“Thanks for coming and keeping the story alive”, I said to Ian and Lee at the end of their broadcast of ABC Radio’s “Australia All Over” from Coraki. “By and large people in Sydney have forgotten about the floods, and their eyes glaze over when I mention them”, I added.
Coraki is a town of about 1,000 people about half an hour’s drive from Lismore. Nowhere nearly as badly damaged by the floods as Lismore was, but the town was still heavily impacted, along with other neighbouring towns such as Woodburn.
Behind the scenes crew for Australia All Over at CorakiInterview with Lismore legend, Arthur John Maloney
Though the program has its critics, “Australia All Over” remains an important program for ABC Radio, reaching a broad audience, and bringing the nation “together” on a Sunday morning.
“Macca” is at his best when he’s with a live audience. I’m sure his “showbiz appeal” goes back to his days as a musician. Later, he worked as a journalist, before taking over “Australia All Over”.
I first saw Macca before a live audience when he came to Renmark, my first ABC station. And today he was down the road from home, keeping the Northern Rivers flood stories alive, which made me very happy.
At the end of the show, Australia All Over at CorakiRuth Woodhams (2LM Breakfast) and John James Maloney (River FM, formerly 2NCR). I worked at both, so it was a lovely collaborative moment to chat with them, mostly about the flood. John’s father is Arthur, photographed above.
“You always have great exhibitions, but this is the best in a good while”, I told Aaron Seeto, the curator at Sydney’s 4A Gallery. Their current exhibition, “Actions for Tomorrow” is the first solo exhibition in Australia of Yangjiang Group and it’s fantastic.
At the heart of the exhibition is the work of three artists, each with their own speciality who work collaboratively. My own personal favourite is the artist who works with wax, dripping wax over clothing. As you enter the gallery’s ground floor, it’s almost as if you’re entering a clothing store. The surprise is the clothing is covered in candle wax. Here are some photographs from today’s exhibition launch.
Actions for tomorrow at 4A GalleryActions for tomorrow at 4A GalleryActions for tomorrow at 4A GalleryActions for tomorrow at 4A GalleryActions for tomorrow at 4A GalleryActions for tomorrow at 4A Gallery
Until my friend Patrick messaged me the other week, asking if I wanted to go see Robyn perform live in Sydney, I had only a vague knowledge of the Swedish pop star. Intrigued, I took the opportunity to visit her MySpace page and listen to a few of her songs, which I found to be really quite impressive. It was during this time that I recalled having heard her song “With Every Heartbeat” on the radio at some point earlier. Additionally, I had an insightful conversation with my half-Swedish colleague, Carrie, who shared some interesting details about Robyn’s history as a Swedish child star.
Having attended her live performance, I can now confidently say that I have become a devoted fan of Robyn. The experience was truly captivating, and her talent and stage presence left a lasting impression on me.
Robyn at Oxford Art Factory, Sydney Australia
As we stepped into the uber-cool Oxford Art Factory, formerly the old Central Station Records on Oxford Street, Darlinghurst, excitement and curiosity filled the air. We couldn’t help but wonder who else would be interested in witnessing the performance of a relatively unknown (at least in Australia) Swedish pop star. “Oh, look over there! A girl proudly sporting a Robyn t-shirt,” Patrick pointed out. “And there’s a guy wearing a Sverige t-shirt,” I added with a smile. As we scanned the room, we noticed a group of young-looking kids who seemed to be gearing up for their HSC exams, alongside a few cheerful gay boys and even a rather eccentric-looking emo-girl.
The diversity of the crowd caught our attention, and we couldn’t help but appreciate the eclectic mix of people who had gathered for this event. Eager to immerse ourselves fully, we secured a spot right up front on the dance floor, near the stage, ready to experience the magic of the evening.
Robyn (with Kleerup) at Oxford Art Factory, Sydney Australia
As I stood there, the thought crossed my mind about how I might appear amidst a sea of much younger faces. At almost forty-two, balding, and surrounded by people who could easily be my children (except for Sam and Pat), I couldn’t help but wonder if I looked a bit out of place. It’s not hard to imagine that others might perceive me as a letchy old bloke, a drug dealer, or even an undercover police officer on a drug bust, if I were someone else.
As I made my way in, I recalled one of the bouncers giving me a questioning look, but to my relief, the crowd turned out to be incredibly warm and friendly. I felt welcomed, and that initial concern quickly subsided. Of course, I made sure to keep my “old man dancing” at a level that felt appropriate, but overall, the experience was enjoyable and free from any discomfort. The atmosphere was so inviting that age seemed to become irrelevant, and I found myself simply enjoying the music and the vibrant energy of the night.
No, this was a crowd of dedicated Robyn fans. With one or two exceptions, we were surrounded by people who knew every single word of every single song. And as Robyn sang, they sang along with her in a really joyous celebration of her music.
In response, she graced the stage with an extraordinary display of energy, enthusiasm, and passion, leaving me in awe. Her vocals were nothing short of exceptional, and her dance moves were captivating, making it evident that she was giving her all for the audience. What impressed me even more was how she effortlessly connected with the crowd, locking eyes with numerous people, making each one of us feel a personal connection to her performance.
Not to be overshadowed, her band members showcased an astounding level of skill and dedication, playing their instruments with precision and unwavering enthusiasm. The synergy between the artist and her band was evident, creating a mesmerizing musical experience.
To put it simply, this live gig stands as one of the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing. The sheer talent and genuine passion that filled the venue made it an unforgettable night for all of us fortunate enough to be there.
One of the most memorable moments of the night was when an elderly Swedish-looking couple emerged from the backstage. “Ah, she’s brought her mum and dad with her,” I mentioned to Pat with a smile. Seeing them there added another layer of endearment to the already captivating performance. It was heartwarming to witness her sharing the spotlight with her parents, and it spoke volumes about her character, making it evident that she was not only immensely talented but also a genuinely nice person. Pat and I both agreed that her thoughtfulness and connection to her family only added to the admiration we had for her as an artist and as a person.
“This is the best Larb I’ve ever had in my life”, a colleague said straight-faced as we sat and enjoyed lunch at Spice I Am today.
It was one of the rare occasions (sadly) where we made it out of the office together for lunch, and we ended up at Spice I am because the other place we had planned to visit was actually closed. I’ve been to Spice I Am on quite a few occasions before this, and so recommended it as a “second choice” being just around the corner from where we planned.
I had a pork dish, and as you can see, another colleague had a rather delicious prawn dish. “The prawns are very fresh”, she told us.
Every other time I’ve been to Spice I Am we’ve always had to wait in a queue. But being lunchtime instead of dinner, the restaurant was reasonably empty. Popular still, but not bursting at the seams, and so we ended up with a nice table. The service was friendly, but the meals came out slightly delayed. We COULD have shared, but were more interest in having our own individual meals today. Overall, a good experience.
I learned more today about green tea than I have my entire life. Our day started with a visit to a nearby village of Mei Jia Wu, where they seem to grow nothing but tea. Amongst the things I learned included: how the different size of tea leaves produce different flavours; how the spring harvest is considered the best; how you can usually get five cups of green tea using the same leaves, how you should drink black tea in the morning, and how you should drink green tea about half an hour AFTER eating your lunch and dinner to assist in fat absorption.
Mei Jia Wu Tea Village/梅家坞
Until the “big sell” and “shopping frenzy” came at the end of the demonstration I was inclined to say this was the most interesting visit we had made to a factory/retail outlet on the trip. I’m not one for jewellery and silk, and I’m generally not one for shopping (unlike many others on the tour), but I really enjoyed visiting the village, and in particular, taking a walk out into the tea plantations themselves.
Mei Jia Wu Tea Village/梅家坞
The major part of the day involved a three-hour (or so) bus trip to Shanghai where I slept on and off and listened to some music and to podcasts.
We arrived with just enough time to spend an hour or so walking around the Shanghai Museum which I enjoyed very much. “Some of you might not like museums” our tour guide Helen said at one point, to which I softly responded with a smile, “Some of us don’t like shopping”. The two most interesting exhibitions for me were the one which featured some of the traditional clothing of some the ethnic minorities, and the one which featured some fantastic sculptures.
Shanghai MuseumShanghai MuseumShanghai Museum
Throughout the tour, there have been a few optional extras to the programs where Sue and I have been the odd ones out. While almost everyone else attended, neither of us had much of an interest, for example, in attending light and sound shows by the bloke responsible for the Beijing Olympics Opening Ceremony. Tonight I was the only one in our group who elected not to go to the acrobatics show. Sue went along, and I’m sure she enjoyed it, but, as I explained to everyone, “acrobatics are not my thing, I would have preferred a few more hours at the museum”.
So I came to the hotel early and booked in. Wow, what a fantastic room I have. It’s something like 60 square metres, has fantastic views, has a fantastic bathroom (with separate spaces for shower and toilet, and with a TV over the bathtub), and is probably the best hotel accommodation I’ve stayed in.
Realising the comfort level, I thought to myself, “I’m in the night”. I did wander out for a while though to buy a shirt, I had a swim, and paid a brief visit to a bar called “Eddy’s Bar” which was nice, and where I got chatting to a couple of locals.
One of the blokes I chatted to was called “Kevin” who told me he was moving to Australia later in the year and that he’d just “passed the test”. One of the interesting things about young Chinese men and women is their adoption of “Western Names”. That is, they “choose” a name to be known by. I didn’t dare ask if he named himself after our former Mandarin-speaking Prime Minister. I thought it was a question best left unasked.
“These will bring passion and romance into your life”, the bloke behind the counter said to me as I handed over my planned purchase. “That was the general idea”, I told him and we smiled at each other.
It was towards the end of an “Historical and Cultural Tour” of Chinatown, co-inciding with Chinese New Year Celebrations in Sydney.
I love a good walking tour, and when I saw this one advertised a few weeks ago, I signed up immediately. Interestingly, I recognised two couples from some previous history walks I’ve undertaken in Sydney.
Of those attending, I was probably about mid-range in the age department, and possibly knew a little bit more about Chinatown than many of the others attending judging by some of the questions asked. More than general interest in cultural activities and history, I also spend a fair bit of time in Chinatown due to its proximity to where I live and work. I eat at least one meal each week in Chinatown.
But even so, there are lots of things I didn’t know about, and lots of things I’ve passed without paying too much attention to them.
I’ve never really looked at the big archways at either end of Chinatown before. I’ve never noticed the wording about how it’s about “Chinese and Australian Friendship”. I’ve also never really closely looked at some of the ornamentation on the archways and on neighbouring buildings. “They’re more of the style of Northern China” our tour guide, an older Chinese man told us, noting the incline of the rooftops allowed rain and snow to fall to the gutters easily.
Our guide was a man in his 70s, I’d guess, who had lots of great anecdotal stories of Chinatown in the past. For example, he spoke about going to an opium den at a very young age with his father. And he had a great knowledge of some of the different families and family businesses of Chinatown, and who did what to whom and so on.
But as we walked around and looked at various buildings, I felt a certain sadness: it sounded like the Chinatown of today is not as interesting as it used to be. Our guide mentioned Chinatown is getting a bit of a make-over in the next three or four years, and that’s probably a good thing, because as I walked around, I also noticed the place could do with a good lick of paint.
Aside from the architecture and the history, it was also interesting to do a few things I wouldn’t normally do: such as visit the Chinese Ginseng Centre of Herbs, and go into the depths of the kitchen of The Emperor’s Garden Chinese Restaurant, one of my favourite places for a plate of roast pork.
And it was great to look a little more closely at things I’d normally pass quickly by, such as the Golden Tree (a great meeting place in Chinatown) and the offices of the Chinese Nationalist Party, the KMT.
The tour lasted two and a half hours. And at the end of it all, Colin and I went out for some yum cha at Hingara, which I now know is a restaurant which has been in Dixon Street (an incorrect spelling apparently, it should be Dickson) for over forty years (though now with different owners).
We chatted about a few things including the gorgeous looking peaches selling in Paddy’s Markets at the moment. Although it’s mostly thought Paddy’s is an Irish reference, by the way, there’s an alternative reading that it related to people from the rice paddys, we were told today. So at the end of yum cha, we popped in there, where I bought some peaches and apricots.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” asked the lifeguard at the Cook & Phillip Pool, noticing me as I surveyed the surroundings.
Before undergoing a lower leg amputation last year, I used to regularly visit the pool for exercise and relaxation. Yesterday marked my return to the pool, an experience that came with a certain level of apprehension.
Concerns about my swimming ability, particularly in regards to the “kicking” motion, and uncertainties about getting in and out of the pool, prompted me to explore “learn to swim classes” tailored for individuals with similar disabilities. I haven’t really found anything suitable yet, though I’m sure it exists.
What struck me was the lifeguard’s open-ended offer for assistance, without making assumptions about my needs. While standing there, I considered the process of entering and exiting the pool, determining the best way to handle my prosthetic limb.
Expressing my uncertainty about my upper body strength, I told the lifeguard that assistance might be required to exit the pool. She reassured me about the availability of wheelchairs and encouraged me to tell her of any additional needs.
Entering the pool proved manageable, and I carefully removed my prosthetic limb at the water’s edge. Notably, I opted for the hydrotherapy pool, acknowledging its suitability for my current post-amputation phase.
The sensation of water enveloping both legs was a delightful return to the familiar. Although my attempt at freestyle presented coordination challenges, backstroke emerged as a more comfortable option, potentially serving as a starting point for my swimming journey.
An hour in the pool, including time on the hydrotherapy jets, provided a mix of therapeutic and unfamiliar experiences, especially the massage on my stump.
Despite initial uncertainties about upper body strength, I successfully pulled myself out of the pool. Rather than attempting to reattach my prosthetic limb poolside, I opted to navigate back to the nearby seats in a manner similar to a baby’s movements as they’re learning to walk by sliding themselves along on their bum.
Dressing and undressing took more time than before, because I had to do it seated. Showers were skipped, given the absence of a “wet leg” prosthetic.
In recent months, a newfound friendship with a gold-medal-winning Paralympian colleague, who also uses prosthetics, has added a positive dimension to my journey. While I may not aim for Paralympic qualification, I eagerly anticipate engaging in further conversations with her as I reintegrate swimming into my routine for exercise and relaxation.
Oh G-d, I’m glad I’m not the only one. Macca infuriates me as well, but I also listen. Not to the whole show, but from whenever I wake up and turn on the wireless. He seems a bit too ‘right wing’ for my liking, but I’ve just come to that opinion from the few odd things I’ve heard him say over the years. He also dithers a lot and that annoys me more.
Having said that, I think the concept of the program is wonderful and really enjoy it when someone else, such as Warwick Long, takes over temporarily.
He drives me mad…but… I listen.
I guess that is Kel with him.
Oh G-d, I’m glad I’m not the only one. Macca infuriates me as well, but I also listen. Not to the whole show, but from whenever I wake up and turn on the wireless. He seems a bit too ‘right wing’ for my liking, but I’ve just come to that opinion from the few odd things I’ve heard him say over the years. He also dithers a lot and that annoys me more.
Having said that, I think the concept of the program is wonderful and really enjoy it when someone else, such as Warwick Long, takes over temporarily.
Yes, that’s her.