Once More Around the Sun - 2020

 

Eurobodalla Botanic Gardens 2020

So 2020, there’ve been worse years - 1985 was a complete and utter mongrel of a thing and I still have nightmares about 2009 and 2010.

Last year ended as this year started, with drought and fires, all perfectly natural, all normal and nothing to see here according to our prime minister who, of course, could see none of it because he was holidaying in Hawaii at the time.  At least 34 people died along with nearly 3 billion animals and over 3000 houses were destroyed but I have a pure Pollyanna moment to share...

With water restrictions set to 'Watch your garden die' we took to keeping a bucket in the shower to catch stray water, as you do.  Of course it was a little soapy so after the first drops of rain were finally absorbed into our parched soil I took to throwing it on some gardenias that were suffering from sooty mold and now they're right as the aforementioned rain.  Good news story!

But wait, there's more and believe it or not these happy moments all revolve around COVID-19.

Now don't get me wrong here, I know he didn't discover Australia but I'm a fan of James Cook.  He wasn't a slave trading racist but appears to have been quite a decent chap who was also a damned fine navigator and cartographer.  But 2020 was the sesquicentenary of his arrival on the Australian east coast and the prime minister was determined to celebrate that with a new $50 million statue which would become nothing more than a rallying point for protest.  Then there was the re-enactment of the circumnavigation of Australia that James Cook never undertook.  That was Matthew Flinders, Morrison you dumbfuck!

Cancelled!

Our six weeks in Wales, Ireland, England and Singapore went right down the gurgler.  Flying business class and staying in flash hotels, it was to be the splurge of a lifetime but we did book it between cats.  Kev had just passed and we needed cheering up so I thought "why not?!"  Of course the Universe had other plans and along came shy nervous rescue cat Bruce who just needed his two dads but nobody else.  He'd have gone spare alone for six weeks even with Aunty Jan and Uncle Tony visiting daily and attempting to fuss over him.  Problem solved though...

Cancelled!

And speaking of Return of the Native 3, I decided to blog the entire trip as per the itinerary and style it "Return of the Native 2.1" with an explanation in Part 1 and numerous other cryptic references to it being a work of fiction peppered throughout the twelve other parts.  Of course the fictional nature of the offering completely eluded one or two readers like Peter Ross who phoned to ask where we were staying in London, was it the place he recommended?  If you missed them the first blog can be found here and the rest follow...

https://cawthorne54.blogspot.com/2020/05/return-of-native-21-wales-ireland.html

We did manage some modest travel though.  There was a four night trip to Canberra in September which was disproportionately satisfying even with screaming sacroiliac pain.  We hadn't travelled further than the Central Coast all year so to actually cross a border, albeit that of the Australian Capital Territory, came close to feeling exotic.

https://cawthorne54.blogspot.com/2020/10/

We were on the road again in November.  It was one of our now traditional jaunts to visit Cate and Brian at Batemans Bay with an overnight at Kiama en route so we could visit Peter's oldest mate John who lives near there.  Same motel and restaurant in Kiama, same cafe in Milton and only a slight variation in the Indian meal I took down to Batemans.  Much like the old Mortein fly spray ad, "When you're on a good thing, stick to it!"  We did add an extra night though with a stopover at Greenwell Point near the mouth of the Shoalhaven River east of Nowra.  It's a lovely place but is best visit on a weekday out of season.  Weekends and holidays see it morph into Boganville.

https://cawthorne54.blogspot.com/2020/12/tales-of-a-subaru-eurobodalla-bound-2020.html

Whilst many people have experienced cuts, Peter's NDIS program funding has been increased slightly so it will cover not only weekly speech and physical therapy but also five or six sessions with a physiotherapist which will be followed up by the EP.  Sadly, this comes back to how well organised your advocate is and how good they are at writing submissions and presenting during assessments.  I've come to rather relish the challenge!  Lori still goes along to therapy sessions with Peter and then spends four hours with him at home doing follow up and helping with a little cleaning.  She does a brilliant job and has become part of our family.

The budget also covers activities Peter can no longer do himself including some garden maintenance.  Old friends Priscilla and David recommended the amazing Lars who has been doing things for them and he now comes to us for a day a month.  That stops me from tumbling down the steep front bank or falling off ladders which are both tasks Peter cannot safely perform either.  And Lars lifts heavy things that neither of us would once have given a second thought.  My how age creeps up on you!

Yakutak Bay, Alaska - 2000

And speaking of fitness, I am in awe of Tony's commitment to twice weekly exercise classes following his heart attack and stent five years ago.  He turned 80 this year and lower back problems aside is still going from strength to strength. 

Jan has been suffering increased arthritis and a rheumatologist who merely ticks boxes rather than looking outside them.  It took my intervention to get her to a neurologist who determined that the debilitating problems she was having with her hands was not carpal tunnel and would not be improved by wearing splints at night.  It was in fact severe constriction of the 3/4 vertebrae which had compromised her spinal cord.  Always measure twice and cut once.  I found a neurosurgeon that impressed both Jan and I on numerous levels the first of which was her apology for being early to our appointment, yes early!  Who's ever had that happen.  The operation went smoothly and now we await a follow up appointment at the end of January.  Recovery, if there is to be any, will take longer than that but at least there should be no further decline.

I gave thanks to the retirement gods when schools all but closed and established remote learning models virtually overnight.  How good are teachers?!  I was one of the facilitators of the amazing Technology in Learning and Teaching (TILT) Program which introduced technology into the curriculum from 1997 to 2003.  I'm prepared to stand back, declare that an outstanding success and pat myself and the rest of the team on the back.  And special bouquets to you, Joy Murray Mother of TILT, without whom none of it would have happened!

And what a relief it must be for teachers to have parents stopped at the school gate.  In my final years of teaching there were almost as many parents hanging around at morning assembly as there were children.  Then they'd walk their treasures to class, wiping their noses as they went and attempt to engage the teacher when they arrived.  For Christ sake leave your kiddies at the gate then allow them to go on their merry way and develop some resilience and independence!  Better still, let them take the bus or walk!

The Girls have continued to be shockingly expensive with mounting veterinary bills now pushing the value of each of egg to around $5 but never mind, it's not all about produce.  Shirley Elizabeth and Lucille Ball joined the lineup earlier this year continuing the Significant Women theme.  Shirley the Barred Plymouth is named for my first principal, Elizabeth (Shirley) Dunn because she was sourced by our mutual friend Scilla Rosenberg.  I got Lucy the lovely little red New Hampshire to be her companion and then spent six months introducing them to the others.  Chooks are a labour of love and are not to be taken lightly.  You don't go out and get them just because there were a few weeks at the height of COVID when you couldn't buy bloody eggs!

All else is well and the garden is growing almost fast enough to block out the house without soul that is being constructed as I write on the land behind us where my childhood home stood until just a few months ago.  That's the price you pay for "returning home" in a city with a particularly buoyant real estate market.

Stay well and may the next rotation be better than the last.  Meanwhile tread lightly.

With love from

Glenn, Peter (Lyle to some of you) Bruce and everyone else at #5

Bruce - 2020

Tales of the a Subaru - Eurobodalla Bound 2020

This trip is seven or eight months late but hey, it's 2020, the year COVID stopped the world and Americans took to the streets protesting against democracy.  We were headed south to catch up with Cate and Brian before our trip to Wales, Ireland, England and Singapore which I blogged regardless of reality.  Of course there was very nearly nowhere to catch up with Cate and Brian, half of their neighbourhood having been lost to last summer's horrendous fires while our thrice failed advertising guru/prime minister, who can neither hold a hose (his words) nor take advice from fire chiefs (their words) was holidaying in Hawaii, but more about charcoal and ash later.

Our first port of call is always a visit with Peter's oldest mate John who is in a Uniting Care facility at Shellharbour.  John is one of the many reasons I no longer believe in any kind of divine being, at least not a caring one.  Reincarnation is mathematically implausible and as for karma, don't shit me, that's just wishful thinking!  We had about 90 minutes all up which is as good as it gets in our brave new world but hey, unlike head-up-their-arse countries such as the UK and America we have zero local transmissions and zero deaths at the time of writing so let's keep it that way, especially in facilities that care for our most vulnerable people.

Tucker Tip #1 - Hanoi on Manning in Kiama (as always).

We had the usual Vietnamee (Kath Day-Knight pronunciation) pancake and a green papaya salad followed by sago, banana and peanut pudding and banana fritters with sago, peanuts and coconut ice cream.  We just keep going back.

Accommodate Tip #1 - the Kiama Beach Boutique Motel

 We've been staying at the Kiama Beach Boutique Motel for years now and it's been slated for demolition and a new flash apartment building for even longer but on it goes.  It's circa 1960 but spotlessly clean and very well run.  And best of all they have a clacker step in the shower so you can give your quoit a good scrub.  The outlook isn't bad either (from the rooms that is, not the clacker steps) so a few extra bucks for an Ocean View room, upstairs is best.

Tucker Tip #2 - Pilgrim's Cafe in Milton

They serve great vegan burgers and wraps but they're big.  We had them cut one in two this time and shared it.  Do order your own milkshake though.  They are even better than what you'll get at the fully retro and completely iconic Bell's Milk Bar in Broken Hill. 

Hint:  Avoid the height of lunchtime, this place is seriously popular!

Leather shop Tip #1 - Roman Leather Goods in Mogo

Gaspar has been making, adjusting and repairing Peter's eye patches for ten years now and doing a fantastic job.  He and wife Lorena are a truly lovely couple who we've come to regard as friends but on New Years Eve, just a fortnight after moving into their new shop a couple of doors up from the old one... you've guessed it... both the new shop and the old one, as well as their house, burned down.  And of course they were underinsured.  They are now operating out of a demountable building in a backstreet that doesn't bode well for passing trade which was how we found them in the first instance.  But check them out, they have a great range as well as doing special orders and repairs.  Turn left towards Mogo Zoo then first left into Charles Street.

Of course shit happens so a few months after the fire, Gaspar and Lorena's oldest daughter, who lives in South-Western Sydney, contracted COVID-19 which resulted in some kind of iron retention problem and several blood transfusions.  We left Peter's patch for a grease and oil change but also bought some fantastic boots for our Claytons great-niece Tessa and a manbag that I can wear on my belt.  I'll probably never use it but I needed to spend some money in their shop.

 

The plan was to head over the hill, collect Cate, kidnap cold frog Brian and head straight down to the beach for our first swim of the season (to which Peter was not looking forward) but as we were chatting with Lorena the skies opened and down it came with all the powers of piss - wind and hail as well.  We helped bring the stock in from the verandah and chatted on for a while longer before making our way through verdant green bush and field all black and charred below, past sites where houses once stood to the McFoley's which escaped any noteworthy damage whilst the two in front and several others there abouts have simply ceased to be.

It was a great catch up as always.  Cate and I were next door neighbours in Drummond College at the University of New England several lifetimes ago and have remained good mates ever since.  The conversion was constant and the view more expansive than ever with a number of remaining neighbours experiencing post-bushfire bouts of chainsaw madness.

We visited the nearby Eurobodalla Botanic Gardens with all its fabulous new infrastructure which was more than a bit of a necessity given the last lot went up with all 42 hectares of the gardens in less than 30 minutes.  There is still a bridge or two that needs replacing but they've done a remarkable job and, as with everywhere along the coast, the vegetation is bouncing back.  Not so the fauna though.  Cate and Brian used to have regular kangaroo visitors who simply haven't been seen since the last few injured ones were put down after the fires.

Stone fruit Tip #1

I can't begin to imagine how many times we've driven past the roadside fruit stall with a 'Peaches' sign that's just off the western side of the highway a kilometre or two south of the Sussex Inlet turnoff.  Well not this time!  Specialising in stone fruit, as they do, it's only open a few months of the year but if it is do yourself a favour.  They only sell what's in season and it's all grown just up the hill.  The stall is their only outlet so the carbon footprint of what you buy is as close to nil as possible and it's seriously good quality fruit.

Accommodation Tip #2 - the Anchor Bay Motel at Greenwell Point

After our usual couple of nights with the McFoleys we said farewell till next time and headed north again.  A few years ago whilst having an explore we passed through the sleepy retirement and holiday haven of Greenwell Point which is in the estuary of the Shoalhaven River.  We noted the Anchor Bay Motel and thought a night there might be in order at some point of time.  That’s now ticked off the bucket list with a star and seal of approval.  The family who run the motel are delightful and it's very well maintained.  Go for a room with a view - 10, 11 and 12.

With a lunch from nearby DJ' Fish 'n' Chips (recommenced) under our belts we went exploring. 

First stop was the Greenwell Point Bowlo which seems to be the town's principal employer and for that I commend them.  Still bloated from lunch, I popped in to pick up a takeaway menu from their in-house Chinee restaurant (Kath Day-Knight again).

Tall and friendly but easily confused young Darren welcomed me to the club but my request for a takeaway menu caught him quite off guard.  We jointly decided it would be best if he took my temperature and scanned my driver's license (as they do these days) and I just went and looked at the menu which was posted on the closed restaurant door.  All good!

Now that's when I observed the view which was better than good, in fact it was excellent, so I determined that we should make a booking to eat in.  And better still, they had a courtesy bus to collect and return us so a drink or three would definitely be in order.

Back I go to tall and friendly but easily confused young Darren who was happy to take a booking for the courtesy bus but couldn't do the same for the restaurant which was first in best dressed in this brand new age of COVID which saw Darren and the entire club staff, restaurant included, wearing masks.  He did, however, warn that it was ham raffle night so there'd likely be quite the crowd of punters all looking to win their Christmas leg.

Well now most of you will know I simply can't ingest enough port product - not!  I booked the bus for 7:30pm which I anticipated would be post Sunday night pre-Christmas ham raffle time in what was, at this time of year, effectively just a retirement community.

So off we went, me still uncomfortable from our F&Cs because I just don't eat much at lunch these days and it was riding heavy on my otherwise uncomfortable guts for which I'd recently had both an ultrasound and blood tests.  That's when we discovered a Forrest Gump style of fishing village on a channel to the south of town.  A dozen or more oyster farmers have set up their processing and sales facilities in shacks on either side of the waterway and it was like stepping back in time.  In the midst of it all was Jim Wild's Oysters which not only does all of the aforementioned but also has its own oyster bar which serves them au naturale or grilled in three or four different ways.  

Now I haven't eaten an oyster for years but suddenly I wanted some!  Peter was repulsed by the very idea, eggplant as well but that's a whole other story.  They also had some lovely, but of course not local, tiger prawns which would have suited him had we not just eaten.  I made a mental note for next time - but not on a Monday.

So back to the motel we went for a cup of tea then a wander around that end of the township.

Travel Tip #1

Best visit Greenwell Point during a weekday and preferably out of season.  On weekends and holiday periods it transforms into Boganville.

I think it's the confluence of the boat ramp, several wharfs, free electric barbecues, a very well maintained local swimming pool, an extensive playground and not one but two F&C outlets.  Build it and provide ample car parking and they will come, mostly in massive 4WDs or Tonka Toy trucks but also in lowered utes which mostly have to be unloaded of both passengers and Eskys in order to negotiate the area's abundance of speed humps which speaks volumes in itself.

 

As our appointed pick up time of 7:30 neared I was tiring of the whole bowlo/Chinee idea then came two failed phone calls from what looked like a local number.  I phoned back and it was my newfound friend Darren who said he wasn't sure how to use the phone which sounded entirely plausible.  He apologised about the failure to collect but the ham raffle had sent the whole of the bowlo into veritable porcine meltdown (my words not his).  Would we mind being collected at 8 o'clock by which time things should have calmed down?

"Darren, mate!"  I said.  "Let's put a hold on the courtesy bus business and we'll just pop down and pick up a takeaway instead of eating in."

"Would you still like us to pick you up though?  We can come at 8 o'clock."

I don't know what people hear these days or how much of that they actually process but never mind.  Darren is a tall friendly chap who has a job and all of that needs to be celebrated.

We arrived at the overflow parking a short while later and hiked up to the club just in time to hear the final leg of ham of the evening being called and witness the collective sign of those who faced a seafood alternative this Christmas.  Some were already making plans to visit Jim Wild down the way a little but I suspect old Jim will be sending a couple of crates of oysters the club's way for their big Christmas Eve raffle.  And then, of course, there are more ham raffles every Sunday evening between now and then anyway.

We ordered a takeaway special fried rice (hold the pork and ham) and a Singapore chicken (which I'd never before heard of) then retired to the rapidly emptying bar for a beer.  That's when the mirror ball above the empty dance floor started to rotate and 78 year-old DJ Barry cranked up the Bee Gees 'Stayin' Alive' which I thought more of an affirmation than an invitation to dance.  That was followed by a pre-George Michael George Michael singing 'Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go' and I sensed a theme, a genre if you like.

I thought we might go out front and take in twilight over the estuary but both doors were alarmed.  I imagine this is an OH&S safety precaution.  The only people in the club who appeared younger than us were Darren and his band of masked colleagues who were already busy enough picking up discarded raffle tickets, clearing tables and collecting lost or misplaced dentures and hearing aids.  Attentive though they were, they'd have been hard pressed to dash outside and haul a bewildered pensioner out of the Shoalhaven should one wander off and topple in as I'm sure they do from time to time.

So back we went with our acceptable but in no way remarkable bowlo Chinee for a fairly early night of TV with a largely I undecipherable remote control.  That aside, my only real complaint about the otherwise excellent Anchor Bay Motel is the snugness of their bathrooms.  When the "little fart that wasn't" struck at around 3:30am I found myself sitting on the loo with my knees all but pressed up against the opposing wall wondering how I was going to do the paperwork.

Over 50s Tip #1

Always wear underpants to bed.  They buy you a little extra time and are much easier to remove and wash than sheets but you still need to move quickly during the initial stages, very quickly!

Traffic having been an utter bitch on the way down we decided to return home via the Picton Road and the continuum of motorways which, with the completion of the new Connex North, now takes us to within a couple of kilometres of home albeit for a great deal of money.  That aside, the route facilitated an hour or so down memory lane when the Spirt of Christmases Past (or something similar) moved me to swing DeDe off the Picton Road at the approach to Cordeaux Dam.  Neither Peter nor I had been there for over 50 years which is a rather disturbing two generations and then some in genealogical terms.

I remember going there some time during the 60s but have no memory of the actual place so was delighted to discover a rather fine example of the faux Egyptian style of hydrological engineering which abounded throughout the Greater Sydney region during the 1920s.  The pump houses and access points all look like pharaonic tombs with great concrete columns that have the appearance of stone at either end of the long dam wall which we walked.

 

Once finally home Bruce almost turned himself inside out with joy.  He completely ignored his Aunty Jan and Uncle Tony who faithfully appeared every evening during our absence to provide him with both sustenance and company.  Our Boy is a two man cat, end of story, and this is.

 

Tales of the Subaru - Canberra 2020

Tidbinbilla River to the south of Canberra

I don't think we ventured more than about 50km from home during our COVID gap-year, which is 45km further than Victorians could go but hey, we're old and we have the odd existing condition which wouldn't necessarily sit well with a potentially fatal respiratory condition so no complaints here.  But with light at the end of the NSW tunnel we decided that a short sojourn was in order.  Queensland was out of the question but there was one border open to New South Welshpersons and that was the Australian Capital Territory - Canberra.  And not just Canberra but Canberra in spring albeit without a Floriade as we've all come to know it.

It was also a chance to catch up with friends not seen during COVID except via Zoom and others not seen at all for several years.  With this very much in mind we hit the beautiful Southern Highlands on the way down and what a good decision that was because the whole region was in full and rather glorious bloom.  The purpose of the diversion was to visit our old friends Allan and Ian who own the Bundanoon Bloomery which you will not being surprised to know is in the very heart of Bundanoon right next to the old bakery which is owned by Will who is another friend from the same era.  Will's tenant moved out a couple of months ago so he was down there doing major renovations.  It was happy catch ups all around.

A magnolia in Bowral

So with friendships renewed and a couple of excellent salad rolls from the Primula Cafe under our belts it was back on the road to Canberra and the Forrest Hotel and Apartment which, just like your lack of surprise at the Bundanoon Bloomery being in Bundanoon, is in the suburb of Forrest which abuts Capital Hill upon which sits the Parliament of Australia.  In fact you could see the iconic flagpole from the kitchen of our apartment.

Canberra Accommodation Tip #1

Canberra has become a city of fairly smart hotels, the bloody things are everywhere.  They are all overpriced and they all charge for parking which just pisses me right off.  For Christ sake, it's Canberra not Paris!  Last time we stayed in Washington DC parking was part of the deal but not Canberra these days unless you stay at the Forrest Hotel and Apartments which is actually a large family-run motel with a number of two-storey apartment buildings adjoining.  I'm talking very well maintained, spotlessly clean 1970s accommodation.  If you're staying more than a few days I highly recommend their one or two bedroom apartments. 

The Forrest Hotel is directly opposite the National Jewish Centre which we hoped to visit in order to check out their museum but it closes at 4 o'clock and it was just about that time when we pulled into hotel reception.  We went across nevertheless just to take a few pictures of the outside to post on Facebook the following day being, as it was, Rosh Hashanah.  That's when we met our newest best friend Tammy who is a board member there.  She invited us in, introduced us around then took us on our own personal tour of the centre which included the Progressive Synagogue, the Orthodox Synagogue and the much anticipated museum.  We felt quite special and were welcome to stay as long as we wanted but Tammy had to head back out to her car and bring in some chickens for the following evening's celebration dinner - rather stereotypical, as she herself happily admitted.

Canberra Tucker Tip #1

And speaking of chicken, the Forrest Hotel is only a ten minute walk from rather smart Manuka and a dozen or so good restaurants, one of which is my favourite in the entire world.  It serves the best thing I've ever eaten and I've done so many times - shan tung chicken.  Their English spinach with garlic runs a close second and we order both along with steamed rice, nothing complicated.

Shan Tung Chicken & English Spinach with Garlic

 

 

Well it would be a ten minute walk if my driving aggravated sciatica didn't have me very nearly crying with pain.  With the walking stick in my arthritis hand because that's my sciatica side, I hobbled past the 'Private - No Entry' sign to a bench in the garden of the Roman Catholic Cathedral's pederasty.  Is that what they call the place where the priests live?  Near enough!

How many galleries is too many galleries?  In my case the answer is 8 ibuprofen worth.  The NGA is in a state of reorganisation under its new director who is taking the place off in a slightly more eclectic curatorial direction.  The entire centre of them gallery around where 'Blue Poles' was formerly housed is currently being redeveloped and the Jackson Pollack classic is now upstairs in the north-eastern corner undergoing public conservation which is art in itself.  My favourite picture in the entire gallery has long been 'Bob' by Chuck Close.  Most people dismiss it as just a huge monochrome photograph but it's actually the best example of photo realism I've ever seen - a painting.  That is now upstairs near 'Blue Poles' and all of the other modern classics which formally hung in the centre of the ground floor.

'Blue Poles'

'Bob'

We ducked away for lunch then returned to visit the National Portrait Gallery which is just across the way.  They had an extremely engaging exhibition called 'Pub Rock' which features photographic images of Australian bands and artists from the 70s and 80s so what's not to like about that?!  I was astounded by how many I recognised and how many of their gigs I've been to.  It was an entire lifetime ago but it was nice to shuffle down memory lane for an hour.

And an hour is all you get, two at the NGA.  Both galleries have ticketed timed visits at the moment because of COVID.  They're still free but you need to go online and book a slot which I don't see as a problem but then I choose life over life-support or worse still a cremator.

The National Library of Australia is always good for a visit if only for the amazing lead lights in the cafe and bookshop and the bookshop itself.  In addition to their usual treasures they currently have a photographic exhibition of Australian homes over the last two hundred years which struck a chord with me, my family home having been so recently demolished.

Pain put paid to our plan to visit the Museum of Democracy at historic Old Parliament House so we went back to the apartment for some pre-dinner ibuprofen and vodka but not before taking a turn around Canberra's newest smart area by the lake at Kingston which ironically enough adjoins its most down-at-the-heel in Causeway.

Causeway was an early failed attempt at public housing which was boldly reinvented in the 70s but doomed to fail again.  It is a very un-Canberra grid of identically modest houses which I will be generous by saying were probably of a slightly innovative design for the time but way too small and very isolated.  The area awaits demolition but there is life in the old girl yet.  Children play in its quiet street and bogans are celebrated, none more than at the house on a particular corner which isn't very difficult to find, just look for the extensive fleet of car wrecks. 

And being on a corner they have access to two verges on which to spill their precious cargo or more's the point, car-not-go.  There were at least a dozen of them, probably more.  Some were in a possible state of repair, others in a definite state of cannibalisation, but my very favourite was a Kingswood with a Victa lawnmower protruding through its broken rear window - a perfect, if slightly odd, marriage of two Australian icons!  Every fibre of my being wanted to stop and take photographs but at least two of the residents were roaming the site in a way that reminded me of docked-tailed Dobermans and I didn't want DeDe to be captured - or us for that matter!

Do you remember The Cars That Ate Paris from way back in 1974?  That was Paris, Australia of course, not Paris, France.  I have serious reason to believe that 1 Marri Street, Causeway might well have been the inspiration for that particular cult movie classic.

That evening saw us on our first ever Uber journey across the lake to our good friend Anne, sister of one of my oldest friends Kim who was down for a few days.  We hadn't seen Anne for several years and Kim for almost a COVID year so it was a wonderful catch up which included dinner and constant admiration of what Anne has recently done with her kitchen and the living areas of her house.  The woman has extraordinary taste and the name of an excellent tradesman and I do mean tradesman not tradie.  Ample wine and an Uber ride back to Forrest.

Kim & Anne with the Musical Fridge

Next morning saw us ride the new Canberra Light Rail from Civic to Gungahlin and back.  It's the beginnings of what will be an excellent addition to Canberra's public transport system but it did leave me wondering why anyone would want to live in Gungahlin or anywhere on the way to Gungahlin. The light rail has been an excuse to throw up a corridor of five-storey apartments and warrens of very ugly townhouses right along the bulk of the route.  In fact on our travels around the newer areas of the capital this visit we saw more apartments and townhouses than there could possibly be people in Canberra.  What's going on?

Civic bound light rail at Gungahlin

We had taken a turn by the shambolic Museum of Australia late the previous afternoon, just to visit their gift shop which is one of the very best in Canberra.  We were, however, lured into a Cook exhibition given that 2020 is the sesquicentenary of his landing in Botany Bay, charting of the east coast and the claiming of two-thirds of the continent plus Aotearoa and other associated bibs and bobs in the name of King George III who wasn't barking mad at this early stage of his reign, he just wasn't very good at his job.

At this point I must digress and say that one of the few positive outcomes of COVID-19 was the placing of the Cook Sesquicentenary squarely on the back burner.  I'm not an historical revisionists but nor do I celebrate the likes of Cecil Rhodes or murderous slave traders like King Leopold II.  James Cook was not a racist, he wasn't even an imperialist in the true sense, he was just a lieutenant in the Royal Navy who was carrying out orders and if all military personnel were tried for retrospective crimes against humanity across the millennia prisons and gallows would be so full you would need to repeat the entire expansionist process to establish new prison colonies in which to house them all.

Of course James, by then a captain, paid the ultimate sacrifice for any colonial indiscretions he may have inadvertently committed when, just shy of nine years later, he himself became a sandwich in the Sandwich Islands now known as Hawaii.  Either way, Little Scotty from Marketing, being a thrice failed advertising man and not an actual prime minister, was determined make a show of what he and the unwashed masses believe to be the 250th anniversary of Cook's discovery of Australia which is flawed in too many ways to bother with.  The plan was to erect yet another statue of him, the most expensive by far, and send the replica of the Endeavour on a commemorative voyage right around Australia which is something Cook himself never did.  That was actually Matthew Flinders but Scummo has never been known for his attention to detail.  Anyway, COVID-19 saved us from the worst of it all but I suspect there is a $50 million statue that will become the rallying point for protest long into the future languishing in a warehouse somewhere or other.

But back to the museum...

Endeavour Voyage rubbed me a little up the wrong way at our first viewing.  It is the story of Cook's journey up the east coast of Australia from Point Hicks in present day Victoria to Possession Island in the Torres Strait.  A long topographic relief of the coast flows through the length of the exhibition with insights into various Indigenous communities along the way.  My problem was the quite literal words that were put into the mouths of the people of Kamay or Botany Bay by modern day people who claim to be their descendants.  It's fine to speak in concepts but not to fabricate actual discourse.  I am not a particular fan of oral history which can all too easily overreach and become construct history.  Some of this has.

With my sciatica under relative control and me feeling a little happier with the world a second viewing seemed in order because if nothing else, I am in awe of James Cook as a navigator, a cartographer and most certainly for being much less of a bastard than many of his contemporaries on land or at sea. 

Cook is not demonised in this exhibition, as is the current fashion, and I learned a great deal about the man and gained a greater insight into life along the east coast 250 years ago.  The exhibition also answered a long pondered question of mine as to how he actually drew his amazingly accurate and rather beautiful maps.  It was essentially an 18th century etch-a-sketch used in conjunction with state-of-the-art navigational tools.

We left satisfied and also with a bag of treasures from the gift shop.

Canberra Tucker Tip #2

My favourite Canberra restaurant used to be the Anatolia in Civic but that was more than 30 years ago.  I've searched for a replacement Turkish ever since.  I found an excellent one in Auburn which has since been sold on and changed and another in North London which is still open but it's an impossible hike at this particular point of time.

But there is The Original Turkish Kitchen on Captain Cook Crescent in Manuka.  In my heart-of-hearts I hoped 'The Original' was a reference to the Anatolia but it's probably not.  Still, it's worth a visit and being both Turkish and located on a crescent why not?!  I have never eaten a more tender chicken shish kebab but stick to the mains, avoid entrees unless you're really hungry because the kebab, rice, potato salad, mixed salad and Turkish bread had me waddling like a duck. 

And wait for it... this is the only restaurant in Manuka that is BYO but charges no corkage, not a cent!

The newish National Arboretum just north of Scrivener Dam is always on our agenda.  Oh to be able to revisit thus place in 50 to 100 years to see what it has become!  The site is the pine forest adjacent to the historic cork forest.  The former quite literally bit the dust in the 2003 fires whilst the latter survived to become Stage 1 of the arboretum which is a 250 hectare site containing over 44,000 rare and endangered trees planted in large checkerboard plots of around a hectare each.  It's a magical place that looks towards the future but is also a wonderful visit in the here and now.

The highlight of our four days was the discovery of the a Tidbinbilla Nature Reserve.  Much like Lieutenant Cook and the Australian east coast we clearly weren't the first but it was a discovery for us nevertheless.  We took an afternoon drive out to Casuarina Sands then followed Paddys River Road east until it becomes Tidbinbilla Road - Route 5 on a map.  That's where we found the reserve which I've never been to in almost 60 years of visiting the national capital.  Peter lived there for 8 years and he'd never been their either but we will be going back.

It's a large drive-around space with picnic areas and the like but the jewel in the crown is The Sanctuary which is at its heart.  This is a large area set around a series of ponds that are reported to be teaming with platypuses although every ripple we spotted turned out to be a water spider.  Never mind!  This precious environment is surrounded by a high electrified fence to keep out the likes of the very wily-looking feral cat we spotted on our drive in. 

The Sanctuary

The Sanctuary is accessible by foot or wheelchair only and is worth a couple of hours of your time if only for the amazing forest scent.  It smells like an expensive environmentally packaged fragrance you might find in a wilderness shop in Tasmania, the kind that's run by recovering hippies who've embraced a completely vegan Fair Trade form of low impact capitalism.

It was just on sunset as we drove out of the main part of the reserve and there were over 200 eastern grey kangaroos grazing in a huge meadow by the corner of Tidbinbilla Road.  We were in awe and we will be returning just as did to Timmy's that evening and since it will probably be a year or more till we get back I have to confess to a double order of shan tung chicken, but not both at once.

Some locals at Tidbinbilla Nature Reserve