Trade and Religion
When Muslims are killing Hindu students in their hostels in Bangladesh and the world is distracted by events…
Grant
When I heard that friend Grant was ill I started to write out some notes about him. I…
VH-EMS (12)
Personal Locator Beacon, PLB, South Coast Track, Tasmania, Tasmania Police, Trekking, Westpac Rescue Helicopter
After we finished the conversation with the Apple SOS AI bot we packed up camp. The day has…
Turua Resolved (11)
Monday 11th Sep 23 South Coast Track, Tasmania It is quite reasonable to edit ones track notes when…
Turua Beach (Again) (10)
Sunday 10th Sep 2023 South Coast Track, Tasmania It is quite reasonable to edit ones track notes when…
Don’t Be the Guy… (9)
Saturday 9th Sep 23 South Coast Track, Tasmania …who pings their PLB. It is quite reasonable to…
Stephen King’s ‘On Writing’ was a helpful little tome that unleashed my thinking about creative writing. With a background as a government analyst, I was inclined to gather the facts before I sketched out the story. Stephen urged the reverse – sketch out the story first and then plug in the facts. That little insight unleashed creative writing.
Featured Posts
The Plan(tation)
Recollections (6) So, while it’s a small town with only Puketapu (Pookie)…
Trade and Religion
When Muslims are killing Hindu students in their hostels in Bangladesh and the world is distracted by events in Israel and Gaza, Kerala is a unique reminder that multicultural cohabitation can work peaceably well. But perhaps the secret is to mix trade, commerce, business with religion – it seems to temper ideology and even engender…
Grant
When I heard that friend Grant was ill I started to write out some notes about him. I had done something similar after David passed away. I figured I would get something down before Grant passed but I was too slow and I had barely got this underway when the news came through that he…
VH-EMS (12)
Personal Locator Beacon, PLB, South Coast Track, Tasmania, Tasmania Police, Trekking, Westpac Rescue HelicopterBy Bruce Lyman1 Comment
After we finished the conversation with the Apple SOS AI bot we packed up camp. The day has started out overcast but it clears to a blustery sort of day but there is no rain thankfully. Had there been any rain we would have left the tarp up. But the best pickup point is on…
Turua Resolved (11)
Monday 11th Sep 23 South Coast Track, Tasmania It is quite reasonable to edit ones track notes when publishing. I’ve refrained from doing so in this entry in an effort to retain the immediacy of the thinking. It all looks and feels different a day or so later, especially from the comfort and safety of…
Turua Beach (Again) (10)
Sunday 10th Sep 2023 South Coast Track, Tasmania It is quite reasonable to edit ones track notes when publishing. I’ve refrained from doing so in this entry in an effort to retain the immediacy of the thinking. It all looks and feels different a day or so later, especially from the comfort and safety of…
Don’t Be the Guy… (9)
Saturday 9th Sep 23 South Coast Track, Tasmania …who pings their PLB. It is quite reasonable to edit ones track notes when publishing. I’ve refrained from doing so in this entry in an effort to retain the immediacy of the thinking. It all looks and feels different a day or so later, especially from…
The Drama Starts (8)
Friday 8 Sep 23 South Coast Track, Tasmania Ironbound Low Camp is a very loose term. Camp is not what you might imagine the the word. Any patches of ground that looked reasonable proved, on close inspection, to be potential ponds, or were located under vast tonnages of timber which is disconcerting to say the…
Ironbound Low Camp (7)
Thursday 7 September 2023 South Coast track, Tasmania Camped at Low Camp, Ironbound Range. 900m up and not quite 900m down. Descent like coming down a steep ladder covered in grease. Knackered. 0613 departure after discovering at 0500 our site was flooding. Slept despite listening to wind in the trees and surrounded by lots…
Louisa River (6)
Wednesday 6 Sep 23 South Coast Track, Tasmania When I undertook my officer training we had what must have been the most idiotic leadership assessment exercise, run (I use the term loosely) by an officer who I can happily report did not survive her student review. Legend has it that she became a lady of…
Louisa Creek (5)
Tuesday 5 Sep 23 South Coast Track, Tasmania We have woken to an unexpected sunny morning. The four day forecast had us expecting to pack up in rain and as we dropped off to the sound of rain last night that was a reasonable expectation. I did consider that the nature of the rain –…
Cox Bight (4)
Monday 4 September 23 South Coast Track, Tasmania The cabin went ‘dark’ by about 2030, the silence broken only by the slight synthetic rustle of moving sleeping bags and then by the mournful sound of an owl. Those things always sound like they have just been kicked out of home. The hut is cold –…
Melaleuca (3)
Sunday 3 Sep 23 South Coast Track, Tasmania Just inside the backdoor of Mr and Mrs Paton’s small unpainted weatherboard cottage was a blackboard. On it was recorded all the to’ing and fro’ing of the farm. Lambing tallies. Bales of hay. Eggs. Messages for each other. Dog dosing dates. Movements up and down the valley.…
Low Down on Gear (2)
Saturday 2 September 2023 South Coast Track, Tasmania Loading up an A frame pack with a weeks worth of flour, a change of socks and swimmers plus towel was about the sum of my trekking preparation once upon a time. Not so today. The pack was unpacked and checked then repacked – and of course…
South Coast Track (Tasmania) (1)
Friday 1 September 2023 “Remove the lifejacket by pulling the tab.” She intrudes the instruction into my consciousness just as the 717-200 bumps into reverse and an unseen tug pushes us away from the terminal. We are eventually enjoined to respect each other, a message which is a sign of our times and sadly needed.…
Some Start Up Lessons
The account (Wrestling a Python) of our start up adventure is coming together. Helping me along are these notes I jotted in my diary shortly after we listed. Also helping me along is the memory of Jonathan here, first in to join the co founding team. Sadly he was also the first out. RIP. We…
Men of the Bible
When we buried Dad we buried his Bible with him. Mum thought it would be a good idea and there was something symbolic about it that made sense. As sons and in-laws and grandsons hauled the casket from the hearse the breeze snapped the tattered and well worn volume open and we quickly grabbed the…
Up the Mekong
Monday 19 September 2022 Hue (Hway) aka Harry is a cherry, bespectacled chap with an open face and an engaging demeanour. His primary job is as a salesperson for Norwegian company Jortun but I wonder if he prefers his second source of income more – a Mekong tour guide. It goes against the grain to…
Vietnam
Sunday 18 September 2022 I have a memory of Ho Chi Minh City which is now a generation old and in the intervening period this city has modernised at an extraordinary rate. The wealth born of this very entrepreneurial people is reflected in the new high rise buildings but also in the refurbishment of the…
Kenya and Writing Revisited
The call to prayer wakes me at 0445 and that prompts a distant rooster to get cracking but they both quickly fade out as the rain on the tin roof drowns them out and I drift back to sleep. I wake later, rain still drumming but imam and cockerel silent. It’s Sunday morning so now…
Johnny K
1 August 2022, Ipswich. Today John Kirkpatrick was buried and a celebratory service held afterwards. It was stirring day and not as tough as I thought it would be. Why so? Possibly because the reflection of the hope in him on which his faith was built. Not a gambler’s hope against the odds that be…
A Moment with the Queen
In 1981 the Queen opened CHOGM in Melbourne. The RAF VC10 aircraft and those other planes of visiting dignitaries were parked at RAAF East Sale where a handful of newly graduated dog handlers worked their first ever night shifts guarding them. Then in October 1982 I found myself looking after a RAAF 707 which had…
Stamps Fade to Black
I inherited an eclectic array of postage stamps from Dad. ‘I didn’t even know he collected them’ was my first response. But then vague memories from my teen years of a friendship with the local post office manager in the gritty suburb of Reservoir, Melbourne. A chap who would hand over folded, crisp sleeves of…
China – God’s Coup?
In 1990 in a conversation with my colleagues in the ‘China team’ I took a deep breath and proposed the dramatic rise in the Chinese underground church would have to have an impact on the leadership of the country, in particular addressing the moral vacuum which derived from Mao’s ideology. I had no data, only…
Creating the Story – Visualisation and Framing
Writing is a pleasure. No question. But a particularly enjoyable element to writing fiction is the visualisation and ‘ground truthing’ into which you graft the story. Lights of Rue Catinat is a working title of a narrative I have been tweaking for quite some time now. Two French servicemen have spent time in the trenches…
Nairobi Revisited
Monday 22 Nov 21 Diary: Roosters crow in the distance. Finches chit in the bushes near the feeder. Residual water from the second rain this season (the wet is late and may not actually arrive) plops from foliage stirred into action by a light breeze. Back in Africa to sights and sounds which get into…
Taxi Story – Kenya (2)
A Sunday afternoon connection which meant the traffic at the airport was light. We comment on that as we clear the car park. The usual light chatter with which to warm up. You came in from Sydney? I did How long? That first leg is 15 hours. Then a few hours in Dubai then just…
Fragile
A very interesting take on the China Taiwan situation. Not the sort of input I would have ever seen in my former analyst days. How influential is this? With 30million views in a month it is clearly making a mark. And of course Beijing is not too keen on its messaging – it’s blocked. Not…
Saigon 1951
Saigon 1951 Prologue to Lights on Rue Catinat, a work of fiction which explores the ethics and morality of human intelligence operations The weed that slushed past in the swirl of muddy water was no longer visible as the falling, soft evening light fused with the deep green shadow that lifted from the jungle…
Bravery Trek
Guy Fawkes night which no one here ever remembers. But is the 5th of November and that was once the highlight of a small boy’s year as detonated and lanced as many fireworks as we possibly could, often at the expense of a brothers military models and dioramas. But tonight there are no fireworks. Right…
You Must Be Mental!
What sound do flames make? It’s a flubbery whipple happening beside me after the crackling and snapping of the kindling sealed down to the serious business of providing light and heat. No blue flame – we are the only ones here and I do hope at this time of the night that remains the case.…
Tamang Heritage Trail – Monastery Launch
Briddim, Monastery, Mountain Tea, Nepal, Tamang, Tamang Heritage Trail, TrekkingBy Bruce Lyman1 Comment
Monday 2 March 2020 The carpenters below us started hammering away at 0600, clearly making the most of the day. They were still at it last night, right up to last light. This morning Kavitha watched the sun edge down from Nagthali and over Thuman. Those villages on the other side of the valley were…
Afghanistan
I woke this morning to news that Kabul had been captured by the Taliban. I nearly wrote ‘fallen’ but so far there has been a reasonably peaceful transition though video sent to me privately from the middle of the night show scenes of desperate despair at the airport. I spot one man wandering among the…
Nagthali
Saturday 29th February We have a slow start, extending our morning by half an hour. That gives the sun time to reach us. It’s another clear day but it has of course frozen overnight and there is no heating in the room until the sun reaches us. The good news is that once the sun is…
Tamang Heritage Trail – Up to Tatopani
Friday 27th We sleep the sleep of the dead. I am in bed by 8.30pm and don’t wake until 4am. But from that point on our slumber is disrupted by barking dogs and rousing roosters, but after 6am especially by the bus driver announcing every ten minutes or so his imminent 7am departure on his…
Up the Hill To Gatlang
Tamang Heritage Trail Thursday 27th The town starts to wake about 0630 with a rising murmur of conversation. Workers on construction sites. People moving up into the mountains, others coming down out of them. A dog has barked right through the night but is now quiet – no doubt tuckered out from his nocturnal carousing.…
Arrival at Syrabrubesi
Nepal, Syrabrubese, Syrabrubesi, Tamang, Tamang Heritage Trail, Travel, UncategorizedBy Bruce Lyman2 Comments
Tamang Heritage Trail. Wednesday 26th Grapes…green and purple. Apples. Bananas. Pomegranates. Strange – it’s a bit late for pomegranates I would have thought. All loaded onto bicycles and being sold on every corner. It’s a cool morning with a stiff breeze, and overcast. We leave Sacred Valley Home at 0810 in a Nissan Patrol driven…
Tamang Heritage Trail Diary – Kathmandu
Tuesday 25 February 2020 The refurbished Sacred Valley Home is comfortable and warm and we sleep like teenagers until the myriads (murders) of crows break through with their raucous calls as they hunt down breakfast. Then the builders start up and down the street with various tools and we are shaken loose from our room…
Tamang Heritage Trail – Kochi to Kathmandu
Monday 24th February 2020. Much to our surprise we push back at 0720 under a smokey orange disc turning shimmering silver over our wing. We are due out at 0730 and in this land that redefines procrastination the fact that Air India Flight 466 is ahead of time is worthy of note. We are on…
Tamang Heritage Trail Diary – Via Kochi
Friday 21 February 2020 Getting launched this morning was a factor of lasts nights preparation which might sound like I am organised but that would be misleading to imply The previous evening had been complicated by the need to drop Mak at the vet, then shop for last minute kit – mainly hand sanitiser. The…
The Plan(tation)
Recollections (6) So, while it’s a small town with only Puketapu (Pookie) to geographically mark it for the passing traveller, there were any number of points that anchored my boyhood view of the place. The curved platform of the railway station for a start. That always entranced me, as did the rails, the rolling stock,…
Puketapu
Recollections 5 Palmerston has a glow about it which comes from lots of memory burnishing, especially polishing that has as its base compound a happy childhood. In truth it’s a tiny country town for which, to those who are not residents, there is little or nothing to commend it. And of course that is the…
A Yellow Bug
Recollection 3: A Yellow German Bug I was not in Dunedin very long. After five years, a yellow German VW beetle clattered me from there and transported me north. Twenty years after we beat them in a global stoush I was being given a lift in one of their cars. We were buying Japanese cars…
Palmerston Sky
Recollections 4 If we are contemplating missiles and such, perhaps we can start this recollection with Skylab. Standing in cool air in the dark on the top of ‘the bank’ staring into a sparkling black sky waiting for movement. Then we hold our breath in wonder as a bright diamond rapidly slides across…
Bay of Pigs in New Zealand
Biography, Dunedin, Family, Family History, New Zealand, Recollections, UncategorizedBy Bruce Lyman3 Comments
Recollections (2) In April 1961 an attempted military-by-proxy (a favourite US formula) invasion of Cuba took place by those who were no admirers of Fidel Castro and his Communist buddies. Backed and trained by the CIA the invasion at the Bay of Pigs was reduced to naught in three days and is often used to…
Guts for Garters
Recollections (1) In the movie “Hunt for the Wilderpeople” Hec, the grumpy character played by Sam Neill, in the final denouement moments of the story, threatens his protégé with the warning that, should the boy Ricky Baker outperform Hec, he would use the boy’s ‘guts for garters’. It was such an unexpected line I laughed…
Barrington Tops
Australia Day Weekend 2019 We clear town while the dawn sky is being scrubbed with a small dose of bleach, taking the colour out of the horizon leaving the white sky to hint at the hot day to come. The air is cool for the moment and we are deceived into thinking the humidity is…
Sunday Sunday
Sunday 15thJuly 2018 We sleep in, after a fashion. 7am is a sleep-in around here. Despite best efforts we are awake relatively early and that is perhaps a factor of light. Most of the crew are asleep when we walk up to the local community church where our number of ten ‘blows them up” –…
Snow at Bonanza
Saturday 14thJuly The perpetual daylight keeps things well illuminated but not so much that we can’t sleep. We have been advised to bring those devices the airlines hand out to shade your eyes but I have not had to use them. This morning it’s not the light that wakes me but the pitter patter of…
Fire on the Mountain
Friday 13thJuly 2018 There is ‘fire on the mountain” this morning. Cloud shifts swiftly in long ribbon strips along the hills, white against the green, following the contours as it were, and a light rain intermittently scatters itself, sometimes so light the first awareness is the sound of the drops in the Alder, a fine…
Fireweed Mountain
Alaska, Blue Steel Dash Expedition, Bush Walking, Travel, Trekking, UncategorizedBy Bruce Lyman1 Comment
Thursday 12 July 2018 Around here the locals tell us they use the Fireweed flower as a weather barometer of sorts. The plant pushes up a single flower stalk which is preloaded with hot pink buds. These open from the bottom and over a period of time the initial blooms drop off and are…
Kennecott Mine
Wednesday 11 July 2018 Once again we set ourselves the target of departing by 0900 and leave at 0940. Today we have a deadline and in fact I had a deadline of 1000 so I’m happy that we are moving by 0940. However, more to the point I am really pleased with the way…
From Kennicott to Kennecott
Monday 9thJuly 2018 Brad Grossweiler, our host, observes with his slow drawl that he was surprised no one was up when he came over at 8am. But this morning everyone slept in and caught up on all the frentic travel that has happened to date. We eventually dislodge (nice pun) ourselves and walk up to…
The Road to Pothole, ahem McCarthy
Alaska Diary (3) Sunday 8 July 2018 We hear a patter of rain through the night but not really enough to stir us. ‘Night’ is a misnomer for it is not dark at any point. The sun sets at 2315 or thereabouts and the remainder of the evening until sunrise is a strange grey half…
Willow Mountain
Alaska Diary (2) Saturday 7thJuly The alarm goes off at 0730 which feels way too early, especially given we chatted with Brad and Ramona until about 0200, including walking out to the bluff and watching people fishing below. Brad explains there are two times in Alaskan summer – the time people are active and the…
Sydney to Copper Centre, Alaska
Alaska 2018 Diary Friday 6th July 2018 The idea started with Frank. Brother Frank that is. Sibling not priest, though he’s pretty good with sacrifices on the altar of Ruger 30-06. He dreamed aloud about going to Alaska and thought some fishing and shooting might be in order. It was a good plan. Still is.…
Vomit Rock
Sunday 18th February I woke in the middle of the night (1223 actually) to the sound of violent vomiting. Three guys had rocketed up here yesterday, bypassing Camp Canada and no doubt feeling very pleased with themselves. If they were in fact pleased with themselves I’m pretty sure that disposition has dramatically changed. They are…
Nest of the Condor (Nido de Condores)
Saturday 17thFebruary The evening was still and mild when I went out at 0200. Well, as mild as an evening at 5000m can be. In the far, far distance on the horizon, a pale orange light. A high town perhaps in the general direction of Chile. The sky is clear but the recently set moon…
Oberon Fossicking
Fossicking, Gems, Oberon, Porters Retreat, Rubies, Sapphire Bend, Sapphires, TravelBy Bruce LymanLeave a comment
The galahs chitter away in their high pitched voices and in the distance the cockatoos draw their screeches out as long as they can. The distinctive crimson rosella chit chat has died away as the sun has shifted into its peach sheets. A pup yips and the other two or three dogs in Black Springs…
Multans Sultans – Taxi Story (Pakistan 3)
(I use my time in the taxi to practise my interview techniques. In so doing I suddenly realised I was uncovering some remarkable stories. Some are captured on my blog under the Taxi Story collection – click on link in right hand bar to see some of them). I’ve been in Australia for just five…
Kavithitis
Thursday 15th February I went to sleep at 2200 last night and woke at 0700 which is an excellent sign the acclimatisation is working. Not even a pee break in the middle of the night. It’s calm at 7am which is a good thing but the wind soon picks up and whacks the tent around.…
St Valentines in Canada
Wednesday 14th February . Its 1741 and we are all sitting around the table somewhat stupefied. Maybe it’s just a matter of regathering our strength. Or a matter of reflection, or both. We have climbed to Camp Canada, departing at 1100 on the dot, and ascending to 5150m, a total lift in elevation of 850m.…
Plaza de Mulas
Monday 12th February. A horrendous night with the bladder chasing me out of the tent every couple of hours. Bonus – the night sky. Double bonus – knowing I’m hydrated. It’s 7am and I’m listening to the camp murmur awake. Interestingly the temperature has plummeted since I was up before dawn. That’s a phenomena we…
Wile E. Coyote
Sunday 11th February. The night was still and mild – tested at 0300 when I stepped outside for a pee stop. It is always a remarkable thing in the mountains to realise the light, which is quite bright and sufficient to illuminate the inside of your tent, is cast by stars. Mountains in my experience…
Danilo
Saturday the 10th Dinner last night was also a good way to get to know some of our fellow travellers a bit better and the conversation with our new compatriots was a highlight. Kavitha was sitting next to Danilo, one of our three guides and found him to be very forthright and clear about the…
Eduardo
Friday 9th February The guide is Tonetti Guia de Montana, (otherwise known as Eduardo, or Edu (Eh-dooh) for short) which immediately brought to mind the line from The Princess Bride “Hello my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my Father. Prepare to die.” We wait for him now in the hotel foyer in a state of…
Spiderman
Thursday 8th February Spiderman is a tall bald chap from Brazil. He sports a spider tattoo’ed on the back of his skull. I’ll double check his name tomorrow (It sounded like Guido) but until then he is Spiderman. His team supporters are Jorge and Danilo. Jorge is an interesting chap introduced as a ‘wild man’…
Maximo
Wednesday 7th February There is a hard knocking on the door. Its 11 in the morning and we have just finished breakfast we purchased at the local Carrefour supermarket conveniently located around the corner. A tall lanky lad. Relaxed and fit. Lightly bearded with sunglass tan lines. Energetically introduces himself as Maximo, the expedition leader…
Patricio and Cicero
Tuesday 6th February We are due to launch at 1250 but don’t rotate with the usual roar until 1323. I should care less about such things given we have a five hour layover in Santiago before heading to Argentina. But it’s a warm Sydney day and the plane is a stuffy tube until we get…
Lessons from a Baby
William Wordsworth marvelled that he might learn from his toddler son. ’Could I but teach the hundredth part, Of what from thee I learn’ he wondered in “Anecdote for Fathers”. (It’s not his best work. In fact it’s rather droll, but then I find a lot of his stuff just so). We can learn all…
The Road to Broken Hill – Again
22 December 2017 We got away at 1505 which was pretty much when we planned to launch. The anticipated holiday traffic did not materialise, at last at that time of the day and we have a clear run tino the Blue Mountains, our only challenge to speak of being rain approaching Lithgow which slowed…
Headspace Visualisation – Aconcagua on our Mind and In our Eye
Aconcagua Diary: 30 December 2017 Even as I write this Dan (pictured) and Michelle are in Argentina and starting up the hill. We are very fortunate to have met them on our training track out of Berowra Waters. How unusual to have met someone planning the same expedition/adventure as we, and on the same track!…
Aconcagua – HeadSpace
Aconcagua Diary: 12 December 2017 In less than eight weeks we will be on the mountain. The training continues its regular beat and we were back out on the Berowra escarpments on the weekend, this time with fellow trekkers who are our regular walking companions (and fellow Kilimanjaro veterans). The mental game associated with the…
Aconcagua Diary – It Starts Here
Aconcagua Diary: 2 December 2017 The climb out of Berowra Waters is so familiar I could it traverse it in the dark but today it feels a little tougher than usual. The humid air drapes its wet blanket over us and slows us down. We are barely begun and the sweat slicks off my…
On to Pallisa
At each checkpoint we have asked the Police how to get to Pallisa, even though the maps show the route very precisely, and taking into account the scale of the map, very clearly. It is obvious that none of the police can read a map (one enthusiastic sergeant tried to decipher it upside down and…
The Ugandan Express Pardon
Yesterday we departed Nairobi at 1209 and rolled out to Eldoret. We had spent the morning touring Kibera, the slum famous for being the largest in Africa and for being, well a slum. For many it is a place of convenience as they come into town to work, Kibera offering a place of cheap accommodation.…
Back to Kenya
Saturday 4th February 2017 We are sitting on the tarmac at Abu Dhabi waiting to roll, listening to the guttural tones of Arabic interspersed with a posh English accent alternately run through the safety briefing. We have four hours and fifty minutes in a tiny A320 to look forward to. The jump from Sydney was…
Three Butterfish
Blue Steel Dash Expedition, Bush Walking, New Zealand, Stewart Island, TravelBy Bruce LymanLeave a comment
The day started around 2 or 3. I usually check the time when I wake but didn’t do so on this occasion. The hut is warm. Too warm and I am lying on my sleeping bag in a sweat. The boys and girls around me are sharing snoring duties. As one stops another starts, the…
Half a Rat
I barely wake through the evening and don’t hear the male and female kiwis that everyone else is talking about. Both sexes make raucous calls, but the female is especially disruptive, as we heard when we camped under our Rimu. Their combined cacophony had most of the group awake at 0600. As planned we were…
Zero Traction
This day is a mixed up one indeed. After our struggle through the night our timings are now messed up. The state of the track is so bad we have no confidence in our ability to get over to Masons Bay in the time we have allowed. We have walked in to the hut at…
One Loud (Female) Kiwi
There’s so much to this day it’s a bit hard to know where to start. Maybe it best to start at the end. And the end was a damp arrival at Freshwater Hut the day after this section of the track was supposed to be concluded. We had departed North Arm Hut at 0807 in…
Four Starlings
They sat sparkling on a powerline. Huddled together in the sun after a shower of rain had passed through. A fifth sat a little further off, like a barely tolerated younger sibling that could be oh-so annoying. Sitting above butter yellow gorse, against a green backdrop of fields that is so vivid we spent…
Multiple Memories
Stewart Island Journal November 11 . It’s a day in which to remember. To remember the fallen alright. Our glorious dead, though glorious only because of what they gave us. I wonder, if they ever are conscious of it, what their spirits make of that. A waste? A gift? Too much focus on glory and…
Six Foot Track
1 October 2016 The cleft in the sandstone lets us down off the bluff through sheer slab sides that drop away into the bush below. The knees protest at each step but we are distracted by the howling wind that bends and buffets the trees on the edge high above us even as…
China Changed My Life (Heart Disease)
Ten years ago today I landed in China with Ashley, Eric, Gail, Liz, Alex, Jeff, Narelle and a few others on a trip that changed my life. It’s hard to put into words exactly how that change came about. In fact I was unaware of the change until the last day when we are sitting…
Immersed in Hot Waters (Agua Calientes)
Machu Picchu Diary 10 July 2016 Our day has ended with dinner together. Trout again. The group split up today. Many climbed Huayan Picchu (that tall spike which is the familiar backdrop to the Machu Picchu site), but five of us begged off for various reasons. Kavitha and I woke early and got out into…
First Stuff Your Llama
Machu Picchu Diary 9 July 16 The stuffed llama standing on the terrace above me is a disappointment. “How does a UNESCO World heritage site stoop so low?” I wonder. Its stiff silhouette stares down at me for what seems ages as I make my way to the highest point we can find. Then the…
Zip Line
Machu Picchu Diary 8 July 201 The rain pattered on our tent through the night in that lullaby that nylon and water so often put together. I thought it might herald another wet day but I was awake at 0600 to a clear morning, a droplet decorated tent, the sound of roosters crowing and an…
Pig Under a Mango
Machu Picchu Diary 7 July 16 I am conscious next of the sounds of wings flapping and a rooster crowing. It seems like a pretty energetic bird until I realise that it’s Henry prowling our tents clapping his hands and crowing. It is a very good imitation and I can picture a rooster standing on…
Savage Mountain Pass
Machu Picchu Diary 6 July 2016 It’s 1830 and we are sitting around in our puffy jackets drinking sweet cocoa, eating popcorn and sweet pastry and reflecting on a remarkable day. We have just covered 27km, climbed 550m to cross the pass at 4602m (15,000’), dropped 1900m through ice and icey rain being driven sideways…
Soraypampa
Machu Picchu Diary 5 July 2016 The alarm goes off at 0400 but we have been awake prior to all the iphone alerts pinging off. No one really wants to get up but we stir ourselves into action and clear the room. I’m mildly surprised to see most of the group sitting around the common…
Sexy Woman
Machu Picchu Diary 4 July 2016 Sacsayhuaman (something like “sarc-say-wha-mahn”) is an Inca site above Cusco which we visited today. The team is mostly in good shape altitude wise and managed the 200m lift in altitude to this modest hill above the city without any drama. However some are still feeling a tinge green. Hopefully…
Cloud Mountains
Diary, 2 July 2016 Ana-Sofia has advised us that Cusco and the area we are trekking is not considered the ‘Andes’ (or Las Sierras) but rather the ‘Cloud Mountains’, an area or region that borders the Amazon jungle, but which features its own type of forest. That sounds good to me and besides, is suitably…
Ricky Baker
Machu Picchu Diary Friday 1 July 2016 1337 hours and the aircraft frame vibrates and shudders as the undercarriage, not designed to be aerodynamic in any way thrashes through the air below us. As the undercart is cleaned up over Botany Bay everything settles down and the slightly alarmed look on Kavitha’s face vanishes. We…
Prelude to Machu Picchu
For reasons that elude me now I failed to post my Kilimanjaro diary when we ascended that mound in 2014. As my thoughts now turn to the Salkantay Track and our walk up that path to Machu Picchu I dug out my diary/log from our previous expedition. My final entry is an interesting prelude to our…
NZ Alpine Course – Diary (March 2016) (1)
11 March It has been a long while since I have put pen to paper but travel, if anything is what will shake the muse loose. I usually observe something like this after a long break from writing and settling into an aircraft seat. This time I am pre-empting that moment. Sydney is oppressively humid…
When is a Minute’s Silence Not a Minute of Silence?
Nothing is ever silent. Ever. Except perhaps in space but I have no point of reference for that experience and so have no capacity to comment. There can be a stillness, but never silence. There is that moment that sluices into seconds and the feeling of a lifetime of ages when a zealot of some…
In the Land of Poutine…
A sly “would you like a taxi?” from a furtive looking Pakistani just outside the exit to Pearson International (Toronto). I like his style – he has parked himself underneath a sign warning visitors to ignore taxi touts. When I respond in the affirmative (we need a cab) he spins on his heel and beckons…
Hello Texas
Before the food cart drags itself up behind its vanguard aroma and I allow myself to be distracted by Jermaine Clement in ‘People Places Things’ I’ll jot a few notes in some sort of acknowledgment to penmanship I have neglected and which urgently needs resuscitating. And yes, that is ‘aroma’ which you read. It’s an…
Assimilation (or “Why I Support the Wallabies”)
I was a migrant. Past tense if you please. At some point you stop being a migrant and become a citizen. Not because of a piece of paper received from the government, but because you decide you are no longer a guest but rather a host. That you are not just part of the place,…
OXFAM 2015
The tide silently pushes still water into the upper reaches of the seeping grey green gloom of this gully. Snatches of froth and the occasional bubble betrays the silent upstream flow of water beside me. The ground is damp so footfall is muffled. That of my colleagues metres ahead is non existent save for the…
An Empty Japan
We have left the door to the balcony open and the humid morning air heats the room and tugs impatiently at the lace curtain that flicks around the settee. We are not feeling as pressed as the breeze feels we should be, and take an indolent start to the day. The sea is bright green…
Tropical Scruffy – not Your Average Japan
Planeloads of Korean and Chinese tourists pour into the customs and immigration area with us and we shuffle along looking decidedly out of place. We lack the designer tourist clothes, hats and sunglasses and don’t have any cute toddlers in pig-tails in tow. The large crowds at immigration mean there is no waiting for our…
Off to Okinawa
We are off to Okinawa. CX138, seats 47J and 47K. Well, these seats will get us to Hong Kong at least. The notes are scratched with a crayon I found in the pocket usually housing flight entertainment guides and other weighty tomes I rarely read anymore. It’s been a long time since I logged anything.…
ANZAC Ultra Marathon – 450km of Joy and Light
The air frizzed and hissed and for a moment I was forced to a stop as the air vanished in a flash bulb pulse of white light. Stopped in lashing rain straight out of God’s freezer as the accompanying crack and boom erupted around me and my eyes readjusted to the light. Not that there…
Are you Making a Difference?
Some old stone warehouses scattered across Kandahar are in surprisingly good state of repair given they were constructed by the British in the nineteenth century. The square masonry and precise lines catch my eye as does the stonework. But the slowly gathering crowd is watching us approach and I take my eyes off the building…
Ama Dablam Diary – Life on the Mountain
‘I was walking down to Pengboche. But it got dark too quickly and I got lost.’ ‘Lost?’ ‘Yes. At the bottom of that escarpment the track vanishes into that scrubland. I walked up and down the bank trying to find the bridge.’ ‘And?’ ‘I couldn’t find the bridge so I stayed out.’ ‘All night? Are…
Ama Dablam Diary – Death on the Mountain
A beautiful day and we get going around midday. In fact at 12:05 as I check my watch and do the slow snow shuffle over the flat towards the start of the track. We have been split into two teams. Group A is climbing to Advanced Base Camp at 17,600’ and will spend the night…
Ama Dablam Diary – It’s All About the Nana Nap
I feel like an indulgent sloth, having been told today is a rest day as part of our acclimatization. Okay I get that, but no climbing, no serious exertion. No rush to get out of bed in the morning. I only woke once during the night so that tells me how settled and warm I…
Ama Dablam Diary – Welcome to Base Camp
‘Where do I find those rocks?’ The Sherpa was groaning under the load of a heavy rock he was carrying towards one of the tents he was setting up. Under my feet is a kind of stumpy heather, alpine cushion plant of an indeterminate type (I need to bring a foliage reference next time –…
Ama Dablam Diary – Guest House Log Jams
The dark frosty night has eased off into grey and I slumber through the sounds of yaks on the track only a couple of metres from my window, resisting the clock and willing it to slow down. I am warm in this sack thank you very much. Our guest house is as rudely constructed as…
Ama Dablam Diary – Namche Bazar Respite
Bruce! Hey Bruce, over here. Bruce! Hey, up here. I have slowly walked up the main cobbled street into Namche and a steady cold rain is falling. At each minor intersection I pause and look around before fully committing to it. Old habits die hard but in this jumble of lanes and stone buildings it’s…
Ama Dablam Diary – Garden of Dreams Redux
Two days of gear checking, buying missing kit, buying better kit and so on until we arrived at last at the Garden of Dreams – that oasis discovered two years ago. I have introduced myself to my fellow climbers and am pleased to have finally met them. And I have introduced them to this place…
Ama Dablam Diary – Ghosts of Thamel
‘Been here before?’ she asked, in passable English as she thumbed through my passport. ‘Two years ago. I can’t stay away.’ She is unimpressed with my flattery and even more unimpressed with my out of date visa. I am about to be shuttled back to the end of a very long line. ‘It’s near the…
Ama Dablam Diary – Clearing Town
6 October 2014. I am looking at a pack that is not as tightly or comprehensively loaded as it could be , and at two smaller bags which I hope will withstand the rigours of yak travel for a month. Those two bags look deflated as well. I run the checklist again and, despite my…
Doing HR in Afghanistan
“Hi Sir, staff arrived safely at the RV”. So read the text that arrived late into the night, long after the neighbours kids have been put to bed (that has become my clock). And with that text a sense of relief. There is an HR dimension to Afghanistan I never really appreciated until I came…
Mind Your Head (And Your Prostate)
A journalist by the name of Foley was beheaded, the news of which swamped the fact that a foreigner was similarly treated on the main road to the airport in Kabul today. An event that has suddenly put everyone on their toes. But I had an appointment to have an ultrasound done. So off down…
Kabul Summer Evening Rooftop
The sun has finally dropped across the distant ridge in the west and suffused that part of the country in a peach wash that the camera fails to capture adequately so I have stopped trying. It’s a witching hour. Kites wobble high in the sky, some so startlingly elevated that I wait to see if…
The Devil’s Voice with an Angel’s Heart
The dusk is electric this Holy day evening of Ramadan. To the south the horizon dances with light as a dry storm flashes its skirts with light but makes no noise. Two hours after the fast is broken and the air is full of voices. The voices of mullahs chanting the broadcasts. A legion of…
My Neighbours
My neighbours? My neighbours are no different to your neighbours. Sure they live in a rabbit warren of mud roofed, grass sprouting houses all interconnected by covered walkways. Probably a bit different to the McMansion or Californian Bungalow or nondescript Australian Housing Estate Modern style over your back fence. But their kids play and shout…
Let’s Visit Taliban Central. Oh okay.
The Taliban conveniently announce the 12 May will mark their summer offensive kick off. Other reports and rumours underscore that date with hints of a big and signatory attack on Kabul, possibly the airport. Great. Goodonya. Thanks. I am flying out of Kabul on the 12th. I dropped off to sleep last night testing what…
Seven Steps to Security Serenity in Kabul
You can find humour anyhere. If you look for it. In fact in this place, to which we should ascribe ingrained sadness, there is a vein of light heartedness that everyone is so ready to tap. As friend Ray noted last week, these people are so quick to laugh and smile, unless and until you…
What Were You Thinking?!
Afghanistan now stretches out below me like an old brown blanket, little patches of squares hinting at villages made of those clay walled square compounds. We have quickly left the snow capped ramparts that surround Kabul. Two months ago the city was captive to blue white, but the rising temperature has quickly melted that away.…
Hair Trigger
As we roll into election week there is a fragility of life that stabs us every day, despite the so necessary ‘get on with living’ attitude that pervades this place. An attack yesterday – or was it the day before, it’s easy to lose track – on a guest house is applauded for its failure,…
Very Alive Today
I feel very relaxed getting about this town. But to be sure I am always looking. Even when I don’t know I am looking. We were creeping through traffic today and in my peripheral vision a vehicle going the other way suddenly stopped beside us, with a slight screech of rubber.
Between a Brick and Hard Step
I come up the stairs at the end of the day, negotiating a brick that is placed on the marble step least I step on a pattern that is remarkably akin the Arabic script for God, past the kitchen from which leaks the strange sounds of a woman singing over a crackly radio, and I…
Don’t Step on the Crack (Chance of Injury or Death. Or a Laugh)
Apparently the prospect, memory or concept of sex crosses the male mind every eight minutes on average. (Who measures these things? And how?) If ever there is a cure for the wandering mind it’s a four hour walk down a glacier in summertime, when crevasses are open, icy maws with white flecked palates and blue…
Hochstetter Traverse
I woke at first light, snuck out in the icey slap your face cold to the latrine, then snuggled back into the sleeping bag only to be told ten minutes later it was time to get up. Arrgghh.
Storm Warning – Ignored
The ink does not want to flow, while my hands are barely able to grip the pen. It’s zero degrees in the hut at the moment and snow drift has been blasted in and sits on the sill. Water in pots inside is frozen. Vapour blows from mouth and nostrils as I eat a breakfast…
Inside an Elysium Fridge
A storm smashes the hut an hour before our colleagues arrive back from the top of the Tasman Glacier where they have been doing crevasse and ice work. We are surprised that they were able to find their way in such a white out and had half expected them to make for the Tasman Saddle…
Rusty Ice
Alpine Climbing, Climbing (And Falling), Kelman Hut, New Zealand, Tasman Glacier, TravelBy Bruce LymanLeave a comment
The alarm went off far too early at 0600 but it was enough time to get me out the door and up to Tekapo by 0800. The drive from Timaru to Tekapo, where the climbing company I will spend the week with is based, is a reminder of how different we all are. Even though…
Anticipating a Fall
The last time I lined up to do alpine training I had no idea what I was getting myself in to. So, as best I recall I was quite sanguine about the whole thing. Now, with some appreciation of how difficult it might be, I am starting to feel the knot of anticipation wind up…
Orcs Be Here
The early morning call interrupted lurid dreams so bright they were my reality and despite the paucity of sleep I was glad to be awake. Four hours sleep was not enough and I could have easily rolled back into the borrowed bed. But we have seven hours of walking ahead of us on a loop…
Under a Natal Moon
I clear the airport at 0115 local time. It was 39 in Sydney when I left, it’s 11 degrees here. But as I walked towards the car hire lot I am aware of the stillness that seeps into me, a calm that washes through me for no explicable or discernible reason. It’s not the chill…
A Tale of Numerous Cities
The year has snuck up on me and like a magician has pulled something out of a small box my eyes tell me should not fit. It feels like weeks have passed and in the same synapse I wonder that it has felt like a decade. I am tempted to plagarise the cliché and offend…
What’s It Like Living in Kabul?
What’s it like living in Kabul I am asked? I have no idea really. The people in the old city live with no electricity or running water, walk miles to get to the markets and freeze in the depths of winter in their mud brick houses. Oh, you mean what’s it like for me to…
The Genie of Fez Goes Shopping
Othello sits on the edge of a fountain, his white thobe draped across his knees on which he has placed his outstretched hands, elbows locked. He gazes about as if in surprise, his dark eyes catching and reflecting his wonder. Above his white keffiyeh prancing horses rear out of a fountain, clearly confused about their…
A Night in Kabul
In the same way that Baghdad left me with the enduring image of ordinary folk trying to get on with their lives Kabul is impressing me with the same. Grandma wobbles through the mud on her pushbike. A mother hurries along the sidewalk. A boy wanders along adjusting his kameez, followed by a bear of…
Welcome to Afghanistan
My last night before heading to Kabul tomorrow On an airline that I don’t know owned by a government (or at least flagged by them – turns out it’s privately owned) which any number of ratbag elements would love to target. Of that I have no doubt. I have always wanted to visit this ‘great…
Mind How You Step
She has a round dark face that is more chipmunk cheeks than anything else, cheeks that prop up eyes that glitter with mischief. The narrow, high set benches means we squeeze in to sit down and she laughs at two tall guys struggling to fit in without knocking any else’s tea on the floor. She…
Nightclub Butterfaces
I’m not what you call a clubbing type. No, not seals on ice but nightclubs. I have no particular aversion to them, but neither have I ever had any particular attraction to them. I do regret not being in one in Elizabeth in 1980. Or was it Gawler? Fozzie leapt for the wagon wheel chandelier…
Longonot – With or Without a Necklacing
While we eat our cornflakes as the sun comes up, and wonder where our colleagues are, at the end of the street two thieves stand among a crowd of excited neighbours and a collection of security guards. They are two of four the guards have caught. They are not running anywhere. To start with the…
Hell’s Gate
The day is clear and warm. On the lee of the escarpment and under the canopy of tall trees the humidity is a light flush on the forehead but no more. A perfect day no less. By the time we reach Naivasha, an hour out of town we have left the cosy climate of Nairobi…
They Walk Among Us
There is a creeping awareness this week that we Australians, for all our fretting about porous borders ( a lot of nonsense) have it just way too good. I have always known that of course. On one occasion my return to Australian soil after a precarious adventure was so emotional I wanted to do ‘a…
Nairobi Brunch
It’s a quiet Sunday and after a slow start I decide to walk to the nearest shopping centre. A walk can only be a good thing after last nights festivities. The rest of the house is not stirring. The day is clear and burning hot, something I had not really noticed under the shade of…
Early Morning Jog in Nairobi
Imagine a series of low rolling, heavily vegetated ridges radiating out from the city centre. They parallel each other as best they can but like spokes they are forced gradually apart. Roads run along the crown of each, houses sit off the road and then gardens and forest fill the gullied gaps. In many sections…
A Chip off the Old Block
The moon washes a glittering city in its milk yellow light as we wind up and wind up and wind up and roll and roll until the wingtips lift and the wing straightens up and the fuselage of this 400 tonne behemoth settles into its load carrying wings. And as it does my breath catches…
What Good is Your Network?
More directly, what is your network? A bunch of people you have fleeting or other connections with, hooked up by coffees, or more ephemerally, via an image and a bio stored in someone else’s server? And if so what merit does it have? Is it there so you can admire the fruits of your labour?…
Ferry at the top of the Garden (Day 8)
We wake to silent, floating, heavy snow, and pick our way through a couple of inches of laid down flakes from our accommodation to the visitors centre across the road. A bacon and egg roll and a hot coffee made by someone else seems like a perverse luxury but it stops no one at all.…
Softly Battered (Day 7)
We aimed for a 7.30 start and were on the track by 0740. Heads down into a smashing wind right from the beginning. The first leg was only five kilometres but it was across open moor along an exposed ridgeline and that nor’wester hammered us as hard as it could. I watched pack covers ahead…
Waterfalls at Every Height (Day 6)
I woke a couple of times through the night and listened for the rain on the roof. Nothing. Only fog at 0300 as I stand in the silence in bare feet on the path just up from the hut. Snow is forecast for the next two days, so says one of the trekkers who landed…
A Short Pelion (Day 5)
We have had two long days. Seventeen kilometres followed by eighteen kilometres. The weather was kind to us on day one with only light rain. But yesterday ‘occasional showers’ clearly meant ‘it will rain steadily for 24 hours apart from a ten minute break which will not be the same ten minutes in which you…
Hello Kia Ora (Day 4)
I surface every now and then and listen to the driving rain on the tin roof. Inside the hut our breath blew billows of fog the evening before – this sleeping area, even with the stove on would be only three or four degrees. But I am snug in my sleeping bag and hope everyone…
Reflective Narcissus (Day 3)
Everyone is up and ready to go and we are under way, crunching into the bush by 0740 . We were aiming to be gone by 0700 but it takes a while to shake down routines and I am relaxed about the timetable. After all, as I remind the group, we are not on a…
Fair St Clair (Day 2)
The lights snap on forty five minutes prior to our arrival and the tannoy announces we will disembark by 0630. Now, what deck was I parked on again? I head downstairs to the car deck just in case I need to be there – better early than late I figure. And just as well, as…
Heading to the Overland Track (Day 1)
My seat jostles like an old man anxious to get his bet on the race before it’s too late – tapping and jigging and hopping about in time to the engines deep in the heart of this steel beast. The swell starts to gently pull us across the dance floor and we sway from side…
The Genie of Fez goes shopping for Nutmeg
There are those who follow the prophet Isa. They are fortunate to do so for he is a powerful prophet indeed, whose power lies even in his name. You think that is too simple a magic? Perhaps it is, perhaps it is. I like a good joke at least once every day, twice if I…
The Desolation of Singapore
I love Singapore. And loath it at the same time. The love is grounded in all that has been achieved here, the entrepreneurial spirit and all those reasons which every observer admires and on which more commentary has been made than can ever be read. The loathing is more personal I think.
I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light. ― Helen Keller
Balu ushered me to the vehicle in bit of a rush. Balu? Was that really his name? I truly hoped it was though he did not have any easy going, saxophone loving idleness about him which his namesake showed. This short fellow, in a drab brown shalwar kemeez that failed to hide the fact that…
Taliaban Bullets….Welcome to Pakistan
I arrive in the Airbus and my South Asia expectations (born of deep experience) about a crush and rush to the front are quashed. I feel slightly undersold. What’s with these people being so polite and deferential to each other? This is very Javanese of them I think. Since when were these guys so docile?…
Exporting a Bogan or Two
(Language warning!) They’re sitting in the seats behind me. 76J and 76K in the 380. One is wearing shorts and a ‘wifebeater’. It went something like this, in loud voices used to projecting over the sound of the dogs on the back of the grinding ute. My laptop was on my knee so I made…
A Scraped Knee a Spiritual Experience?
You betcha. In the inelegant scramble to haul over the edge of a two meter overhang, sections of pelt were left on the sandstone, and down an indented shin the claret seeps. You don’t notice the latter until the hot water of the shower hits the skin that evening and startles you awake.
That Which Does not Kill You – Makes You a Cox’s Orange
I wrap up at SIMaid tomorrow and wonder that the last week of April should mark the anniversary of so much that has happened over the last year. Most of it (not SIM I hasten to add) has been stuff I would not have scripted into the fabric of the life of my worst enemy…
Dhaka Carnival
I was thinking of Herbert Money this evening as I picked my way through the smokey warm dark evening of a boisterous Dhaka street. He wrote home in 1927 from Peru recounting his delight at being witness to a revolution in the streets as a President was told he was no longer needed. Actually I…
Listening to the Rice Grow
Apparently the French had a saying that went something like “the Vietnamese sow rice, the Cambodians watch it grow, the Laotians listen to it grow.” I think they were onto something there. This place is nothing like any other Asian city I have been to. It’s actually not a city in that sense and long…
Casablanca
The words fingered into the dust of the battered little Renault van in front of my taxi in from the airport suggested this was going to be a very different place from Algiers. Not that I go around looking for differences. In fact the reverse is true. But “Lord of the Rings” above an exhaust…
The Genie of Fez
The Genie from Fez strode the streets, enjoying the morning and pretty much minding his own business, which he had to do given he was from out of town, when he noticed a man and his donkey nestled into a driveway in Rue Rouget de I’Isle. The donkey was hitched to a small cart into…
Birds of A Feather
Rooster and Cockerel lived in a bachelor pad on the heights above Algiers. Though very much the same they were in fact two very different beasts living in the same town. At six o’clock every morning Rooster would drag his tattered tail out onto the balcony. He had no idea where Mecca might be located…
Walking the Casbah
There was a canary called Farouk. He sat in the window behind a dirty curtain installed when the French were in control and trilled his song across a filthy narrow lane three stories above the cobbles. Three tenements down his trill was answered by another, though Farouk did not know his name. Farouk was a…
Welcome to Algeria
Ha, now I know I’m alive – this place is more edgy than sleepy old Verdun. Taxi at the airport? No such thing. Just Boris the Bullet Dodger and all his dodgy mates in their little, dusty Chevrolets. Yes, Chevrolets. More Cevy compacts than tiny French cars. How much to the city? Francais? Nah mate.…
Farewell Verdun
The thermometer at the front of the bus says its five degrees but I could care less really. I have just realized we are driving down the Voie Sacree or Sacred Way on the way to Bar le Duc, places I have referenced in the novel. The Sacred Way became such when Marshall Petain established…
Souville
The old man picked his way up the long road from Verdun. He skirted mules carrying bread, horse drawn wagons full of supplies, the endless procession of coughing munitions trucks and the equally endless procession of ambulances creeping back the other way. No one tried to stop him. He had been here before and they…
Verdun – and A Girl with a Map
Never trust the directions of a woman armed with a map. Especially do not trust her if she is behind the counter of the city’s tourist bureau counter. Just walk up here, through there, cross there and you will be at the Verdun Memorial. Oh, by the way everything is closed in January. Of course…
Haudainville
‘Haudainville?!’ exclaimed Fred of Verdun. ‘There’s nothing there.’ ‘Well, I have a farmer set out from there in a story I have written.’ ‘Really?’ He laughs. ‘I happen to know some farmers in Haudainville. But there is still nothing there.’ Well, yes and no. There is the beginning of a story there and I want…
Fred of Verdun
It only takes ten minutes or so and we are in open country. I am mildly surprised. Though how open is hard to say since it is still dark . But we are running fast through cuttings and against the first hint of light I see the outlines of winter trees. As we roll towards…
Back to France
I am in Gare L’Est, a significant point in the novel I started writing ten years ago, Ironically it’s where I am to catch my train up to Verdun and was not a place I was planning on visiting. But here I am in a coffee shop lost in its cavernous halls, drinking crap coffee…
What Goes Up Must Come Down – Until Next Time
The previous evening the snow started in just before six thirty, and just as three others hove into view in the saddle below the hut. They struggle through the knee deep snow and we symapthise and put the kettle on then start into our own dinner. Wolfgang cooks up a mean stir fry but as…
Taking a Step when You Shouldn’t
Fear is in the pit of my gut fed by tidbits of “What ifs” that are impossible to repel. What if I lose my footing? My balance? What if the snow slope gives way (the avalanches on Middle Peak crack and rumble across the valley from us and we watch the snow and rock cascade…
You Peak Bagger You
I have been freaked out!! All day. Along knife edges. Up ice and rock. More knife edges. One preceded by “if you have to choose, fall right not left. If you fall right you are less likely to die.” He was serious. Heck, so was I. I actually started the day marveling at the teal…
Mind Over Matter Over Ice
I slept well though under the shadow of a migraine. Altitude and hard work and my dreams are vivid and ridiculous and I turn through the night to get away from them. We cracked a window to ensure we didn’t suffocate and I enjoyed the cold air blowing over my face although we rose to…
Up from Ball Hut
Well if you have to continue in Hillary’s steps (I use the word ‘continue’ with considerable license – I was in Nepal earlier in the year, Ed’s second home) then this is the place to come. He practiced on a regular basis from the Ball Hut and that’s where we got going from today. We…
A Conversation with Joanna
Well here I am again. No, don’t get up, two visits in less than two years is not that unusual. Okay, I did commit to coming back earlier though, so forgive me my tardiness. I ran down here this morning from Tekapo and have arrived to a gorgeous clear day, though there is a forecast…
In the Footsteps of Edmund Hillary
There has to be a better title than that but that pretty much sums it up. Sir Ed allegedly got the climbing bug when he climbed up to the Mueller Hut located in the Mount Cook National Park – or whatever it was then. So Steve and I thought we would have a crack at…
Daily Telegraph Interview – Flowers of Baghdad
Daily Telegraph ‘Flowers of Baghdad’ interview appeared 20 September 2012. Follow the White Rabbit below (!) to get the whole article.
Adelaide Advertiser Review of Flowers of Baghdad
It’s short, but in praise… Malik is an Iraqi shirt salesman determined to believe in his country despite the violence tearing it apart. Aadil is a former army offi cer driven by poverty and anger to build electronic detonators for a group of insurgents he hopes is using his devices to fight the Americans, rather…
No So Tough Mudder
There is a whole lot of nonsense out there about Tough Mudder. Is it tough? Really tough? No. Not really. 20km, or 19km or whatever the actual distance is, is 19km or 20km. If you are ready for it you are ready for it. Is there anything here not done before? In this case no.…
Very hungry, very poor, very hungry baby (Yeah right!)
Every day in another culture offers the frisson of adventure, even if it is merely based on the fact that I am out of my own. Every day there are such a host of peculiar and unusual things going on the heart and mind are continually refreshed with that sense of wonder we too easily…
16 Hours on an Indian Track
Dahl baht and rice looks pretty much the same at either end of the digestive tract. It’s delivered on a silver tray in some sort of order. Delivery at the other end is another matter altogether. At Saugauli Junction train station it seems to me that the vast majority of everyone’s Dahl baht is sprayed…
A Book, That Book, Any old Book
It’s finally more than a cover concept and more than a pile of draft manuscripts that stand more than 30cm high. What do I think of that? I suspect I might be like a father who is indifferent to the birth of his child – there is something unnatural about that and not to be…
Some Things I Probably Should not have Done – But am Glad I Did
(not an exhaustive list by any measure) Spoken to those two Russian women on that bridge in Paris. Who were they really and who did they actually work for? But, my goodness, they were gorgeous.
(22) Amen and Amen
And so it ends. I have clamped the emotion down and I distract myself with work emails and book launch details and diary commitments that I need to be thinking about over the next month or more. But then, just before we are due to leave for the airport (to Kathmandu) Lila appears out of…
(21) Pokhara Unwind
I wake at ten minutes to five and get up to check the weather. It’s not raining but the clouds are hanging around the hills. There is a 50/50 chance that we will see the snow covered peaks surrounding Pokhara, many of which we have just spent more than two weeks circumnavigating. Everyone tells us…
(20) Last Leg
I am sitting down by the river – our Gandaki dragon friend which is is not as violent as we saw it yesterday but it still snorts and roars and I stay clear of its bank. Everyone else is still in bed. The valley is dark and cool but the sun is dipping the tips…
(19) How Has This Day Pleased Thee?
Let me count the ways. A knock on the door at 5.25am and I think its one of the team playing a practical joke, even though in the same instant I think that I can’t imagine any of them up at this hour. But it’s Lila who is announcing ‘mountain view’ (though in my sleepy…
(18)Led Down a Garden Path
We wake to sunlight streaming in, and Marpa gains a more positive hue, the sun also helped in part by our beaming host who startles me with her excellent English and an expression of appreciation for our staying in her tea house. ‘If you trekkers did not come to my town I would be very…
(17) Down and Out in Marpa
The light, but driven rain taps a distracting tattoo on the glass and smears the view of the river flats which fan out below me. This is the mighty Kali Gandaki Nadi, a tame and gentle beast over these stones and gravel, allowing careful petting as I ford it later in the day, but a…
(16) Get Down and Get Medieval
It’s 6am in Muktinath and the town is already moving. School kids across the road are already dressed and are joshing about as school kids do. There is plenty of horseplay underway as I walk out on to the street. I ignore them and climb up above the town and am reminded by my lungs…
(15)You all Pass (With Full Marks)
I wake at 0250 and am pleased there is no rain on the roof. The same was the case at midnight when I was able to look across this vast valley and see the ridge of rock that dominates this town. I am pretty much packed and ready to go but need to allow a…
(14) Yakkity Yak, Don’t Come Back
(With apologies to the Coasters – check iTunes if you don’t know). We start out of Yak Kharka up a gentle rise, the track treating us easy. And yes, I hope we don’t come back. But we are at a height where I have to mentally prepare myself for the possibility of returning here with…
(13) Eight Days Walking
Writing here from Yak Khaka with fingers tingling – probably something I need to watch given it is apparently a first symptom of problems with altitude. Or so I thought – it’s actually a side effect of the dioxin I was taking. We’re now at 13,218 feet in yak country and higher than Mr Cook,…
(12) And God Rested on the Seventh Day
And so did we. After a fashion. The plan is to spend two nights here at Manang (at 11’614 feet) to aid in the acclimitisation process. But there is a 1500’ climb we will do here as part of our ‘climb high sleep low” strategy. But we have woken to steady rain and getting everyone…
(11) The Road to Perdition (Manang Actually)
Well, if we thought we had it tough yesterday we were put through the grinder today. Those who have wide trekking experience found it as arduous as anything tackled anywhere else. Those new to the game wondered what the heck they were doing here. Actually there were moments when we all wondered what the heck…
(10) The Climb to Pisang is not a Piece of Pisang
We follow the river out of Chame, starting at a respectable hour though not at the start time the guide urges on us. Some of the team would struggle with a regimental sergeant major cracking the whip with the clock. I remind some of them that we need to respect the guide’s daily timetable but…
(9) Into the Misty Mountains
‘Come visit my home’ roared Gimli (Chris S). ‘Here we will feast on venison and drink mead until we are sated’. ‘In your dreams. There’s no way I’m climbing in to mountains to party with your bearded women’ piped up Sam (Peter G). ‘Give me that magical lembas anytime. By the way, what are those…
(8)The Fragrance of Mule Droppings
Really? Okay, fragrance might be overdoing it a bit. But this is a major trading route and we are on Highway Number 1 through the Tal Valley. Actually it’s the only highway. We are passed by teams of mules loaded with all manner of tightly strapped down goods. At one point we get caught behind…
(7) A Kind King
‘Centuries ago there was a kind king’ says Lila, our guide, as he sips his mint tea and gazes down on the village below us. Smoke rises from one or two stove pipes. It’s early, about 5.30am. I was up at 5 and having a quiet poke around when Lila appeared around the corner. He…
(6) The Road to Besisihar is Paved with Good Intentions
At least its paved. Though you might be forgiven for thinking such was not the case if you close your eyes and attempt a nap. It’s not uncommon to be thrown out of your seat and to be airborne. I watch the face of the driver in his rearview mirror when that happens – the…
(5) What Happens in Kathmandu Stays in Kathmandu
It sure does. Which is why its so important to get up here. There is nothing back home that equates to the sort of experiences you can immerse yourself in here. Walk up the empty streets at 6am and meet folk getting their day underway.
(4)When in Kathmandu..Stick with the Popcorn
The popcorn seller was a mildly spoken man and seemed overwhelmed by the crowd of people standing around trying to work out what his collection of spices and condiments were all about. But he and his fellows are popular in the street and it only takes a few minutes to work out what he charges…
(3) Annapurna – Departure Day
The day starts early. My usual routine is an alarm call at 0530 each day. So, despite hoping for a sleep-in until 7am, I wake just before the alarm has a chance to prod me and lie awake for 5 minutes before I realise I’m not going to go back to sleep.
(2) Annapurna D-2
Well, here we go. The diary starts. I always have to start these things with a reminder that I need to capture as much introspection as possible. Otherwise they can turn into something tedious and fail to reveal anything new to anyone, including myself. So lets start there shall we?
Taxi Driver – Vanuatu
The taxi driver was a short round chap, half asleep and lying reposed in the window of his beaten up little Suzuki van. And it was surely a wreck with little to commend it other than at midnight it was going to save us a walk in the rain back to the hotel. We stepped…
So What Makes an Author?
I attended a cocktail party recently and enjoyed a range of conversation with various folk involved in the publishing game. I liked the fact that the 41 year veteran from the mail room (I suspect there is more to the story than just that) was there and mingling.
(1) When the Going Gets Tough…
When the going gets tough, the tough get going. When I first read that in a school magazine (relating, I believe, to the then athletics captain, a diminutive chap, whipping Xavier in some long distance race) I was taken at how pithy it was. I then discovered over a period of time that it is…
Poor Options
Its hard to believe more than a decade has passed since I was here last. It only seems like yesterday that I was bashing through the traffic of Dhaka behind a certain Mr Chowdary (their equivalent of “Smith” it seems) who was anxious to jam as many fleeting business meetings as possible into the time…
Notes in the Dark
0225hrs. A character in Baghdad reflected that his true place of worship was in his own mind, in the quiet on the top of his own house, not in the mosque. Here he was content and most close to God; where he felt God was less judge and more sympathetic creator. And in tune with…
Stay Out of the Sun!
Just follow the boundary fence. You’ll come to a dam at the far end. The track we were on yesterday should come off that. Righteo. Actually, that briefing proved to be flawed. Expecting the track to loop around the property I found myself at the end of a long ridge, and the end of a…
It’s the Hunt that Counts
“Just follow the boundary fence. You’ll come to a dam at the far end. The track we were on yesterday should come off that.” “Righteo”. I fired up the motor bike and headed off, up a track that was less track and more scrub in most places. I puttered along for a few clicks. It’s…
A Motley Collection
Who are my fellow travellers? An interesting bunch. A family of six aboriginal children who jump and jive, whose twinkle in their eye hint at a suppressed joie de vivre, at least for the purpose of the trip. A part time goth that looks like she could use a good feed. Part time because her…
Heading Up Country
I can’t recall the last time I was on a coach. Possibly the Greyhound from Philly to New York a few years ago. Now that was a zoo of a trip… This is far less tense and crowded. The traffic is light and we make it out to the flat northern suburbs quickly, rolling along…
Dead Centre of Adelaide
The sun just coming off the morning horizon is slanting directly down the length of Adelaide’s main streets in one of those movie angles that is supposed to warn us that something prehistoric or alien will be stalking out of the brightness any second now. But no one is around.
Tintin and Girls
When I finished primary school I spent the Christmas holidays in breathless anticipation of two things which High School held out for me – an expanded audience of girls and a library. Girls? Go figure why the mind of a twelve year old would seethe so.
My Bed is a Gift
Last week I was a little startled to hear a pastor (not ours by the way) tell some of his parishioners they had to lie in the beds they had made for themselves. Actually I was very startled. I wonder from where in the Bible he was drawing this? If God worked on the principle…
A Silk Purse Out of a Sows Ear
A condensed amalgam of a number of conversations on Saturday afternoon… “Let’s pitch here.” “Ah, let’s not, if it rains we will get flooded out. Actually, when it rains…”
Too Tough For Words
I have no idea how to write this up so I guess I’ll do what you always do when confronted by that challenge – just write. I had avoided calling Ryan’s family figuring they would contact me when they were ready. Turns out they had lost their phone and were worried they had lost touch.…
Self Diagnosis is a Dodgy Business
What the heck am I doing out here? Instinct drove me out here I think. Bugger all else comes to mind. Some sort of self help intuition that says getting out here might assist. Who knows if it will or not? Its true the extrovert in me recharges by being around others. I am not…
Eight Saints and a Penis
Last week I sat in a lawyer’s conference room. The décor was clinic white, all the better to show off their art collection, two pieces of which caught my wandering eye (it was a lawyers conference after all and the first rule of listening to lawyers is that you don’t have to listen to lawyers,…
Cheek by Jowl
Follow on from Knot in Stomach It’s a natural reflex to want to hug someone in distress. I struggled with that response when dealing with the toddler a couple of days ago. His face was so banged up, bruised and bloody and impossible to touch. Yet when someone, especially a child, hurts you want to…
Knot in My Stomach
A postscript to “Blood in my Mouth” It’s the following day and I have walked around with a knot in my stomach, been flippant at work and not very productive in general. Sorry. In the past I have done a reasonable job of keeping my emotions in check but in this case I have decided…
Blood In My Mouth
The blood in my mouth is not my own. The dry steel tang of iron was coughed and spluttered into mine by a three year old with brown tousled hair as he sat in his restrainer seat. Thank goodness for those seats. His mouth was clogged with blood and he was spitting it everywhere. He…
The Stark Reality
Twenty years ago this year we moved our family back to Queensland, this time just creeping over the border to Ipswich rather than living in the far north which was almost like moving to another country altogether. A highlight for me was to be working with the F-111 bomber aircraft at 6 SQN. But an…
Stay Insane – All of You
Sunday How disappointing it is to be doing this final run home. We are all reflective about how we feel about that, resigned to the work and study that has to be done but still riding on the magic of the last week and the intimate camaraderie that we have enjoyed. The run was straightforward…
His Majesty’s Pleasure
I heard an interesting challenge propositioned to a gathering yesterday. In the movie Chariots of Fire the character playing Olympic gold medal winner Eric Liddell is trying to assure his fretting sister he remains committed to his call to China. He tells Jenny “I believe that God made me for a purpose. But He also…
IT Company Keeps a Promise?!
So you think I am writing fiction? Maybe I am. But something went pear shaped with this blogsite when I was in Africa. The more I chased the problem the worse it seemed to get. Introduce these guys who said they would check it out (even though it was not their problem) and twenty minutes…
Penultimate Day
Bulyninnie Station, Cobar, Country Towns, Friendship, Road Trip, Shooting, TravelBy Bruce LymanLeave a comment
SaturdayOur departure day last year was marked by a lashing southerly wet wind blowing out of the Antarctic fridge, forcing us to huddle our farewells to Joy before hitting the road and sliding up the greasy track out of here. No such day to day. A gorgeous sunny, mild morning greets us. Rod has sorted…
Flat Out Like a Lizard Drinking
Friday The sun creeps up the wall through the pattern of the window frame shadow and I watch it for twenty minutes before getting up. Andrew has been awake the whole time but remained in his sleeping bag until my feet touched the floor at which point he launched into his new day. Last night …
Things That Go Bump in the Night
Thursday. Damn. Thursday already. The place is slowly, oh so slowly stirring into life with the soft rumble of the kettle, the scratching whisk as Rod makes up the powdered milk for the day, the vacant slurp of cereal as the first half asleep (actually mostly asleep) crew ease down at the table and start…
It’s Only the Depth that Varies
Wednesday The grey cloud and still morning suggested rain but nothing of the sort. Instead the wind sprung up and whipped its cold arms around us from breakfast time on. Joy had rounded up a merino the night before and it was waiting for us after breakfast – a lesson in butchery which most were…
Jim’s Invitation
(A piece written earlier this year). I had not written to Jim, that I could recall, for him to ever send me anything in return. More to the point he passed away in 1980 so I thought the spidery scrawl on the expensive, semi translucent wedding paper envelope was some sort of prank. I…
I’ll Do Anything*
Tuesday The Milky Way washed its billion star light over us last night, unchallenged by any fading moon. What a remarkable sight that catches our imagination every time we come out into the desert. But it is was a cool night without any cloud cover, threatening frost but not quite getting there as the wind…
Let’s Do the Time Warp
Monday Up at o’dark o’clock. Crystal clear morning, steel coloured sky and fading stars. No frost but the breeze is up. I load up and head out looking for yabbie bait and something for the pot this evening. The search is futile and the team is gathered here at the end of the day cooking…
Farm Orientation
Sunday Morning It’s dark and the sound of light snoring drifts through the old stone house. Every now and then a sleeping bag rustles as a body shifts. The rain has eased but the wind is up and the percussion on the tin roof continues. I guess its about 5 o’clock and get up and…
On the Road Again
Saturday Evening The thrumming flames wrest heat from damp wood and start to get serious about radiating. Bedding lies scattered around the floor in front of it, owners all in the kitchen area taking note of the brief on arrival which went something like “If Bruce is happy, you are all happy”. And the quickest…
Congenital Heart Disease
My heart is swollen with the Pulmonary joy of friendship Threatening to Rupture and disarm me.
He is an Old Cat
He is an old cat Shrinking every day Into his baggy black Suit of knobbly bone and Matted fur.
Heart on a Cold, Wet Sleeve
I have just come out of the bush after three wet days. Though in all truth when you can see the lights of towns on the distant ridges when the cloud lifts there were moments when I felt a little cheated – if you go bush you should go “remote”. But being in the bush…
Taxi Driver (Kenyan – in Kenya)
Good morning. Are you going up country? Sure am. Not many who are doing that at this time of the morning. He laughs. True enough. Most are heading into the city at this time of the morning. We should have a clear run up the highway. I hope this does not sound rude but I…
Who Really Needs a Sparkplug?
Last night the prowling African cats kept me awake for a long time. There is nothing to strike fear into your heart quite like the sound of – a mangy cat with a chicken bone stuck in its throat. Cat in Shrek came to mind with his cough. Kack, kack, kack… I would have thrown…
Meet the Future of Sudan
We suggested (an important word) that our boat crew be on the bank at 5.30 for the return trip. To our surprise they chugged to a stop at 5.35. Not so surprising was the fact that we had some extra passengers. You grab whatever lift you can around here. A girl about 18 and a…
Hibiscus Infusions in Melut
After shaking off my arbor instructor and his insistent “write it down” I piled into the runabout with Russell and some of the lads for a run to Melut (meh-loot) about an hours north of travel. There are no roads so it’s the best option. Pretty much the only one actually. But the wind is…
Stay in the Mind
Where did I get to before I was distracted by the hippo? Church service… one of the lads took us to his family compound afterwards and to his tukel. We sat in there making polite conversation, the only light being that which threw in from the door. As you might expect in this part of…
Inquisitiveness or Foolishness?
How can I begin to tell you how good today has been. With apologies to the Bard “let me count the ways”. The sun has been gone only twenty minutes or so but that old cliché about darkness falling fast in Africa is true. The arms are click with sweat and mozzie repellant as I…
A Dinka Start to the Day
I woke from a lucid dream of trying to fit level guttering on curved Dr Suess houses – and laughed. I had spent yesterday putting guttering on a building that had some “level challenges”. There is a hint of blue sky and the breeze is down a little but it is decidedly cool. Armed only…
Would you Like Some Mud in Your Hair? Yes Please.
I have forgotten how stifling a mozzie net is. If there is any puff of air out there it is obliterated by the net. At the end of a windy day there is no breeze and I lie in the open stripped right off (sorry sensitive reader) leaking more sweat than water drunk today, of…
A Drum’s Journey
A 44 gallon drum is manufactured in the USA in a highly automated production process that sees no human involved, from the arrival of the rolls of steel to the packaging of the empty drums onto pallets. Only when the pallets need to be loaded on to trucks does a human appear, in the form…
The Workshed
The breeze I was looking for last night is here this morning, cool and steady, stirring up the reeds along the riverbank and creating a noisy chop on the river. There is nothing to hint at the 40 degrees to come. There is no one about as I park on the bank and watch the…
My Name is Wal
Our resort on the banks of the Nile is a small compound about 25 by 25 metres. It is hedged by a stick fence, mostly falling down though on the outside there is a jumble of thorn bushes as an extra layer of deterrence. Integrated defence some might call it. Peter, already introduced, keeps the…
Thiangrial
(As I tap this out in the back blocks of Sudan from my hand written notes I see it is 4.45pm on Sunday and the Writers Group will be wrapping up their monthly session – writing, worlds apart in so many different ways). Ribbons of black streaks stain the grasslands below, the result of burning…
206 to Thiangrial
If pilots pray before they take off with passengers then I guess they usually keep it to themselves. Not this guy. He gives a safety briefing which is thorough and practical and before he climbs in prays. What does that mean about the prospects of the flight? Well, given it is AIMAIR it means we…
Permission to Travel in the World’s Newest Country
For the first time in my life I have a certificate that says I am allowed to travel. Everything up to now must have been illegal or fraudulent. I have travelled under all sorts of labels in my time, some genuine, some creatively spurious but this is the first time I have worn the label…
Awake at Sparrows
I woke to the sound of roosters and flew in an instant to villages along the Kokoda Track. And then laughed to myself as I recalled trying to explain to a Japanese friend what the phrase “to wake at sparrows” meant. Some things just do not translate. All the Australians in the group were rolling…
Dead set, this is Nairobi
Welllllcohm, wellllllcohm. Hospitality is a hallmark here. They shake hands over and over and seem glad to see you, a long lost friend even though just met, rolling their tongues over the “l” as if tasting it. They are interested in knowing who you are, smiling and nodding and committing to a long drawn out…
Taxi Story – the Kenyan
Waiting outside Nairobi airport. An earlier made friend called Peter walks up in the company of another chap I have never seen., who holds out his cell phone and says by way of introduction: Here you go, talk to this man. Who? (And who are you?) The person on the end of the phone knows…
Welcome to Kenya
The first hint at what sort of airport you are going to find comes as the undercarriage touches the tarmac and the nose wheel anticipates doing something similar in a few seconds time. We rush past a couple of dumped Soviet cargo aircraft (An-24s, or were they 26s? I blinked.), a Lockheed L110 and three…
Dubai Airport
I have seen some in my time but I think this one is a favourite. Airports that is. Not because it glitters (Changi does a better job of that) but because it is such a melting pot. It gives true meaning to the word “exotic”. Two lads are trilling with excitement in the coffee shop…
Abdulluh the Hutt – my Sudan Prebriefer
The mood lighting has come on and I perceive through gritty eyes I have been asleep for about ten hours. That can’t be right. I fumble around and check the flight information and see we are only two hours out from Dubai. Though I also see the aircraft is located somewhere over Auckland, at 40,000…
Taxi Story – Chinese
(I use my time in the taxi to practise my interview techniques. In so doing I suddenly realised I was uncovering some remarkable stories. Some are captured on my blog under the Taxi Story collection – click on link in right hand bar to see some of them). Hey, you know my son is very…
Berowra: Leaving the Big Smoke for Real Smoke
The moon gives up and sinks its visible half into a red bed then vanishes altogether. As I watch, the Milky Way slowly becomes more milky as the sky deepens, highlighting more and more heavenly lights. I’m on my back on a rock ledge and quite comfortable thank-you. As I gaze up a couple of…
Leaving Lima – and a bit of my heart
(Diary 15 Nov 2010) I am sure they sound erudite and clever to each other but the two German ladies , otherwise quite well presented, are through half a bottle of white and have knocked off half a bottle of duty free Drambuie. I am surprised they are still sitting upright. It is one form…
Cultural Gaffe (one of many)
The local grocery store in Washington DC is like a modern museum – not because it is full of old stuff but because it is full of wonders. I meander the aisles, cutting from side to side looking at the variety of goods and am amazed and a little confounded at, inter alia the variety of…
Who Are You and What Are you Doing to Me?
I prefer to travel on my own. It’s safer. I can respond to my own instincts and not have to try and explain what I am doing or why I am doing it. I know my limits. I see events unfolding and can either avoid or engage them, usually with plenty of time on my…
Museum of a Dusty Mind
The National Museum of Archaeology, Anthropology and History of Peru is a mouthful but it was worth a walk around even if almost all the explanatory panels were in Spanish. It provides a little bit of history and culture without having to leave the city. It is located in what looks like a former colonial…
Pigeon Sphincters Work Differently in Peru
I wonder how General Jose manages to not have the squadrons of blue eyed pigeons paint him and his steed. He is thirty feet above the ground and surely a lightning rod in this vast plaza for any and every pigeon sphincter. And this is surely battlestar HQ for the world’s pigeons.
Shuddupayorface
Oops, some Delhi belly. Bet I picked that up from the KFC last night. Who travels this far to go to KFC? I confess, the smell wafting up the street was too much after being out for an hour to stretch my legs. Actually I was looking for a street directory.
Sapphire on Black
Over the years I have tried all sorts of ways of beating jet lag and figure in the end that simply sleeping when tired is best. That of course means I slept yesterday afternoon, sat up late and got some writing done (about 3000 words), slept and was up again at 0600. I wandered down…
The Second Last Continent
We push back at 1135. The plane is full. A three year old cries in the seat in front of me. A spoilt brat I grump to myself, who does not want to be strapped in and would rather sit in Mum’s lap. Little prat, I am ready to box his ears. Might as well…
Departing Moresby
It was interesting to hear how many of the trekkers were afflicted by lucid dreams while on the track. Not just one or two but many. What was it in the woods that sparked the brain so? Or was it in the air? Or somewhere else? There are sections of the track that some porters…
Port Moresby
Litter. Overgrown verges. Dust. Couples sitting in the shade. Dripping humidity. Kids on hips. In shade of umbrellas. Decrepit vehicles. Blazing sun in a clear sky. Shop fronts with a focus on heavy security – a chicken burger joint looks like a bunker. Crowds of idle men standing around or sleeping. The Art Gallery and…
The Worst Museum in the World
The museums around Ho Chi Minh City can be derelict but at least there is an appreciation of the role various artifacts have played in the history of the city. That is especially the case when you are talking military artifacts. Port Moresby boasts the worst kept collection of military paraphernalia I have seen. And…
The Lost Piper of Boroko
We carefully leave the taxi and as casually and as alert as we can be without indicating our concern we steer through the market stalls and try and avoid the crowd that is being incited by someone on a loud-hailer. All we can hear in the tirade is “Australia” and “rascal”. It is not a…
Taxi Driver – Papuan (Port Moresby)
Where’re you boys goin’? National Musuem National or War Museum. Ah, War museum actually. Okay boys. War museum. At Gordon? Yes. You boys been on Kokoda? As a matter of fact yes. When did you finish? Wrapped up yesterday. Were up there for nine days. It’s good you walked Kokoda. Australians and Papuans are brothers.…
Kokoda – The Day After
Bush Walking, Kokoda, Military, Papua New Guinea, Poems, Travel, World War 2, WritingBy Bruce Lyman2 Comments
Sitting around the pool the day after walking/flying out of Kokoda was a surreal and dislocative experience. Fraudulent even. Here we were sitting in comparative luxury, able to flop into a tepid pool if we felt too sticky. And yet we had some claim, we felt, to some ownership of the Track. After all we…
Kokoda D+10 Kokoda to Moresby
Melodious bird song gets our day started. Another tune and another bird I have never heard before. The cloud hands heavy in the valley and for a few moments we are concerned about whether any flights will happen today. Then a couple of purple green peaks float into view and disappear again in the washed…
Kokoda D+9 – on to Kokoda
We are in something of a slow daze and tents are being set up in Kokoda at a rate that is the slowest I have seen for the whole trip. We swim through a humid wall and move slowly after coming out of the cool air of the mountains. But I am getting ahead of…
Kokoda D+8 To Isurava
The surf fades and I sleep the sleep of a teenager. Helped by the fact that I think we have found the best patch of grass so far. We are all still having those lucid dreams. When I surface it is to the sound of the creek, and light has already steeped into the valley.…
Kokoda D+7 To Eora Creek
Don’t take your malaria tablets before eating! Not the salt tablets after all. Anyway, got the stomach purged in time to get breakfast in and staying down. Attempting any work up here on an empty stomach as I tried the other day would be a mistake. It was a mistake. Just prior to retiring last…
Kokoda D+6 1900 Crossing and Myola
The wind roars through the tree tops as it makes it way up the valley before hammering our hut. You can hear it steaming up the hillside like a steam train and you mentally brace for the impact. Each time I woke up through the night I could see a little more of the sky.…
Kokoda D+5 On to Naduri
The day started with a strange wailing, hooting call drifting down off the mountain. It was still dark. Twice. Each call elicited a murmur of comment from the porters before they dropped into silence. I waited for more and wondered who or what was out so early or so late. I dropped off again and…
Kokoda D+4 To Menari
I wake early and gaze into the dark. The sky is backlit by a dying moon so its hard to determine the time. No one is moving so I drift back to sleep. Eventually the sound of a morning start filters through. Tent flies are unzipped with a riiiiiiiiiip. Bodies roll over in their sleeping…
Kokoda D+3 To New Nauro
The moon rose last night over the village just as we were thinking of heading to bed. Its brightness startled us and we stood in the silence and stared at the spectacle of massive hardwoods silhouetted against the moonlit sky. Well, at least until we were distracted in turn by the fireflies which skidded through…
Kokoda D+2 To Ioribaiwa
A fitful nights sleep after our first day on the track. Dinner last night was a saveloy (plastic sausage) and a serving of Deb (powdered potato) with some tomato sauce. It hit the spot and the porters were delighted to be done with the weight of the meat. The full moon lifted through the cloud…
Kokoda D+1 Owers Corner
After messing around at Port Moresby we got on the road out to Bomana Cemetery where we were reminded in a most sombre way what this is really about. 3,700 headstones gleamed white in the sun marking what Kokoda represents. This is not just any old track after all. We held a brief memorial service,…
Kokoda – D Day
The day started with the occasional whooshing car alerting me to the pending dawn. Tradies getting to site early and telling me to wake up long before the alarms chimed at 0530. But if it wasn’t the tradies waking me up it would have been the dodgy mattress on the church hall floor where we…
Kokoda D -1
I need to get this gear sorted. The clothes are being culled in favour of supplements of the dietry kind. But it still needs sorting. The scroggin needs mixing up and putting into sachets for each day as does the drink supplement. I fear it is still going to weigh more than I want. Maybe…
Kokoda D -2
Time to start the anti – malaria drug regime. That seems to make the pending trek all the more real, even more so than all the kilometres we have been hauling up and down the last six weeks or more. Better get the final gear sorted out and equipment checked. We fly out on Tuesday morning. I am…
Sydney Fringe – The Allure of Disgrace
Diary 15 September 2010. Sydney Fringe Festival – bursting out of the inner west suburbs. Or something like that which is the tag line. Bursting out into the art deco Petersham Town Hall which is echoing with the voices of the few who have shown up. The ceiling is magnificent. The tiling is gorgeous. Mr…
1969 – an Age of Innocence?
Funny how these pictures keep drawing you back (pun alert). To an age of innocence, which is not how anyone would usually describe 1969. Mind you I am not entirely convinced the date on the picture is correct – I like to think I would have been drawing my Dad in this way in 1965…
A Retro Trip
The travel of the mind is easily the most seductive. And the most dangerous. I am writing a biography of a man I once knew. Still do actually, though he ‘crossed the Jordan’ in 1996. If I was to be honest with myself I have not been prepared for the emotional dislocation that has happened…
An Elephant, a Duck, and a Community
When is a book launch not a book launch? When the author writes about his family and his upbringing then invites all those, and some, over to lunch to celebrate his parents, their love and tuition, the memory of them and all those (immediate family and others) who had some part in creating his story. Not the written one…
Letter to Charles 15 May 10
Catching My Eye, Cemetery, Charles Edward Sayers, Country Towns, Military, New South Wales, NSW, PalmdaleBy Bruce LymanLeave a comment
Dear Charles, I hope being that familiar so soon is okay. I just wanted to say thanks for the excuse to run up to Palmdale today. There is no town centre to speak of but I am sure the couple of women I crept past as they walked their Clydesdales in the shadow of giant…
Letter to Mr Charles Sayers
Dear Mr Sayers, Here you are at last. Funny how a photo makes it all a bit more personal. Just a shame I had to rely on the Army to provide it. I am sure you appreciated the recruits haircut you received just as much as the rest of us did when we received ours. …
Notes in a Sydney Train
Scrubbed timber has no smell. The burnt brake pads and the metal wheel flange create their own dust and heat and smell which lifts in the warm afternoon, hangs in the humid air and is pushed aside by the train as it sighs up to the platform. I watch the handful of people who angle…
Cobar – By Moonlight
I rolled into Cobar with the sun sunk by twenty minutes and the clear autumn sky turned Indian ink blue. The rising moon was flashing through the trees on my right, distracting me from the roos taking a leisurely leap into my path. Thank goodness for peripheral vision. To my surprise all the “No” neons…
Snaky Creek and Other Place Names
Snaky Creek, just out of Manna Hill (ironic given the arid country, but then, perhaps not so ironic: I wonder if quails fall from the sky around here?!). Not Snake Creek. Or Big Snake Creek. Or Black Snake Creek even. But an adjectival snaky, suggesting deviousness. A slipperiness. A snakiness. And perhaps a sense of…
The Invisible Story
Meet Monty. One of many nephews. Can’t recall the date – but about 1996 or thereabouts.
Kebab Book review
BB King is twanging in the ceiling, largely drowned out by the chatter of customers, the clatter of the kitchen, and the hum of extractor fans over the ovens. The hooting laughter from an elderly couple in the corner, lubricated by a bottle of red and another of white, punctuate the din. Chairs scrape. A…
Green Red Zone
There was something unsettling sitting in the offices of a certain government department in Baghdad and hearing senior civil servants, some with PhDs from US and European universities, cynically observe that they had swapped their home grown dictator for Dictator Bremer of Washington DC. Perhaps most disturbing was their discussion about how they were poised…
Turns out Albert Priest was…
…the town clerk (not sure which town) in the 1920s or so who thought it would be good for all in that part of the bush to have some water delivered via the channel that now bears his name. Once can only suspect he well earned the naming rights since, as a town clerk,…
The Hurt Locker
What the heck was I thinking, watching Wolfsissie during the week? What a hopeless movie, starting with so much promise and fizzing half way through. Anthony Hopkins must need to pay off a credit card or something to be dragged into something as bad as this. Anyway, more than offset by The Hurt Locker which…
Who was Albert Priest?
Who was Albert Priest? We cross the Albert Priest Channel 26km south of Nyngan. Not such a luminary that a town or desert is named after him. No mountains either of course, this part of the country being billiard table flat. Perhaps it is appropriate that landmarks out here are subsurface ones such as a…
Oodla Wirra – Where?
A (very sharp) boning knife protruding backwards from hip pocket, mad scramble through thorn bush hunting jittery goats and a forearm inadvertently connecting with aforementioned knife had us do a quick (one hour) run to the hospital at Peterborough (that’s not a real wound – gotta love those country nurses) through Oodla Wirra. A name…
The Devil’s Shilling
In the deserts of South Australia there are numerous monuments to failed enterprises and settlements. Standing at an old crossroads in the middle of saltbush country is a derelict hotel with flowery wallpaper slowly peeling off the walls, floors caving in and a cellar blown into the street. It became the scene for a gothic…
Two Men and a Dog
Cast: Buzz. Old kelpie dog. 74 years of dust matted into his pelt. Eyes set way too close together. Thinks he runs the farm. Silver. Mongrel something. 73 years of dust. Forehead as wide as a tanker’s bow – eyes way too far apart. Thinks he runs the farm. Two kelpie bitches in heat. Know…
Cactus is Fractus
Well, it is fractus (there is one for your Scrabble games) out on Miss Betty’s place, even if you do see it flourishing elsewhere in the state. Over the years prickly pear has been managed quite well and the family property is pretty much free of it. But given she is now managing it on…
A Country Finger
Rarely is the gesture of a single finger ever interpreted as anything except someone wishing the worst things to happen to you or your mother. Or both. Regardless of culture, language or age. Except in the country where a single, brief wave of a finger off the steering wheel is understood by rural folk to…
Kinked Back Shingleback
The short stick in the dusty distance moves in the heat and you are not sure if it is the shimmering haze off the gravel tricking your eyes. Then it moves again and a little more determinedly albeit awkwardly. You slow down and get ready to swerve to avoid whatever it is. The stick waddles…
A Word of Distraction
Last year I used the NanoWriMo competition of bash out the Iraq novel. This year it was used to smash into the biography of Herb Money. Bash and smash are the only way to describe trying to write 50,000 words in 30 days, when lots of other things are out there distracting you. I now…
Fixing the Back Fence
The boundary fences out here were built in 1898. Or to be more precise, the wire you lean on today was strung out in 1898. The steel posts replaced the wooden posts which are still lying where they were pulled out of the ground more than 110 years ago. We stood in awe of the…
Miss Betty
Mrs Betty. Miss Betty. Or Joy. And sometimes confused as “Betty”. A legend in our minds. She farms a massive block of arid country in South Australia on her own. A yard with nothing out of place. Stock, which despite drought conditions are in very good condition. Over the years her family kept on top…
Sunrise at Bulyninnie
The hot night does not make for sound sleep and I wake in the dark. Again. It is 0430 but still dark outside, with no hint of light or noise. A little over thirty minutes later I resurface and I can hear the polite chatter of young galahs as they slowly chirrup each other awake.…
3400km later…
A road trip of any length in Australia is never something to be taken lightly. But if you have to treat it with anything approaching the cavalier, then just throw caution to the wind, and you just might get away with it. The trip clock stopped right on 3400 when I finally switched off the…
South Australia Road Trip
It is way past departure time (0600 was the plan) but everyone needs to be not only upright and breathing but actually awake. So walk in circles, wait for Nick to have his Macca’s delivered then get in cars and drive a kilometre down the road to buy petrol. Then get geographically challenged in the…
Lyrebird Track
Seven days ago more than 4 inches of rain fell on the suburb between 1030 in the morning and dinner time. Today the creeks are back to normal but the thrumming of insects in the canopy is a hard, driving buzz and the reptiles are out and about in a warm, damp and sometimes sodden…
Halloween Privileges
Being asked by (adult) son to paint his face is a rare thing! So make the most of it. I could have completely flipped out with the colours but kinda behaved myself. Dorky Scooby Doo is a nice finishing touch.
Sunday Jazz
‘I have got a lolly here if anyone needs any sugar. Pass them down to the really old people’. ‘None old here. Not when I was playing with Thomas The Tank Engine this morning’. ‘By yourself?’ ‘Yes, actually. Grandkids left it lying out last night. Couldn’t help myself this morning’. I was delivered from more…
Make Like a “Tawny” Stick
There was always some wag who would whisper “make like a stick” when we were playing with guns in the bush (and earning the Queen’s shilling) – an oblique way of saying “stay still and hope your camouflage efforts are up to scratch”. The Tawny Frogmouth does a great job looking like a stick. In…
Great North Walk
The Great North Walk is great because it starts in Sydney and not because it links you to Newcastle 200km away. Sorry Novacastrians, cheap shot. We knocked off 10km of it today – from Thornleigh to Lane Cove. Here are all the usual sights and sounds of walking through the Sydney bush, though on this…
Kittyhawk P40 – Australian War Memorial
The worst thing that can be said about the AWM if you live in Canberra is that it is used on wet weekends by locals as a place to entertain the kids. Of which I confess to being very guilty, though a five year old son who confused his story of Jesus riding into Jerusalem…
A Nike Approach to Cerebral Palsy
I have been meaning to write up Leigh in this blog for some time now. This morning I was reminded why I should do so when he was “interviewed” at church. Apparently he used to have “JDI” at his work desk and “just do it” seems to sum up a large part of Leigh. Remarkably…
Governor Phillip Track
Somehow summer snuck into spring and thirty degrees or more baked Sydney today. But for the best part of the afternoon we hardly noticed as we plugged along the Governor Phillip track through cool thermals of fern moist air, to the background tune of water spilling over rocks and sucking along fallen logs. Though all…
Mandarin Fish
Sometimes there are leads in the inbox that take you to things you just have to share. Meet Synchiropus Spendidus, or Mandarin Fish. Most splendid indeed.
Sydney Flora
We tend to think of the Australian environment as a pretty harsh and unforgiving one. And its bush as monochrome, brittle dry and full of things that bite. All true enough. But spring is a comin’ and some of the smaller, finer and daintier elements of the flora scene are out to impress right now.Like…
Bantry Bay – Middle Harbour
Named after an Irish bay in southern Ireland, Bantry Bay in Sydney is an odd spot. Standing on “the Bluff” at its head you can see Sydney CBD in the middle distance and aircraft letting down into Mascot. If you are paying attention you can just see the top of the Harbour Bridge. You would…
The Hero of Mboto Gorge?
Family is, well family. And you love them regardless of what they stick up their nostrils. And you love them when they are prancing around in Nepal impressing the Gurkhas with just how barmy their officers really are. But let’s face it there is far too much vanilla out there and not enough Spike Milligan,…
Citizenship Jingoism?
Surprised myself by discovering not so. My own ceremony was held with a small handful of others in the office of some Melbourne based Minister. I can’t recall who he was. Last week I attended a citizenship ceremony in North Sydney and discovered it was a quite emotive and sentimental affair. I lost track of…
Vale Betty
Sorry, a more creative title is not being released by the muse tonight. But that is okay since I might otherwise risk a corny heading to a sober note. Not too sober though, since Betty had a roguish sense of humour and would accuse me of a put on sobriety if I got too serious.…
Black and White – with Lots of Colour
The first time my name was in print I was shy to the point of embarrassment. The second time I was published I was paid 900 pounds sterling but thought I had better keep my name off that piece – it was some analysis on China and given where I was working at the time…
A Tear in the Eye – Good on you Pericles!
When I was fifteen I sat in a darkened theatre at Melbourne University and waited with bated breath to see what impact, if any, I had made on the production. Weeks and weeks of toil in the woodwork shop (difficult when I was not taking a woodwork class) was about to appear as part of…
A Friend Assaulted – and Bouncing Back
Remember Miss Betty? That remarkable woman in her seventies who runs a remote sheep station in South Australia. We met her in this blog a few weeks ago when I was in Quorn. Well, she has been at the centre of a siege which has been making the news here (to which I should have…
Cool BBQ
Cool alright. The hoodies give it away. 8 degrees of cool. Evening meal outside in mid winter is no big deal here when the snow is hours away and frost in this part of the world unheard of. But it is always nice to sit around talking nonsense, drinking an excellent red and bracing yourself…
Australian DNA in Fromelles
I have just finished reading the book by Patrick Lindsay which tells the story of the discovery of Australian soldiers buried in a mass grave at Fromelles. But it is more than a story of that discovery – remarkable in its own right, and poignantly achieved by a Greek born Melbourne school teacher who clearly…
Long in the tooth Desert Rats
I love stories of reconciliation and forgiveness. Some of the most powerful are those of soldiers imprisoned and treated in the most appalling way by the Japanese, yet travelling to Japan after the war to convey their forgiveness – in words but also in deeds. (I do too understand those who can never stomach the…
Perfect Sydney Light
Another shot from our early morning excursion which turned into a half day affair. There were no others out when we started but the fishermen soon appeared on the wharves, a couple of flashes went off from between drawn curtains in the hotel windows behind and five pedestrians shuffled past pretending to be enthusiastic fitness…
He is a bit sketchy early in the morning…
He sure was. Just a bit after six in the morning and while Chris got the cameras working Michael started on the sketching – while keeping the hand from shaking too much in the early morning chill. The rising sun was starting to catch the Opera House and the glass of the city. But it…
Smithy Flies Again…
… in vaulting stories and in our imagination as author (and former Australian Rugby rep) Peter FitzSimons regales us with anecdotes about Sir Charles Kingsford Smith, from the volume he is launching about the life and times of this Australian (and global) aviation legend. The lunchtime crowd were mainly, well I think mainly retirees, who…
While Sydney Lay Dreaming…
Each day this last week the fog has lifted off the harbour in early morning mists and the suburbs have been shrouded in rain. Seattle weather never sits well on a Sydneysider and even though we grumble at water restrictions when the dam levels drop, we do prefer our sunny days and sparkling harbour. But…
Salute the Tank Driver
Remembrances of events can be two edged. Was it really twenty years since Tiananmen? Hard to believe all right. Twenty years ago those of us in the various “China watchers” groups in governments around the world were starting to think that the winds of change in China were spring rather than winter zephyrs, and that…
But Was There an Anesthetic?
Impressive for their precision but I do wonder if there was an anesthetic! National Geographic (where else?) story here.
A Quorn Meal
Soft pink waist coats and mole grey jackets suggest something refined and gentle. The galah is anything but, especially when when it is jinking up the street with five its mates, showing off clever manoeuvres like teenage boys in their new cars. But they are the only signs and raucous sounds of life for a…
Quorn Dogs
“You on channel Miss Betty?” The silence out of the radio is accompaniment for the empty horizon. “You on channel Miss Betty?” Nothing. The microphone is dropped back into the console and we drive on, dust erupting and billowing behind us, saltbush blurring beside us. This expedition started with a sit in the sun on…
In Fields of Quorn
Last weekend I watched my brother play with his son and thought “Thirty years apart is far too long”. There is pain in the realisation that it has been so long. Years never recovered. Years not shared. All valuable and constructive in their own way, and all filled with light and drama and satisfaction and…
Echoes of Empire
As much as I despise the culture of obsequious kowtowing to “the Empire” there are some icons that connect me to it in a more positive yet strange way. Some are old history books. Biggles stories are another connection – they formed up some perspectives as a ten year old which seem humourous now. Winston…
Holy Gutter!
As we walk up to an old stone Quorn church built in 1880… “Owyer goin Ron?” “Really well for an old bloke.” “Nah, you ain’t old, just slow moving. Meet my brother. He is here to help repair this guttering.” “Oh yeah? Where are you from?” “Sydney?” “Sydney?! To repair the gutter.” “All the way.”…
Quorn. Quorn?
Pronounced “corn”. No, I did not know that either. A dot on the arid landscape in South Australia ( 32°20’46.93″S 138° 2’23.85″E). I walk around the streets wondering what keeps people here. Maybe the clue lies with Gary and his wife who sit in the late autumn sun and sing out a cheery “owyergoing mate?”…
A Child Graduates
Hey Dad, how come we (kids) never feature on your blog? Good question. If it’s just plain weird or bizarre then I am attracted to it – so you would think they would be a recurring theme. Maybe it is because the most exotic place any of them have resided is Ballarat. If they camped…
Brain Teaser
While we are talking about remarkable things to do with skulls here is another skull penetration exercise which is even more amazing. Very clever people at Stanford University have wired up this mouse so that the deepest parts of its brain are directly stimulated by light. “Viviana Gradinaru, a graduate student has designed a hybrid…
Weird yet Intriguing
While it is a truism that “there is nothing new under the sun” sometimes, just sometimes, there is something that is actually so outlandish you can be forgiven for thinking this is a thing which new and never seen before. Perhaps like this camera created from the skull of a thirteen year old girl. A…
Afghan Grass Trimmer
Always be deeply cynical of stories that float around the mail systems, especially if they are accompanied by pleas for prayer, and/or onforwarding. Emotion and fact rarely marry in the internet chapel. Despite the caution I found myself warming to the alleged story (see below) behind this picture of a soldier trimming a patch of…
Waterboarding
I wrote some thoughts about waterboarding in an earlier post. There is some interesting observations here by journalist Christopher Hitchens who thought be might pursue a story to its (almost) nth degree.
Sex Selective Abortion Favours Males
The number of boys being born in China is higher than the number of girls. By a long shot. It is a statistic complicated by and exacerbated by China’s single child policy and by sex selective abortion. According to the British Medical Journal the average ratio of male to female births can be as high…
Putting Your Heart on Your Sleeve
Not every “bloke” is keen to put their heart on their sleeve, let alone doing so by writing a poem about how he feels. It’s not something we do well – as a rule. So a feather could have knocked me down when one of my colleagues let me read (and now publish) the poem…
Afghan Refugees
Mark Twain enjoined “Let your secret sympathies and your compassion be always with the under dog in the fight – this is magnanimity; but bet on the other one – this is business.” Sadly our government too often confuses the two. Afghan travellers looking for a better life have their boat explode from underneath them,…
CIA Interrogation – Try “Would You Like a Job?”
In 2005 the following techniques (listed below) were apparently approved (by the DoJ) for use on detainees. I can hear old school coppers all over the world having a chuckle – no reference to phone books, or fire hoses, or clamped cuffs, or … We would be foolish if we thought these were the…
Top Marketing Lines from my Spam Filter
Marketing is about convincing a potential customer you have a product they need or want. The message which is conveyed has to be convincing, whether you are introducing the product or closing the sale. If you are going to win that sale you want your potential customer to know you are serious, and have a…
The Smell of A Book
Sir Ernest Barker, clearly part of “the establishment” if his Wikipedia entry is any guide, thought The Reader Over Your Shoulder is ‘a national service.’ Only a knight would judge a book on writing to be so. Actually a knight who was also a don at Oxford and a professor at Cambridge, which may or…
Water Wars
I caught an interesting review of an article written by Wendy Barnaby (published in Nature). It was intriguing because it neatly flipped assumptions about why nations go to war, and going to war over water is a base assumption for many strategic assessments held by our governments. Perhaps fuelled by Mark Twain as well who…
Sydney Toytown
A chap called Keith Loutit has been filming and photographing scenes in a rather unique way – combining time lapse photography and a technique that constrains the point of focus. The result is a captivating effect – a toytown effect. I have embedded one of Sydney on this page. Have a look over there on…
Lunch at Dee Why
(Napkin scribblings today while waiting for colleague) Smell of salt heavy. Pale green (jade) sea glimpsed through foaming white. Hissing sand the hearth to scissoring swells, Paddling gulls anxious about the foam. Writing on soft tissue napkin. Gentle chatter of blue rinse set under a grey sky and wave chopped horison backdrop. Norfolk pine fronds…
Cultivating Defence Minister Fitzsgibbons
Around here there is a whole lot of huffing and puffing about the Defence Minister who is in hot water because he rents his residence from a powerful and influential Chinese national – a businesswoman who once had lots of hands on business activities in Australia, less so now. Not divulging this contact is the…
1421 (to be repeated?)
The style is a little didactic but the account (1421) by a former British naval officer (didactic therefore explained) of his search for evidence that the Chinese bounced around the globe in their massive ships and fleets in the early fifteenth century is surprisingly compelling. His proposition seems to have survived wide peer review which…
A Drug Arm Storm
The rain shimmered off the road and leapt under the street lights but was completely outshone by the viscous lightening and cracking and thundering percussion which attended it, all right overhead. The end of a warm, humid day but it did make us wonder if we would find anyone out on the streets tonight.
Afghanistan Prophecy
In the late eighties I would occasionally wander down the end of the hall to the afternoon intelligence briefings. They were different to the ones we attended in the morning. The generals attended the early sessions and we briefed them on the issues they wanted to hear. (And it did not hurt for young “thrusters”…
Taxi Story – The Pakistani (II)
Share on Facebook I am from Lahore and I drive this taxi part time. The taxi is owned by an Indian. I found this Indian CD behind the visor. It is actually a Pakistani song but the Indians like it. It is a very beautiful song and actually we all like it. Now this one…
A Country Flight
How do you know you are boarding a flight to Rockhampton? Is it the laconic voices of salt and pepper grey haired men who meander out to the plane? Maybe it is the sunny dress on the toddler and her blond curls hinting at the tropical sun. And her mother dressed for capricornia in a…
Koi Feeding
Remarkable photo. Apparently the blue is reflecting the sky. Apparently. But it is pretty neat. Photograph by Randy Heisch (via National Geographic)
Chum Creek Fire
I read the news this morning and, like everyone else in this country, kept a morbid eye on the growing death toll. Suddenly through the course of the morning I was jolted by the realisation that one of the news items had mentioned Chum Creek Rd, an address where friends lived. Relatives of JD no…
A Birds Eye View of Hong Kong
We walked down Boundary Street today after alighting from the train at Price Edward Station. It was a clear day and the high hills and steep slopes of the New Territories, which in theory stretch out from the other side of the road and extend to the China border, were clear and sharp. My eye…
Group or Solo
I am talking about travel! I have numerous solo experiences and only two, maybe three or four group travel experiences. And this one to Hong Kong is my first experience leading a group on any sort of travel ( I do not count taking troops out on a military exercise in this category!). Sitting here…
Perowne Barracks Phantoms
I am staying at the old Gurkha (British Army) Barracks at Perowne in Hong Kong. Tuen Mun to be precise. 2 Castle Road to be even more exact. It is a visit that is strangely affecting me in a way I was not expecting at all. Let me test the feelings and see what it…
Maid of Honour
Sunday is “maids day” in Hong Kong. We passed a flood of them pouring down the hill towards Central as we made our way to the tram terminus. Filipinos and Indonesians mainly. Like their sisters in the Middle East, Malaysia and Singapore. But my experience of them here in China is coloured by the abuse…
A Silent Death in Hong Kong
Cultural impressions can occur in a range of different ways. You can walk up the back streets of Beijing and watch a man have his ablutions on a tin tray at one o’clock in the morning. Or drive the escarpments of Eastern Tibet and take an English class in a village which cannot ever recall…
To Haggle or Not?
Pickledeel views on this subject can be found on Eric’s page. Though I don’t really believe haggling is necessary, culturally relevant/observant or otherwise in a visitor’s interests the Saudi’s in the Riyadh gold souk are certainly up for some negotiation. Just make it loud!
Who Are You?
Travel is a great introspective tool, strangely mixed up with the opportunity to step outside of yourself to see how you fit in the world. An existential flux if you will. The more I travel the more I want to do more, not for the sake of travel (though worthy a motivation in itself as…
Sydney 2009 New Years Eve/Day
2009 starts as it does with any other year – with plenty of colour and noise, folk travelling from all over the world to start the year here. It helps that the weather is hot and humid at this time, though new year in a snow bound New York has a certain appeal I have…
Southern Leaf Tailed Gecko
At this time of the year I am especially alert to potentially lethal spiders that lurk in our gardens and right now are running about a bit earlier than usual looking for mates. Over the last week I have been digging trenches for new plumbing and have found a handful of their tunnels so am…
She Served me Up a Dose of Giardia
But she meant well. It was a roast meat meal cooked on a spit which, when it took its full course disabled me in a hotel in Bangladesh two weeks later. Her two small boys hung around in the back of the stall. No one else had come near her stall all day and she…
A Malayan Emergency
We were set a task of writing a short story romance (2000 words) which included reference to a black and white photograph. I started with a photo I had found in a second hand store in Vietnam, but always thought the face gazing out of it looked Malay. I picked it up off my desk…
Kea
Another amateur photographer friend took this brilliant shot in NZ. It is the mountain parrot, best known for plucking the radio aerial off your car, ripping open your pack to get into your cereal and fruit and otherwise being a likable rogue. For the most part. Farmers take a different view when they select lamb…
Ladybird or Ladybug?
Seems that everyone around me is turning into a photographer with outstanding skills. This from one of my work colleagues. Ladybug if you are in North America. But did you know there are more than 5000 species of these things? No, nor did I. All you want to know about these Lady Cows (apparently so…
Palintology
When I was in DC last month, or was it the month before? (time slips away) we were all being distracted by a bleeding Wall St, falling dollars and the presidential race – and in particular DC was distracted by the Alaskan phenomenon. At the time no one seemed to quite know what to make…
The Bible As A Travel Guide
Eric at Travel Blogs has come up with another innovative way to explore the way we all travel – in reality or in our minds. He asked us to connect up the books and other media that had inspired travel. You can read these, including a slightly unusual source of inspiration for the Pickled Eel…
JD Anniversay Shoot
In speaking of the laconic I was reminded that in September we celebrated the anniversary memorial shoot in honour of departed friend Jonathan. There was none of the smoke and thunder of the previous year but the sputter of BB pellets that fell out of the end of the BB gun in the side show…
Loconic Soldiering
It is a point of (perverse?) pride that our soldiering tradition is marked by extreme laconic perspectives, attitudes and general disposition. Where that disposition irritated British officers the pleasure is refined. But Australian volunteer soldiers are not the owners of the laconic voice – I suspect that volunteer soldiers down through the ages have owned…
Storm Flowers
The Jacaranda flower rains, especially in the rain. After a couple of weeks in the sun and gently falling in a slow shower in their own slow time the flowers get to a point where rain brings them down more easily. Or so it seems. I fancy they are our storm flowers, arriving at the…
The Hot Spot
Early hours of the morning. My online Scrabble opponent has retreated. The novel is being tweaked. The silver music of Miles Davis supported by the driving blues of John Lee Hooker has me begging for more. Thanks Clyde for swearing on a stack of Bibles that this was the best sound track of any movie.…
India is not…
…a country of poverty and perverse Victorian customs lost in time and place. It is not Mother Teresa or slums, cholera or cyclones, terrorists or dodgy airlines. It is first and foremost a country of the senses. India is felt on the skin, tasted in all the mouth, heard through every pore, and smelt even…
In the Hands of Providence
There is something very mystical about the Gettysburg battlefield which is hard to explain. There is a very powerful sense of uniformed men still there, lingering over the heartache, savagery, the mundane and the heroic. That is, provided you do not arrive there on a day when thousands of boy scouts are running all over…
Iraqi Muse
I found Iraq to be a very seductive place. There is something about the country, Baghdad in particular, which I found akin my experience of some parts of India. Life is such a precarious thing in these places that people grasp it with both hands and make the most of what they have. Those who…
Along Came the Muse…
…and sat down beside her. And Capucine took every advantage of that and put the rest of us to shame with a rollicking story which is full of imagination and characters, has a beginning, middle and end, good versus bad and a whole lot of nuances, subtle and otherwise. But above all it is just…
Cemetary Alive!
A quick note – the pictures tell their own story. “Spring is sprung, the flowers are riz” and the wildflowers in the Gore Hill cemetery (Victorian death lost in the middle of Sydney) are abundant and vibrant and powerfully contrast the stones they envelop. It is a great place to wander during a work day,…
Out of Africa to Warm the Heart
Not everything out of Africa is grim. My own limited experience of South Africa and Zimbabwe reinforced the need to be alert to what was happening around you. Its just that kind of environment. Not much different to Soho in that regard though. On Saturday the Sydney Morning Herald ran a story on Catherine Hamlin.…
Australian Immigration Madness
I travel in and out of here with nary a thought for border control, just glad that I can do so easily. But we (Australia) have an extremely fine mesh immigration net that catches all sorts. I know from experience that it hooks the sharks, and does so in such a way that we are…
Forced to Eat Her Own Genitals
With power comes responsibility. (Cliched but true!) With great power, great responsibility. The internet is a powerful tool. It can be a plaything, offering self indulgent writing as is the case with this blog. Conversely it can offer a voice to those who have no voice. But only if we,with access to it, make it…
Taxi Story – The Korean
Guess where I am from. I never tell anyone. It takes about ten hours to fly from here to my home. Ah, Hong Kong? No, no, that is eight hours. Shanghai? No, that is 9 hours. Korea? Yes, yes, Korea.
Art Deco At Fair Park
In an area of the US which boasts one of the most rapidly growing urban areas in the country (I understand it competes with San Diego for that dubious honour) not only are places like Frisco and McKinney keeping some grip on their heritage but so too downtown Dallas where Fair Park retains most of…
O’Connor Buckley
I have never been overly comfortable about saying how proud I am about family – can’t have them getting grand notions about themselves now can we ?! But the fact of the matter is that wherever I cast a glance out across the tree I only see people of whom I am extremely proud and…
Recession? What Recession?
The statistics tell one story I guess. And the emotionally driven sinking red line tells another. But last week I picked up a copy of the Wall Street Journal on my way to breakfast where beside pictures of brokers with heads in their hands was a small story about one (unknown) company paying $6billion in…
McKinney is Famous for …
…being so, well, American. It is October. So the corn stalks are out, reminding us of harvest thanksgiving. Orange pumpkins dot the sidewalks and verandas. Halloween creeps up on us after all, and only the blind or dull and unobservant could miss these brilliant cues.
Body of Lies a Body of Lies
On Sunday I sat in a movie theatre in Texas and watched Russell Crowe, Leonardo Di Caprio and others in the recently released movie “Body of Lies”. There was something in the experience that came full circle – or rather I should say there were a number of interesting threads that came together that afternoon.
American DNA
We always say that even though we speak the same language as our American cousins we often don’t hear the same words. Which is another way of saying there are lots of things which on the surface are assumed to be the same but which are in fact very different.
Taxi Story – The Ethiopian
(Starting to slip into a US drawl) “Howya doing? Hope Street please.” (this was in Washington DC). Silence “Do you know where that is?” Nods. “Are you able to take me there?” (it is considered a tough part of town) “Mmmmmm.”
A Maverick Etymology
I love learning where words originate. Studying Old and Middle English at Uni was therefore a complete distraction wrapped up in a complete distraction! Sticking with the Shawnee Trail for the moment (see other entries) the city of Frisco here is building, expanding, flourishing (and otherwise ignoring the madness on Wall Street) and every piece…
Ice Hockey is a Multi Media Experience
We all admire the hard physical contact sport of ice hockey for its speed and well, hard physical contact. But my inaugural attendance at this game (Dallas Stars against the Oilers (no, I had no idea who they were either – all the way down from Canada)), which I thoroughly enjoyed, was an insight into…
“It was so quiet I could hear the dawn coming”
Poetry out of the mouth of a cowboy, inscribed among other quips and observations about life on the cattle trails lifting up from southern Texas and headed for the railheads at Kansas City and else where, and eventually to the slaughter yards in Chicago and New York. It is carved into the flagstones of a…
40 Years at the State Fair of Texas
(Whole conversation carried out in earnest seriousness) “Excuse me, Sir, excuse me… Can you tell me where I can get a dog like that?” (Shuffles over) “Ysmm’ sir, you gotta go to the empty beer bottle competition booth. It’s a special one. We go there every year.” “Every year?” “Yes, sir, we have been coming…
Bigger than Texas(?)
Our flight into Fort Worth is a bumpy one – it looks like a hot day in Texas. As we swing from compass point to compass point we cut over railyards, sweeping freeways, sprawling acres of warehouses and endless suburbs. I think “this is a place of endless possibilities”, an indelible impression imprinted as we…
It’s Unamerican
Being in the US over the last couple of weeks has allowed me to witness first hand turmoil laid upon confusion – fragile financial markets mixed up in an election campaign. (I hope there is no Superbowl pending!) Whatever the debate, pitch, argument or defence from the Capitol, there is almost always fall back reference…
Departing DC
Departing Washington on a clear fall day with a low rising sun and blue sky. The sun at that angle highlights the deciduous woodlands and between them and the placid Potomac, with early morning rowing teams sliding into their day, I am reminded of what a beautiful part of the country this is.
Train from New York
We flee from New York at a clickety blur at the end of the day. We have done so for an hour now and the sun is just setting across an industrial landscape that is old brick buildings (a few soft with refurbishment, the rest hard in broken abandonment), vacant weedgrown lots, rail-tracks, water towers…
New York – What Can I Say?
What is it about New York that gives you the sense that absolutely anything is possible? Just around the corner is another world with another language and another teaming population.
This is so, like…like!
Overheard (not of this guy) at Washington Union Station… “Hi, yeah, it was so like, well… like you know, like… you know. Uh huh, uh huh, No like, I was so, like worried, like, ….I don’t know why I was like, but I was like, really, you know… uh huh, uh huh, No, like he…
A Degree of Freedom in Baltimore
Here I am ten years later in Baltimore and on a very different “mission”. My earlier visit was in the company of some crazy Hungarian and other European counter intelligence officers. We were on a “school excursion” hosted by Uncle Sam to visit the National Aquarium. (Definitely worth a look).
Capital on the Capitol
The squirrels jump around in the lawn of the late afternoon and are (hopefully) oblivious to the fact that they are nut hunting and burying in the shade of the building which best symbolises the power of America, perhaps even more so than the White House. That is only the working office of the President.…
Food by Weight
This country still has the capacity to surprise me. Mainly with the little things – launching an air-strike against someone in the middle of the night on the other side of the globe, or firing off yet another shuttle from Florida are so passe. But this morning, sitting behind the Capitol in a hole in…
When in Rome Do What the Romans Do
In DC that translates, in my book at any rate, into going to “the Mall” – and not to a shopping centre but to the strip of beaten up turf around which Washington seems to turn.
You Have a Foggy Bottom
Any town that can straight faced call a Metro stop (and suburb) Foggy Bottom has to have something going for it. That the train line stop is underneath the George Washington University Hospital suggests someone in the planning department might have had a sense of humour as well. Indeed, this town has a lot going…
Docile in Los Angeles
We have become docile travelers, tamed and very compliant. Watch us be herded around the appallingly designed Terminal 4 of LAX by TSA teamsters trained (by Heathrow strumpets I imagine) in the cattle yards of Texas and who consequently have little discernible notion of what service looks or sounds like. Service is not their mission.…
With my Back to Harry’s, Evening…
It’s been far too long since I stopped here. Stopped at all now that I think about it. The seagulls stand around me silent and sulky. Not a crumb from my pie falls away to catch their eye. But the sky is sunset grey and the harbour is darkening through green to black – its…
Poverty Under Our Noses
Yesterday was one of those glittering Sydney days we all want to bottle and sell to anyone who glances our way – and which we delight to remind anyone living further south (or to anyone living in the UK) is a Spring treat you don’t really find anywhere else. I had reason to be down…
William Kamkwamba
When he was just 14 years old, Malawian inventor William Kamkwamba built his family an electricity-generating windmill from spare parts, working from rough plans he found in a library book. See his interview on the right hand side of this site. If this does not move you stone your heart is.
Taxi Story – The Iraqi (II)
(Slunk down in his seat, a quiet night on Macquarie Street). Hey, where do you want to go? St Leonards eh? Strange place. You had a long day? 5.30 in the morning start? You are crazy. It is long enough for me starting to drive at 3pm. I finish at 11pm. That is respectable. But…
Transcending Cultures
I was pleasantly, and genuinely surprised on my first visit to the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia to have a police car speed past me on the road from the airport – the surprise came from the familiarity of the car. It looked awfully like an Australian production vehicle. Sure enough, after a few days and…
I am Bulletproof Until the Lord Determines Otherwise
These words leapt off the page when I was reading this week an article on those from Vermont who have died in the current mid East conflict (Article here, titled Home of the Brave). Apparently Vermont, with a tradition of military sacrifice going back to the Revolution, has recorded more combat deaths per head of…
Le Tour or Blue Label?
I have to confess to some disappointment with our press. And ourselves perhaps. Cadel Evans slogs his heart out for three weeks to finish the Tour De France in second place, within seconds of being the first Australian to win the race outright, and all our front page press here gives itself over to is…
Victorian Invercargill
My childhood recollections of Invercargill include a bullock being shot, and burning my feet in a mound of white ash – the logs had long since stopped smoking and the pile of talcum soft ash in the middle of Don’s paddock was too much to resist. It hid orange hot coals underneath.
Sanaa Forge
When your jambiya (dagger) becomes blunt from whatever it is that blunts it (cutting up qat?), or if it cracks from the weight of far too many admiring glances, drop down to the local forge in the heart of Sanaa and have it beaten back into shape by barefoot smithys who don’t seem to notice…
Hear Ye, Hear Ye…
Larking about Trafalgar Square in hot woolen get up is not all it is cracked up to be. Especially in July when it is so terribly hot. Well, at least hot for London.
Sunday At Collaroy
On a day like today we are not in any winter thrall to speak of. Wave after flat wave softly slushes into the sand and dies in a sigh, to be gently gathered up again and returned to the white hot glitter of blue sea diamonds which are spread out today under a clear sky…
Emanuel Ax LipSync
The third row in the main hall of the Sydney Opera House is a good place to be if you want the music, in this case Mozart’s Piano Concerto No.22 in E Flat, K482 to wash over you. It does so literally and figuratively and the sound cocoons you up, inviting you to close your…
Top Secret Travel via Google Earth
In another life I was an imagery analyst in the military. Locked away in a bunker somewhere looking at images of all sorts from a myriad of sources. I enjoyed the stereoscopic work most of all, handling and caressing one dimensional data in a three dimensional illusion. It is an entirely convincing world – gamers…
EV Lacertae Shows Off
Display Courtesy of God, Text Courtesy of NASA “For many years scientists have known that our sun gives off powerful explosions, known as flares, that contain millions of times more energy than atomic bombs.
Books as Art
Over the years I have envied family and friends who have been settled in one place and who have libraries shelved. Mine have travelled with me for years, most tucked away in boxes packed with moth balls. Over the last few months I have been slowly getting some floor to ceiling shelves built and a…
Tourist in Sydney
Occasionally we have attempted to be a tourist in our own town but we usually stagger to a hotel, collapse, have a late breakfast on the sidewalk and then head home feeling somewhat cheated and resolved to be more “touristy”next time. This morning I walked with some friends along 10km of track only minutes from…
Grief in the Rubble
An echo in my ear when the towers came down in New York was an American woman on the news, completely mystified, asking why do “they hate us so much?” The question resonated over the incident and in the press over the next few weeks and months.
That eBook Screen!
I am still messing with this thing sent down by RocketXL. But it took someone else to point out,as they sat across the table from me, that the screen was not reflective. The sort of blinding obvious quality I would have liked to think I would have picked up but had not.
Dubai Tarmac
While the new airport is currently being built (a massive enterprise which we are all looking forward to seeing complete – the current airport crowds and bustle resemble the New Delhi railway station, not a first world air port) you can find yourself being shuttled to and from you aircraft by bus and walking to…
Melbourne in the Rear View Mirror
Well, in this case, in the side mirror. The perpetual (and petulant) feud between the two cities about which is the better of the two is no doubt only going to be exacerbated by news out today that Melbourne has eclipsed Sydney in the number of domestic tourists hitting town and now ranks as the…
The Ghosts of Jerash
They follow you around this place. Sometimes they silently appear from behind golden pillars with authentic fake coins to sell. Sometimes they rise out of the ground in the middle distance, shimmering among the rocks, and silently beckon to you to come and look at some ancient wonder, their dark robes flapping in the hot,…
eBook for Grandma?
After extracting the eBook (from RocketXL) out from the embracing clutches of the LA Weekly back pages I managed to resist being distracted by it for all of about an hour. After which I decided it was time for an early lunch and bit of an exploration. I was initially taken by the cover and…
eBook Surprises
The Internet is a pretty amazing place. But you all know that. Still, every now and then you get a pleasant surprise which is a change from the usual “shock and awe” that attempts to penetrate our dulled www senses. This surprise was a Sony PRS-505 eBook which landed on my desk today. But the story…
Cholon
Vietnam is endlessly fascinating. Because it is Vietnam of course. But mainly because its people are polite, energetic, entrepreneurial, curious, engaging and well, just Vietnamese. They are charged up about building their country and raising their standard of living in the pell mell pursuit of the West. Fortunately they are not completely corrupted by that…
Blogging Connections
A week ago I met with a fellow blogging traveler – traveler and blogger that is. A first for me, meeting someone through the internet that is and then catching up face to face. There was some irony in driving off to the meeting given there was a sense of ignoring all the advice (mostly…
Malaysia Remembered
With my chin cupped in my hand and elbow propped on the arm rest I found myself on short finals from Singapore into Kuala Lumpur reminiscing about my first experiences of the country. Actually they were not the absolute first – I think that was a project in primary school on alluvial tin mining in…
Singapore for Small Boys
There is a view of Singapore that gets my attention every single time. Sometimes you see it in all its glory as you fly into Changi from the south. Sometimes you catch a glimpse of it through the trees as you ride to the city in the cab. And if you indulge some of that…
Singapore Breakfast
I do know better, I really do. I rationalised the $25.00 hotel breakfast yesterday as being necessary since I had a busy day coming up. But it was an “American” breakfast of indifferent tomato’s, cardboard bacon, and rubber eggs. All leaving me with the impression they were cooked up the previous night and run under…
Singapore Rain
The evening started perfectly. I had turned the air-conditioner off, opened the windows and pushed aside the slats. Warm moist air flooded the room to the accompaniment of bird chatter and the background hum of air-conditioners hanging off walls in the lane I look onto. A few minutes after doing that, as if by invitation…
The Book Thief
When I read that the author’s father swore at him for making him cry when he read this book I did not feel quite so bad about my own reaction to it. The unusual narrator had me guessing at the very beginning (I picked this volume up on the way through the airport without having…
Singapore at 6 am
Getting around a city in the early hours always opens up a new vista on a place. This week I am staying down on the outskirts of Chinatown (Duxton Hill to be precise) and am therefore well away from the tourist and shopping end of town. A travel “snobbery” I am happy to admit and…
Dr Herbert Money
Sometimes people touch and shape your life when you least expect it. And continue doing so even after they have gone. David was one of those guys. Dr “Herb” Money was another, pictured here in his MA gown in the 1920s. It is hard to know where to start with Dr Money. At the beginning…
Waihola (13)
In 2006 David Paton, good friend, mentor, example, and inspiration died after experiencing an aggressive cancer.
Weeping With Mavis Staples
You can’t help it. You sit in the front row of a Mavis Staples concert and you are conscious every now and then of the grin you can’t wipe from your face. You wipe the tears as well but in the end you give up and let them run.
HMAS Sydney
I suspect I am not the only one to think so but there is no small stirring of pride when I read that the HMAS Sydney, heavy cruiser lost in battle 67 years ago, has been found sitting upright on the seabed, 6000′ down. Ambushed, shot up, carrying so many of her crew with her,…
Chicken Kiev
And while we are having expectations dislocated (previous post refers) 1) whoever imagined a Ukrainian (Kiev) Fashion Week would ever exist or that 2) a Ukrainian designer would catch our eye like this? Here is Ukrainian designer Olga Gromova’s collection. At least I was not disappointed by her first name which is in keeping with…
India Opens Your Mind
Not by inhaling some of its roadside greenery tamped into a bong but by travel. Which will do that to your mind (if you let it), regardless of where you go. But we usually start with such polarised preconceptions about India that any visit there dislocates our understanding of the place. This picture from a…
Buddy Guy Live
Keb Mo warmed us up last night at the Enmore Theatre. 45minutes felt like two, such was his ability to mesmerise us. A lanky blues guitarist who could rip those blues off just as easy as you please.
Atlantic Sunset
Somewhere over the Atlantic. I have a bazillion photos taken from aircraft windows and most are as boring as, um, bat excreta! (One of my brothers thinks that stuff is actually very interesting. Strange lad). The one time I flew over Indonesia during the day (the transit is usually done at night) and peered into…
Pussycat pussycat where have you been…
…I’ve been to London to to visit the Queen. Well, if not actually visit her then to wander around some of her parks. Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park to be precise. And what did you find there? Londoners no less. Strange folk, the lot of them.
I Fell in Love with A Cemetery
Yup, you read that correctly. In the middle of a busy Sydney suburb, next to the Pacific Highway, is a snapshot of Victoriana, the discovery of which was totally startling.
A Letter to Jonathan Ashton
Dear Jonathan, It’ s been a year today since you died. A year since that plane accident and the destruction of the indestructible. This letter has been rattling around in my head for a few weeks now as this day approached. Why not write it earlier? I have no idea. “Why write at all?” I…
Typhoon from a C130 Ramp
Sometimes a picture just grabs you. And there is not much to say about it. In fact the less said the better given it stands on its own so well. And then…
General Powell somewhere on the Iraq-Turkey Border
I have always enjoyed (and admired) this photo of the General. It contains a few interesting elements. For me at least. Let me try them on you.
Clubbing in Malaysia
It would be disingenuous of me to create an impression that I am a clubber. Far from it. There is a banality about that scene that repels rather than attracts. Each to their own I guess.
Corey Delaney and Teenagers
Corey – blond, skinny, cam jacketed and of the yellow glasses fame – has gotten plenty of press and has polarised our communities. And not just here but around the world as this link to the Times Online in the UK attests. But…
Backyard Beasts – Bat
Eons ago I started a series on beasts that live in our backyard. It is tempting to imagine that in a city of 4million fauna is sparse. But the truth is we have plenty of fauna to distract us.
Taxi Driver – The Pakistani
I jumped a cab in the city yesterday to rush back to a meeting and found myself sitting next to a tall (that was apparent even though he was sitting down) young man in a salwar kameez.
The Sky is Falling…
Well, a satellite anyway. A US spy satellite at that. Landing possibly near you in February or March – forecasting their return is as precarious as forecasting their launches.
Time to Drink the Toilet Water
Tom Hanks has a very explicit house rule for his new boofhead dog of a pet (Hooch) when he instructs him most sternly that there is to be no drinking from the toilet. The good folks of Orange County (CA) are turning a deaf ear to mother’s advice and are going to be doing just…
To the Victor go the…large mounds
Battlefields have a strange attraction. Gettysburg had an impact on me which was all the more powerful for being so thoroughly unexpected. The humanity of it all was perversely rammed home by understanding the sheer scale of the slaughter. In the case of Gettysburg the preservation of the slaughter-yard otherwise called a battlefield adds to…
Thanks Heath…
Heck of a way to do it but thanks for driving our greedy self absorption, reflected in the stock market headlines, off the front pages of the papers and reminding us all of what is really important in this all too brief run we have.
Sweetwater Flower Girl
That is what her name means in Pashto, the language of the Pashtuns. It is a more poetic and uplifting post title than the more dramatic one I was concocting. Here she is, her face staring down from a poster twenty feet high in the Forbidden Palace, Beijing.
Pharaoh’s Pharmaceuticals
There is something that resonates deep within us when we read about Oetzi, or are mesmerised by a mummified corpse of the Andes or Nile. We connect somehow with bodies preserved in peat, having a sense that, though long dead, they can somehow still speak to us. We will them to open their eyes, especially…
The Camera Trap
If you have ever had a video camera fixed to your eye at an airshow, or at the car race track you will understand what I mean by the camera trap – so fixated are you on capturing the moment (to be stored forgotten in your camera) that you miss the real experience. When filming…
Vale Nigel Hankin
Readers can be very kind, even if it is sad news they bring. Ray Pearce has just brought to my attention the death of Nigel Hankin, a COMPLETELY eccentric, gentle, likable old chap who won our hearts when we met him in India. Thanks Ray, I had missed it.
Making a Molehill Out of Mt Everest
One of the more gratifying experiences I had when serving as an officer in the military was to hear, in the wee hours of the morning, after midnight when no one was stirring – except perhaps those Russian submarines – one of the junior staff, emptying bins and sweeping floors, declare he was forsaking his…
Cricket: India versus England, Australia, NZ, Sri Lanka…No one wins.
It was a World Series Clash held in Mumbai. It was hot. In the mid thirties and steaming, with the heavy salt air hammering the city with a humid blanket that never lifted. The tamarind trees around the ground had their foliage blasted off and shade was notional at best. Sri Lanka was batting, there…
Sydney Has itself An Indian Summer
Memories of summers in younger years always include rounds of cricket. In the driveway. On the beach. At a picnic. School days. Games against Waitaki Boys High or St Kevins where more passion than technical skill invariably led the play. Later it was getting down to the Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG)
One Unnatural Way to Die in Australia
You can call it Macho Drowning. Pigheaded Drowning. I know Better Drowning. Don’t tell me What to Do Drowning. I Am Stronger than the Rules Drowning. Or just Plain Dumb Drowning. OK, it is not as exotic as a Taipan bite or being bitten by a Red Back Spider while on the toilet (I have…
Are Cartoons Literature?
There is a general acceptance that cartoons can indeed be literature although one would need to be selective about which cartoons were selected for the library shelves. As ten years olds, or thereabouts we used to devour Commando Comics. One of our friends had a father who absolutely prohibited “this rubbish” from his house –…
12 Things to Tell Your CIA Captors
The news that David Hicks is out of prison (released from Adelaide (Australia) prison this morning) has barely rated a mention here. “David who?”, you may well ask. Otherwise known as Detainee 002. Or perhaps more infamously, the only person to have been convicted by the US as part of the the post September 11…
The Most Powerful Tribe in Iraq
Having spent a few weeks in Baghdad this year means I am a bit like a reformed smoker – paying close attention to as many related issues as I can and probably driving people crazy with my newfound interest in the place. But it does mean that occasionally you find articles which provide interesting and…
Shantaram – Buying Your Own Christmas Present Can be a Gift
I must have been asleep to have missed this one. A novel published in 2003 that is 350,000 words off the pen of first time novelist Gregory David Roberts. I found it while shopping for Christmas gifts for others. I often buy books at random, if only to expand my reading horizons.
It is Best Not To Mix too Much
“If you want a good neighbor, you have to have a place for everybody. It’s best not to mix too much.” Nadav Garmi, Rakafet One of the lesser known but interesting facts about the composition of Israel’s armies during their so called wars of liberation and independence (and defence) was the Arab component which made…
Faith in Politics
Australia has a new Prime Minister who appears to have the convictions of a practising Christian. What difference does that make you might wonder? Hard to say at this point. Previously we have had Prime Ministers and ministers who have been ambiguous about their faith – you can never pin them down as to what…
Best City in the World
We all want to claim that title for our home towns but on a day like today, when Sydney is at its humid, sunny, sparkling best, it is hard to not want to say that we live in a pretty neat part of the scrub.
Scarlett on Digital Canvas
Painting in oils is something I don’t do enough of but it is one of those activities which is brilliantly eccentric (especially if you land up in a collective of wanna-be’s in an evening class (a “brush of artists”?)) and something that eats up the hours in a flash. Therapeutic in a word.
Russia Sexes it Up
When I first started really paying attention to the Russian navy (I think it was a P3C Orion flight that did it) the Russians had been poking around in this part of the world for years. Sending their subs out into the Pacific and holidaying in Vietnam at Cam Ranh Bay with their warships for…
“We are Better Behaved These Days” – CIA
Let me just strap you to this board. Better hand me your coffee before you lie down. Now, if you don’t mind just hold still while I wrap your face in clingwrap so you can’t breath. Comfortable?
Emanuel Schmidt Trio
I am a fan of Emanuel Schmidt. Not his biggest fan. I think that medal goes to his wife who is a pretty vocal supporter when she attends any of his gigs. And I am in line behind a whole bunch of others. But his passion for good music is infectious.
Tehran Intelligence
The US Government has decided the Iranian nuclear program is not what the politicians thought it might be – an excuse to try and thump Tehran. I can imagine the intelligence analysts who put that assessment together must have been in a number of minds about publishing their National Intelligence Estimate. Which you can find…
Nodding to Satanic Verses
I find myself reading Salman Rushdie wanting to nod my head in that way peculiar to those from South Asia. A gentle nodding and bobbing and swinging all in the one motion, through all three axes
Yemen Airport
The taxi down the runway after landing at Sanaa, the capital of Yemen, is the first hint that this place is a little extraordinary. Here are Su22 and MiG29 Soviet aircraft flying circuits (here is one with its parachute still dragging), and a number of them parked in their revetments. For a plane spotter it…
Flight Loads in the US – Getting Some
If I was was to reflect on my travel this last 12months I would ruminate over some of the unexpected destinations I found myself heading towards, obscure places visited and always the remarkable people I have met. Some old friends. And some new ones. The process of getting there has been interesting as well. The…
Sydney Storm
Some dogs smell them coming and hide under the hedge. Others smell them coming and spin on their chains in insane, barely comprehensible excitement. I relate to the latter.
Leunig Lessons For Life
It is that time of the year again when those of us who have resorted to online newspapers pick up a print copy – the Leunig calendar is out. Was out, on Saturday. His ability to distill the essence of an idea in a few simple lines, and convey a poignant message at the same…
Evel Knievel
Here is a chap who attempted to kill himself year on year and yet he managed to survive until his 69th year. Passed away from an illness or illnesses that may well have come about from bashing himself up with his motorcycles. And other vehicles.
A Land Flowing with Honey and Diesel
Recollections of an attempt to seize raw honeycomb from a live hive, nestled out of the way in a willow tree. A Land Flowing with Honey and Diesel A Story by PickledEel
Norman Mailer and Bad Sex
I do like this piece of news. It tickles my irony bone. So to speak. On my shelves I have a select handful of books on writing ( I know, I need more). Perhaps the most useful in terms of unleashing my pen has been Stephen King’s On Writing, a surprisingly well written piece on…
Singapore Sign of Our Times
Notice anything odd about this sticker? It is the reverse (inside) view of a Singapore car registration sticker. Taken as we drove up the freeway when its message caught my eye. It is pretty nondescript actually and I paid it no attention for most of the trip.
Snow Dump in New York
Thanksgiving 2003 We made it to the meeting this afternoon after scrubbing up and brushing the light dusting of snow out of our hair. But were feeling the cold. After slushing and sliding our way down through Manhattan we made it into the hospital and into the manager’s office.
What are the Churches Not Doing?
I am no social commentator, not do I have aspirations to be one. But as a “member” occasionally things just leap out and slap you when they point at our society and highlight our shortcomings. In the Sydney Morning Herald this weekend there was an interesting article about a small company which has built its…
Hidden Piper in Xian
It is a not uncommon cliche of those who observe China that these are a people comfortable being in close proximity with each other. They live right on top of each other and being comfortable around other human beings is something that is part of the their DNA it seems. Certainly they have a sense…
Drawing Attention to a Killer
Here is an interesting dilemma which I find rather intriguing. Take your spent fuel rods and bury them somewhere other than near the Hudson River. Then warn off the accidental and the curious who might want to dig the stuff up again – not a good idea if you are planning on dying in your…
Lashes for Being Raped – Saudi Hypocrisy
There is a breathtaking hypocrisy in the news floating around overnight that a Saudi woman has been awarded 200 lashes and a prison sentence because she was in a car with a man who was not her relative. Apparently she was gang raped in that trip. The lads get off with a comparatively light sentence…
New York Blizzard
Yesterday afternoon I caught the Amtrack up from Philly. I planned on working but it was freezing outside and warm as toast inside. I think I only heard three bars of clickety clack music and I was asleep. I woke just as we arrived at Penn Station. I had an address for the hotel which…
Solomon Islands – Frame Up
We have only been here three days and already we have learned the routine. Get going at first light. It is as humid as a warm bath but at least the sun is not frying us. Work like crazy with the sweat sluicing off us. Hats are necessary first to keep the salty water out…
I Married a Dog
There is a wonderful line quipped in Ghostbusters by Dr Venkman (Bill Murray) when he rather nonchalantly explains to his colleagues that his girlfriend, now turned into a hellish demon with a canine disposition of Cerberus, is just that, a dog. “So, she’s a dog…” It is typical of Venkman’s understated throw away humour but…
Confused Chinese Pirates
In the spirit of the craziness that can come out of China, witting or otherwise (movie titles and packing instructions) the following is hillarious. At first glance this DVD cover looks pretty normal. But take a close look at the back cover. The pirate graphics specialist has grabbed text from a variety of places to…
Escape from Colditz
My boyhood years were spent with my siblings in small rural town in Otago, New Zealand. More rural than town, our upbringing had a Huck Finn flavour about it in some respects. A well established and fond memory are the “contraptions” built by one of the brothers, the building of one being distilled in this…
Walking Through the Roman City of Jerash
I took some photos and video when in Jordan recently. An earlier blog refers to that visit but the video gives a better feel for that place. I loved being able to walk through a place that gave such a sense of historicity yet connection with its inhabitants – all at the same time.
Eating Squirrels in New Jersey
For those of who are not Americans, and/or who live outside of the CONUS there is a quip which explains the quirky, bizarre and just plain weird. It is simply “only in the US”, usually said in a condescending tone, the combination of which helps the listener understand that there is a rational reason for…
Born in A Solomon Islands Dog Kennel
On our third day at Fauabu we had a look at the existing medical facilities. They are pretty primitive. The clinics to which the locals come, emerging from the jungle along invisible tracks, are extremely rudimentary. It is the post natal and post “op” care that we are building this ward for. And if we…
Not so Sleepy Wellington – but Still Windy
I thought when I interviewed with Eric that my next overseas trip was going to be back into Asia but I ended up in New Zealand last week. In Wellington to be precise. Which is where the New Zealanders hide their politicians. In a building that the locals call the Beehive. It kind of looks…
Jews are Smarter than the Average Bear?!
Race is repository of IQ points apparently. According to a reporter sympathetic to the notion and who attended a symposium on the subject at the American Enterprise Institute. Certain Jews apparently demonstrate higher IQs than other demographics. Some Jewish communities apparently flash up an average of 107-115+ of those points when the global average is…
Paul Tibbets and That Nuclear Bomb
Paul Tibbets made news again yesterday with the announcement of his death. (NYT Obituary) Paul was the pilot who flew the Enola Gay (named after his mother) from which the nuclear weapon was dropped on Hiroshima. The news of his death prodded surprising reactions from some in the the newspaper blogs I have been reading.…
Truck Trip to Fauabu (Foo arm boo)
We drove into the night from Auki along a track through the jungle with no lights. The sky was a heavy velvet blue drape that gave no sense of where we were or what time of the night it was. We forded creeks and crept past silent villages, thatch and lattice barely visible in the…
Possums (12)
In 2005 David Paton, good friend, mentor, example, and inspiration died after experiencing an aggressive cancer. I flew to New Zealand to attend his funeral. On the flight back I started writing some notes that were intended to capture something of what David meant to me. Taking a deep breath I thought I would share…
Sydney Turns it On
It must be Sunday – time to get back into the Blog! There is always a temptation to go searching for inspiration outside this town but the fact of the matter is there is enough material in this town to inspire and convict – you don’t always see what is right under your nose. A…
Bloggers Choice Awards
Many of you kindly voted for the Pickled Eel by clicking on the icon to the right. The 2008 Bloggers Choice Awards are now running so the counter has been reset. If you have a few spare moments I would be very grateful for a vote out there. Its not a bad way to get…
National Thong Day
Where I grew up thongs were known as jandals. Who knows where that word ever came from – short for Japanese sandal apparently! Australians call them thongs while in the US they are flip flops. American thongs of course are much more attractive – though that always depends on who is wearing them. Same rule…
In Defence of Private Contactors
Like most I was appalled by the videos on YouTube showing the cavalier actions by Blackwater contractors engaging “targets” without any apparent rules of engagement which might have gone some way to determining if the vehicles bearing down on them on the highway were in fact a threat or not. I am not sure if…
Bomb Harvest
Imagine there was a new Unabomber at work in the US, sending letter bombs out across the nation. Now imagine there was one in every state, so that 164 letter bombs went off in one year, killing 36 people, 15 of whom were children. Would that make headlines? So commences a review by Paul Byrne…
Midnight at Auki
We arrived late into the port of Auki. The ferry slowed and the stern got caught in its own wake, lifted it up and tipping us forward in a slow motion pitch. Initially we could see nothing but eventually a row of lights on the dark water or hanging in the sky (each was not…
The Sanatorium
John “the Global Bedouin” has pointed me at Writer’s Cafe and otherwise encouraged me to get some of my writing up there. I have been dusting off some short stories to that end but thought I would start with recollections of my first attempt at a short story. The original is lost but the imagery…
Tale of Two Beaches
He was wearing a small trenchcoat and looked a bit like a pint sized Robert Redford, with a clichéd shock of blond hair and an open and engaging impish face.But his shoes! His shoes were black, patent-leather-shiny treads with sharply pointed toes and impossibly long. At least a half size again and rising slightly at…
Pickled Eel Interviewed
Eric over at Travel Blogs asked me a few questions recently – they are listed below. He posted my replies up on his quality Travel Blog site which he has managed to built into a rather good travel blog in a short period of time. The questions were: Pickled eel… Is that a delicacy you’d…
Post Iraq Muse – An Introspective
The muse have fled, or so it would seem. Best I have been able to do these last ten days is drag out an old journal entry from the Solomons! I drove from the airport directly to work and had half a day at the desk before I headed home before I fell asleep in…
On Ironbottom in a Flatbottom
The ferry for Malaita was supposed to get away early in the afternoon. But as with anything in the Pacific Islands no one really knew the timetable. We were supposed to do this on Tuesday. Now it is Thursday. Be gone at midday. Get going after dinner. Symptomatic of all this madness is the fact…
I am the Captain of the Taxi – To the Tune of Amazing Grace
There are moments in life that are just laugh out loud crazy. And in this case slightly alarming. The high speed run from Amman to Queen Alia Airport this afternoon was with a very pleasant and energetic driver who told me he was ten years in the Jordanian Army, retiring as a Captain and for…
Taxi Story – The Jordanian
(In Jordan. To and from Jerash). Hello, my name is Ishmael. You want to go to Jerash? At this time of the day? OK, no problem, no problem. You want to visit craft store for souvenirs? You have enough souvenirs. OK. No problem. Did you know Ismael was related to Ibrahim in the Bible? It…
Jerash – Roman City
Since the time I was a kid I wanted to walk around Roman ruins. There was something magical about all those columns. It was a desire fuelled even more when, for a year at high school, we studied Roman art and architecture and columns and plinths, capitals and inscriptions in detail. A year of Ancient…
970,000 American Casualties. Is Iraq Worth It?
Naturally even departing Baghdad is extraordinary. How many international airports require you to pull over on the approach road, empty your magazines and then dry-fire your weapons to demonstrate nothing is “live”? No others spring to mind. Then drop your bags on the road outside, in a large concrete revetment while a bomb dog crawls…
Baghdad Rooftop Reflection – with some help from the Frogs
At about 11pm a half moon hangs in the sky. I’m sitting on a flat roof reclining in a dusty poolside recliner (though there is no pool), in a hot breeze. Just listening and watching. It is still but not quiet. This city does not sleep. But it is a softer city in this dusky…
A Lizard Kills a Stereotype
Shouts and commands from behind a walled compound yesterday had me carefully checking over the roof balustrade. It all sounded a bit urgent and well, commando-ish. The wall encloses a large park like area and through the trees I could see AK47 armed, headband wrapped men dashing forward and heading our way. I had to…
Another Blogging Traffic Tool – Maybe Worth A Look
I don’t normally have the patience to bother messing around with the tools that supposedly promote, expose, advertise or otherwise make claims to broaden the readership of this blog. On the other hand something that claims to do all those things without me doing much more than inserting some html is worth at least a…
("Mandela’s") Answer for Iraq
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? And who are you not to be? You are a child of…
An Obscenity We Don’t See or Feel – Is Still an Obscenity
I was going to leave off writing about Baghdad for a spell – it becomes a bit self absorbing after a while. Then this morning a bomb rattled the windows. As I got to the roof only seconds later to get a fix on the location a second one went off. The smoke from the…
My Name is Malik and I Live in Baghdad
My name is Malik and I drive to work each day in Baghdad. I leave my house in the suburbs. There are palms and olive trees, and a small patch of grass outside my house. The house is walled in like many houses in the Middle East. But I have grown up in a fenced…
Baghdad Layers
I spent an hour on the roof this afternoon reading Duiker’s “Ho Chi Minh” until the sweat and dust got too much. But its good to get out of the room. The Apaches were tooling around again. They don’t do laps here for practise so I was tuned in to what else might be going…
On the Lighter Side
Part of the preparation for visiting a place like this is to have a “Run Away Quick” bag. More colloquially known as the F^%* off Quick Bag in another organisation I once worked for. Or perhaps simply a “Grab Bag”. Its not a bad habit to have when you are travelling. Have all the survival…
There is Nothing Like Death to Make you Feel Alive
What is it about travelling in India that makes it so attractive? The red forts? The Taj? The madness? The suburban cricket? All of those things, to be sure. But to my own way of thinking it has something to do with the general precariousness of life. That in itself is not the attractive thing.…
It Is all A Matter of Perspective
People wonder “why on earth Iraq?” The almost universal and consistent response to the idea that I was travelling here was disbelief. The only exception was my family I think – seems that they are pretty used to bizarre destinations. Would you travel to Baghdad? Assuming you had a reasonably legitimate reason to do so…
An IED Survivor
Every day you may make progress. Every step may be fruitful. Yet there will stretch out before you an ever-lengthening, ever-ascending, ever-improving path. You know you will never get to the end of the journey. But this, so far from discouraging, only adds to the joy and glory of the climb. Sir Winston Churchill In…
An Evening in Baghdad
A dog across the road barks and gets our attention. We wander across the roof top and gaze down into the dark to see what has distracted it. Nothing appears straight away but then a modified Ford pickup truck drives though. Modified with a gun turret mounted on its chassis. A soldier sits in the…
Guns and Dogs, Dogs and Guns
They do seem to go together. Certainly in my boyhood experience, which was an overwhelming positive chapter, guns went with dogs. Specifically they went together up at David Paton’s place where dogs seemed to be everywhere. A trip in the truck was one taken with any number of pillion passengers, their claws digging into your…
Saddam’s Dias – Shifting and Fleeting
Every now and then we do a quick run down to the “shops” if only to get out of the house to stop from going stir crazy. On the way you drive past those crossed swords. And if you want to run the gauntlet of contractors and their armoured vehicles and the military parked in…
Apache Flares and Casevacs
The wind is still hot today but it has swung in from another direction and the dust has been pushed away overnight. The sky is blue and clear though everything is still covered in dust. From the roof I watched through the nodding fronds of a date palm as an Apache helicopter pirouetted through the…
Dante’s Inferno – with Choppers Thrown In
The dust storm blows in and obscures the horizon, limited as it is. The eucalypts, quite pervasive here, are dusted in the fine desert sand that drops over everything with the consistency of talc. The lemon trees in the garden are coated with it and the date palm fronds seem to sag a little lower…
Iraq’s Ozymandias
After they gained their independence from Britain some in India wanted to remove from sight any reminders of the British rule. So a park was created, just outside Delhi, in which could be placed every statue commemorating a British character. Each city was asked to pull down their statues and to send them to this…
What is "Normal" in Baghdad?
This, as everyone knows, is a fortified city. In every sense. In the Green Zone, or International Zone as it is now being called, no one takes any chances and a drive down a side street through the suburbs is a drive through canyons of concrete walls, check points and roadblocks. Everyone is on a…
Baghdad Short Finals
I asked for a window seat (am always keen to see where I am going, or have something other than my neighbour to lean on if the snoring starts). And of course I end up with the most heavily scratched, scored and sandblasted semi opaque window I have seen in a long time. At least…
Make your Money and Run, Boy
Queen Alia International Airport, Jordan It is a fresh and clear morning and the traffic pretty much non existent as we ran from the city to Queen Alia. Immigration and passports and other officials were sleepy and inattentive, the immigration guy slumped down in his chair below the counter catching some sleep. The place is…
It is All About Hospitality…
Thought I would share a touching moment. On my first night here a young man dressed snappily in the hotel issue waist coat appeared at my door to turn down my bed. (Can someone tell what that is all about – after being on the road for more than 20 years I still don’t get…
Panorama from Mt Nebo
Well part of it anyway. This composite view looks down the mountain and across the Jordan Valley. Views to the right complete the picture in terms of understanding the terrain but given the camera flattens everything and depth is lost I have left it out. This gives some idea at least, and the general direction…
Mt Nebo – Moses’ Lookout
As with wandering Jerusalem and other parts of this world there is no expectation that the sites you visit are the real thing. After all there are numerous ideas about where Jesus was born, crucified and even buried. But knowing you are wandering the same place and taking in similar views is enough to have…
Presidential Security – ATough Gig
Back in 1982 I was caught up as a minor minion in the security surrounding the visit of Queen Elizabeth II to Canberra. Sorry, Canbra. It’s a thankless task although on the day she and Phil were leaving town I had the good fortune to have her slow and and wave at me, Phil getting…
I am the Good Shepherd – of Amman
Running around today and finally finishing early by Arab business standards – about 8pm. Back to back meetings and dashing about town. Actually that gives the wrong impression – at about mid afternoon the city gridlocked and we crawled. Locals blamed the visit by the Italian Prime Minister for streets being closed, hastily assuring me…
CIA’s Jason Bourne Has Arab Friends
Watching a movie in another country is always an interesting experience, especially if the English original is dubbed in one language, subtitled in another and you are left with no English. Happens occasionally in Asia. Then there is the different etiquette expected – trying breaking any of the rules about where to sit in Singapore…
Its an Arab World
Outside the window the normal hotel pool parade is going on. Young fit men strut their stuff. So do fat men who are just beyond caring and who waddle around defying anyone their right to a place in the sun. They all spreadeagle in the sun and defy it to do its worst. Some hairy…
Short Finals into Amman, Jordan
We fly up along the Saudi/Iraq border. The haze over the Arabian peninsular means there is little to see. As we swing into Jordan the air clears and the landscape sharpens up. There is a lot that is familiar to Australian eyes. Sweeping dry riverbeds carve up the landscape. But there is a constant dun…
Dubai International Airport
This is something of a reunion and there is the air of the familiar as I transit through here. We landed at 5.30 am but time of arrival or departure seems to make little difference here since it is always crowded with transients. This is definitely a utilitarian hub, focused squarely on shifting people through.…
On the Road Again: Middle East Diary
Some unexpected travel came out of the trip to London last month so here I am on the road again. Heading this time into the Middle East, a part of the world that has grown on me. Emirates EK419 Departures, especially those on long trips are now to be dreaded, regardless of how glossy the…
That BioLuminescence
In a previous blog I referred to the bioluminescence which was lighting up the waves at Manly. By the time I got back there a couple of nights later with a camera the show had subsided and while the electric shocks were still flashing through the water they were not as frequent. And a camcorder…
Double Fechr Blog Promotion
I decided a while ago that this forum is really aimed at well, me. It’s useful mix of journal and writing and other creativity though there are many more hours I could spend in here! But that decision meant I have stayed away from trying to place Google ads and all of that sort of…
A Japanese Haircut
I was only looking for a straightforward haircut, much like this young bloke is getting from his Dad. (Didn’t we all hate haircuts from our Dad?! Dad to kid with hacked hair “Hey, what’s the difference between a good and a bad haircut?” Silent pause. “Two weeks! Ha, hah. Now put the clippers away for…
A Drug Arm Proposition
Our team hit the streets again last night and we patrolled the northern beaches, checking out some new sites and visiting the well known haunts of kids (and older) who find themselves at a drunk or high loose end on Saturday night. It was very quiet, even though the weather was decidedly warmer and the…
1788 Connection with Kensington
(Notes from a Kensington Coffee Shop – across from the St Mary Abbots Church) Moss leaks down the stone in green shadows, crowning the heads of stone characters in a very hip luminescence which would earn high praise in the night club across the High Street. From outside, the stained windows are slate black and…
Australian War Memorial Me109
And chasing G for George (see previous post) is this Me109. Still working on those Canberra highlights!
Lancaster Bomber G for George
Canberra, pronounced “Canbra” by locals and properly by everyone outside the country, is a large country town which we otherwise defer to as our capital city. It is home to an outstanding war memorial – the Australian War Memorial no less. It does an excellent job of being a memorial to our fallen and to…
View from a Doha Rooftop
The boys are setting up the wide screen. A dodgy connector is slowing us down. So I take my lime and cold water up onto the roof and step around the water containers and sat dishes and make my way to the edge. The sun has just gone down and a heavy haze of dust…
Hong Kong Waterfront
I am not sure what to make of Hong Kong. There is something about all that glass and steel which is very appealing. But the Kowloon markets, alleys, narrow streets, dodgy goods, poor lighting, gazillion product types, and general hawker atmosphere that tugs even more firmly at my sensibilities than the western elements of this…
Hard and Buff Kitbag
This travel advice, intended to make your vacation (sorry, evection) all the smoother by removing the aggravation associated with creased clothes, and other issues to do with packing garments is a little gem that has been floating around in my PC for years. I have always wondered what the doohickey is and what dictionary provided…
Moslem Culture in Qatar
The community mosques, as distinct from the large buildings in the middle of the cities, are just that, focused on their communities. They are places of worship but are open centres of community life as well. OK, at least for the men. I remember talking with some men exiting a mosque in the markets of…
Qatar: Dig a Little and Unearth the Local
Qatar is another one of those booming places in the Middle East that are a strange mix of old, ancient, modern, Arab and American. All popping up out of the desert. I walked this evening from the hotel, parked on the waters edge, out through the dark to a shopping mall. It was like walking…
Starbucks Religious Police
I am often confronted by people who are surprised I want to travel to Saudi, or other places in the Middle East. There is an assumption that it is not safe. Saudi is as safe as most other places and I was able to walk the streets late at night without any concern for my…
Girls of Riyadh
The book was making some noise last month, even though it was published more than a year ago. I confess to not reading it but the attention this book gets reminds me of the cultural differences that exist in a place like Saudi. For all its Western ways, and veneer, there are some things that…
Network Heaven`
Remember these two? Maybe not. Visit them here. Two girlfriends, orphaned in the streets of Sanaa, the capital of Yemen. They come to mind again as I help Anne with her work at Network Heaven. A few years ago she stumbled over an opportunity to donate corporate goods, otherwise headed for the rubbish dump for…
Sydney or Melbourne?
Getting more attention in the Sydney Morning Herald today than the collapse in the share market is the news that Robert de Niro has snubbed Sydney and elected Melbourne as the site of his Tribeca restaurant, Nobu. de Niro may well settle his refined nosh shop in Melbourne for all the right reasons and I…
Japanese Kill Sailors – Then Shake Hands
I understand those of my grandfathers generation who never wanted to speak about the Japanese (or Germans) or only spoke about them with hatred. But I am always moved by those who experienced those times and who have been able to get past the wrongs, and if unable to forgive, are at least able to…
Camel Headshot Marks the 200th Post
I arrived back in Australia today and opened an email from younger brother who previously featured with his latest toy at this post. This photo, down from the Northern Territory, shows him with another toy – a Ruger 30-06 in stainless steel. And the end result of messing with that toy – if you are…
Harry Potter and the Chinese Empire
I woke this morning to find a copy of the NYT at the door – unusual in San Francisco where you normally get a wheelbarrow load of state and local papers. Mainly full of advertising. Anyway, the NYT carried an article about how the Chinese, impatient for the release of the final volume of Harry…
Heathrow Security – A Joke?
I see the International Air Transport Association (IATA) have grumped about the apparent security mess at Heathrow. Glad they have said what the rest of us were thinking. Especially when they seem so out of step with everyone else. Especially the ridiculousness of the one bag rule. Never mind that the screeching middle aged women…
In Lincoln Inn Fields
Lincoln Inn Fields is a very pleasant London park well hidden from the regular tourist beat, not far from Fleet Street and the British Museum. When I dropped past it was home to a couple of homeless men who were stretched out asleep in the sun, while other “classes” played tennis nearby. The sleepers were…
Kensington Gardens
Every day is a new experience. And full of new things. Of discovery. Even if that discovery is not pioneering and others have been here before you. And even if the names of the places are so very familiar. I step into Kensington Gardens from off Bayswater Road and am confronted by a sprawling acreage…
The British Museum
This museum is a zoo! A human zoo. Summer in London and its school holidays and they are here from all corners of the earth looking at all corners of the earth. Fancy a quiet afternoon wandering a whisper quiet, hushed monument? Best go somewhere else. Here a heaving, chattering throng, charging through ancient Egypt,…
A Grand Piano in McDonalds – Now I Have Seen Everything!
It might be raining in the rest of England but London is strangely unaffected. The Thames has a boiling roil of water heading down it and the broken banks visible as you tun to land at Heathrow suggest things are not as the should be. But except for the perfectly inane 24 hour coverage on…
An Earls Court Lunch
The service is unclear, hesitant and slow. Fish and chips are de rigueur in this part of the world are they not? So let’s order that. I sit on a high-stool 3 metres from a staring bank of faces captured by a double decker bus, which is leaning towards me as it tilts at rest…
The Qat, the Jambiya and the Nokia
There has to be a profound story in a heading like that. Sadly not here though. Qat, referred to below, is chewed by most. Even our government employed guide and escort (I am being polite – read “guard”) admitted to being hooked on the stuff and the only reason we did not see his cheeks…
Chewing the Qat on a Sunday Afternoon
Its the Sabbath, prayers are done (for a few hours at least) and the family has an afternoon to kill. In Sanaa, capital of Yemen, there are few leisure options up your sleeve. Many head down to the qat (chat) markets, pick up a few kilos of qat leaves then head for the hill. To…
Mama’s Bistro, Ballan
Small towns scattered around the goldfields of Victoria offer a certain charm thanks to their architecture, their memorials, Mechanics Institute Halls, old churches, and just all round rural charm. Other towns offer none of that, especially those which have lost their way after freeways have diverted traffic around them. Ballan, squeezed between the railway and…
Bastille Day in Dunolly
The discussion about small towns is entirely appropriate given I have spent the last week visiting a few of them. On Saturday evening I had the good fortune to sit around an open fire in the Cockatoo Cafe in Dunolly. It was near freezing outside so the fire was a good start. Even more rewarding…
Why Bother Visiting Country Towns?
Bruce Elder in the Sydney Morning Herald asks this question and asks for suggestions that might help small communities attract more visitors. What do you want to see when you visit these small places? Given we are visiting a comparatively small town at the moment, and given that we spent a cosy afternoon in a…
Ballarat
One of those towns you love to hate, usually based on bad experiences with weather or traffic, school geography project or resident zealot that just suck the inspiration from you. On the other hand it is hard to not admire a town that has managed to retain so much of its heritage as part of…
Puckapunyal – another Hume Memory
Travelling down the Hume Highway invokes all sorts of memories, building a thirty year tableau of images. The previous two blogs refer. Once upon a time the highway took you though Seymour but now days the freeway blasts you past and you can’t see the town at all. Nearby is the Army training area of…
Graf Spee and the Battle of the River Plate
The storyteller was my class teacher who also was the school headmaster. Once each day he would perch on the edge of his desk and regale us with stories. Sometimes read, a chapter at a time. Sometimes told, also a chapter at a time. I was thoroughly enthralled by one story, of little guys ganging…
Hume Highway
Stretches of asphalt and/or bitumen are not supposed to be evocative (unless they are runways!) but this stretch of road which links Sydney and Melbourne is 880km of highway that invokes a lot of memories when I travel it. Oddly enough it is quite provocative in other ways as well. The foremost memory I have…
Taxi Story – The Iranian Sunni
An eclectic series comprising conversations with Taxi drivers, initially composed when Sydney papers were complaining about the service provided by cab drivers. In most cases I am happy to say “forget the service, listen to the story.” In this town, at least, most taxi drivers are foreigners and all seem to have a personal story…
The Run (11)
Previous Chapter In 2005 David Paton, good friend, mentor, example, and inspiration died after experiencing an aggressive cancer. I flew to New Zealand to attend his funeral. On the flight back I started writing some notes that were intended to capture something of what David meant to me. Taking a deep breath I thought I…
Brunei Customs Officials Get Their Own Back
The first law of travel is “Never irritate the person in uniform who lets you in or out of a country.” There are some very sensible reasons for that. They are not paid very much. In a country’s defence and security they often are the first in line but the last to know. They work…
Stonehenge
It is 0430 in the morning. In this part of the world the sky is light and on this particular morning surprisingly clear. Frank has roused me from bed with the promise of a farmer’s breakfast . He won’t tell me where. “Just get going boy, we need to beat the crowds.” Crowds lining up…
Hotel Reservation Resource
The online reservation game is a pretty competitive one but that is to the advantage of those of us who travel. Hotels usually offer blocks of discounts to companies who promote their businesses across the web. Like plenty of others before me I have found the online booking is a brilliant way to get a…
Beijing Street Barber
There are places you visit that catch the eye and you marvel at something different. Or places that engage the mind and you enjoy the way things are done differently, ingeniously and innovatively. China is NOT one of those places. It does not catch the eye. Or engage the mind. It grabs your heart. The…
Advantages of Spending a Night with THE Paris Hilton
A night with her will not be breaking any moral code. Most people are wearing underwear – at least that you can tell if you need to. No one has a dog on a short leash. This one does not pretend to be something she is not. You don’t need permission from her mother to…
Nicole Kidman – Possessive Tendencies
I am always intrigued by our tendency to claim something that can never be ours. We often do so under a national, collective grab. Especially when it is a celebrity, sports star, or someone who has excelled in some way. And if that person has demonstrated an especially fine and unique trait, resulting in a…
CIA Family Jewels
So the CIA is revealing its family jewels? Apparently, according to the Washington Post, though not the CIA website. Let’s see what actually happens but the prospect of revelations about CIA alleged, apparent, imagined or real misdeeds seems to have a whole lot of people in slavering anticipation. OK, given the mystique around these organisations…
Sneaking a Kiss in Paris
Having dropped the pack in the (tiny) room (described a little more here) and negotiated my way down a set of winding stairs wide enough for one set of shoulders at a time – and even each of those was pressed against the flowered wallpaper on each side – I stepped out into a classic…
Akaroa
Bruce Elder, a journalist writing for the Sydney Morning Herald, has I think, the best job in the world – reporting on anything obscure, fun, intriguing, captivating or otherwise whatever takes his fancy as he travels around New Zealand. Those following his travels are occasionally invited to suggest places to go or to see, and…
Casey Serin: Worlds Most Hated Blogger
Well, here he is. Apparently. I am not sure how you get a reputation like this from a few dodgy business moves. There are worse business results out there from so called professionals than this young chap has perpetrated. Whatever those moves, he has generated a phalanx of detractors who seem hell bent on getting…
Nessun Dorma
What on earth is the Nessun Dorma? We all associate it with the 1990 World Cup when Pavarotti sang it. But with Paul Potts singing it last week to get our attention I wondered what the story behind it really was. There you go, my Opera roots revealed to be as shallow as those of…
Paul Potts Wins
It has been a meteoric rise for Paul Potts, the Welsh cell phone salesman with the dodgy teeth. Last night he won the talent contest (Britains Got Talent) in which he caught everyone’s imagination (and emotion) when he sang Nessun Dorma. Video clip here. There has been a lot of churlish stuff out there about…
Winter Storm (10)
Previous ChapterIn 2005 David Paton, good friend, mentor, example, and inspiration died after experiencing an aggressive cancer. I flew to New Zealand to attend his funeral. On the flight back I started writing some notes that were intended to capture something of what David meant to me. Taking a deep breath I thought I would…
Paul Potts – Cell Phone Salesman The Next Pavarotti
This week we watched (thanks to YouTube) an amazing performance by Paul Potts in a British talent quest, a performance that had many of us in the office in tears. It is a moving effort. But what I love about this song is his complete overturning of a cynical, even hostile judging panel. OK, they…
Suicide Attempts at Freshwater Beach
Reflections written on winters day, overlooking Freshwater Beach, Sydney. The character’s name is Ahmed. He was deported and found himself imprisoned, then exiled for his faith when he returned home from Australia. He was seeking political asylum. Written Winter 2004. The wind whips around here without any savagery. But it thrubs and beats at everything…
Bulk Carrier Wreck
A few posts ago I commented on the number of bulk carriers anchored off the coast of coal city Newcastle, just a couple of hours north of here. The sheer number makes for an impressive sight. I read in the papers a few weeks ago the number had swelled to 60+ . Tonight, with storms…
The Smartest Dog in the World
One of the truly nice things about all the travel I have done over the years is the range of friendships I have struck up in all sorts of unlikely places. Those friendships have special meaning if they have derived from business – you are not in business to make friends (its all about the…
Desert Bath
I can’t help myself – interrupting the travelogue that has been running for the last few weeks to inject something a little more delightful than my own musings about Europe or the USA. My brother, who spent most of his younger years running around the world doing “boys own” stuff, now has married and has…
Dallas – Nice Truck, Big Gun – The "JD Memorial Shoot"
Dallas is a pretty special place – for some! I have a friend from Los Angeles who decided he needed to get out of the madness of that lifestyle and go someplace where he could focus on his humanitarian work. To do that he figured he would live in the worst place he could imagine…
Philadelphia
There are parts of Philly that are familiar (I have been in and out of here since 1997) and attractive – for all the reasons you would expect them to be. Here the Declaration of Independence was signed, Benjamin Franklin and his cronies hung out and where the nations capital was seated for a period…
Crossing Paths Over Canada
An extremely disconcerting view from an aircraft window is the full frontal view of a 747 heading your way. In the freezing cold air over Canada, on the way from London to Chicago I was watching our contrail shadow creep across the forests and lakes and was somewhat mesmerised by it when I lifted my…
Heathrow
A clear spring day. Sunday morning and in this part of the hemisphere the sun has been up since before 5am. It now glances white light off the American Airlines 777 sitting beside us. It is a marked change to the inbound flight last week when the day was overcast and the feeling of depression…
Things That Alert You to the Passage of Time
Your son rings you and tells you he is getting married. The new jet fighter announced by the government when you joined the military are now in a wind-down program and replacement types have been approved. New employees have birth dates after the date you joined the workforce. The very latest Main Battle Tank (MBT)…
Aldershot
In my early teens I devoured a series of books which followed the fortunes of a new infantry officer in the British Army as he joined his regiment and then found himself engaged in various scrapes in Europe. Boys Own stuff. I cannot remember who he was nor are the story lines at my fingertips.…
I Was an RSM in the Scottish Blagoons
On a train from Liverpool to London and a short while after leaving Lime Street we pull into a suburban station. Into the carriage climbed a wild eyed man in his late forties, mop of hair coiffed back onto his collar, rings in his ears, spare tire around his waist and shirt hanging out. Stumbling…
An Angelic Skirt Lifter
“The Cathedral” in Brussels is understood to be the cathedral in the Grand Place Square. It is covered in intricate statues and carvings, all in fantastic detail. Row upon row of carvings that make up hundreds of characters that adorn the façade. A couple of characters caught my eye. One looking demure, the other coyly…
Waterloo
The poppy flower brightens the trackside vegetation and livens up the borders of the wheat fields where the plough has not scarified them out of the ground. They blur past me as I gaze across gently rolling fields from the train taking me to Waterloo. The freshness of the red helps you understand how it…
Old St Catherine
How old is the church of St Catherine? Very old is my guess. In a town full of old things, its age stands out. Old enough to have the fine detail of its relief carvings weathered to rounded edges and their definition blurred. Angels and saints, soldiers and devils, Mary and child all returning to…
Belgians in Brussels
There is a roughness to the population which is quite striking. It almost verges on the skinhead look. Unkempt and dark. Not that there is any sense of threat. It is just the dress of the youth. Dark and oppressive. Aggressive even. But it seems this is the Soho of Brussels so I should not…
Dog Turds in Brussels
I am not sure I have gotten my head around this town yet. However I have had an opportunity to get out and about this afternoon and walked a few kilometres through an interesting cross section of the city. It is certainly a town of contrasts, all living cheek by jowl. Perhaps starting with a…
Worship Via a Cell Phone
These old cathedrals reek of smoke and wax and are scented with aged timber. Light catches gilt and gold, careens off marble and helps give life to the slate floor, all cracked and tilted but polished smooth from eons of traffic. In their calm stillness you can understand how worshipers seek God, the more so…
Tintin, Waffles and Chocolate
Brussels is a strange town. I sat and ate a very expensive McDonalds burger (the Big Mac Index blows out in this place at about USD8.00, AUD10.00. And as I did so watched grey people on a grey day. It is Sunday, Mothers Day and everyone seems to be out and about. But it is…
Airport Security: A clever Marketing Exercise
Security is always about trade offs. If I want to get to my destination I will put up with the impositions of removing shoes, stripping laptops in and out of their bags, handing over my bottle of water. And tolerate people handling me in a way that would earn them a quick uppercut to the…
Insufferable Changi
The Airport I mean. Nothing to complain about really when the “other Changi” is contemplated – that is, the Japanese POW camp that used to be here. Perhaps been through here fifty times and it never gets any better but I should not complain – a passenger is a statistic to be processed after all.…
400 Tonnes Gets Airborne
The 747 is roughly 200 tonnes of aircraft and 200 tonnes of fuel. Pretty amazing weight when their take off and flight it so elegant and graceful. They say fat people make the best dancers – sure on their feet and confident about handling their bulk. But I would be reluctant to label the 747…
Do Security and Duty Free Have anything In Common?
I am never sure which is worse – the security routine or the duty free rigmarole. Departing Sydney now requires anything that might be a cream or gel or liquid to be packaged in a small plastic bag – if you wish to take it on board that is. Even your toothpaste. And the quantity…
Departing Sydney
I have a real soft spot for the city of Sydney. All the things we say about it in our promotional material is very clichéd but, in most cases very true and in which lies its appeal. Brash. Loud, Flamboyant. International recognition. That unique harbour. All true and part of the formula. On an autumn…
An Ideal Weekend
FuelMy Blog and lastminute.com invited 300 words describing an ideal weekend in a competition, the prize for which is business class travel to “the continent” – but for UK residents only (it did sound too good to be true). No matter, it was an interesting challenge. No doubt competitors will write in anticipation of an…
Taxi Story – Mauritius
My family have been here for years. I came here fifteen years ago after all my brothers and sisters pressured me to come and be a family again. But initially I was reluctant to do so since I could not speak English. I could speak six other languages but not English. I was living in…
Soviet Tanks and Japanese Toyotas
With Australians having been intimately involved in the Vietnam War there was a certain hesitancy, a cringe even, on arriving in a place that had once been a battlefield and many of the folk around us considered enemies. Vietnamese have no such cringe. They are out there running just as hard and as fast as…
Learning English the Hard Way in Ho Chi Minh City
If you stop for very long [in down town Ho Chi Minh City(formerly Saigon)] – say two or three minutes – chances are good that you will be tapped on the shoulder by someone wanting to practise their English. This has now happened on the steps of the Opera House, on the banks of the…
Farmer Suicides
In the early summer months of 1984 we drove 3000km north to the tropics for a holiday. Yup, pretty crazy. On our second day we drove into a wall of dust near Dubbo. It was a wall not unlike this one pictured in 2002 near Griffith. The outstanding difference was that in 1984 there was…
Queensland and Northern Territory Aerial Services
This is going to look like a plug for QANTAS. Consciously not so, although I do admit enjoying boarding a QANTAS flight at a foreign destination after being away from home for a few weeks and hearing the flight attendants and their accents from home and seeing their relaxed way of going about things. And…
Jim and Lizzie
My first travel journal of any substance was an old hardback invoice notebook that I had lifted from one of the local farmers – from a pile of old stationery in one of his sheds. I must have assumed he had less need of it than I. It went with me to Stewart Island in…
A Gunner in Vietnam – Killed By His Own Hand
Funny how random things can spark random thoughts. The picture of Spud standing in the rain in Martin Place sparked thoughts over the last couple of days about a good friend I used to serve with. He was an Airfield Defence Guard. For those of us serving in relative comfort in the Air Force he…
Spud Murphy’s ANZAC Day
I love this photo, taken by Steven Siewert, in the early morning rain which dumped on Sydney yesterday. Wednesday the 25th of April is ANZAC Day and war memorials all over the country, and in New Zealand, have crowds gather around to remember our war dead, and living. For a period through the late seventies…
Toilet Humour – Bangladesh
Bangladesh is the last place in which you want to be afflicted with giardia (this blog refers). Especially when the toilets are usually a hole in the ground. While recovering under some unknown medicine administered by my friend Zia, I kept within a short sprint of the hotel toilets, or at least something civil. I…
KangarooValley Rain
The limestone escarpments drop like a blunt forehead from under a sharply cut fringe of tall timber and dense undergrowth to a gently sloping easement that runs out to the coast a couple of miles away and on which more grass grows than the dairy cows know what to do with. In this humid weather,…
Taxi Story – The Iraqi
The conversation started out in a humourous way, something like this: “Good morning where would you like to go?” “I have no idea.” He laughs. “Actually I need to get to the new Westpac (bank) HQ, do you know where that is?” “Yes. Actually I had a passenger once who asked me to take him…
Sydney View
Sometimes you are just in the right place at the right time with the camera (most times you are not) and in this case I was also in the right seat. We had just taken off from Sydney and then turned right with an angle of bank that allowed a couple of nice shots up…
Taxi Story – the Serb
That tattoo? That! I think I made a mistake with that. No, it is not the Great Wall of China. When I hold it out you can see it is a castle (on his inner forearm). It is an old crumbling castle near where I was born. I was born in Serbia, can’t you tell…
A Spitfire Out My Window: Vale Bobby Gibbes
Last week when it was raining I enjoyed the soft warble of a magpie wallowing in a warm shower. On most days the rainbow lorikeets keep up their colourful chatter outside the window. For a busy Sydney suburb the bird life is quite active. But today the bird in the sky that caught my ear…
Graft in Zimbabwe
Visas tell their own story. I love the Stalinist overtones in the art that remain in the Vietnam visa. Those from the Middle East reflect their fascination with “bling” – they love foils in their documents. But this visa from Zimbabwe has its own little story. As you may know this country, once the bread…
A Whale of a Time
Back in 1984 I was sent for a month to a remote airbase called Learmonth (sounds like a prison sentence and it was – the base is located in the desert (Google Earth 22°13’22.43″S 114° 5’12.81″E) with no nearby townships) for a combined military exercise with the USAF 8th Tactical Fighter Wing out of Kunsan,…
The Little Guy Holds Out – Forever?
This afternoon I was prompted by the question, “why no accounts about travel in Australia?” I had no sensible answer for that, except perhaps that I have not kept any diary or log of any domestic travel. Other than the 6000km return trip into the depths of the tropics in a Suzuki van powered by…
Berne Bear With Humour
I caught the train down to Switzerland today from Bonn. The weather along the Rhine was a little clearer than it was when I came up from Frankfurt but it was still overcast and thoroughly miserable. The Bridge at Remagen drifted past on our left, a very understated monument to a significant and strategic point…
Blogger’s Choice
There is always a degree of scepticism in the blogging world which is always healthy. Well, skepticism in my own blogging world at least. Competitions and promotions are as much about feeding someone else traffic as getting exposure for yourself and more often than not they are promotional tools that take you up the same…
Inspired by Xian Sketches and Sketchers
Along the main street in Xian, OK, along one of the main streets in Xian, just near the Bell Tower roundabout, dozens of artists sit along the kerb and entice passers by to pose for their portraits. Sure you see plenty of these sorts of guys around town, hanging out at train stations and tourist…
Global Bedouin’s Oasis: Marhaba – مرحبا – welcome
Now that was a new trick – creating a link from someone else’s blog. I had better find out how to do that. This blog caught my eye mainly because its author shares similar sentiments – a desire to let the creative juices loose and to be a little less focused on the day job…
747 Action Shot
And while we are mentioning the 747 here is a gratuitous shot that really stands out from the cloud of other excellent shots you can find on Airliners.net. We used to look for “action shots” of aircraft when we were briefing the generals, and the rule of thumb was simply this: “It is not an…
The Brakes Were Glowing Red
I had just endured one of the least pleasant aspects of travelling from Australia to Europe with QANTAS – the stopover in Bangkok. It is a tired airport that offers poor respite. But we were back in the plane and thundering down the runway heading for Frankfurt when suddenly we were thrown forward in our…
Via Dolorosa
It is Good Friday and thoughts turn to things related to Easter, as they should. I am not a Roman Catholic but sometimes I think they have something in some of the traditions they wrap around themselves. A few years ago (1999 actually) I visited Jerusalem and wandered around in some wonder at where I…
Neanderthals are Your Neighbours
They might even be you!! If you think that is going too far think about this. In an upmarket suburb of Sydney, in which the residents no doubt view themselves as having arrived – at least in society, wealth, education and status terms – she sat down to have lunch. After a little while the…
Nailing Your Colours to your Nail House
When you live with 1.2billion neighbours it is pretty hard to be your own person. At least in the way we understand that desire. One of the things I love about the Chinese is that even within their tight and densely populated communities you will see individuals striving to be their own little island for…
Two Ducks on a Wall
Art is such a strange thing. Why does one piece grab you and another not? Who knows? At an art exhibition held by Malkara Special School in Canberra years ago this little piece leapt off the wall at me. Drawn by a young kid, I love the clean lines and the balance of the whole…
Taxi Story – the Palestinian
So you are on a mission from God? You want to go to heaven or hell? (laughs) Sydney? Is that heaven or hell? Yes, I agree, probably heaven. I have been in Melbourne for more than ten years mate. I like it here. Sydney is nice. Went there once in 1999. Hard to drive around.…
Art – United Galleries
I found this art gallery via Sonja, who has published her second book and had it launched. I am just a tiny bit envious since the novel is still locked in the bowels of this PC with no additional words added in the last 6 weeks. Sonja is a fan of one of the artists…
Getting Under Your Skin
My earliest memories of tattoos were of those etched onto large motorcycle riders who would growl into Palmerston every year before they headed into Central Otago for a spring festival or carnival of some sort. I can’t quite recall exactly what the occasion was, though it elusively slides around in the back of my skull…
Cliches about Paris Are True
I arrived from Switzerland in Paris in the late afternoon. No one wanted to speak English. I wandered around the station with no maps and no instructions. I asked at a counter and a man through the wire mesh simply shrugged his shoulders. Very conscious that I looked out of place and lost – not…
Space Age Train in a Paddock
Today I had a slightly weird experience. I am not too sure what to make of it. I departed early in the morning on a diesel powered passenger train out of Bern after a F5 slice of pizza for breakfast (it was better than the F25 can of XXXX beer I found last night –…
A Good Therapy…
In fact, the best. There is no question that getting out and helping someone else is a good way to take your mind off the daily things that are nibbling you to death. The trouble is, our community is so insular, and we are so reluctant to ask if anyone needs help that we end…
Casino Disloyal
As I stroll past the Baccarat room I see his Asian, farmer’s face cupped in his hand. It is a striking face for its length, fifty or so years in the sun, and its whispery whiskers. And its solemn concentration. He looks like a rice farmer from the back blocks of Shenzen, and very well…
Oh Dear, Loose Moose
I cleared Massachusetts this morning, departing Hanscom AFB (I have since discovered that Hanscom is heavily pixellated on Google Earth (lat=42.4662646665, lon=-71.2843313498) – its facilities are classified in some way but the focus on their electronic warfare capabilities is well recorded on various sites) and headed for Worcester via the 495 before getting onto backwoods…
The Handicapped Have no Rights
Two months ago the press down here got hold of a story that had a lot of resonance in the US – that of the so called “Ashley Experiment”. It is a story that has been rattling around in my head ever since, the more so for the negative responses to what has been done…
An Extraordinary Well
Our prowl around Delhi with Nigel Hanklin turned up some surprising revelations. Some of which helped remind us that the modern day has no exclusive claim on art, inventiveness, science or creativity. Sure, we know all that, but sometimes it requires something to be in our face to understand it. We paused for a stop…
Art or Science? Me or You?
With more than 100 blogs under my belt what has this medium turned into? How much of it is art? How much should be intuitive and off the sleeve? And how much thematic, scripted, planned, scientific? I have to confess that the exercise of writing this blog has evolved through a number of phases reflective…
Death Before Dishonour, Nothing Before Coffee
So inscribed in Latin on your casket by your brother Tom, and a touch that everyone enjoyed. Everyone – maybe 400 or so. I did a quick headcount in the service. Sorry. But I know you would understand. We all loved the fact that we were all here for you today. What a great testimony…
Lentil Burger Eating Surfers
If the number of ships lurking off the Newcastle harbour is one sign of our times (previous post refers) then what I experienced at this little slapstick eatery in Newcastle is another. Newcastle, and specifically Nobby’s Head is famous for it surfers. Last week I stopped for lunch here. It is a block from the…
Great Pheasant – or “The China-Australia Health Index”
I prefer Great Pheasant. It is a little more poetic than the latter. But they are connected. I was reading somewhere in the last few weeks that the backlog of coal ships anchored off Newcastle is currently at record highs. Newcastle is the loading port for Hunter Valley Coal which is being shipped at enormous…
Friends and Planes Do Not Mix
JD perished in the crash of his friend’s aircraft only two weeks ago. At the point when we expected JD’s details to be published in the papers Garuda Flight GA200, a 737-400 crashes in Indonesia. One of the survivors is Mick Hatton, close colleague and friend with whom I served while in the Air Force.…
A Century, One Ton, 100
In this country “a ton” usually refers to the 100 runs a cricketer might amass in a solid innings of play. Otherwise known as a century. I don’t think I ever made “a ton” in any game other than the backyard ones in which there was lots of cheating, reduced wickets, and a players ability…
Tractor Accident (9)
Previous Chapter In 2005 David Paton, good friend, mentor, example, and inspiration died after experiencing an aggressive cancer. I flew to New Zealand to attend his funeral. On the flight back I started writing some notes that were intended to capture something of what David meant to me. Taking a deep breath I thought I…
Vehicles (8)
Previous Chapter In 2005 David Paton, good friend, mentor, example, and inspiration died after experiencing an aggressive cancer. I flew to New Zealand to attend his funeral. On the flight back I started writing some notes that were intended to capture something of what David meant to me. Taking a deep breath I thought I…
A Letter to a Friend
Dear JD,It’s been more than a week now. I drove home last Friday afternoon up the Waringah Expressway. I was enjoying the sunshine and the clear blue Sydney sky – and the fact that the air conditioning was keeping the humidity at bay. The traffic was light which was surprising since these 6 or so…
Taking Ourselves Seriously
Some more thoughts about my friend Ewin. It is actually proving an interesting exercise to try and quantify and describe exactly what it is about the friendship that is so valuable, and what the chemistry might really be. Of course you can be too analytical and forensic on something that is abstract but no less…
Singapore -Same But Different
There are always little hints about a place that tell you there are more differences between cultures than necessarily meet the eye. I am constantly intrigued by these, especially where we try and put our fingers on the subtleties of difference between ourselves and New Zealanders, Americans, Brits and Canadians. The obvious comparisons I guess.…
Respite in the Forbidden Palace
September 12, 2006. Beijing morning with the early sun on my back and cool freshness of the morning breeze on my face. On my left the still moat of the Forbidden Palace and on my right the bustle of the early morning traffic. Trolley buses pour past, cyclists and of course the normal flood of…
Ewin – An Introduction
OK. Enough is enough. Two tales on my blog of dead friends. Writing up what they meant to you after they are gone is all well and good but there is a perspective on those notes which is self absorbing. So I am going to try and put my heart on my sleeve a bit…
Countries Visited
The blog started as a travel log and remains so in intent – so I have allowed myself to be distracted by this gimic. Shame it does not quite fit. NZ and the Pacific have slid off the map. Create your own visited countries map
Vale JD
John called today to tell me that JD was killed in a plane accident on Friday evening. At about the time I was to head off to Youth Group. How blithely we continue on while something erupts unseen and unheard over the horizon, but which will impact us in due course. How blithely we continue…
Nuclear Subs in New London
Last night was spent in a musty naval quarter that was bit of a surprise. For its filthy state that is. The mould and damp caught in the orange carpet still pushed through the disinfectant that had been used very lightly in the bathroom. Not having much luck with military accommodation over the last couple…
Some Memories are Best Left Alone
My grandfather’s place on the outskirts of Christchurch was an exotic locale in the mind of an eight year old boy. The house was always immaculate. The yard was pristine, the lawn mown smoother than a bowling green. The goldfish under the wire in a pond wrapped around a fountain was about the most outlandish…
Jazz – Emanuel Schmidt
Warmdaddys in Philadelphia is one hot place to get a good old fashioned dose of jazz. Last time I was there I was fortunate to land on an evening when members of the audience were invited to sing whatever they wanted and the backing band would cover them – after a quick conference on stage…
Self Diagnosis in Bangladesh
I arrived in Chittagong late in the afternoon in a BAC-111, an aircraft even our air force has retired. The aircraft touched down and immediately the passengers felt the main undercarriage touch the asphalt they were on their feet, opening lockers and surging to the front of the plane. The nose wheel had yet to…
Chinese Hospitality in New London
A long day today which brought with it a range of experiences. Someone told me before I first came to the US that I would see and hear things that I could never imagine ever existed. He was referring to things seen in stores and I guess he was right after spending a few hours…
Jesus Loves Osama
Posters outside various churches in Sydney and Melbourne this last week have excited all sorts of commentary about the accuracy or otherwise of the statement “Jesus Loves Osama”. It is unquestionably a provocative and even emotional statement, prodding our community fears about terrorism and needling our other insecurities. Is it a true statement? Much of…
Zuigia Farewell Concert
Over the last couple of years we have been blessed by three unlikely guys from the US (Hawaii, Texas and the “Four Corners”) who make up the band “Zuigia”. They have had a remarkable music ministry to high school students and church youth. Australia has one of the highest teen male suicide rates in the…
Sinking of Mikhail Lermontov
In Picton, (Google Earth 41.298901N, 174.0056E) a sleepy little town of about 3,500 people, is this lifeboat, a lonely reminder of a bizarre sinking of a Russian cruise liner a few years ago. 1986 actually. Murky but not bad weather, and light seas. Travelling in places it should not. And through well chartered waters –…
Pork (7)
Previous Chapter In 2005 David Paton, good friend, mentor, example, and inspiration died after experiencing an aggressive cancer. I flew to New Zealand to attend his funeral. On the flight back I started writing some notes that were intended to capture something of what David meant to me. Taking a deep breath I thought I…
Taxi Story – The Iranian
I came here ten years ago as a refugee. I am very lonely since I have no family here. But I have a good life in Sydney. When I was in Tehran I earned one dollar a day One dollar!! But it bought me everything I need although my life was very simple. But I…
Dubai – Feet Vote it Better than Spain
If you copy and paste these coordinates (25° 5’22.98″N 55° 9’18.47″E) into Google Earth you will be slowly flown to a remarkable bit of coastline that, as the view sharpens up, reveals odd flowering appendages to the coast (hint: if you need to speed Google Earth up head to the general area of the Middle…
Recycle!!
During our trip with Nigel around New Delhi we were treated to some extraordinary sights, with Nigel focusing on cultural elements of the city that a tourist probably would not plan into their day. But which are an integral part of the fabric of India and for which a visitor is all the poorer for…
Terrorist Gas Bottle BBQ Builders
26 January is Australia Day. Last week the Australian Meat and Livestock Corporation ran this advertisement, cast in the style of political advertisements, which has struck a chord with most Australians. Apparently it is achieving a successful “viral” advertising penetration. I am more than happy to help it on its way. You won’t like it…
Chai Chai, Tea Tea, or Chai Tea? Or Just Chai?
The local Gloria Jeans coffee shop serves up a very nice “Chai Tea”. It has not been heated over a cow dung fire, filtered to remove twigs and other impurities, nor made with a tin of condensed milk and a secret recipe of herbs and spices which are best not ask about. It all comes…
Venison (6)
Previous Chapter In 2005 David Paton, good friend, mentor, example, and inspiration died after experiencing an aggressive cancer. I flew to New Zealand to attend his funeral. On the flight back I started writing some notes that were intended to capture something of what David meant to me. Taking a deep breath I thought I…
Taxi Story (mine) – Singapore
Where you go?Furama Hotel.Which hotel?Furama.No Furama.Actually there are a few of them.Not in Singapore.F-U-R-A-M-AOh, you mean Furama!Yes please.Which one?Chinatown.Singapore is Chinatown(thinking “don’t be cute with me buster…)Downtown Chinatown.Downtown or Chinatown?The Furama in Chinatown.You know address?Eu Tong Sen Street(silence)Eu (oh) Tong Sen…ChinatownYou show me…OK (you bastard)(long silent drive from airport, with attempt to get him talking…
Storm Over Singapore
The humidity seeps into and out of everything. From out of the lowering sky. Out of the damp ground and dark foliage. The light gray sky of the morning has given over to an angry gray which is hanging like a curtain and being drawn across the jungle horizon. The sun has long vanished although…
Chinese Translation of English Movie Titles
So while we are thinking about Chinese movies (previous post refers) you might enjoy the following “top 15” Chinese Translations of English movie titles. 15. “Pretty Woman” — “I Will Marry a Prostitute to Save Money”14. “Face/Off” — “Who Is Face Belonging To? I Kill You Again, Harder!”13. “Leaving Las Vegas” — “I’m Drunk And…
The Skinny Hamster and the Otter
A colleague in Singapore is known as “Mr Otter” – reflecting his penchant for fish. Especially pepper crab. And turning into a shopping mall this evening we were confronted by a sign that encouraged us to visit the health club on the third floor. A treadmill of a day comment morphed into the image of…
The Stones Bar
I have been coming to Singapore for more than twenty years now and there is something that remains elusive about the place that defies accurate description. Sure there are the usual comparisons everyone wants to make about this city state – how controlled it is, how constrained, how contrived. But I have to confess that…
Heart Attack on the New Jersey Turnpike
I am sitting on the edge of an oval overlooking the Hudson. The buildings of West Point are behind me, while down the road and appropriately out of sight and sound is the tawdry little roadside hotel I signed into earlier this afternoon. There was precious little accommodation around the area given an Army football…
Whale on Toast
When building a company there are more nights than I care to remember when I lie awake wondering how this or that will resolve itself. Or be resolved. I learned early on that attempting to deal with issues as I perceived them in the dark hours was never a clever thing to do – some…
Taxi Story – The Chinese Indonesian
“I have a wife and son. I am very proud of my son. He has worked very hard at university and in this second year of his study he has three distinctions. He is doing better than me in this crazy taxi adventure. I was born in Indonesia but I am part of the Chinese…
On That Farm They Had a Cow (5)
Previous Chapter In 2005 David Paton, good friend, mentor, example, and inspiration died after experiencing an aggressive cancer. I flew to New Zealand to attend his funeral. On the flight back I started writing some notes that were intended to capture something of what David meant to me. Taking a deep breath I thought I…
A Picture Paints a Thousand Words
This is my all time favourite shot of an F-111 – even though it cannot actually be seen. In fact it was taken by the F-111. We had cleared a small country airport with air traffic control and the local flying club. Nothing in the air in the local circuit in order for us to…
Same but Different
Ecoli left a comment at Backyard Beasts. He referred to the thong as an effective weapon in the control of and, if necessary, the destruction of potentially lethal spiders. For the sake of clarity for our US readership it is worth noting that “thong” in this part of the world means a piece of footwear.…
Coronation Park
Poking around in Hanklyn Janklyn last night had me dragging out photos rather than diaries this evening. Coronation Park. King George declared this to be the site of the new capital of India. In 1911 if my memory serves me correctly. He did so to a large crowd of Indian rajahs and other important rulers…
Hanklyn Janklyn
Sometimes life just throws up little gems that get more lustrous as time goes on. In this case a gem called Nigel Hankin. Far too much of him to tell in a single blog (I know, some of them are far too long). But here is a taste and I will add some other pieces…
Gratuitous Aardvark
A gratuitous shot of a Royal Australian Air Force F-111 cleaning up. Actually, in RAAF service this aircraft was affectionately known as “The Pig”. I don’t think anyone ever called it the Aardvark. In fact even that nomenclature only happened long after it was a front line success.
Drug Arm – Round 1 2007
Our first “patrol” for 2007 this evening. At the end of a week in which our press announced the largest discovery ever of ecstasy chemicals – worth more than $500million. Apropos nothing except we are out there aiming to do something to ensure people on the other end of that drug pipeline have the means…
Ship Breaking – Using Hammer and Chisel
As you approach the beach, the first clues that you are in a unique part of the world, more so than usual, are the large numbers of small roadside stalls selling second hand (and new) ship’s stores. Everything from brass fittings to boxes of toothpaste. The second clue, uncertain at first but rising to a…
Backyard Beasts
No, not the teenagers and young adults who come over with my son and drink my beer and raid my fridge – and worse! But some of the animals we live with in Sydney. And specifically those that we have in our backyards here. Some are ornery and keep you on your toes. Others can…
The Farm (4)
Previous Chapter In 2005 David Paton, good friend, mentor, example, and inspiration died after experiencing an aggressive cancer. I flew to New Zealand to attend his funeral. On the flight back I started writing some notes that were intended to capture something of what David meant to me. Taking a deep breath I thought I…
RAAF F-111 Belly Landing
Nothing that can be said here really – check out a recent F-111 landing sans wheels – just an arrestor hook. A handy piece of gear hung over from its orginal Navy design!!
Panickers Travel – New Delhi
My diaries are full of notes on India and it is a bit hard to know where to start, especially if extracts are going to make any sense. But India is a bit like that – a montage of experiences, assaults on the senses, moments that make you cringe, followed by moments of pure exhilaration…
Bestest Blog
I am not sure how kosher or otherwise it is to be placing site traffic analysis up on the blog but I thought some of you might be interested in the dramatic difference a very small investment in Bobby’s site has made. Specifically it started with the Premium Blog promotion that was responsible for this…
Racial Tension in Maryland – A First Hand Experience
I cleared the D.C. area and crossed the Bay on my way to Wilmington and took the first ramp off the freeway that I could find. It took me into fields of autumn crops, narrow lane ways, red painted barns and very little traffic. I was thankful for that today since it takes a day…
Sartorial Splendour (3)
Previous ChapterIn 2005 David Paton, good friend, mentor, example, and inspiration died after experiencing an aggressive cancer. I flew to New Zealand to attend his funeral. On the flight back I started writing some notes that were intended to capture something of what David meant to me. Taking a deep breath I thought I would…
Zak – starting the race at 23 weeks
Yesterdays papers covered a story of Zak. Bit of a feel good story especially given the photo that was posted with it. But it caught my eye and it seemed like a nice note with which to start the year. Zak, in the photo, has just celebrated his first birthday. Ordinarily no big deal, except…
Taxi Story – The Kurd
Taxi drivers in this city are almost always foreign nationals – if not by citizenship then at least by birth. That makes for some interesting stories and I usually take the opportunity when riding with them to find out a bit about their backgrounds and their families. One stands out and I am thinking about…
Transformation
Previous ChapterIn 2005 David Paton, good friend, mentor, example, and inspiration died after experiencing an aggressive cancer. I flew to New Zealand to attend his funeral. On the flight back I started writing some notes that were intended to capture something of what David meant to me. Taking a deep breath I thought I would…
Aardvark (Pig) – F111
OK, I am a tragic F-111 fan. Just found this video on YouTube. It is a montage of Royal Australian Air Force F-111 video clips which contains a couple of people I know. I may be mistaken but at the beginning of the clip the crew member doing the preflight walk around looks remarkably like…
The House that Jack Built
In 2005 David Paton, good friend, mentor, example, and inspiration died after experiencing an aggressive cancer. I flew to New Zealand to attend his funeral. On the flight back I started writing some notes that were intended to capture something of what David meant to me. Taking a deep breath I thought I would share…
Your Home is My Home – Sudanese in Tamworth
Just before Christmas our news was full of the incomprehensible – the mayor of a country town (Tamworth (Google Earth31° 5’58.45″S 150°55’22.31″E)) here in Australia declared a group of Sudanese families unwanted in his town. Some rolled their eyes and simply put it down to our redneck community. Others, including many in Tamworth, were outraged.…
Love is Born
Sharing something here from my Christmas Day. Love is bornWith a dark and troubled faceWhen hope is deadAnd in the most unlikely placeLove is born:Love is always born. From “When I Talk to You A Cartoonist Talks to God“By Leunig. A brilliant cartoonist, satirist, and social commentator. His website is worth a visit.
Bethlehem
Our newspapers are reporting a downturn in tourists visiting Bethlehem at this time of the year. Just as they reported last year. I visited Bethlehem a few years ago when tensions were escalating and getting across the border into Palestine was problematic. The checkpoint was a flux of tension and a crossroads of hate. Those…
Bonjour Vietnam
A remarkably evocative clip. Sung by Quynh Anh, an expat Vietnamese living in Europe. Having been to Vietnam I found it an evocative piece of video and music. All the more so for their disastrous past and their passion for the present. The English words contain none of the magic of the lyric French, or…
S&M
Cafe in Lane Cove, on Longueville Road. Two days before Christmas and the sweat sticks to my skin The day is overcast and threatens, then delivers, even more humidity as the sky lets loose a light shower, closes up, then releases another once the pavement has dried off. The heat is exacerbated by a furious…
Life is a Beach
Well, so “they” say. At this time of the year we are inclined to believe that is the case. We usually take what we have at our doorstep for granted. Until someone visits and we take them to the beach. And wonder why we don’t do it more often. Nephew Monty, out from England with…
Bloody Feather Quilts
Well, the Joseph Sherfy story is starting to piece itself together. The material is a little thin at this point but the Library of Congress has been helpful, so too some resources at Carlisle Army War College and also a very hospitable group of on-line enthusiasts at militaryhistoryonline.com This is by no means definitive or…
Jocelyn
Family is having a handicapped kid.Family is having a handicapped kid, who some close to you want locked up.Family is having a handicapped kid who prompts parishioners to shift to different pews.Family is having a handicapped kid which means siblings friends won’t stay over.Family is having a handicapped kid who community services don’t want to…
The Peach Orchard – Will the Real Joseph Sherfy Please Stand Up?
The Peach Orchard at Gettysburg is understood by military historians to be significant in this particular battle for the Confederate breaking of the Union line. Under General Sickles the Union line had been drawn from the Devils Den, anchored at the Peach Orchard and then drawn up Emmitsburg Road. A map always helps, so here…
White Trash
The pair of us landed in San Francisco and had four hours to spend before connecting to our flight across the Pacific and home. We had been on the road for a couple of weeks and were in no mood to hear from a clerk that, having checked in, we were not to leave the…
USS Arizona Rebuilding
USS Arizona still leaks fuel oil in a steady blobby rain, called by some the Black Tears of the Arizona. You can watch it leaching to the surface in black blobs of ink, and in the light chop of a protected harbour the peacock tail colours of petroleum on water glint the sun hard back…
Train Nazi Postscript
20 September 2006. We finally dropped into Lanzhou at about 7.15 am. I managed to get back into the carriage via the platform as recounted earlier (Train Nazi). We eventually were pressed out through the exit with a throng of fellow travellers into the cool morning air. We were immediately struck by how different this…
St Matthews
In 1981 I spent six months on a training course in Toowoomba. Semi rural Queensland. It was a bachelor’s life. And thoroughly pleasant for that. I sketched this old stone church modestly posing behind a large pinus radiata, but parading with something more exotic in its other garden. These sorts of buildings lend themselves to…
1949 Robinson Harvester
Other creative pursuits in the past have included pen and ink and pen and pencil sketching. Far too little of it though since my school days. In one summer holidays from school I worked on a farm in northern Victoria. It was 45 degrees and oven hot. Most days. I sketched this one afternoon when…
Remembering Shorty and Hobbs
Like the rest of the country I heard that we had lost two people in a helicopter accident off Fiji yesterday. But when I saw the papers this morning and the front page carried this photo I was jolted somewhat. Here was a face to the name. And somehow it still seemed that part of…
Pickled Eel for Emperor
September 11 2006 Beijing: We met Liz and Al and took bicycles down to the Forbidden City, but via Beihai Park. I love the tickets they issue to these places – very sharp looking but only a few cents to buy. A collection of these tell your story by themselves. At Beihai Park we took…
Long Tan and Short Memories
Yesterday the Australian Prime Minister of Australia laid a wreath at the site of the Long Tan battlefield in southern Vietnam. It is rightly famous for the Australian infantry who beat off more than 2000 enemy. There are criticisms by Australian veterans about how this battle was forgotten, nay even rebuffed by those in government…
High Water Mark of the Confederacy
Unless distant family was involved in the US Civil War there is almost nothing to connect an Australian with a war that threatened to rip a nation apart, eventually welded it, and which still resonates more than 140 years later as something sentimental and patriotic. And divisive -flint eyed southerners will tell you they are…
Cu Chi
I have been asked about the reference to Cu Chi in the photo. Cu Chi (“coo chee”) is famous as the site for the tunnels built by the Vietnamese resistance, or Viet Cong, about 45 kilometers from Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon). Being this close to Saigon they were used to focus attacks into the…
Off to School in Shamoo
Dear Readers at Shelford (and others of course), “Off to School in Shamoo”? Now that sounds like something out of Dr Seuss. In fact, something just as wonderful and weird as Dr Seuss. But not as wobbly and wavey. In fact, quite the opposite – something very real and concrete and solid in my experience…
Love Lost in District 4
I walked out of the Ho Chi Minh CBD, such as it is and into District 4. I discovered later that locals recommended District 4 should not be on any walking tour for visitors, it being too dangerous and violent. Something of a slum, and I suspect that is the real reason why locals don’t…
Puppies and Green Snakes (IV)
First day wandering out into the streets, with no map, to see what I can see. Now I am not sure where I am but the general direction I took from the Saigon River was towards the local markets. Past cages of dogs, puppies and green snakes, all stupefied by the heat save for one…
Brotherly Love in the Forbidden City
The Forbidden City is one of those names you find in China that has real, evocative, poetic power in just the name itself. Forbidden to whom? And for what reason? And a whole city?! – are you for real? If your disposition is so inclined, it is also a name that makes you want to…
Mr Zhang
Just south of where the terracotta warriors stand in the ground at silent attention to, and in silent, stern protection of their onerous, mean spirited master (Emperor Qin was a $&^%# by all accounts) lives another man, also in the ground. Mr Zhang. Not so silent and still however. And of a much more gentle…
Drugs on the Beaches
Sydney press of late has drawn our attention to the rising problem of drug use in our city (an example here), in particular calling attention to methamphetamines, or ice, which are becoming increasingly pervasive. Rightly so – the press attention that is. On the Northern Beaches of Sydney there is a volunteer based group which…
Golgotha Revisited
The Easter story is an annual event that marks our secular calendar but which has little impact outside the Christian church. But even within that demographic there are plenty it does not touch. It is an historic event that remarkably stands out for the non Biblical record which captured the teachings, death and resurrection of…
Elephant Woman (III)
Ho Chi Minh City Zoo (such as it is) Beware the Elephant Handlers. The two grandmother pseudo handlers that is, clucking and whistling from the crowd at the elephants. It is clear the elephants know this language for they amble over to the edge of the pit and extend their trunks towards them in swaying,…
Yemen – Life in Perspective
In April 2005 I visited Yemen. It is an amazing place caught in a Soviet era time-warp from which it is slowly extracting itself. As with any place you visit, the impact most acutely felt is that made by other people, especially children. Two in particular really stand out. Here they are, the two girls…
Land of the Morning Calm
August 2002The rain falls softly in the Land of the Morning Calm. Or so it would seem from the hotel window. So much so that the initial impression is of lazy sleet of snow drifting to the ground. Even one of our local Korean colleagues thought the same. Never mind the fact that we know…
My Chinese Train "Nazi"
Our lives are the sum of many parts, a significant number of which are other people. Some of those parts can be a bit rusty. Or completely non functional. Or may even be a spanner in the works altogether. In China I met one part that went out of its way to get in the…
Alexander Duff
19 December 2005This morning I sat and ate bacon and scrambled eggs, with tomatoes, and a coffee to wash it down. And as I ate I thought “Here is something so simple and pleasureable that he will never know.” Such is the focus of ones thoughts. How mean and shabby are our daily worries and…
Riyadh Foyer
The Saudi is a very nocturnal beast, sleeping late and only really getting going in the evening. Helped along by the restaurants being open until 11pm and the coffee shop even later the Saudi men, usually in the national dress, drift into the foyer, settle in to smokes and coffee and get down to business.…
Men Only – Unfortunately
Notes from Riyadh After making my third trip to the Middle East I finally attempt to put pen to paper. Unlike most trips when I manage to get a few notes jotted about what I have seen those made to the East have been without my muse. Its hard to know why exactly. Perhaps the…
Butterflies in Riyadh Airport
Leaving Riyadh A young soldier too skinny to be credible lounges on the side of an aircraft container loader. His olive green helmet rounds out his head, a dark browned one and incongruous in this place. Or perhaps not where the gritty jobs go to those not in the family. The sound of a fountain…
Cycle Culture ( II )
(Follows from “Heading for Ho Chi Minh City” ( I ) A tone which sets impressions straight away is the tide of motorcycles, although we would call them scooters and the branding type might insist on Vespa (though we saw Yamaha doing extremely well). We were sucked out of the airport at peak hour —…
Ho Chi Minh City ( I )
October 2004 We bumped out of Singapore through muscled clouds that flashed and dropped rain on the Straits, finally clearing across their boiling tops into bright sunshine and a slight feeling of relief. As we bore north the hazy coastline of Malaysia kept us company on the left until geography and navigation separated us and…
Dog Girl of Bangkok
I discovered Lumpini Park ten years ago. Countless thousands of Thais and others found it before me but it was a discovery nonetheless. It is a jade green oasis in the middle of a gritty city which offers some respite from the madness of the streets. Back in Lumpini, with my throat catching on the…
The (Saudi) Punjabi Cricket Club
The heat hammers off the asphalt and at 45 degrees everything shimmers to attention. Or sags completely. The last puddles, quite deep enough to sodden socks in shoes last night are now mostly gone. Indeed, footprints left in a mud patch last evening are now fossilised. None of this is allowed to get in the…
An Arab Lunch
The sand and dust create a haze around the sun but not sufficient to ease the 46 degree heat or the glare that radiates off buildings, and walls, even those whitewashed ones on either side of the lane down which we bounce. Acacias bend in the oven wind and move their shade from one side…
Riding the Dog
This morning I am doing the American thing – sitting in a hokey little New Jersey Greyhound terminal waiting to catch a bus to New York. But there is a home feel to this adventure, for Frente is being playing on the radio. A small touch of home although if it wasn’t such a unique…
All the Tea in China
Tiananmen Sqaure is a terrific melting pot. All sorts of people congregate there at all hours. Many are there simply to soak up the site, to say they have “been there” before moving on to other icons around the city. The majority of visitors are Chinese who seem to wear an air of surprise –…
Drinking the Pickled Eel
In the backblocks of Beijing, up a filthy lane heaped high with refuse and rubble (the best places always are) is one of thousands of restaurants which feed the hordes. We stumbled into one, late in the evening, that advertised an English menu. The owners were true to their word but they could not read…