So much has happened

It’s been a while since I wrote. Sadly, since writing about people dying from or suffering from cancer, another friend here in Melbourne (a NZer) found out she had cancer and died within six months! It was a shock to everyone. I really felt her loss. We hadn’t seen much of each other because of Covid lockdowns but we chatted and text by phone. We used to go and see plays together. I will miss her sense of humour, her sarcasm, her vibrancy, and especially her company on attending plays (if I bother now). I’d known her since we were teens (I was first a friend of her sister’s). She had only just turned 59.

Then the girls’ step-cousin who I mentioned, died in December, age 44. She clung on ’til after Christmas. She leaves a husband and two young children. So tragic. I had two funerals to attend via zoom (both in NZ).

I’ve been on a few trips since I last wrote, once we were released from lockdown and had no community cases of Covid. The state borders are closed then open on a regular basis so it’s risky to travel interstate, but within Victoria is ok. I have had to upload a lot of photos and it seems to take forever to just view them and put them in appropriate folders, let alone edit (if any – I’m becoming lazier). So I have a lot to catch up on and will update soon. There are not enough hours in the day.

Since the start of the year I made a resolution, I suppose you could call it, to finally get back into sketching. I used to do the odd watercolour too, but over the years lost all confidence in my ability to do anything. A few episodes of watching Bob Ross finally gave me the impetus, so I’m trying to do a painting once a week (either watercolour or acrylics), as well as regularly sketch.

I’ve also, after several years, decided to get back into bellydancing, taking a virtual class. It’s been a while but finding the time, as well as doing a futurelearn course and the artwork (and keeping up with streaming TV programmes!) can be tricky. Work gets in the way! As for work, meh. Unfortunately my immediate manager is of the “micro” variety. I much prefer managers who leave you to it, knowing you’ll do the work, rather than checking in every bloody day. Not here to rant, so that’s all for now.

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Sadness

Well, the disappointment of not being able to travel after over a year of planning has hit hard and as a whole we’re quite depressed. We’ve managed to cancel half of the accommodation, with some yet to sort. I’ve cancelled the cattery. Next up is hopefully a credit with the airline. Then we’ve got to re-organise the whole thing which is a pain in the proverbial. [PS. I’ve just cancelled the flights with a full refund.]

I’ve lost all motivation while working from home. I’ve become lazy. I’ve lost interest in family history for now, not knowing what to do next. The UK trip was based on family history, visiting ancestral villages, etc. We were all so excited.

So, stuck at home, with not even the ability to travel within Australia thanks to a spike in Covid19 cases. While the rest of Australia eases back on restrictions and can travel interstate, in Victoria some suburbs have gone back into lockdown, all thanks to slack, ignorant, or selfish bastards. Thankfully I’m not in one of those suburbs, but may as well be. I only go out to go to the supermarket or visit my daughter. There is no dancing, there are no bird trips, no meetup events. This year is a complete write-off. Added to that, our salaries at work will be cut by 10% because of the loss of income due to no Chinese visitors. How ironic. I’m to stay working at home until the end of the month, then supposedly staggered days, partly at work and partly at home.

So, I’ve just been watching Netflix, Stan, SBS and playing Sims 2 and 4. I get out walking as much as possible but it’s not enough. I’ve put on weight. It’s all rather depressing.

Added to the depression is the number of people I know suffering from, or having died from cancer. A former colleague died in her 40s, and a good friend of mine died in February. I was so shocked to find out and still can’t believe it – that I’ll never see her face again when visiting the town. She was so happy to see me when I gave her a surprise visit two years ago. I had no idea she was ill. It was so sudden.  Another former colleague’s mother has cancer. And the step-sister of the girls’ cousin has brain cancer and has just lost her hearing. They say she won’t last long. She’s only in her early 40s with two young children. So cruel. So heartwrenching. I always liked her – so vibrant and friendly, which makes it all the more horrible. It seems to be true, that only the good die young.

So I should be grateful: that I have my health (despite aches and pains); am alive to see the sun, to appreciate birds singing outside; to have a job. So many – thousands, millions, have lost their lives and livelihoods.

One thing that did make me laugh this morning. My daughter shared a message that the husband of one of her cousins had put on Facebook. He was entering a competition to win a gaming console, claiming that he’d lost his job through “Covert19”. (I know some use that word instead of covid because they think it’s a conspiracy but this guy is not even that “intelligent”.) He didn’t lose his job as a result of Covid19 – he was caught stealing from his workplace – he’s a liar and a thief, pleading innocence even though he was caught on camera. An idiot. He’s the laughing stock of the family and lost any respect he might have had (negligible).

I’ve run out of British comedies to make me laugh. I really enjoyed several seasons of Still Game on Netflix. It took me a couple of episodes to get into it but I loved the characters. Any suggestions for humour appreciated. The second season of AfterLife was not funny at all.

I’d better go. Enough venting.

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Planning

This week I finish my part-time job then six days later I start my new full-time job, which is exciting. I’m looking forward to new challenges, new people and a healthier income. I will have to watch out that I don’t put on weight though. For my current job I am on my feet a lot, use public transport, and walk everywhere. The new job, necessarily, involves using the car every day and there will be a lot of sitting during the day. I need to ensure I get enough exercise.

In this transitory period between one job and another (I’ve already, mentally, moved on), I am continuing planning my UK road trip with daughters and bro. Really looking forward to it. The itinerary is mapped out and dates decided on. We’ve already booked flights and have booked accommodation at numerous places on our trip through England and Scotland. We’ve only got a few more places to book. It’s been exciting looking at all the options and choosing the nicest (but comparatively cheap) accommodation that will accommodate all of us, preferably with separate beds. Bro needs a room to himself so he can snore to his heart’s content (and hopefully we won’t hear him). Most places we’ve looked at for four adults only offer a double and two singles, or two doubles (their assumption being that at least two of the four adults are a couple). Not good for us at all, even with a sofa bed. So, we’re concentrating on apartments and cottages on AirBnb. We have to move fast even eight months in advance as they’re booking out quickly.

London doesn’t really feature except as a place to fly into and out of. We’ve all been to London before and are more interested in rural and regional UK (something the girls have not experienced). We’ll start in Winchester and drive to the west then north to Edinburgh, doing a loop back south through York and ending in Cambridge to see the Battle of Britain air show, which my bro was very keen on (as a kid he made WW2 aircraft models and read Biggles). I didn’t mind either as I had been to the Royal Air Force Museum with my father years ago and really enjoyed it.

So, definitely something to look forward to, all going well!

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Racism

“This is not New Zealand” is the sentiment expressed everywhere on the internet after the horrific shooting of muslims in Christchurch. What do they mean exactly? True, such an abhorrent act has never been seen in New Zealand before, but the motivation should not come as a surprise considering the anti-muslim rhetoric spewing forth from america since 9/11.  Every muslim is regarded as a terrorist. I’ve heard anti-muslim remarks from New Zealanders. New Zealanders are not immune to racism. Even though the perpetrator was Australian (and I’m sure there have been many anti-Australian comments made as a result, or should I say even more), the views the man expressed are shared with many within New Zealand. Racists are everywhere, including among Maori.

My daughter has olive skin. She was working in a shoe shop in Palmerston North when a man verbally attacked her, saying she should go back to where she came from. Because she was not “white” he assumed, wrongly, that she was an immigrant. My daughter was so upset, she had to go home. She was born in New Zealand. Her mother is a New Zealand citizen. Such racist attitudes are not unheard of at all. Just because many educated New Zealanders do not have racist attitudes, they seem to think that all New Zealanders share that view. They do not.

On a nearly daily basis in New Zealand, I heard anti-Australian remarks at work. It was racism, pure and simple. I was sick to the back teeth of the negativity – any excuse to put down Australia. This article, appearing in Stuff in 2017, puts it so well:

https://www.stuff.co.nz/stuff-nation/92030101/dear-new-zealand-what-did-australia-ever-do-to-you

“Any chance to knock down Australia is seized upon, even the most tenuous of chances to criticise us is grasped eagerly. When someone has the audacity to stand up for Australia they get told Australians are much more vitriolic, so it’s okay.

I have lived in Australia for 33 years, I have worked with Kiwis, and at no point have I heard an Australian turn as venomous towards a Kiwi as I have heard Kiwis turn towards us.

We do enjoy banter and maybe we take it too far sometimes, but I’ve never heard an Australian say they hate New Zealanders – there are so many of you over here you’re part of our country.”

I have now lived in Australia for three years. Not once, ever, have I heard an anti-New Zealand sentiment. To be perfectly honest, Australians don’t even think about New Zealand except as a travel destination, but praise our scenery and lifestyle and even the current prime minister. What did Australia ever do to earn New Zealanders’ animosity?

I was pleasantly surprised that many commenters agreed with the article, while others, of course, disagreed, uttering remarks based on ignorance. Usually, you read any comments section of a stuff article (or any social media forum) and you will read small-minded bigotry and real hatred. Note the name of the author was withheld – for good reason. The person was probably in fear of receiving death threats and I kid you not. Why such surprise that one such wanker acted on his ignorance and moral ineptitude, fed by american media?

Before 9/11 no-one really thought about muslims. Blame the yanks. The official story surrounding 9/11 is all false and since then any terrorist act has been blamed on Al Qaeda, Isis, or some other named group we’d never heard of before 2001. Any muslim, mentally unstable or otherwise, acting alone or otherwise, is labelled a terrorist for any act whatsoever (such as stabbing one person). Any non-muslim is not. At least the Christchurch act is being labelled as terrorism. Frankly, I’m surprised there have not been more anti-muslim terrorist acts before now. Sadly, I think there will be more.

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Where has the year gone?

The last time I updated, I had not yet been to NZ. I should, therefore, write something about that visit, but don’t currently have time, about to head to work. I’m working all weekend, dammit.

Speaking of work, I have picked up another part-time job, doing what I know best – cataloguing. It came out of the blue. I casually enquired of the organisation, was invited to an informal interview, and the following day was offered a contract to start work immediately. I think I am still  in shock actually. The only downside is that they are based a long way away – time-consuming to get to by public transport. It took me two hours to reach home after leaving work.

I am, therefore, buying a car. I won’t enjoy the heavy traffic, it’s true, but if I can shave an hour off the commute, it will be worth it. And then I can explore more of Victoria to my heart’s content, instead of relying on my daughter to invite me on their infrequent forays.

Gotta go!

More later.

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Shakespeare

Recently I came across a DVD set called The Hollow Crown, which turned out to be collections of Shakespeare’s plays. I haven’t seen a Shakespeare play in a long while, so grabbed this. Some good actors and none of this modern adaptation shit.

So I watched these and thought of my father who was a huge fan of Shakespeare. I followed along bits of Henry V in his 1923 copy of the Collected Works of Shakespeare (and discovered a fair bit of dialogue had been cut, so it wasn’t so easy).  I returned that DVD and saw another – from Henry VI to Richard III. Brilliant.

More good actors. Excellent. As I watched, I looked up wikipedia, realising how little I know about this period or at least about the kings before Richard III.

“Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown”

“Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, or close the wall up with our English dead”

Coincidentally, Melbourne has a pop-up Globe theatre showing a few Shakespearean plays for a limited time in the King’s Domain. I saw this with interest on the news, but was put off by their adaptations to make the plays “less stuffy” – dancing to Polynesian music, for example. Yeah, na. I’m a traditionalist. Having said that, it would be worth going but I could only afford the cheapest ticket. Shows are so expensive here (I miss Summer Shakespeare in Palmy).

I had this thought while walking to the train one day, that I wanted to try creating an online “newsletter” in a grid format with thoughts, pictures, events for friends and family. Apart from the fact I couldn’t find a suitable website for that (and I couldn’t get a WordPress format to work), I later thought would I really want to share that with people on Facebook, for example? My answer was no, and that I had a blog I never updated. I guess it’s the feeling that something is missing from Facebook. I do visit it (but mostly to look at genealogy pages) but don’t feel like sharing anything, and I still hate scrolling through heaps of shit (including the “suggested posts” which are just advertisements for dubious products or points of view – one a Christian one against gay marriage which I marked as offensive). I’ll mull on it.

 

Currently listening to: Gotan Project – Lunatico

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Brisbane

I could’ve sworn I wrote a draft about my trip to Brisbane, but it appears not.  I won’t split this up, so it will be a long post.

It was a wet day when I left home.  I caught the train to Southern Cross, arriving about half an hour before the bus I had planned to get departed.  My original plan was to have something to eat at Southern Cross.  Instead I just bought a ticket and caught the next available bus – a double-decker one.  I had allowed an hour to get to the airport, but we were there in 30 minutes.  This meant I was even earlier than I needed to be.

I printed out my boarding pass (I had checked in online), and went in search of food.  I ended up having a muffin and a ginger beer.  Then slowly wandered down to the departure gate, idly looking in book shops.  I was pulled aside for a scan to see if there was an “explosive residue” on me.  For fuck’s sake.

Waited for the Virgin airline flight, gazing out at the rain.

I had been able to choose a window seat for free, but all I saw was cloud – featureless white cloud as far as the eye could see.  It was so featureless that there was no sensation of movement – just the noise of the plane.  It was as if we were stationery.  Quite weird.

Finally we descended into Brisbane, beside what looked like a huge cloud statue of an elephant lying down.  Brisbane was grey and threatening rain, but it was warm.

I wish Melbourne had trains to the airport.  It would make things so much easier, and there wouldn’t be the worry of traffic jams.

My cousin, H, was arriving from a work trip to Sydney, so I waited for her.  Together we got a taxi to her place in Chermside.  I was introduced to her lovely cat, Molly.

After a meal and long chat, we headed to bed.

Saturday was a bit grey and windy, but we walked to the local mall.  H bought a few things at the supermarket, then we had a coffee.  Thankfully, we share the same views on politics and religion and could chat away quite happily.

H rang her mother, J (my father’s sister) at the retirement village to let her know we were coming, then drove round to see her.  She’s 95 and recently recovered from a fall and mild stroke, but she was as active and talkative as she was at her 90th birthday.  Amazing.  It was good to see her looking so well, and the only medication she takes is a blood thinner.

We only stayed an hour, but I hoped I would be able to see J again.

We returned to H’s place and made lunch, then set off for the beach at Sandgate.  It was very windy.  The seagulls just hovered.

We sat on a park bench and ate our rolls.  There were quite a few parasurfers, if that’s the right term.

Lunch finished, we went for a wander along the beachfront to the pier.

Shorncliffe pier, image from Flickr

We walked to the end of the pier.  The waves were very choppy.  Quite a few fishermen were trying their luck.  On the way back we saw what looked like blue plastic bags floating in the sea.  They were jellyfish.  I didn’t take a photo as I was afraid of dropping my mobile phone into the sea in the strong wind.  This is what they looked like.

I can’t find a name for them, other than “blue jellyfish”.  A kid showed off a few fish lined up on the boards.  A few were quite small – too small I thought, and I felt sorry for the fish.

We returned to H’s place.  There was a loud thunderstorm which continued for some time.  We watched “Beck” on SBS on Demand on H’s TV.

For dinner, we got an Uber ride to Nundah and ate at a pub which served Italian food.  I was amazed at how quickly the car turned up.  It was raining but we sat outside the pub under cover.  Lovely meal, cooked and served by real Italians (a rarity in NZ).  It was wonderful to hear the accents.  After dinner, we headed across the road to a small bar called Village Social.  There was a band called Heads Hands and Feet playing – a three-piece band made up of a bearded guy in dreads on keyboard and vocals, a Maori from Chatham Islands on guitar and vocals, and an old English guy on drums.  They were good.  I enjoyed their music.

H used her app to get another Uber ride home and it showed up almost immediately.  I was impressed.  H said that the drivers are much more polite, and if you lose something you can contact them.  This contrasts with an experience that a friend of J’s had – an elderly woman with a walker trying to get into the back of a taxi and the driver not getting out to help at all.  If taxi drivers are complaining about Uber they need to up their game.  If I ever need a taxi, I’ll download the Uber app.

H likes to go to bed early (and gets up early) so I headed to bed and watched episode 3 of “Southcliffe” on my mobile.  I didn’t sleep well that night (not as a result of the programme I might add).

Sunday dawned bright and sunny.  H headed off to her gym.  When she returned we drove to Nundah to check out the market.  Lots of stalls but H didn’t seem interested in any and walked past them all.  We sat and had a coffee (she loves her coffee), then walked back to the car.  A pointless exercise, I thought.  Not that I was interested in buying anything or watching the entertainment, but even just a browse…?  Oh well.

It was nice not to have to wear a singlet or jacket.  You can see from the photos that all you needed was a short or sleeveless top.

H’s idea was for us to go to Southbank and meet her son who was going there with his wife and young baby.  However, he was unsure when he was going to be there and sounded reluctant to meet us, so instead, after lunch, we drove north to Bribie Island.

It was a very pleasant drive.  It was wonderful to see the countryside.  I had never been north of Brisbane before.  I spotted a pelican as we crossed the bridge to the island.

We found a carpark by the beach and wandered down in barefeet.  It was so pleasant and seemed like summer.

In the distance is Moreton Island (and a container ship)

H and I walked south along the beach, me careful to avoid stepping on the many bluebottles washed up.  No-one else seemed to care about them.  I spotted some seabirds and later found out they were greater crested terns.

I had taken a camera but didn’t have a zoom lens on it.

We returned from our walk and went into the surf club for a drink.  I had a nice cool beer and H had a lemon, lime and bitters.  I found out later that there was a bush walk nearby that we could have gone on, but H seemed keen to head back.  Her son wanted her to babysit but hadn’t given a time.

So we drove back to H’s and waited for him to drop off they baby so they could go to the gym.  In the meantime, H made roast vegetables with lamb, which we ate in a bowl for some reason (and without gravy).  Eventually, H’s son and his partner turned up about 7pm!  They said they’d be an hour but it was more like two.  The baby slept for a bit, cried for a bit and H fed it some milk.  Then it cried again.  H put some kid’s programme on TV and it watched, fascinated.  Unfortunately, we had to put up with the “Wheels on the Bus” song about four or five times.  It was just after 9pm when H’s daughter-in-law showed up to collect the baby.  You may be able to tell that I don’t particularly care for babies.

Monday was another sunny day.  Unfortunately for me, H had decided to go to the gym again, so I was stuck at her place without a key.  I think it a little selfish if you have a guest (surely you can forego the gym for a day) but that’s my opinion.  We could’ve spent the morning at Southbank or something, or I could have gone for a walk.  Oh well.  I ended up watching the last of “Southcliffe” and thought the last two episodes were a complete waste of time.  H returned about 11 am and we talked for a while.  Then she took me to the airport about 12.

The plane was delayed for half an hour after we’d boarded, so we sat waiting, looking at the blue sky.

The flight was full and I had been called to the desk for a new boarding pass.  They had changed my seat to a window seat, which suited me fine.  At least this time I would get to see something.

    

As we neared Melbourne the temperature dropped and the clouds got thicker.  It was ten degrees colder than Brisbane – not a surprise.

I sat upstairs in the double-decker Skybus this time.  I tried to get a photo of the CDB as we neared it, but the bus was too bumpy.

At Southern Cross I waited for a train back home.  Again a delay but I finally reached home about 6pm, to a very happy cat.  She purred non-stop on my lap.

Back to the cold and wet.  Roll on summer.

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Umm

The cursor sits over the word ‘Title’ and I never know what to put there as I haven’t started writing yet.  I should leave it til later.

So yeah, I thought I should update as it was February since I last did.  The month of March has been and gone and we’re well into the first week of April.

Daylight saving has ended and the days are getting cooler, and now darker.  It hasn’t been cold yet though, which is good.  Yesterday, however, was a fantastic sunny 29 deg.  I loved the warmth.  I never get sick of it.  Today was wet so I stayed indoors at lunchtime.

Friend F came over at Easter from NZ.  She normally stays with her sisters, but her mother was staying there.  Initially she said she was going to stay from Wednesday night to Saturday night and so I prepared.  Come Wednesday she text to say she was in the country but would be staying over at someone’s place.  She later said she’d come over on Friday morning as family wanted her on the Thursday.  That was fine cos I was working anyway.  Friday morning I waited for a text to meet her at the station.  It was 11.30 before she text to say she was waiting for someone to take her to the station.  Two hours later she said she was at the platform (not mentioning which one).  She finally turned up about 2 pm.  I wasted the morning, not going grocery shopping, etc, because I thought she would be turning up any minute, but anyway.  Turned out she was over for her niece’s 21st and I was invited.  I knew the sisters (had known them from before they started high school) so it was good to see them.  I hadn’t met the niece or one of the nephews before.  Lovely meal at an Italian restaurant in Ivanhoe.  One of the guests dropped me off in her car when it finished, no-one allowing me to take a train so late at night.  F was going to stay at the friend’s house again because she was leaving early the next morning and they were closer to the airport.  So it ended up being only a one-night stay.  However, we went for a walk to the park, walked along Southbank, shopped at DFO, looked in the NGV and had a long chat and glasses of wine.  It was good.

Nothing has happened since then.  C and W ended up buying the expensive house, W assuring C that they could afford it.  I hope so.  It’s a nice house but… They move in next month and then about a week or two later are going to China for a couple of weeks.  I would offer to house-sit their new house but Jasmine would be too unsettled.

Well, anyway, that’s enough for now.  Can’t think of anything.  May do later, typically.  I often think of things I was going to say after I’ve hit “publish” or “send” in an email.

Ciao.

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I’m back!

Finally, I’m settled enough with the PC up and running to be able to update this blog.  I couldn’t before now on my tablet as I’d forgotten the password, and on the PC the password is already there.  I still have no idea what it is.

Well, where to start?  I’m surrounded by boxes in the second bedroom of a unit.  It’s just chaos.  Any photos I’ve taken for the past nearly two months have been on the smartphone, apart from a handful on the DSLR, so I can’t illustrate much in catch-up.

I guess I should start where I left off.  The movers took about three hours, including packing leftover stuff I hadn’t done, and wrapping the furniture in cardboard.  Fascinating.  The two guys talked to each other and said “bro” in every sentence, I think.  While they were there I cleaned, and afterwards, vacuumed.  I took any remaining rubbish and bits and pieces to rubbish and recycling bins.  I had a last look around the house.  I probably took photos.  I haven’t uploaded any yet, so may return to this post to insert a couple.  I lay on my bedroom floor and laughed and cried, so mixed feelings you might say.  I knew I’d miss some aspects of the house, especially the private garden at the back, but I wouldn’t miss all the things that needed doing to it, the damp and the cold.  Home is where your stuff is, and my stuff (and Jasmine) were no longer there.  It was an empty shell.  It had served its purpose (when I needed a place for the kids to grow up and so I could have dogs).  I’d been there nearly 22 years.  It was time to move on.

I dropped off stuff like cleaning materials and the vacuum cleaner, etc etc, then got dropped off at (ex-)colleague’s place.  She had a nice little semi-detached unit, and I was thinking I’d be happy with that, with a second bedroom to use as an office/study/hobby room.  Funny how I had 2 extra bedrooms in the house but they were always the girls’ rooms and I somehow couldn’t adapt them for my use.  I had a nice meal with R, and her bed was very comfy.

We headed into town before driving south.  She wanted to get a picture framed and I wanted to pick up a netcode thing so I could transfer money from my NZ account to my Australian one.  It hadn’t arrived.  They were very apologetic and said they’d courier it to my Australian address.  So, onward to Wellington, stopping at Otaki to look at shops, and Paraparaumu to have lunch.  Once at the airport, we had a (overpriced) cold drink each and a chat.  I was very grateful to her for taking time off work to take me to the airport.  I had chosen a civilised afternoon flight to make things easier, and it certainly did.  It was a relaxing day on which to be flying, rather than stressing out at catching the flight on time.

An unremarkable flight and it was a cold wind at Melbourne airport as I waited for C and W to pick me up.  It was good to see them and I smiled as I got in the car and said “I’m homeless and jobless!” W assured me I wasn’t homeless, which was sweet of him, but their apartment is small.

Now, my initial plan was for Jasmine to stay with them once she was picked up.  Unfortunately, I was told that W is allergic to cats (even though they used to have a Siamese – different type of fur I suppose).  A fairly fluffy cat in a small apartment wasn’t going to work, so after a couple of nights she was put into a cattery.  So I didn’t see her on my arrival.  I was upset about that – basically it was like she was in quarantine, and I was encouraged to take Jasmine over because there was no quarantine.  There was nothing I could do except hope I found a place fairly quickly to rescue her.  The poor girl.  I felt really bad, but C assured me she was fine.  It’s not as if she hadn’t been to a cattery before but she must have been very confused.

To cut a very long story short (at this stage), I started looking for accommodation immediately and pretty soon cut out living in an apartment.  Mostly they were too small, too student-like, or close to very busy roads.  I focussed on units which were not so numerous.  Christmas came in between so there was about a week or so when I couldn’t look at any.  It was a time-consuming process.  You’d see a place you wanted to visit but had to wait for an inspection time, which could be up to a week later.  Often I’d go all the way there and not even see the place for various reasons: the agent didn’t show up, the agent hadn’t brought all the keys so we couldn’t get in; the place had been leased that morning.  Hell of a time-waster (and money spent on trains getting there).  I was getting very depressed with the whole process.  It was apparent that I’d have to spend a fair amount a week to get the sort of place I wanted.  Some of the units were in a dreadful state, with nothing having been done to them since the 70s (it looked like).

Finally, I saw a unit which had had new carpet installed and had been repainted, so it looked ok.  The area was nice and it was big enough.  I applied and, relief, got it.  I might update the trials and tribulations in that first week in the next post.

Was it a good decision?  Absolutely.  I regret nothing.  More later.

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There and back again

Already well over a week since I went to Melbourne.

C picked me up from the airport and we arranged to meet H at her place.  From there we walked to Fairfield shopping area and walked down to a Thai restaurant.  So many good eating places along that street.  Nice food, then walked back, and saw a cute little ring-tailed possum looking down on us.

Saturday, arranged to meet bro at aunt’s place.  C drove us there.  At first I didn’t recognise aunt J, as she’d aged so much, and was with a grey-haired man I also didn’t recognise.  Then saw cousin R and got out to greet them.  The man was R’s husband, of course.  They were all in the garden tidying it up during their visit from Bairnsdale.  K and G arrived shortly after while we were about to have a cup of tea, then cousin H arrived, having flown down from Brisbane.  Walked to a Japanese restaurant nearby for lunch.  After we returned, decided to drive to one of the vineyards up the Yarra valley and did some wine tasting at Rochford.

I found all the wine a bit dry for me.  Continued to Healesville and finally settled on another vineyard cafe for dinner.

Very pleasant.  H couldn’t join us as she finished work at 7pm.  We headed off to our respective “homes”, C and I following K and G to their place up the valley.  We had a cuppa and heard kookaburras.  It always makes me smile to hear them.  C and I drove back, reaching home about 10ish.

H did meet us (C, K and G) the next day at the convent at Abbotsford.  R and G returned to Bairnsdale but H joined us as well.  We had lunch at Lentil as Anything (wonderful food and said to be closing because people weren’t giving enough money for the food – payment by donation).  Wandered around the grounds afterwards and then along the river.

From there we made our way to IKEA and had a look around.  H and I liked the day bed so I think I’ll have to get one of those for the second bedroom.  Spotted potential candidates for the couch.  C was sick of driving so she took the car home while the rest of us caught the train into the CBD.  H had drinks with colleagues to go to, so the rest of us made our way to the Munich Brauhaus on the South bank.  It was extremely noisy and unpleasant (architects never seem to get the acoustics right for cafes and bars).  We waited for C and then continued onto the Belgian bar, where we ate dinner.  At Flinders Street station we all went our separate ways.  H would fly back to Brisbane the next day.

Monday, I took the train to Fairfield to meet H.  We had lunch at one of the Mediterranean cafes along the main street then went for a walk to Northcote.  Very pleasant neighbourhood.  She found me a pet shop where they sold a spray to calm cats.  Very useful for Jasmine’s upcoming trip to Wellington to catch the plane over.  It wasn’t cheap though, but worth it if it helps, and apparently it does.  It was quite hot, so we wandered past a pub which didn’t look very inviting on the outside but it was nice inside, if empty.  We were even offered a beer tasting before choosing one.  Then we took the beers out the back to the outside part and found lots of people there chilling and reading books, etc.  It was wonderful.  We returned to H’s place where she made dinner.  I caught the train back.

Tuesday, H and I had arranged to meet K and G and caught the same train (great organisational skills there) for the one hour trip to where they were staying.  They picked us up from the station at Lilydale and we headed into the Dandenongs.  G wanted to go to the William Rickett’s sanctuary.  I’d never heard of it and didn’t know what to expect.  I thought sanctuary might involve animals but it was a path around the man’s sculptures.  They were a bit samey, I thought.  Pleasant walk though.  From there we stopped at Olinda and had a pie.  Well, we didn’t think much of them.  Bro and I ordered a steak and bacon pie and it was just like a normal mince pie.  Didn’t see any bacon.  We felt ripped off, and H even more so when we had to pay $3.20 for a small bottle of water.  G’s next desire was to go to the rhododendron gardens, even though I knew the season was pretty much over.  Lovely tall gum trees at the entrance though.

As I suspected, there were few rhododendrons still in flower, but the gardens were nice to walk through, with many other different plants and trees to see and a lovely view from one spot.

The gardens would be stunning at their peak.  We did the loop around the gardens and were heading back when bro spotted a snake on the path.  I had never seen one in the wild but was almost too late to see it as it turned and slithered into the bushes as soon as it sensed us.

I figured out later (from bro’s superior photo) that it was a lowland copperhead snake.  From the gardens we headed to an area where we could walk through the gums on walking tracks (Ferntree gully?).  I kept a lookout for snakes in the undergrowth, while also trying to look up to find birds – tricky!  I did see some little black birds flitting around but couldn’t get a photo.  K didn’t hear his favourite whipbirds.  After the walk we looked for somewhere for a beer and something to eat.  We did have a beer at Coldstream but decided not to stay to eat.  It was still quite early.  We continued to Yarra Glen but places were either closing or were not serving food until 5.30 or 6pm, even if they sold beer (you’d think they’d offer snacks, but no).  After looking at the one-dish menu at the beer place we settled on the remaining Grand Hotel, avoiding the kids and the pop music.  The food was average.  We returned with K and G to their place and this time saw a kangaroo and its joey.  She wasn’t too concerned at our presence nearby.

H and I missed a train so had to wait an hour for another at Wattle Glen.  H could get off at Fairfield, but I changed trains at Flinders and got another to Prahran, arriving about 10.30.

Wednesday was a right-off, as I woke with stomach pains.  C had left for work and I had to make do without pain meds (she’d run out).  Diarrhoea for most of the day and vomiting.  Not pleasant.  I couldn’t leave the apartment as W had the spare key and he was in China.  H said she’d head over with some panadol and food, although I wasn’t hungry.  I could only put it down to the chicken I’d eaten the evening before.  I napped while waiting for H but then as soon as I got up to let her in, I had to go to the bathroom again to vomit.  Not at all pleasant.  We’d arranged to meet K and G at a Burmese restaurant that night, so I was pissed off to miss out on it.  H left to meet them and C, and I stayed back, feeling rather sorry for myself.

Thursday was my last full day so I was determined to get out.  My stomach felt a little achey still, but I headed out, making my way to the zoo.  I chose the wrong time of day to go – when there were scores of school kids, and mothers with their screaming toddlers.   Some animals might have a little more room to move and had dirt and grass, but the enclosures were still too small and I was angered at the noise – not just from the kids, but from pop music playing and recordings which no-one listened to and even the constant clicking of an electric fence around the gorilla enclosure.  The poor animals.  I felt sorry for all of them.  Zoos like that are not about conservation – it’s all entertainment – for kids.  They breed simply to replace the inmates with younger ones to grow up in enclosed misery.  These kids should be taught about the diminishing environment of the animals’ native habitat and how their consumption is affecting them, not shown around cages with little extra play activities.  I was annoyed and saddened.

My sandals had not been up to the task of walking all day, so I headed into the CBD and walked (slowly) to DFO and bought some flat, comfortable shoes.  Then I could comfortably walk along the South Bank to Fed Square, which I hadn’t yet been to on this trip.  I people-watched for a while, then met C at the corner of Swanston and Collins Streets.  We had a look at the Myer shop windows (a cute animated story about a lost dog at Xmas time) before walking further to eat ramen noodles at a Japanese restaurant.

Friday was the day of flying back and I met H at Southern Cross station.  We had pho, watched by seagulls, then I caught the skybus to the airport.  It was now raining (but cleared up later).  The traffic meant the skybus took twice as long to get to the airport, which made me panic a bit, trying to find the check-in, not being able to get the automatic machine to work, trying to find somewhere to fill the departure card in, queueing up in the wrong place and being told off, then finally getting to the gate, only to be told the flight was delayed half an hour.  Oh, the joys of travelling.

Arrived in Wellington at 11.45 pm local time.  People took forever to retrieve bags and get off, ages to line up at the few smartgate queues, but even then it was another 15 minutes before the bags even started appearing at the baggage claim.  People were not amused, someone nearby comparing it to a third world country.  I then had to wait ages for the shuttle to take me back to the long-term carpark and he drove at about 30 kph.  One hour after landing, I was finally able to drive home, arriving at 2.45 am.  I never seem to have a pleasant experience returning to NZ.  Perhaps it’s just as well that next time I won’t be returning.

 

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