According the The Guardian, there were hundreds. According to the ABC, there were just over a thousand. According to Fairfax, there were thousands. And according to both News Corp and Alan Jones, there were probably just a “handful of leftie, pinko, greenie commos”.
I don’t know exactly how many people attended tonight’s protest rally at the Sydney Opera House, but there were quite a few, concerned at both the process and the decision to allow the Opera House to allow the projection onto the sails of an advertisement for a forthcoming horse race.
Sydney Harbour BridgeOpera House Alan JonesOpera House BillboardOpera House Protest
Whatever you think of the dabate, it was a lovely spring night in Sydney, a perfect night for heading down to Sydney’s Circular Quay.
Having recently discovered the delights of the “Blue Travel 10”, I’ve been catching buses a lot lately. In preference to walking and trains, I’ve been making use of Sydney’s bus system, which I’ve found to be fairly good by and large. My favourite part about living and working close to the city is that if the first bus that comes along is overly crowded, I can catch another soon afterwards.
Crowded Bus
That wasn’t really the case tonight, though, when I caught a bus from Railway Square to Surry Hills (Cleveland Street). The bus was very crowded and I had miscellaneous bottoms and crotches in my face. It was then, I realised, as a result of having lived in Sydney for over 12 years, my “personal space bubble” has contracted. Having lived most of my life in the country, it would have nearly killed me to be in such close proximity to others. And now it doesn’t worry me anymore…
Though the main street of Wagga Wagga remains just as long—if not seemingly longer—than when I lived here in the 1990s, much has changed.
Back in those days, Wagga was heavily dominated by the defence forces—army, air force, and navy. On Saturday nights, groups of male service personnel would wander the streets, bar-hopping between The Victoria Hotel and The Union, while the farm boys tended to dominate Romano’s. My favourite bar, which also had a distinct gay vibe, was called Number 96 (yes, seriously). It closed many years ago.
Meanwhile, the university and young professional crowd—like me and my friends—would drift between Cocos and Choices, the latter of which also had a strong gay vibe. Cocos was famously where the band The Tourists (who went on to become the Eurythmics) once played. In fact, Wagga was where they wrote their hit song, Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This). Back then, the Eurythmics story was an incredibly well-known piece of local folklore, though I wonder how many people around town today still know or even care about it. https://www.abc.net.au/news/2023-01-21/40-years-eurythmics-sweet-dreams/101867890
Wandering around over the last couple of days, I’ve become acutely aware of just how much the place has transformed.
During my time here, we formed the Riverina Gay and Lesbian Social and Support Group, hosting plenty of parties and events. We even held a gay and lesbian dance party at the Uranquinty Hall. This morning, my friend Sue and I drove out to Uranquinty. I was anxious to revisit the hall, only to discover it had been demolished; a new one had replaced it back in 2010. Yes, 2010—sixteen years ago.
The new Uranquinty Hall, opened in 2010
I’m not sure when another important landmark of mine disappeared, but it must have been more recent, given it’s only been about five years since I last visited Wagga. In 1992, I was living in an apartment and planted a tiny bay tree in the front yard. Over the years, I’ve watched that tree grow. Whenever I returned to town, I would always pop by to take a look and gather a few leaves.
But sometime in the last few years, the tree was chopped down, replaced by a far less impressive floral bush.
The glorious bay tree I planted in 1992, last seen in 2021.
Don’t they realise the fortune they were sitting on? Bay leaves are bloody expensive. I fed an old photograph of the tree into an AI program, and it told me the tree could have likely yielded harvested leaves with a retail value of $2,000 to $3,000.
I have no idea why it was removed, but I suspect the current owners didn’t fully realise the goldmine they had. I’m guessing it just ended up as green waste at the local dump.
On a final note, I see there’s now a cafe on Baylis Street called “Bay Leaf”—named perhaps in memory of the tree I planted all those years ago.
It was a day of “bargain-hunting” for me, as I did a bit of “op-shopping”.
High on my agenda was a new pair of blue jeans.
When you go to most retail outlets, these days, you have a choice of either the skinny-legged variety, or those designed with NYC homies in mind, with the crotch somewhere around your knees.
Another problem for me is that I’m on the short-fat spectrum of human body shape, whereas most jeans are manufactured with the tall-thin body spectrum in mind, it seems these days.
And when it comes to jeans, I’m a little old-fashioned. I like to wear them somewhere between my hips and my waist, and don’t feel the need to expose either my bum-crack nor the lower part of my groin.
I’ve also noted that jeans are outrageously expensive, these days. I mean, they’re a pair of bloody jeans, so why are they priced from $100 upwards?
So at the Salvos store on Broadway today, I picked up a pair of good-looking, high quality, regular jeans for $10 that don’t need any adjustment, and that I’m sure will guarantee me a couple of years of life.
While waiting for the change room to confirm my purchase – there was a woman in there for at least 15 minutes – I also noted a lovely suit for $40. It’s greenish-grey in colour, is made from 100% new wool, and manufactured by Jeff Banks. Overall, it was another bargain as one of the store’s half-price specials, meaning it cost only $20.
So in summary, today, I’ve picked up some nice clothing at very low prices, and have managed to help both the environment and a charity. I feel as though I’m at peace with the world… :)
The road trip from Hobart to Launceston wasn’t nearly as long as I thought it would be. I’ve always had an idea the road trip from the south to the north in Tasmania might have been deceptively lengthy. In the end it took us about two and half hours from start to finish. In a small car we stuck to the speed limit, and because it wasn’t too lengthy, we didn’t stop along the way. The only time we stopped was to take some photographs of the landscape, and in particular, of the wonderful public art that you see from time to time.
Our trip was helped along by my role as “chief audio organiser”. In preparation for the trip, I’d downloaded some music and podcasts to my phone. Musically, I introduced Sue to Swedish jazz singer, Jonas Holmberg who I’ve previously blogged about. For a podcast, I chose Richard Fidler’s interview with Geraldine Doogue. Both of us are long-term fans of Geraldine and so I thought an hour with Gerry would be a good way to pass the time. It’s a really great insight into a legendary Australian broadcaster’s life and work. In particular, I was really fascinated at her candour about when she and her second husband left their respective partners to begin a new life together. I was also fascinated by the way in which she spoke about her Catholic beliefs.
An almost treeless, gentle-sloping hill that you find so much in country Australia, snapped earlier today roughly half-way between Hobart and Launceston.
Co-incidentally, we’re staying in what was a Presentation Sisters convent up until 2003. The woman on reception today told us that when it got down to just two sisters, they found they weren’t able to cope any more. The present day hotel accommodation was the result of a renovation in 2005. “I’ll bet the sisters didn’t have the modern bathrooms”, I joked when she told us the story. The accommodation is really nice. The bathrooms are modern. You can open the windows and enjoy the fresh air. And it’s quiet. Really quiet. Both Sue and I enjoyed a really wonderful sleep last night (lots of dreams) before waking reasonably late.
Public art on the road between Hobart and Launceston
While Sue visited some family, I went off and spent the day at the Cataract Gorge.
Later this afternoon, we wandered around town, looking at the Boag’s Brewery (both concluding their mid 90s advertising campaigns were very sexist), at arts and crafts at The Mill, and thinking of where to have tonight’s evening mill. Last night we went to a pub and tonight we’re heading to a Thai place.
A key criteria for both of us is not so much the meal itself, but to get a sense of the people and place we’re visiting. So far, we’ve concluded Launceston is a little bit like Lismore, a little bit like Wagga, and other similarly-sized country towns we’ve come to know very well in our lives.
“Southies don’t run, mate”. Jack is quoted in today’s Sydney Morning Herald feature about the catastrophic Lismore floods, four months ago.
The heartwrenching article was written by Heath Gilmore, and the beautiful photograph of Jack and Sam was taken by Jacklyn Wagner.
The awesome thing about both journalists is they’re “locals”. They’re not “fly-in/fly-out” journalists only interested in a headline. Heath was born and raised in Lismore, and his family still lives locally. Jacklyn is a long-term local. Both care deeply about the town, its future, and the people they’ve spoken to. Both have told me covering the story has been an emotional experience.
Jack and Sam in the Sydney Morning Herald Pic: Jacklyn WagnerJack in today’s “Sydney Morning Herald” Pic: Jacklyn Wagner
Other family members, Karran, Willow, Shyloh, and Ryan were all photographed by Jacklyn who showed considerable care as she worked with my family members (and many others) on the photographs.
The article says state member for Lismore, Janelle Saffin is working with Jacklyn on an exhibition of photographs to show at the NSW Parliament, and there’s hope a book will be published to raise money and awareness. I’m hoping I’ll be in Sydney for the opening, to see the other photographs. I suspect it will be an emotional experience, as the stories are recounted.
Pat and Jack are “moving home” this weekend, and the article talks about how he and many others want to say, despite the urgings of other people they should pack up and move.
Sitting on the bare boards of the kitchen floor as they spoke, I was one of those who nodded, holding back some tears.
In the midst of all the tears from Lismore, this flood rescue story in today’s Sydney Morning Herald is giving locals a lot of laughs. I love the way Nikki told the story so clearly, and how Heath captured it.
You remember how “in the olden days” you were limited by the number of photographs you could take on a roll of film? It was generally 12, 24 or 36. I remember when a roll of 36 film was expensive to buy, and even more expensive to process. As a child, I would generally only be able to afford 12, and occasionally 24. 36 seemed like such a luxury to a young boy from the country.
Fast forward to 2017, and today I went on a photowalk where we were instructed to take no more than 36 shots. “Only 36?”, I thought to myself, adding “This will be a challenge since I regularly take 80 to 100 shots in a single day”. The Local Guides Meetup Sydney Photowalk was one of a number of similar walks held around the world today with the same common instruction.
Today, a group of about a dozen wandered from Milson’s Point, to Cockatoo Island, to Darling Harbour, Barrangaroo, Circular Quay, and many points in between. It was a fun day, hanging out with a couple of blokes I already knew, but also getting to meet some new people I would never have otherwise had the chance to meet.
I’d have to be honest and say most of the people on our photowalk had no intention of sticking to the 36 rule. Many of us had participated previously in photowalks, and many of us were “snap happy” to say the least. Even so, it was good to have in our mind the idea that you should think more carefully about the photographs, rather than take hundreds, as is so easy in the days of digital photography.
Stop in from High Riser. Well I town doesn’t have much for political unrest, but I can think a few issue we should take to the street.
If you have time stop in for a cup of coffee
Stop in from High Riser. Well I town doesn’t have much for political unrest, but I can think a few issue we should take to the street.
If you have time stop in for a cup of coffee
I only found out about this afterward – else I would have also been down there torch in hand. I love a good protest
What a revolting creature Alan Jones is! And our spineless politicians no better!