With news today of furtther job losses in the airline industry in Australia, and a prediction there will not be many international flights for at least another year, I’ve begun to think about (and save money for) where I might visit next. There are lots of places I would like to go. Vietnam, Korea. But of course, Stockholm is also one of them. So in lieu of international travel, I’ve been checking out some music videos (of songs which I really like) which highlight Stockholm. There’s a range of musical styles. There’s also a bit of Swedish noir going on in the clips.
Meet me in Gamla Stan (The Old Town)
This song by Peter Jöback is a wonderful testament to Stockholm and the midnight sun. “Is there anything as beautiful as Stockholm at night?”, Peter asks. The lyrics of the song also reflect on significant locations in recent history, such as where Anna Lindh, the Swedish politician was killed; and the location where Clark Olofsson (who was present at the robbery) which led to the phrase “Stockholm Syndrome” .
I absolutely love this song: it’s soulful. It also has a terrific video clip shot around inner city parts of Stockholm. I actually recognise a couple of the well-known faces of the city.
This is a wonderful combination of Swedish rap and pop, with a rif from “All Along The Watchtower”. The lyric asks the question, “Is it so hard to be happy?”, and features lots of “real life” characters from Stockholm.
Also from Veronica Maggio is this terrific song and one-shot video clip shot on Södermalm (the south island). Once a very working class area, it’s now “hipster central”. This clip is a joy to watch.
Roxette was an awesome band from the 80s / 90s / 00s, who had some great international hits. But you would have never known they were Swedish, unless you looked closely at their video clips, many of which featured Stockholm as a backdrop. This is a favourite, as it features quite a few scenes in the Old Town, and there’s a glorious scene where Marie jumps into Lake Mälaren and sings with ducks!
And finally this song by Tove Lo, which is all about the experiences of many young women, with scenes in bars and around the Stockholm subway. We’ve all been there!
I think pretty much everyone in the room laughed in recognition, as Gene Sherman told the story about the promise she and her husband had made to each other. As she noted they had been married forty-seven years and were a family that “kept promises”, she went on to say they had agreed and promised to stop purchasing art. As they approach their 70s, they realised they had close to 900 works at various locations around Sydney, and that was probably enough for them to handle. Visiting Hong Kong, however, she came across the work “Chinese Bible” by Yang Zhichao, declaring it today “the greatest work in our collection”.
Chinese Bible by Yang Zhichao
And what a purchase! A collection of about 3,000 personal diaries from the time of China’s Cultural Revolution, currently on display at Sydney’s Sherman Gallery. Dr Geremie Barme from the Australian National University (who opened today’s exhibition) said the diary entries range from shopping lists to “careful thoughts”. He also noted it was often practiced during those years for people to burn their diaries, mindful they might fall into the hands of the authorities.
Chinese Bible by Yang Zhichao
As you enter the gallery, you’re immediately overwhelmed by the scale of the artwork. It took three days to lay them out carefully in order on specially prepared plinths, we were told today. And then you look more closely at the works, the beautiful covers, and wonder what’s inside. Twenty-five of the diaries have been translated into English, which you can read on computers at the back of the gallery.
Chinese Bible by Yang Zhichao
For me, this blog is like a diary, though nowhere as personal as something I might have written by hand and without thinking there would be a broader audience, preferring to keep my “darker thoughts” to myself. As I wandered home I thought about my own childhood diaries where I did just that. Sadly, they were washed away in the big Lismore flood of the late 1980s.
It’s Sunday night and it’s raining cats and dogs in Sydney. Curiously enough, the weather is in stark contrast to that which I’ve enjoyed in Hobart over the last few days, which has left me with a slight case of sunburn. The last week has been really terrific, having seen an interesting movie, having been to a New Zealand wine show and having visited Tasmania.
Since I last wrote, quite a bit has happened. For example, last Tuesday night, Colin and I went to see The Lawless Heart at Dendy Opera Quays. It was one of those quintessential Sydney moments as I watched the bridge, sipped some wine and ate some cheese ahead of the screening. Gosh it’s nice to be back! The Lawless Heart starts – and then re-starts in a “Sliding Doors” kind of way – at the wake of Stuart, a restauranteur in a small town who is only ever seen on screen through his home movies at the beginning and ending of the film. I spent two thirds of the movie incredibly frustrated, wondering where this was all leading. As my friend, Colin later commented, “I thought for a second we were going to get EVERYONE’s interpretation of what occured after the funeral.” And then, just as I was on the verge of slashing my wrists in frustration, it happened… the purpose for the movie was revealed. It was then I realised this was a film about grief in its many forms. I wouldn’t go out of my way to see this film, but I still think it’s worth seeing… but hang in there, as you may find it frustrating for a while.
And then on Wednesday night, Damien and I went to the “Taste Of New Zealand Wine Fair” at the Four Seasons in Sydney. Curiously enough, since NZ is well known for its sauvignon blanc, most people were avoiding this particular variety, a fact confirmed, with humour, by a number of the wine makers. Unlike the last time that Damo and I went to this fair, there was nothing spectacular, although there were some good wines. The wine fair, however, confirmed that I have expensive tastes!
My favourite was a Seresin Pinot Noir Marlborough 2005 which was excellent… very smooth. I also really enjoyed the te Kairanga Reserve Pinot Noir Martinborough 2003 which, although young, was very tasty. There was only one sparkling that I tasted… the Nautilus Estate Cuvee Marlborough NV Brut… which had a floury taste about it. No, I don’t mean flowery… I mean floury as in the taste of flour. And then of course, we slaw Cloudy Bay. Inspired by the famous quotes about “being over the Cloudy Bay experience”, we approached with some trepidation. Unfortunately for the wine-snob in both of us, Cloudy Bay produces some good wines. A particular favourite was the Cloudy Bay Tekoko Marlborough 2002 which had a slight buttery quality.
And then on Thursday morning I travelled to Hobart. I really loved Hobart.
To get to the bathroom at The Flinders Inn, you need to grab a key from behind the counter, go out the door, and walk a few metres down the street.
The walk is worth it, though, as the bathroom tiles are gorgeous. They were the source of much discussion over dinner, as we tried to remember how long burnt orange was in fashion for. And even though it’s quite some time since that was the case, we all agreed it it was a great colour at the time, and that this modern take, bathroom tile wise, was absolutely gorgeous.
We all agreed the food was excellent also, by the way. For the main, I had the most sublime pork belly with a cauliflower puree and caramelised apples. And for desert, two of us enjoyed the chocolate gateau, cinnamon bavarois with lavender salt. The addition of the lavender salt had both of us raving. I’m not sure what the others had, as I was too involved in my own meal :) The French-style menu is full of wonderful things like goats cheese, duck leg confit, and so on.
Bathroom tiles at the Flinders Inn
Located next door to the Captain Cook Hotel – hello Scott, hello Mark – on Flinders Street, the entrance to the Flinders Inn is rather unimposing. In fact, as I turned the handle to open the front door, I wasn’t entirely sure I wasn’t entering someone’s house. Perhaps because I had my back to the other patrons – only a few people on a wet night – I also never felt like it was unnecessarily noisy or crowded, even though it’s quite small.
Overall it was a lovely setting for my friend Colin’s birthday, and a place I will definitely return to at some point.
It was a lovely way to spend the end of my day which was, otherwise, a little stressful. I’ve got a fair bit on my plate at the moment, and, by the end of the day I was sick to death of listening to people talk, which is a bit of an occupational hazard for the industry in which I work :)
In the hour or so I had at home between work and dinner, I sat in absolute silence. On Twitter, I engaged, though, in a silent conversation with a colleague who also agreed there’s nothing quite like the bliss of those first five minutes of absolute silence when you arrive home at the end of the day.
As we left the restaurant I noticed in the mirror I’d spent the entire day with my buttons done up incorrectly. “Why didn’t any of you tell me?”, I asked my friends to a non-plussed smile in reply.
On the way home tonight, I spotted another campaign poster for the federal election. As I noted yesterday, campaign posters for candidates in the seat of Sydney are few and far on the ground so far, although strictly speaking this wasn’t one for Sydney as it was a poster in support of Lee Rhiannon’s Senate-bid for the Greens.
As I sit and contemplate my calendar for the rest of the week, and going into next week, I’ve got a bit of a blank canvas. In fact, there’s nothing planned until the end of next week.
Work-wise things will continue to be busy. In the midst of it all, I’m attending a couple of talks by some really interesting people – Jay Rosen and Genevieve Bell – which I’m anticipating as I’m sure they’re going to be absolutely fascinating and mind expanding.
Today, I had the opportunity to share my experiences over the past year on 774 ABC Radio Melbourne (and Regional Victoria) with Kirsten Diprose. We discussed the evolution of prosthetic technology as part of a broader, hour-long conversation that also featured other guests. You can listen to the full broadcast [here].
Here’s a transcript from the program which has been “tidied up” for spelling, brevity, clarity etc using Google Gemini (AI), and I haven’t really checked it, so there may be some errors.
Kirsten: On the ABC Listen app, your smart speaker and on AM radio. This is the Conversation Hour on ABC Radio Melbourne and Victoria. Let’s bring James O’Brien into the conversation. Peter Hawkins is still with us. But James, you’re actually from the ABC yourself, your radio planning manager based in Sydney. Welcome to the program.
James: Thank you.
Kirsten: Now, I suppose your story and experience is quite different from Peter because you’re, I suppose, someone who has recently only needed a prosthetic.
James: That’s right. Like Peter, I’m 58 years of age, but I’ve only had a prosthetic limb now on my right leg, the lower right leg for about 12 months. I was travelling overseas with some friends. I got a cut foot on a beach somewhere, came back. It all went terribly wrong. Some diabetes contributed to it as well. And I woke up out of a coma with part of my leg removed.
Kirsten: You’ve just skipped over that like, you know, it was going down to the shops and buying some milk.
James: Look, honestly, my niece was with me when I came out of the coma and she said, look, Jim, I’ve got something to tell you. It’s really upsetting, blah, blah, blah. And I was just pleased to be alive, to be honest. And early in the piece, I received a phone call from an organisation called Limbs for Life, which is actually based in Melbourne, which is a peer support organisation of people who are also amputees or using prosthetics. And look, that phone call from a guy called Clay made a huge difference to my attitude. He had a very similar circumstance to mine. And apparently, it is pretty common for lots of blokes of a certain age not to look after their health and to find themselves in this sort of position. So having that sort of peer support very early in the piece just made me feel good about it all.
Kirsten: That’s fantastic to hear that there’s such a proactive group that so obviously the hospital must connect you with Limbs for Life.
James: Yeah, the hospital that I was in connected me with Limbs for Life and they’re a national organisation. They’re all over the countryside, actually based in Melbourne, set up, I think, by a woman called Melissa Noonan initially. And, you know, it’s there’s a Facebook group and we share stories and anecdotes and there’s really nothing quite like to actually talk to someone else in a very similar position. There’s a woman I work with here at the ABC, Liz Wright. Liz is a Paralympic swimmer. And when I was in hospital, she reached out to me, medal-winning, I should emphasise too. She reached out to me, said, Hi, James, you know, I work at the ABC, blah, blah, blah. I’ve seen what you’ve gone through. And she was actually born with different length limbs, but she still wears prosthetics. And again, just having that sort of peer support or someone you could, you know, you could have these very short conversations and know exactly what’s going through. So, for example, I still get a bit tired and I said, I get tired. She goes, yeah, I get tired too. And it’s because we’re doing a lot more exercise and there’s more strain and those sort of things. And I’m not sure, Peter, if it’s still fatigue is an issue for you still after even though it’s almost 60 years for you.
Peter: Not really. But then I don’t remember what it was like before. So I’ve got very little to compare it to. But not really. I think it’s just, you know, just wait another 50 years and you’ll be fine.
Kirsten: So, James, what sort of prosthetic do you have?
James: Well, actually, I’ve still got my interim. It’s called the interim leg and the federal government funds each of the states to provide an interim leg. So in Victoria, the program is called the Victorian, the Victorian Artificial Limb Program. And basically, they receive some money from the federal government is administered through the hospitals. And what they do is they give you an initial one to start out with because your leg will shrink over the next couple of years. And like Peter mentioned, a plaster of Paris, you know, I was I had the fitting in the hospital where they, you know, got out the plaster and wrapped a creoe paper around it and all those sorts of things. So I’ve still got the initial interim leg. Last Wednesday, I had a fitting for my NDIS funded limb and it was a bit painful in the first couple of days, didn’t quite fit. So I went back to the company who looked after me and on Wednesday and they shaved a few things off it and made it fit better. And so what will happen now is we’ll see how it goes for a couple more weeks and then they’ll probably do the final fabrication of my new limb. And I’m also hopefully getting a wet leg as well, also funded by the NDIS. So I can go to the beach.
Kirsten: What does that mean? Does that mean like a swimming leg?
James: Not so much a swimming leg, but something I can wear in the shower or something I can go to the beach at and not worry about it rusting, basically.
Kirsten: What’s the NDIS one that you’re getting fitted with? What’s it made out of?
James: Look, I don’t really know, actually. I’m not really I’m listening to Peter talking all about the technology and I don’t really know.I think it’s carbon fibre, I think. And I think the wet leg has got some titanium there, which is rust resistant. Look, I’m not really great on the technology. All I know is it’s has made a huge difference to my life because, you know, for the first few months of last year after this happened, I was still getting around in a wheelchair and hopping around. And that was really hard and really tiring. So when I actually got the limb to wear, it made a huge difference. I still had to wear, like I said, go with the wheelchair for a while and crutches for a while. But now I can pretty much walk around without any additional support aside from the limb. The only thing I had to keep an eye out for is people kind of don’t notice it. And sometimes, you know, I’ve had people sort of push me out of the way. I did actually fall over once. There was a young person who sort of didn’t see that, you know, I still had some mobility issues and actually pushed me over accidentally and then felt mortified. And then also things like getting on trams. Some people just don’t even see it. So there’ll be people sitting in the disability seats. And I have to ask, you know, can you get up, please? Because I need to sit down.
Peter: And you’re right about the people being mortified. I went to something on the weekend and a young lady didn’t notice and accidentally shoved me from behind. And I stumbled. And then she realised and she felt awful. And you think, oh, but that’s not your fault.
James: No, absolutely. And you just want to make somebody realise, well, look, you were just unfortunate. You happened to pick the wrong person. You know, don’t feel so bad about it. We’re OK. So I do get cross with people who sit there looking at their mobile phones for the entire trip in the disability seats. And I think, just look up and see if someone else needs a seat more than you.
Kirsten: Yes, that is annoying. And I mean, it’s not just disabled people, those seats are reserved for, it’s people that, you know, eight months pregnant and that sort of thing. And it’s really selfish. It’s interesting, isn’t it? I mean, James, as someone who has only recently acquired a disability, have you changed the way that you see the world or are you more cognisant of things like this?
James: Absolutely. I mean, one of the interesting things is early in the piece, too, some friends didn’t know how to cope because there was quite a significant chance I might have had brain damage. And I did find that they were speaking to me a little more slowly. And I’ve even had colleagues at work speak to me in a much slower manner. And I go, it’s actually, it’s not my brain, it’s the leg. So that’s one of the things I’ve noticed. I’m much more aware of being on public transport in particular and the needs of other people. That has made a huge difference to me. And it was so interesting at the Disability Expo a couple of months ago and I volunteered at that sort of meeting and greeting people. And I am just so, I mean, I was always pretty aware of some of the issues of people with disability. But let me tell you, I’m much more aware of them now.
Kirsten : James O’Brien, thank you so much for joining us. I understand that you are blogging now about your experience. Yeah. Where can people find your blog? I
James : Just search for James O’Brien Amputee will probably find it. It’s a WordPress blog and I’ve been writing about my experiences all the way through. And I’ve tried to be as honest as possible.
I’ve had some amazing experiences with public transport over the last few months. I’ve been to modern cities. I’ve been to old cities. I’ve been to highly developed western economics. I’ve been to emerging former communist states. I’ve been to “super cities” in Asia. And guess what they all had? An integrated, effective public transport system. In most cases, the trains/trams ran regularly up until midnight, and all you had to do was buy a daily, weekly or monthly ticket and everything was covered.
Singapore: An unbelievably good system with regular trains and it’s cheap.
Stockholm Metro at night
Stockholm: For my first few days there I used the Stockholm Card which included free public transport within the greater Stockholm area, covering buses, trains, metro, and even a couple of ferries. After returning from Narvik, I bought a monthly ticket costing 690 Kr, about $120 Australian. I used it every day several times, especially on the metro system, with regular services every couple of minutes right up until about 1 o’clock in the morning. And, significantly, they’ve managed to build a metro system on a geographically large city on many islands…
Tallin: I didn’t use public transport there much because the city was quite small. On the occasions I did catch some buses or trams, I used my Tallin Card without any worry.
Riga: I also didn’t use public transport there much because I mostly stayed in a small area.
Prague Metro
Prague: Unbelievable! I bought a 5 day pass for the entire public transport system which cost about $30. To get to and from where I was staying I had to catch a brief metro trip (services every few minutes), followed by two stops on a tram. I used it all the time and got around the city very easily. Not an ugly advertisement in sight and they had artistic designs throughout. Oh, and they didn’t have ticket barriers per se, which meant the population got on and off trains quickly and without congestion.
Amsterdam: I didn’t use public transport much, because everything was reasonably close by.
Berlin: I caught a couple of trains and a couple of buses. Fantastic.
London: The tube is quite amazing with lots of regular services. A bit overcrowded for my liking. And probably quite expensive. But still, it worked.
Paris Metro
Paris: The metro system is over 100 years old, is cheap (a daily ticket was 5.80 Euros), and easy to get around. Quite spectacular.
Hong Kong: As with Singapore, an unbelievably good system with regular trains and it’s cheap.
Sydney: Tonight it’s going to take me 35 minutes to get to Bondi. I’ll need to walk 10 minutes from my place to the station to catch a train, and then I need to catch a bus and it’s going cost me about $6.00 each way.
