“Did I see you having lunch today at The Tin Shed at Lithgow?”, came the surpising instant message via Facebook. It’s been a while since my former colleague and I have seen each other, and so when I walked past, she said she wasn’t sure if it was me or not. A few seconds later, and we were seated on the back verandah, and so the moment had passed.
Lunch at The Tin Shed was very good, by the way. Located in what appeared to be an old community hall, or maybe a factory, it was a pretty buzzy, friendly place for lunch. There were lots of family groups (school holidays) as well as locals and travellers like ourselves. A few hours after leaving Sydney, and not quite at our destination (Orange), it was a terrific place to stop, relax, and catch our breaths. Sue had an mushroom omlette and I had a rocket and pear salad with poached chicken.
It was a lovely co-incidence for the first day of our two week holiday in Western NSW. “Do you think we’ll run into anyone we know on this trip?”. I asked Sue. “Quite possibly”, she replied, mentioning a family friend who was also on a trip around Western NSW. I mentioned that I’d also seen on Facebook that a distant family member was also on tour. Since there are still significant travel restrictions within Australia, and since overseas travel is off the agenda, domestic travel is pretty popular right now.
Before moving to Sydney, I lived for almost a decade “west of the divide”, including at Bourke, Renmark and Wagga. Many of the places we’re visiting I’ve been to before, though its been ten or twenty years in the case of some. For Sue, many of these locations are totally new to her. Hopefully, we’ve been able to put together an itinerary which combines elements of a much-needed break with some great cultural experiences.
After leaving Lithgow, we made our way to Bathurst, where Sue was keen to take at look at the campus for Charles Sturt University. And of course, you can’t visit Bathurst without a visit to Mount Panorma.
As children, we both remembered watching the “Bathurst 500” as an all-day event on the television. Back in the days of Peter Brock, Allan Moffatt and so on, it was one of those things you did back then. Although the motor race won’t be going ahead this year, there were still quite a few tourists taking in the views, and no doubt, enjoying the experience of driving the track, albeit at much slower speeds.
Our destination for the day was Orange, where we plan to do a bit of sight-seeing, including a bit of food and wine tourism. There are lots of wineries in the area, and there’s a highly recommended bakery.
I’m also a fan of taking photographs, and while Sue visited a friends’ parents, I visited the Pinnacle Lookout.
You can enjoy a terific 360 view from the top of The Pinnacle Lookout, located about 15 minutes drive from the centre of Orange.
When I arrived at the top there was an older man (maybe in his late 60s), and separately a group of half a dozen older women (maybe in their late 60s). The reason I point out their ages is that it was quite a steep walk to the top. There were moments heading up when I became a little puffed. “It’s much easier going down than it was coming up”, one of the women commented.
There weren’t a lot of people at the lookout. It was a lovely experience to be there at sunset, which I’d highly recommend. Complete with bag from ALDI!Sunset at Mount Canobolas, as viewed from The Pinnacle Lookout, near Orange.
With a bit of free time on my hands over the last few weeks, I’ve been using a website to colourize some old family photographs I’d only ever seen previously in black and white. http://playback.fm/colorize-photo
Though, I can definitely pick there’s an algorythm at work (they all look a little bit “the same”), I’m still happy with what the website offers for free and without much effort.
And what they offer is a new level of detail of the people involved, which would otherwise be the lost in the grey background.
Anyway, here’s a few of them, family pics from the 1940s through to the early 1970s.
Wedding Photograph of Albert Bernard O’Brien and Bertha Ann Dunn, 1940s.Gloria O’Brien / Pepper (second from the right) taken at a nightclub in Lismore in the 1960s. I loved the black and white version. I love the colour version even more. Scowls, cigarettes, too cool for school! What were they drinking? Someone has suggested it ws “Porphyry Pearl”. A bit before my time – does that sound right?Gloria O’Brien (and me), Margaret O’Brien (and “Little Margaret”) in “the shed” at Kyogle Street, South Lismore. Looks like it was about Christmas 1966. Two or three years old? I’m not sure.“The O’Brien Girls” (Gloria, Patsy, Tootsie and Nancy), along with “Little Margaret” preparing for Nancy’s wedding in 1973.
There’s a really heart-breaking moment in one of the films by Omar Chowdhury, currently showing at Sydney’s 4A Gallery. The film shows a young child (maybe 7-10 years old), begging, crawling along a busy street in Bangladesh. He obviously has a physical disability of some kind and so his movement is painfully slow and deliberate. As he crawls along, people drop coins in a bucket of money he’s pushing ahead of him.
Then all of a sudden there’s a commotion, and the crowd begins to part, as a large group of men come running towards him. As he makes his way towards the side of the footpath, a woman comes out from nowhere and takes away the bucket of money, putting it to the side for him. I still wonder if she was a kind stranger, or perhaps his mother. As the crowd comes through, our attention becomes focussed on them. He disappears from the film.
At first I couldn’t work out what the crowd coming down the street was all about. After thinking it might have been a protest, I soon realised there was a religious element to it all, as the crowd made their way indoors. I’ve never been to an Islamic religious service, so I don’t know if it was typical of what occurs. I noticed, however, it seemed to have some of the elements and theatricality of Christian Pentecostal services. :)
I was the only one at the exhibition when I visited today, and so it was really great to have the time and space to sit in the dark and to really take in this and other films. Other films by Chowdhury were more “day to day”: there’s a woman plucking some of the hairs from her forehead, there’s a couple of boys fooling around on a bike/cart. Cinematically, the films were visually really impressive, but they also had the informality of a home video. The shot in the religious service was wonderful, because the proximity of the camera allowed you to feel simultaneously both a participant and an observer.
I spent an hour or so looking at the works today, but I’m sure to go back and spend a few more hours there, as there’s lots more to see and absorb. The exhibition closes on August 2.
“Can’t the cows milk themselves?”, I asked my friend Paul The Dairy and Goat Farmer on Twitter this morning.
It was early – five-thirty – and I’d just woken up and, pleasingly, it was still dark. For the last few weeks it’s well and truly been daylight by then which has been a bit of a shock to the system.
Apparently the cows CAN milk themselves, Paul told me, “but that causes angst with goats who want the same ‘rights’…and we all know what happened in Animal Farm.”, he went on to say.
Even though my dad was born and raised on a dairy farm, and even though most of my ancestry comes “off the land” – mostly pigs and dairy cattle – I grew up as a “townie”. And with the exception of Uncle Barney who had a farm at Goonengerry (near Mullumbimby), it’s been a long time since anyone in my family had to worry about milking the cows or goats. Thus, I don’t really understand the day to day practicalities of daylight saving and what it means for Paul.
Me? I’m just happy to have a few extra hours of daylight at the end of the day.
In fact, if I had my way, I would dramatically change our current configuration of time-zones. Over the weekend, we moved from three time-zones in Australia to five. In my job that adds an incredible layer of complexity, as some parts of Australia take ABC Radio programs in delay (of up to three hours), and other times, they take them live.
I was chatting with some people in Queensland last night on Twitter about how confusing it can be for them, as the television stations do the same. One of the people I was chatting with noted…
We’ve already missed #antm which Fox8 showed “live” into Qld @ 1830. We’ll tape +2 @ 2030. At least #Qanda earlier now on 24.
And then you have the situation where South Australia is on a 30-minute delay, and the Northern Territory is one a 90-minute delay.
If I was the Prime Minister of Australia, I would declare we had only three time zones in Australia, all equally spaced with a one-hour difference, as in the United States. Or maybe even we could adopt the Chinese model with just one time zone? It would make my life easier, all Australians could watch and listen to the television and radio in “real time” and I am sure it would save the economy millions of dollars. But in the meantime, we have daylight saving in NSW and that suits me fine, especially as it means there’s an extra hour of daylight when I come home.
Today it meant I was able to go for a look at the mural in a nearby park. In the last couple of days I’ve received a couple of letters from City of Sydney about their plans to give the mural a bit of a make-over. I’m a bit of a fan of public art, so I think this is a terrific idea.
Although I have lived in the area for several years, I hadn’t really noticed the mural was in such dire need of a make-over until I went for a look this afternoon. And, of course, if we didn’t have daylight saving I wouldn’t have known that, because I would be trying to look at in the dark :)
“How do you feel about the prospect of going home?” my physiotherapist asked me today. I told her I felt quite confident. “I’m in a much better position now than I was here eighteen months ago when I had my amputation and spent four months in the hospital”, I added.
This time, it’s only been two weeks since my right hip fracture and replacement. The rehabilitation has been focused on the fact that I also have an amputation, which makes the typical hip replacement rehabilitation more complicated due to the additional pressure on my stump. That’s why it’s been great being back at Sacred Heart where I had the amputation, and where the medical staff know me, and have experience in this type of rehabilitation.
I understand that around 50 or 60,000 people in Australia have hip replacements each year, and a similar number have knee replacements. Many also have shoulder replacements. It’s common practice to encourage people to get up and be active as soon as possible after these procedures. This is not just to free up hospital resources, but also because it’s beneficial for recovery.
Over the past few days, I’ve been working on moving around more independently. Yesterday, for the first time, I was able to go to the bathroom without needing to ask for assistance with a commode.
I’ve progressed from two crutches to one, and today I even walked a little without any.
When I go home, likely on Thursday, I’ll still need crutches, especially when going out. However, I might be able to manage with just one crutch, which offers greater independence.
Overall, I feel much more physically prepared to go home now than I did a couple of years ago. As a result of my amputation, home is pretty well set up for rehabilitation, with things like a raised toilet cover and a stool on which to sit in the shower.
The past few days have been relatively quiet. I had visitors on Sunday. A friend and I went to lunch at the nearby Beecham Hotel, which was very good. Later, another friend visited me at the hospital. I was quite tired upon returning, so we lay down and chatted. I fell asleep, and then, hilariously, when I woke up, he was also asleep. It was a typical Sunday afternoon nap.
I’ve been taking it easy, watching YouTube, listening to music, and just getting on with life and recovery.
This is one I prepared earlier... Guess what I did today? Or more correctly, guess what I didn’t do?
I forgot my ex’s birthday.
If we lived on other sides of the world and hated each other, you wouldn’t think that was such a problem.
But we’ve known each other for about 11 years (Mardi Gras 98), and we’ve maintained a good friendship after I was dumped. (I won’t beat around the bush…)
And I have a pretty good diary system. And I use the Facebook birthday reminder.
But somehow I managed to forget to ring, text or do anything in fact.
I don’t think I’ll ever eat white bread again. As much as I’ve read about it, and as much as I know instinctively it’s not a good idea to consume highly processed food, I still eat white bread on a daily basis for two simple reasons: white bread freezes and toasts well. Over breakfast, though, I was easily convinced I should never eat white bread again. The chef in the kitchen where I’m staying makes his own varieties of bread, biscuits and croissants on a daily basis. As we chatted this morning, he spoke with passion about the importance of fresh bread, made with a variety of grains, over the highly processed bread available at supermarkets.
Fresh made bread
After breakfast, I chatted via Skype with my family back in Lismore. Although they’ve known for a few months I’ve been planning to visit South Africa, I don’t think the reality set in until I actually arrived earlier in the week. When I chatted with Pat on the phone I could hear concern in her voice. “You’re safe?” she said to me on a couple of occasions during our brief conversation. She was obviously drawing upon all of the background knowledge she had of South Africa from what she had seen on television over the years. The unrest. The poverty. Those kind of things. So I decided the best way to show them I was “okay” and staying in a nice “middle class” part of Johannesburg was to do a Skype call with them. As I showed them the lovely green surroundings of Melville, I could see they were re-assured.
I hadn’t realised it until the other day that Melville was considered to be the “bohemian” centre of Johannesburg. As well as referring to an area that’s home to musicians, artists and the like, I also discovered Melville is considered the “gay centre” of Johannesburg. I knew this with certainty the other day when I I popped into a bar about 100m from where I’m staying. “There’s a lot of men in here”, I thought to myself with a curious recognition. As I sat at the bar, I looked over a saw a pile of magazines which turned out to be South Africa’s gay newspaper. As I thumbed through it, I recognised the universality of these kind of magazines – gays are increasingly pretty much the same all over the world it seems. Later, as I left the bar, I crossed the street and looked back to see a rainbow flag flying atop the building. As I looked around I saw a few other shops and bars with rainbow flags. Having failed to notice this earlier, I realised my “gaydar” is in need of repair.
I spent the day travelling with an internet friend, a friend of his, and a couple of their children. Although they’ve all lived in Johannesburg all of their lives, they tend to live, work, and socialise not far from their homes in the more affluent part of town called Sandton. “I can’t remember the last time I came into the city”, he said as we made our way on a bus through the central parts of Johannesburg. They’ve recently introduced a “hop on/hop off” bus, and so we though that would be a good way to take a look around the city. For me, it was all new territory, but I also got the impression much of the bus trip was an eye-opener for the locals I was travelling with also.
I’ve never been one for those “hop on/hop off” bus trips, largely based on my own experience from seeing them travel around Sydney. I could never understand why you would use them when the public transport system in Sydney is reasonably good. In contrast, the public transport system in Johannesburg isn’t as good. Although there’s a commuter trains which transports ten of thousands of people from Soweto each day, and there’s a new train system to the Northern Suburbs which is part tram, part subway, I’ve discovered the rest of the public transport system is fairly insufficient for the needs of a city of at least 3-million people. So despite my initial apprehension, I thought the “hop on/hop off” bus was a good way to see a lot of the city at a reasonable price.
We started at the Apartheid Museum, travelled into the city, and then had lunch at The World Of Beer. “This sounds like something out of The Simpsons”, I said at one point. But at R65 (about $7) entry (which included three beers), it turned out to be a very interesting exploration of South African history. The bit I enjoyed most was a short video which described the traditional role of a woman in many African communities as the creator of a type of beer made from sorghum. After watching the video, a traditional container of the beer was passed around for tasting. By tradition, men were supposed to drink first, and you were supposed to be squatted. Most people passed the container onto the next person, so I was one of the first to taste. Conclusion? I guess I’m much more of a lager kind of boy. Lunch at the World Of Beer was excellent, with lots of “traditional” South African meals.
Another really interesting part of the tour for me was Ghandi Square. I kinda knew Ghandi had spent some of his life living in Durban and working as a lawyer. I didn’t know, however, it was his experiences in South Africa which resulted in his politicisation. after he was refused access to a number of buildings and modes of transportation due to his race. There’s a statue of Ghandi wearing long-flowing lawyer robes right in the middle of the square, appearing as a much younger man in contrast to the more common images of him.
Melville, Johannesburg
After six or so hours hopping on and off the bus, visiting various parts of the city, it was time to head home and relax. Tomorrow, I’m heading off to a game park outside Johannesburg, and then on Monday, I’m visiting Soweto. Busy times ahead.
P.S. I’ll update this post later with more photographs. At the moment (and I’m not sure why), I’m finding it difficult to transfer photographs from my camera to my laptop.
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I’ve never seen the Bathurst circuit driven at slow speed. It is very picturesque.
I’ve never seen the Bathurst circuit driven at slow speed. It is very picturesque.