For the three decades I’ve lived in this area, my local shopping centre in Surry Hills was affectionately, or perhaps ironically, known as the “Murder Mall.” I, however, preferred to call it the “Methadone Mall.”
But as gentrification swept through the neighborhood, so too did an upscale makeover for our mall. Now, it boasts a Harris Farm, new upmarket restaurants, and a massive Coles, shedding its old, grungier vibe.
I found myself heading back there for lunch today with former colleagues, a cherished annual tradition. Our destination was Olympus, a Greek restaurant that has generated considerable buzz over the past year. Everyone I’d spoken to raved about it, so I suggested it for our special catch-up.
As we settled in, the conversation naturally turned to our lives, our careers, and, hilariously, our impending or recently passed 60th birthdays. I playfully asked, “So, what pills are we all on?” This led to a lighthearted, yet surprisingly bonding, discussion about our current medications. Even our fittest friend, we discovered, is now on a few prescriptions! It was a lovely, relatable moment with colleagues I’d worked very closely with for years.
Olympus certainly lived up to its hype. The space itself is striking, designed to accommodate 240 people without feeling crowded. Unlike many modern restaurants that cram in too many tables, Olympus offers ample room, allowing for easy conversation without needing to shout. A truly unique feature is the large tree in the center of the dining area and an overhead opening window. While it was closed due to winter, this million-dollar window, as our waiter informed us, floods the space with natural light, making it easy to read menus – a welcome change from dimly lit establishments.
Olympus in Surry Hills. Pic by Jeremy
We sampled several dishes, all excellent. Here are a few of them.
Prawns at Olympus, Surry HillsTrout at Olympus, Surry HillsLamb at Olympus, Surry Hills.
It was a genuinely great meal, and surprisingly affordable given the quality. Only two of us opted for a glass of wine each, so the bill wasn’t astronomical – a far cry from the indulgent, office-ditching lunches of the 80s! But it’s also not a cheap meal, either. I’d highly recommend Olympus, though be prepared for a higher-end experience if you choose to truly indulge.
Beyond the Mall: Bingo, ABBA, and Back to Reality
Also this week, I enjoyed a different kind of outing, attending “Bingay” at the Beresford Hotel.” This fun event was a fundraiser for the AIDS Council of New South Wales, set to a fantastic ABBA soundtrack. One of the drag kings even channeled an ABBA member in their costume, adding to the entertainment. It was a joy to reconnect with friends who’d attended previous events and meet new people, making for a truly enjoyable evening.
Wearing my “ABBA – The Album” shirt at Bingay!
Aside from these outings, it’s been a week of settling back into work and life in Sydney after my break in Lismore. I had a funny moment this morning when a colleague asked about my weekend plans, and I realized I couldn’t instantly answer. I’m back to that stage where plans get added to the diary and sometimes completely forgotten until they’re upon me! Such is life right now.
It’s Friday night (almost Saturday morning) and I’ve just been hanging around at home tonight, watching television and tidying the house. TV was great tonight: I watched “Pleasantville”. I remember vividly Sue mentioned the movie a few years ago saying how fantastic it was, and I thought “how bizarre”. I’ve seen the movie several times now and I love it.
In case you’re unaware of the plot, here’s a blurb I found on the internet.
David Wagner (Tobey Maguire) is a Nineties kid with a Fifties addiction. He’s hooked on reruns of a classic television show called “Pleasantville,” set in a simple place where everyone is swell and perky, “confrontation” is a dirty word and life is pleasingly pleasant.
Addicted to this utopian world, David immerses himself in “Pleasantville” as an innocent escape from the trouble-plagued real world that he must share with his ultra-hip, totally popular twin sister, Jennifer (Reese Witherspoon). But one evening, life takes a bizarre twist when a peculiar repairman (Don Knotts) gives him a strange remote control, which zaps David and his sister straight into Pleasantville.
Trapped in a radically different dimension of sight and sound, David and Jennifer find themselves cast as members of the TV family, the Parkers. David has become “Bud” and Jennifer has been transformed into “Mary Sue,” and they are surrounded by the black and white suburbia that once kept David glued to the tube for hours.
It doesn’t take long to discover that there’s no news, weather or sports when you’re living in a black and white paradise where everything is always…pleasant. Books have no words, the high school basketball team always wins, and nobody ever questions why things are always so perfect. Initially, David revels in the prozac-like haze that has gripped Pleasantville. But when Jennifer brings her Nineties-like attitude into this unsuspecting era of blandness, things start to happen in living color.
All the repressed desires of life in the Fifties begin to boil up through the people of Pleasantville, changing their lives in strange and wonderful ways that none of them had even dared to dream of, until they were visited by two kids from the real world.
I also videotaped the movie “Under The Sun”, a Swedish movie which features Linda Ulvaeus, the daughter of Bjorn and Agnetha from ABBA. I’ll watch it tomorrow.
Also went out for drinks with ABBAMAILERS on Wednesday night.
Aside from that… nothing else to report. Sorry, it’s been a boring week… but that’s life in Pleasantville, isn’t it?
Over the weekend, I had the pleasure of speaking with Shona Muckert for The Limb Shift, my podcast dedicated to the lived experience of limb loss and limb difference. We ended up talking for much longer than planned. “I love to chat,” she joked, and I’m so glad we did.
I’m really looking forward to sharing our full discussion later this year, once the podcast officially debuts on Apple, Spotify, and YouTube during October, co-inciding with Amputee Awareness Week in Australia. In the meantime, I wanted to share a glimpse into Shona’s journey and some of the heartfelt wisdom she shared with me.
For Shona Muckert, life at 25 was physically active, and full of adventure. She was “living the dream” in France, working and skiing in the Alps after a stint in Edinburgh, enjoying what she describes as “the time of my life on the ski fields”. But when her beloved granddad grew terminally ill back in Australia, she made the choice to cut her season two weeks short.
“I felt like I wanted to be there, you know, not just for my grandparents, but for my family.”
Just weeks after returning home to be with her family, disaster struck on a road near Murgon, a small town in Queensland. Driving home at night after dropping off a friend, the back wheels of her vehicle caught loose gravel around a bend, sending the car rolling four or five times into a paddock.
Trapped in the wreckage overnight for nearly twelve hours before being spotted by a passerby, Shona suffered severe crush injuries. When she finally reached the hospital and awoke in the ICU, a nurse broke the catastrophic news: both of her legs had to be amputated—her right below the knee, and her left high above the knee. At the time, doctors delivered a grim outlook, warning her, “you probably will never walk again”.
Shona’s spirit kicked in. During her early recovery in the burns ward, when a deflating hospital bed left her stranded without support, she demanded a change. The nurse unit manager gave her a dose of “tough love,” telling her: “Right, if we’re going to change this, then you need to learn to transfer and you need to learn toget up out of that bed.” Shona embraced the challenge.
“I’m clearly very stubborn and pig-headed… I said, ‘Righty o, let’s go with this'”.
Determined not to let her life grind to a halt, Shona returned to work and began driving again just two months after her accident. “I think it was the independence for me,” she explains. “I just wanted to be independent again… I just wasn’t prepared to let it keep me down”.
The internal adjustment was a slow process. “It took three years to sort of fully accept my disabled life,” Shona shares. She wrestled with PTSD, phantom pain, deep thoughts, and public stares, often crying herself to sleep while hiding her struggle from her family. To rebuild her identity, she committed to eight years of counselling with a therapist to navigate grief, relationships, and motherhood.
A pivotal turning point arrived ten years post-accident when Shona discovered Osseointegration—a revolutionary surgery where a titanium implant is inserted directly into the bone. Supported by a massive community fundraising effort in her hometown, she underwent the procedure with surgeon Dr Munjed Al Muderis.
Learning to walk again on a high-tech Genium robotic knee was an intense, joyous rehabilitation process. During two weeks at Eden Rehab, Shona found a supportive community and newfound hope.
“I was in a totally different headspace and oh my gosh, I just laughed. I laughed all the time. Like, I remember saying to someone, ‘I want to stay here longer. This is so much fun.'”
When she cleared a physical obstacle in the gym for the first time, “the whole gym erupted into yahooing and clapping… it was just the best feeling because, you know, they were just all so supportive and it was just fun”.
Beyond her physical rehabilitation, Shona found an outlet in sport, which she credits for keeping her going through her darkest times. After taking up wheelchair basketball and wheelchair tennis, she discovered outrigger canoeing—a passion she has pursued for over 14 years. Her dedication culminated in elite success at the 2016 World Sprint Titles, where she competed as both a V1 paddler and part of an OC6 crew, securing five gold medals.
She has since evolved from a paddler to a steerer, describing the water as a place where she can experience beauty and freedom. Her involvement in the sport has become a way to pay it forward:
“I’ve introduced people to outrigging… it’s just a beautiful sport with lots of different age brackets”.
Out on the water, Shona Muckert
Shona has also gathered profound life lessons that she hopes will guide others navigating the aftermath of life-altering injuries, like amputation. Central to her advice is the importance of emotional honesty; she strongly urges people to grant themselves grace, noting,
“Allow yourself to feel what you’re feeling in the moment and know that there’s no right or wrong way to feel or act, or know what’s right or what’s wrong”. This emotional work, she explains, is inseparable from the work of building a new life.
She also emphasizes the power of language in shaping how one is perceived and how one perceives oneself. Rather than minimizing her contributions, she has learned to assert her value: “I don’t say I’m just an admin officer. I say I’m an admin officer… because my job is just as important as everybody else’s jobs”.
This extends to her interactions with the public. When faced with the curiosity of children, Shona refuses to deflect. Instead, she chooses transparency:
“I now try to think the only way that these kids are going to learn how to understand and treat people with disabilities… is to actually speak to them and say, ‘Hey, this is what’s happened’… I try to have that positive sort of spin on it now where I’m hoping I’m educating the next generation”.
Shona with her son, Quinn
Ultimately, for Shona, the journey is about cultivating true community and belonging. By surrounding herself with supportive friends and sports teammates who see her simply as Shona, she has found the peace she once sought.
“A lot of my friends, they don’t see me as someone who’s in a wheelchair,” she says warmly. “They see me as Shona, and half the time they forget about the wheelchair”.
Today, more than two decades after her accident, Shona leads a full life, balancing her work at Caloundra Hospital with her responsibilities as a mother to her son, Quinn. She views her experience through a lens of profound gratitude and humour.
“I definitely think I feel that everything in life happens for a reason. Sometimes I haven’t quite worked out what those reasons are. I tell people that I’m still here because I have lots of people to annoy… I don’t need anything grand or fancy… I just love doing what I’m doing.”
For now, she finds joy in the simple things: walking her dog, Millie, paddling on the water, and continuing to navigate her “disabled life” with the same stubborn, humorous, and resilient spirit that has carried her for over two decades.
Winter has arrived exactly on time in Sydney, with cold, wet and rainy conditions for much of the day. Although things cleared up later in the day, I still spent much of the day inside watching television, listening to radio, listening to music, and watching internet stuff. With that background, here’s one of my all time favourite Youtube clips, featuring Frida from ABBA’s first ever television appearance. In 1967, she was married, had two children, and sang on a small-scale in the town of Eskilstuna about 90 minutes from Stockholm. It’s a very sweet clip.
As Kate and I walked around the streets of Chippendale, we noticed posters featuring artwork by Luke Temby.
I noticed another one tonight as I came home from dinner at Emad’s on Cleveland Street.
The art group I belong to has bought a couple of works by Temby, and he has created this crazy kind of universe called Cupco. It was interesting to see his works out and about on the streets, as well as in the galleries.
Luke Temby Adam and Eve Felt 1960mmx3200mm Catalogue no.1 from exhibition –Cupco is god:2007 Damien Minton 18/12/07
Kate was into town for a couple of exhibitions, including one we saw together at Seymour Centre which focussed on Sydney experimental and electronic music of the early 1980s, as part of Sydney Festival. It was so-so.
But it was good to see Kate.
It was also a lovely dinner at Emad’s by the way, along with Colin and a couple of his friends. Colin used to work with the husband, and now, retired, he and his wife are having a whale of a time travelling the world “while they still can”.
We had just been to see “The Fabulous Frances Faye” downstairs at Belvoir Street.
I’d first heard about the show maybe six months ago when a cabaret-type I know came back from Adelaide raving about the show.
In that instance, Yani was the audience participation in the show, as was I tonight.
Part of the set from the Fabulous Frances Faye at Belvoir Street
Prior to this, I’d heard the name Frances Faye before, but had no recognition of who she was.
Her connection with Australia, it seems, was a strong one, as she played here on many occasions, including her final performances on stage and television before she died.
The closest modern parallel, in some ways, would be Bette Midler. Not in a “Wind Beneath My Wings” sense, but in the sense of Bette’s cabaret act, combining strong showmanship, excellent musicianship, and a lovely bawdiness. And, back in 1960s Australia, she was apparently, popular with the gays.
The guy doing the show, Nick Christo, performs as Frances, though not in a frock. Dressed in a suit, he performs “a show” as Frances, seeking to capture the essence of her work, rather than engage in the art of female impersonation.
And he’s bloody fantastic. He’s a wonderful performer, who sings well, is comfortable in his body as he moves throughout the show, and who effortlessly takes you into the world of 1960s cabaret, epitomised by the likes of clubs like Chequers.
Towards the end, like Yani, I became the subject of a bit of audience participation as he sang and then sat on my lap.
It wasn’t an especially well-attended show, with an audience of maybe 40 downstairs at Belvoir. The audience was, however, enthusiastic, and there was a great buzz in the room. As everyone left there were smiles all round.
It was a wonderful show that’s opened my eyes to the work of the fabulous Frances Faye.
Sometimes you can forget how beautiful Sydney is at this time of the year. That is, until you take a walk along the coastline near Bondi, Bronte and Tamarama. The sandstone cliffs, the blue-green colour of the water, and the gentleness of the walk are both relaxing and hypnotic. The walk wasn’t overly busy, though, as most people were down on the beach.
My reason for a visit today wasn’t to relax: I went in search of the gravestone of one of my ancestors, Ann Hoare. I’ve known for a number of years she was buried at Waverley Cemetery under the name Ann Phibbs, but until today have never really had the motivation to go looking for the grave. Others, like Joye Walsh have been there before and have taken photographs of the gravesite which are available online. But with a revitalised interest in family history lately, I figured I’d pay a visit to find the grave myself to help fill in this part of the story in my own mind.
Elizabeth Hore and Ann Phibbs photo from 1865 thanks to Elizabeth Friederich
Granny Hoare, as I choose to call her from now on, was only fourteen years old when she married William Rixon, the eldest son of early convicts James Rixon and Amelia Goodwin in 1826. For many years after their marriage, William and Ann lived and farmed in various parts of what is now Western Sydney, around places like Marsfield, Campbelltown, Airds and Appin. From farming, they diversified into hotels, being the manager or licensee of a number of hotels in a number of locations between Wollongong and Appin.
Author Mick Roberts has documented their interests oin his website…
William Rixon licensed The Travellers Rest along the old coach road, between Mount Keira and Appin at the Wollongong court house during 1842. The location was known as ‘Stringy Bark’ or on some maps as ‘Lachlan Forest’. Licensing records state Rixon’s inn was located 18 miles (29 kilomtres) from Wollongong and 10 miles (17 kilomtres) from Appin. The license was described as a “wine and beer license” and not a “publican’s License” which indicates the inn was merely a refreshment stop for travellers and offered no accommodation.
Documents reveal the inn was under construction along the Appin to Mt Keira Road in May 1839. However, no records of the inn receiving a license can be found for another three years.
Lady Franklin reveals in her journal, while travelling from Appin to Wollongong and crossing the Cataract River, that she ascended the other side of Broughton’s Pass, and seen a hut and stable “where a man and horses for mail are”. She states the coach’s horses were changed there, while further along the track, the horses were stationed at a clearing where an inn was under construction. This building was no doubt The Travellers Rest and although Rixon moved onto another public house later that year, the inn probably continued in operation for several years as an unlicensed wayside stop for coaches and travellers until 1848 when Mt Keira was replaced by Rixon’s Pass at Woonona as the preferred mail route over the escarpment.
William Rixon became the licensee of the Union Revived Hotel at Appin later in 1842. The sandstone inn, still in existence as a private home, is located opposite Saint Bede’s Roman Catholic Church, on the main road through Appin village. Appin had two licensed inns at this time – the Union Revived Hotel and the Bourke Hotel – both had been in existence since 1826. Appin was the first large settlement reached after leaving Wollongong for Sydney.
The Appin Inn, later renamed the Union Revived and licensed for a while by one of my ancestors, William Rixon
William Rixon died on May 28, 1847 at Campbelltown and is buried at St Peter’s Church of England. After William’s death, Ann married twice more. On June 11, 1848, she married Owen Dunlaghan who died in January 1851. A year later, on January 24, 1852, Ann married William Henry Phibbs with whom she had one child, William Jordan Phibbs. Phibbs died on November 24, 1863. Ann lived on for many years after that, including at 362 Castlereagh Street, Sydney on the east side between Goulburn and Campbell Street. At the time of her death on August 8, 1895, she was living at “Adderborough” at 19 Denison St Woollahra, Sydney.
Finding her grave was no easy task. The office at Waverley Cemetery where they keep all the records is closed on a Sunday. So I had a copy of the photograph taken by Joye Walsh on my phone and walked around looking for it. Interestingly, it does quite stand out amongst the other graves, as it’s a reasonably simple crucifix, although it is quite large. Many of the other headstones are very very simple, or equally quite ornate. The best way to locate it, if you’re interested in finding it, is to go along the coastal walk, and when you see the main road which roughly equally divides the cemetery, take a walk up there about 100 metres. When you come to the next main “intersection”, take a left and you’ll see her grave there.
Ann enjoys wonderful views, and I reckon if she ever chose to sell, she could make a fortune :)
It was a lovely day and I’m so pleased I found the grave. It’s interesting for me and my sense of identity – as someone raised in the country, and having had ancestors in the country for several generations – to explore this more “urban” part of my family history.
As I walked through the streets of Paddington tonight I looked up at the sky in awe. It wasn’t one of those spectacular red, orange, pink sunsets you would normally describe as stunning. Instead, the clouds in the sky were whispy, almost powdery. It was a sight to behold.
I was in Paddington to help a friend install his new phone.
After a long day at work, I caught the bus late this afternoon. I love catching the bus. Unlike the train where people are always a little conversational, people on buses seem to love a chat. And they love chatting on their phones, in particular.
The woman behind me tonight was obviously trying to organise a meeting with a friend. “Where are you?”, the friend must have asked. “I’m just passing the um…. the ahhhh…. the…. I’m about five minutes away”, she replied as she struggled to name Victoria Barracks, the home of the Australian Army in Sydney.
Her point of reference? “I could get off at the Paddington Inn or the…. ” (as she recalled the names of the different pub stops along the way).
After fixing my friend’s phone, I came home via Oxford Street and stopped in for a bite to eat at Churra’s Brazilian Barbecue. Located the near The Balkan and the new Greek BBQ restaurant, it’s located in what is emerging as a bit of a BBQ strip on Oxford Street. I had a tasting plate which consisted of sausage, chicken, potato salad, various vegetable chips and some rice. It was very yummy and quite good value, I thought at $15.
It was almost eight o’clock by the time I got home. Sticky, humid. It was one of those walk in the door and get your gear off kinda nights.
Jumping online I was confronted with an absolutely stunning photograph of Stockholm on the blog of Sandra in Sweden.
As she describes it…
The sun is shining at last. Both yesterday and today, we are having amazingly sunny days, the kind that make you feel good to be alive. It’s been a while since we had this kind of weather, so yesterday we bundled up in our winter gear and headed out for a long walk. I don’t think I was alone in needing the sun – there were a lot of people out walking and also just basking in the rays.
And to think, I’ll be there in just over three weeks.
“Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture….” (gratuitous ABBA lyric)
Sydney Sky
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Dinner out is always so expensive for me. You can guess why.
Dinner out is always so expensive for me. You can guess why.
Hehehehe.