh I can’t remember. There were so many pianos”, Frida reportedly told her with a laugh. All four members of ABBA have recorded parts of the audio commentary to accompany the tour.
I have seen ABBAWorld in both Sydney and Melbourne, In Melbourne it was very much about the global story of ABBA (with a lot of Swedish language material); in Sydney it was very much about the story of ABBA in Australia. I didn’t get a real sense of how the exhibition will be curated editorially for its final iteration, but it was clear from the way in which Ingmarie spoke, the project continues to evolve.
You could imagine having spent several years of your life working on this project (and before that many years working with ABBA when they were an active group), Ingmarie would be a little bored with the project. However, she spoke with such passion that it was fairly evident that wasn’t the case. She spoke, for example, about exercising her own personal creativity in the design of some couches which will feature in the exhibition, and how she approached some young designers in Sweden to further develop that idea. “When you visit the exhibition you’ll able to sit and listen to ABBA on couches which look like a stack of vinyl”, she told us. Along the way, Ingmarie also mentioned she has been writing a book that will go with the museum. “It’s the one book about ABBA I might be willing to read”, Benny reportedly said to her.
For me, the appearance by Ingmarie was the most interesting and engaging part of the second (and main day) of the International ABBA Day I attended in Roosendaal. That, and the screening of a number of recent television appearances by ABBA members, notably one from Finnish TV where Bjorn and Benny were asked individually to describe the other. Bjorn has a good sense of humour, but never shows it much, according to Benny. They meet weekly, we were told, mostly to discuss business activities, such as licensing of the songs for movies, but not much outside of that.
Obviously the big “buzz” for this weekend was the forthcoming album release by Agnetha. The two tracks released so far were both sing-along dance-floor fillers, and it was interesting to hear short snippets of Agnetha talking about some of the tracks which will feature on the album. I spoke to a lot of people over the weekend who thought there was a chance we would get to hear the album in full. Unfortunately, we’ll all have to wait for a few more weeks.
For many years I’ve wanted to attend the International ABBA Day. Distance (coming from Australia) is a significant reason why I haven’t, even tough I know many Australians have made the trek previously. One of the main reasons I’ve wanted to attend is to meet some of the people I’ve known about for years and have corresponded with previously. Like many people, though, I’m a little shy. When I wrote this on a blog post to ABBA Village, the following day I had a lot of people come up to me, concerned, asking if I was okay. A couple of others told me they felt the same, and they were pleased I’d written about it. My advice is that if you are thinking about the day at some point in the future, and feel similarly shy in large groups, it’s important to make contact with people ahead of the event so you have some people you can feel comfortable with. I don’t mean that in any kind of mercenary way, it’s just a recognition that some people feel more comfortable in smaller groups than larger, and that if you have a smaller group within that larger group, you might find it a little easier.
Another great way to meet people was through involvement the quiz held on the first night put together by the wonderful Gary Collins. “We should have hung out with you”, I joked to the winner of the quiz. He was an English guy, I think his name was Tony, and he told me he was planning to visit Australia next year. I gave him my card and told him to contact me when he arrived. On the “main day” of the event, there was another quiz where the main prizes included an Agnetha promo signal and a notebook signed by all four members. The winner was a guy called Erik Liebstaedter who obviously knew the answer to the question which I think stumped many (including myself) about which released featured the first “reverse B” logo.
One thing I should mention is how fantastic the bar staff at the “After Party” venue were, as were the double-act who entertained us with some live performances of ABBA songs, including a Dutch language version of “Does Your Mother Know”. “They wrote it themselves, and it was in a Southern Dutch dialect”, Marco Dirven told me, as we walked back to our hotel.
At the end of the second night, a group of us got chatting with a young guy who had worked the night before but who was there the following night just to enjoy himself. “The ABBA Weekend”, he told us “is a great thing for Roosendaal, having so many people come from all parts of the world.” I mentioned to him my theory that, although it seems crazy on the surface to have this day in a small town in The Netherlands, it actually works. “If it was in Stockholm or London or Amsterdam, people would break up at the end of the night and go their separate ways, whereas here everyone sticks together”, I told him.
ABBA MUSEUM PREVIEW
The idea for a permanent ABBA Museum in Stockholm had been around publicly since the end of 2006. The original idea was for the museum to inhabit the space now occupied by the city’s Fotografiska Museet [Photographic Museum]. When that did not prove to be economically viable, the organisers launched a number of short-term exhibitions in a number of countries, including two quite different exhibitions in Melbourne and Sydney, which, of course, I visited.
In Melbourne, the exhibition was very much about the global story of ABBA (with a lot of Swedish language material, and extensive coverage of the post-ABBA solo careers) while in Sydney it was very much about the story of ABBA in Australia. In Stockholm, it is very much the global story once again, though probably not as comprehensively covered as it was in Melbourne. “Melbourne was like the box set, Sydney was like The Best Of ABBA, and Stockholm is like ABBA Gold,” I have said to a number of people.
Along with a couple of hundred others, I was lucky enough to attend a Fan Club preview of the museum ahead of the official opening. It was lovely to see other fans I had met previously, including a few people who, like me, had travelled from Australia. On arrival, we were warmly welcomed by the Chief Executive of ABBA The Museum, Mattias Hansson, and the curator, Ingmarie Halling.
As we made our way around the museum there were, naturally enough, a few bottlenecks as people stopped to take photographs and experienced everything in a chronological order. I am not one for crowds, so I made a quick skim of the early parts and resolved to return later when the crowds had thinned. In all, I must have spent two or three hours in the space, and even then felt like I had only touched the surface.
Of course, you see the costumes, the gold records, the photographs and so on. You also get to see some of the recreated spaces from the story of ABBA, including the offices of Polar Music and the famous island shack in the Stockholm Archipelago where Björn and Benny composed many of their songs. These are lovely spaces, indeed.
There are also some wonderful intimate touches in the new museum. A few weeks ago, speaking at the International ABBA Day (see other article), Ingmarie told us about her design ideas (such as the one for the resting place that looks like a pile of records) as well as the little red telephone that the members could ring. “You want to start a riot?” I asked a friend as we stood near the telephone during the Fan Club preview on Friday. “I have an old fashioned ring tone on my phone. You go over there, stand next to the phone, and when I play the ring tone you answer it,” I joked with him. Of course, we did not do that as it would have been cruel, but it gave us quite a laugh.
Much of the interactivity from the previous ABBAWORLD incarnations is there, too, including a sixty-second electronic ABBA Quiz (I got 12 out of 12 correct), and the ability to sing along with holographic images of ABBA and later download a video of your performance to name a few.
When you know so much about something before actually experiencing it, there is always the risk you will be disappointed. I was not. The museum has clearly been put together with care and an eye for detail. I liked it very much and would recommend it to anyone visiting Stockholm.
Due to the obsessive nature of fandom, ABBA fans can sometimes be very harsh and judgmental. As I walked around, I heard a few complaints about things which were ‘missing’ but, by large, I heard mostly praise from those attending. I overheard Ingmarie say with a smile to a colleague, “It seems to work.”
Rather than concentrate solely on ABBA, the museum has a longer-term focus on the success of Swedish music more generally. Apparently, that is something all members of the band were keen to see when agreeing to support (and invest money in) the initiative.
It will be interesting to see the museum expand over the next few years, as it takes on the broader remit as a celebration of Swedish music more generally. I also think it is great we now have a new ‘home’ for ABBA in Stockholm and can imagine it will become an important location for fans to celebrate major anniversaries, birthdays and so on. After a long time coming, good luck to the museum and all of those who have made it possible.
You know how it is when you see someone semi-famous in public and you think you know them, and then you look over and begin to say “hello”, and then you realise you don’t know them at all Well, you do know them, but not in real life, just from the TV.
The first time this happened to me was with a television newsreader coming out of a lift. “Hi so-and -so” I said, and then he/she responded with “Hi, how are you…?” Later I found out this is a reasonably common experience for people on the television. As they meet lots and lots of people in their jobs and in public occasions, chances are they have met you before and don’t want to seem like a bit of snob if they don’t actually remember you, so they say hi.
Waiting in the queue for check-in for my flight to Beijing, I had a similar experience. There was a woman just behind me in the queue who I recognised and went to say hello. She went to respond. And then I realised I couldn’t remember who she was. But then she looked at me as if to say I recognise you, but I don’t know where from. It was an awfully awkward twenty seconds or so. And so I went back to Twitter and she went back to reading her “Lonely Planet Guide To Mongolia”. As a footnote, we actually have met before. In fact, she did some work for the radio station I used to work for a couple of years ago: it was Mary Moody from Gardening Australia-fame, complete with raffia hat!
There were no other famous people in the queue tonight, or none that I noticed. I did, however, notice the passengers on board this Air China flight to Beijing were a little different to those when I travelled to Beijing last year. Last year there were absolutely no children on board, not one, whereas this time there were quite a few. Maybe I’m wrong, but do parents with young children specifically choose overnight flights so the children will sleep? Maybe that’s the difference?
Come midnight, all the kids were passed out. Well, all except one, a little boy straight behind me with a Swedish father and a Finnish mother. Actually I’m not sure about the Finnish, but she definitely wasn’t speaking Swedish. It sounded Finnish, maybe Estonian. Anyway, I found it fascinating that dad spoke to the child in Swedish, mum spoke to the child in her language, and they spoke to each other in English.
The little boy was restless for most of the flight, with dad constantly asking him to relax and go to sleep. The Swedish phrases for “Go to sleep, Axel”, “Stop it, Axel”, “Lie down, Axel” and the word “No” are so incredibly well-ingrained into my consciousness that I doubt I’ll ever need another Swedish class in my life.
Despite the tears from the little boy, I found it was overall a pretty good flight. While some people find long-distance flying difficult, I quite enjoy it. As always, I was well and truly asleep before take-off, and woke just in time for the evening meal.
Customer service hasn’t improved that much since my Air China flight last year. I swear there were two bottles of white and two bottles of red wine for the whole of economy class. I coughed a little when I took my first sip of the “Red Dragon White Wine” which was far too sweet for a non-desert wine for my tastes. Still, the staff were polite and friendly. And who am I to complain, as the flight (all inclusive) was $1474. $300 less than the cost of my first trip to Europe in 1983.
But anyway, I was in “flight mode”, that wonderful state where all you have to do is eat, sleep, read and watch movies. The movies were a bit of a challenge, though, as they were either crap from America or Chinese movies without subtitles. So for me, it was lots of sleep and quiet contemplation.
That was a good thing, as for a couple of days I’ve been experiencing a little bit of anxiety. With a number of deadlines looming at work – not insurmountable ones, and ones that could have waited, but ones I wanted to achieve – before leaving, I was beginning to think I would run out of time. But by about lunchtime today, I was beginning to feel much better about things. I even had time to go out, grab some lunch, have a haircut and deposit a cheque. After leaving work at about 3.15, I had time to visit a friend and do some computer repairs, come home, vacuum the carpet, talk to some friends of the phone, have a glass of wine and have a shower before heading out to the airport.
After years of listening to Swedish pop via record, CD, downloads and, more recently Youtube, I have now listened, watched, experienced, and danced to it, in its natural environment.
I went out last night to Lino. Although as an Australian I was tempted to refer to it as “lie-no”, of course it’s actually “lee-no”. In researching this trip, I’ve been looking at online, and the photographs of the crowd always seemed to indicate it was a pretty cool place. Maybe too cool for me, I thought. As I entered last night, I walked around for a bit of a reccy. There was an outdoor courtyard playing generic “cool music” where people were smoking. I must write sometime about the Swedes and smoking by the way. There was a room where they were playing generic kinda housey-disco. There was another bar of an indescript nature. But of course, I settled into the “schlager bar”. The bar was a fairly even mixture of men and women out for a good time on a Saturday night. OK maybe two thirds male and one third female, to be honest. They were all boozing up and singing along with the music. The music was loud, by the way, and definitely Swedish. And on the television screens they were playing this year’s Melodifestivalen DVD.
After years of waiting to experience something like this, I actually became a little bit teary for a moment. And then, of course, they played “Crying At The Discoteque” which is one of my favourites from the last ten years. “Oh my God”, I thought this is it… “some absolutely classic Swedish disco in an absolutely classic Swedish disco”. And then…“Mamma Mia” came on. OH MY GOD. At that point I thought I had died and gone to heaven. You know how in Sydney when you go out and ABBA comes on, it can sound a bit “rinky-dinky”, and is usually only played in a “retro” context for a bit of novelty value? Well last night, “Mamma Mia” sounded totally contemporary and totally in context with the rest of the music played.
Oddly enough they sometimes played the same songs over and over again in quick succession, which I thought was strange for a nightclub. The DJ last night, though, clearly LOVED the music he was playing, and it was infectious. The American tourists standing near me were totally overwhelmed by the sight of hundreds of people singing along to pop songs in Swedish. You could see the look of bewilderment on their faces as they walked through to the outdoor bar.
I don’t recall what time I got home, but it was just starting to become daylight, so I guess it was about 3.00am.
I got a little teary also tonight at the Peter Joback and Eva Dahlgren concert at Skansen. I’ve been aware of Peter’s work since he appeared on the original CD for “Kristina fran Duvemala”. Along the way, I’ve picked up three other CDs. I wasn’t, however, really aware of Eva Dahlgren (nor her work), though I knew she was a legendary Swedish “rock chick”. Without the intimate knowledge of their respective back catalogues, I lacked some of the instant familiarity with the work enjoyed by the rest of the audience. Also, because all of the songs were in Swedish (along with all of the patter in between), I sometimes found myself a little confused. I could understand the basic premise of some of the anecdotes, but the punchlines usually went over my head. Although there was a funny bit relating to musical instruments. As an encore, they began a song together playing recorders (flute things) of differing size. When Peter said something along the lines of wishing he had the bigger one, Eva responded along the lines of “of course you do”. I understood that joke perfectly.
I had an excellent seat on the far left-hand side of the second row. I’m reasonably sure Lena Ulvaeus (Bjorn’s wife) and daughters were sitting in the same row, though I’m not sure, as I haven’t seen photographs of them for a while. She did, however, laugh and scratch her nose during an extended anecdote about Bjorn and Benny. But the concert itself? Wow, what a great experience. Peter is a much better singer live than I’ve ever heard captured on CD. He has a lovely voice which can both be gentle and soar, and really has a “joyous” quality to it. He seems to sing well effortlessly. Eva also had a wonderful voice, which really shone when she sang slow and gentle ballads. Most memorable was a song with the recurring line about “I saw you” which was sung beautifully and with passion. The song which made my eyes well up, though, was “Stockholm i Natt”, one of Peter’s recent hit songs. It’s a love song about Stockholm in effect, as it takes you on a journey around the city, with specific mentions of places like Medborgarplatsen and events such as the assasination of Anna Lindh in 2003. And so I’m sitting there, listening to a wonderful song sung by a great performer, about a terrific place that I’ve longed to visit for many years, and I’m looking at both him and the wonderful Swedish summer evening… so of course my eyes welled up. Does life get any better, I thought to myself. And I really loved their third encore, yes third, a song called “Juni, Juli, Augusti”. I know this sounds all very dramatic for those in Europe who can regularly go to Stockholm and have this experience, but for a kid from the bush in Australia, it’s all very exciting indeed.
Afterwards I followed the crowd out and caught the ferry from Djurgarden to Slussen. I couldn’t believe how many people they managed to squeeze on board. Catching the ferry, I was squeezed in tightly between a couple of gay boys and a male/female couple. Needing to steady myself I held on to the railing. And then the woman kinda lent against me and plopped (and rested) her left boob on my hand. I’ve had to totally re-think my attitudes to personal space since arriving in Stockholm, clearly.
As I strolled through the main park in Lismore’s center, I noticed a group of men gathered in the bandstand. Suddenly, one of them shouted out, “Hey brother, be careful of the magpie!” Being someone who grew up with fair hair, I knew all too well about the danger of magpies during this time of year. It seemed like a cruel twist of fate that magpies would always choose to nest in the trees surrounding both my primary school in South Lismore and my high school in Richmond River. After the man shouted his warning, another chimed in, “He’s already gone after three other bald guys today.” We all shared a laugh.
The decision to cross the old railway bridge between North and South Lismore was far riskier than any encounter with a magpie. Despite having crossed it safely numerous times as a child, I realized it may not have been the wisest choice as an adult. However, I couldn’t resist the nostalgia of my childhood memories, as several family members had worked for the railways, and I had accompanied them on many trips over the bridge to check the tracks between Lismore and Bexhill. Unfortunately, those were the days when trains regularly passed through Lismore, and the old bridge was not as well-maintained as it used to be.
It had been over a decade, perhaps even longer, since the last train had passed through Lismore. Feeling confident, I decided to walk across the old railway bridge. However, I had not anticipated the missing sleepers that appeared halfway across, which made my crossing far more tentative and nerve-wracking than I had expected. It was only after finally making it to the other side that I breathed a sigh of relief. As a word of caution to children, I must stress that attempting to cross the bridge as I did is a foolish and dangerous decision. Please, do not follow in my footsteps.
I am currently visiting my family for the weekend, and as many of them are significantly older than I am, I thought it would be a good idea to take a walk while they retired for an afternoon nap. I managed to complete my daily goal of taking 10,000 steps, and then some, by strolling through North Lismore, South Lismore, and the CBD.
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