Kokoda D -1

September 19, 2010

kokoda-d-1.jpgI 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 I should throw the tent away and sleep standing up! Pete probably wouldn’t appreciate that – he is supposed to be sharing the tent! Heck have I forgotten anything? We can’t just nick down to the corner store if we have. It’s been a while since I have trekked in a remote place so I am scratching my head trying to remember all the tricks. I can put up with most nonsense as long as I have dry feet, so I am erring on the side of plenty of socks, all individually sealed against the wet. Eek, how on earth am I supposed to assess my state of hydration if the vitamin B supplement we are taking turns my urine the vibrant colour of an orange Stanley screwdiver handle (we all have different points of reference).

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Kokoda D -2

September 19, 2010

kokoda290.jpgTime 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 increasingly conscious of the men in whose steps we will tread. Are we up for it? Am I? There is only one way to find out.

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Sydney Fringe – The Allure of Disgrace

September 19, 2010

fringe290.jpgDiary 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 Jacket and Scarf nicely tells me the Blue Room i s now open and I am welcome to move out of this echoing chamber and to take a seat. A personal invitation no less. Best I do, but the thin crowd is unlikely to crush me to the door. I take a seat near the sound box. I don’t think I have been in a theatre this small since I sat in the Ipswich Little Theatre – interestingly enough also from the art deco period and designed by Burley Griffin, the chap who designed the layout of Canberra. It was once a crematorium – the Little Theatre that is, not Canberra. Though that is debatable I guess. But on that occasion I knew what I was getting into. Here, well who knows what is about to unfold. The sound guy is also the lighting guy and he has just been stage whispered to start when the music stops. It is an intimate place after all. It’s cute music. Sort of Frente like. Read more

1969 – an Age of Innocence?

September 12, 2010

mumanddad290.jpgFunny 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 or 66 perhaps, not 1969.  By 1969 I am sure he would have wondered at the floppy eared, sparse hair, Three Mile Island rabbit rendition of him. I think more highly of him than that! Read more

A Retro Trip

September 5, 2010

sketch290.jpgThe 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 as I have pored over more than 1000 pieces of his personal correspondence with more than 1000 still to be read. Read more