Tales from the Gael

A new sculpture was unveiled beside the jetty at Brighton.

It’s dedicated to Kitty Whyte. I decided to walk the 4 kms to have a look, as her story is really quite gruesome. Poor lady was a school teacher, and thought it was terrible that all these children living so close to the sea couldn’t swim, so she arranged swimming lessons. She was 35 on that fateful day in March of 1926 when she dived off the jetty, with a class of children watching, straight into the jaws of a great white shark. I walked out and looked down, and there were the usual fishermen fishing for whiting and squid, it was all so peaceful, and the water looked relatively shallow.

I  remember sitting with John on a bench just along from the jetty, and reading the inscription dedicated to Lily, who had travelled from Ayrshire in Scotland in the 1800s and was fondly remembered by her own words,

‘Sit doon a while and tak the weight aff yer feet’.

I wanted to read it again, but when I looked yesterday, and I read all the epitaphs on the benches from Glenelg to Brighton, Lily’s had been hacked out and stolen. So sad.

But on the way I read such apt phrases,

‘How serene time feels whilst sitting by the ocean’.

‘Sing, dance, run. Don’t be afraid to dream. For Tanya who was tragically killed at 17′.

 Imagine the horror I felt when John arrived home from work, and just after taking off his jacket his phone rang. He looked sort of bemused.  It was a death threat.

Some guy, he thinks it was an Asian voice said, ‘I know where you live Johno, I’m going to kill you.’

John sort of laughed and said, ‘Oh yes, so you’re going to kill me?’ and the phone went dead.

Before we came, the phone belonged to Jihun, the Korean fellow in the office, and John often gets miss calls…so he rang Jihun and asked him if he had any enemies etc. They made light of it, and there was a lot of laughing, and John reminded Jihun to make sure his salary was paid quickly etc etc….but this job is scary and there are a lot of gangs here in Australia. The nightly news is horrific, with murders, arson attacks, shootings. I am a little afraid to go out today…I shall be looking for shady characters lurking around our building.

At the weekend we went into Adelaide to see the newly renovated wing of the Art Gallery. It was all very splendid, and the paintings reflected a lot of Australian bush, and life as it was way back then…it was really interesting. But the one that really grabbed me was of a fine lady in black, clothed in sumptuous silks and adorned with precious jewels and gold, obviously reflecting her wealth and social position.

Elizabeth Soloman’s father-in-law was the notorious convict, ‘Ikey’ Soloman, who was transported to Tasmania in the 1830s and on whom Charles Dickens based his character, Fagin in ‘Oliver Twist’. Ikey’s son, John became a very successful gold merchant in Sydney and commissioned this portrait to demonstrate his wealth and success.

It’s sad really that the bush can only be seen in paintings of long ago. There is little evidence of it in modern Australia. Nothing in modern art work, songs or television. Gone are the programmes of The Flying Doctors, Skippy, and no one has replaced Steve Irwin who loved to dive into water holes and wrestle with crocodiles. We have to make a concentrated effort to leave the concrete of the pavements and find out what lies beyond the suburbs. Before I leave I would really love to take a bus from Adelaide and travel to Darwin. I do hope we can do it. I found this poem by Banjo Patterson who reminded me of the grandeur of this country and its skies.

‘And the bush had friends to meet him,

And their kindly voices greet him

In the murmur of the breezes and the river on its bars,

And he sees the vision splendid

Of the sunlit plains extended,

And at night the wond’rous glory

Of the everlasting stars’.

So although so many creeks have become petrol stations, and people see it all from coaches with the air con on high, and so many small towns have blanded out and resemble outer suburbs with their organic food shops and tai chi classes, I still believe that if you really want to see the bush, you can, with a car and a couple of hundred dollars, and the wish and the will.

On On…to a new day!  Enough retrospection and morbid thoughts. The sea is blue and I don’t want to think of chapters of Hell’s Angels, Triads, or any other shifty order. Disconcerting though that everyone in this country wears shades….all dodgy!!!!

Well we are legal eagles again, visas all topped up and we are back in our beautiful Adelaide suburb, and although it was fun to go, it is nice to be back into our own routines. Auckland was cold and chilly, and we got a rude awakening to winter in the southern hemisphere…back to gloves and scarves and the faithful red duffle coat.

We walked around the up market district of Parnell and I photographed John, looking very furtive as though he was a hit man, lurking by the palm tree then making his get-away down through the bush walk!

Visited the glow worms in Waitomo, which was an amazing phenomena…the caves reminded me of the caves in Halong Bay in Vietnam, but I have never seen glow worms light up like a starry sky…Beautiful. Apparently Dame Kiri de Kanawa sang in one of the caves which is domed like a cathedral. Must have been amazing. Some twit in our group tried to sing Happy Birthday….it was NOT memorable.

We zoomed to Rotorua, in order to sample all the Maori experience, like good tourists and lay in the Polynesian thermal pools, feeling like lobsters slowly cooking to death in a temp of 42C. Very good for joints and so on.

Then later witnessed the bubbling mud pools, and whizzing geysers whilst sitting on volcanic hot rocks.

Loved the name of the village…couldn’t quite get my tongue around it!

John left on Monday and my friend Lyn drove me back to Wanganui (600kms) through the rolling hills and fields of the North Island.

It was so nice to see her home again, and I walked around, seeing pictures, Chinese knick-knacks and it was rather like seeing old friends…memories of another time. It was bitterly cold there, and even colder when we drove down to Wellington to the theatre, another 3 hours drive…(I took the Lyceum and the Kings in Edinburgh so much for granted!) On the way back we stopped in for afternoon tea with her friend, who had prepared sandwiches and little cakes and served them on a three tier plate stand…it was charming!

Holidays and catch ups are always nice, and for the few days we were together, Lyn and I covered the years and the people that we were once close to.

But a major part of the experience was the sewing up of all the squares to make up the quilt. Lyn just sat at her machine and sewed away, and I was the gofer, running back and forwards to the iron, snipping edges and just generally getting in the way. It looks good. NOW I have to find a quilting group here in Glenelg to help me put on the backing.

I am very happy to be back in our minimalist apartment, to see the sea so close, and march about up Jetty Road and along the promenade by the shore. The temperature is lovely. No deep falls of snow or earthquakes (there were two on the North Island whilst I was there) or torrential rain. One night I thought the end of the world had arrived….a crack of lightening literally exploded in my bedroom and I woke as though I’d been attacked. It was 2 am, and apparently it was the worst storm they had had in over 60 years. Now, that is something. On the day I was supposed to fly back to Auckland, I was really worried I wouldn’t get back, but although it was very bumpy our little cigar with propellers took to the clouds in the capable hands of a very small lady driver. Her co-pilot looked as though he was reading the manual. Very disconcerting. Hmmmm.

Lyn took me to see some glass blowing in Wanganui. They make some phenomenal stuff, and she was hoping one of the partners in the Chronicle Glass Studio would let me make a paper weight. Unfortunately they were flat out filling an order for ‘Wellie Wood’. (Wellington) They have been commissioned to make about a million glass lanterns for the upcoming film, ‘The Hobbit’. They have already made all the goblets, and a stained glass window. So much fame and glory for such a small studio. I just loved watching the process, and now I do understand the saying, ‘red’ hot and I was fascinated seeing the blowing of the glass, like bubble gum so the lantern fitted into the wrought iron cage. Brilliant. I shall have to go and see The Hobbit now, and pay attention to the glass work!

John is going demented here with work. The safety officer has quit (been asked to) as he was  really hindering the work, and antagonising everyone by his niggling, the project manager is in Pakistan overseeing a job there, whilst the bombs are going off, and John is counting the minutes until the weekend! Stressful times.

I have come to the conclusion that no matter where we are in the world, and especially now as we are so far flung from friends and family, all of us just need ‘a wee bit of company’. So many lonely people, and you don’t realise until you do meet up with a long lost friend.

I loved this picture from Indonesia of the macaque monkey that stole a camera and snapped himself in all manner of vain poses. Just love it!

The weather has turned balmy; perfect for fishing but alas no luck. Still it’s pleasant to stand on the jetty and contemplate the Norfolk pines that only grow near the beaches and watch the pelicans sail sedately past.

Hard to think this is mid-winter, and walking along the promenade towards Brighton, I cannot understand why more people don’t immigrate to this wonderful land.

At the weekend we walked along the river that cuts through Adelaide and snapped the black swans (how could Tchaikovsky paint them so evil?) and moor hens and so on.

It was all so very pleasant and we read about how there used to be a pleasure pontoon on the river in 1924 where the gay young things used to come and flap and dance and sip cocktails. So hard to imagine, but it ended in tears. There was an explosion and the whole thing sank and that was that….foul play I am sure. Quite a different picture from the pioneer ladies hauling their bricks up mountain tracks to build churches. Oh the sins of the city, full of churches and whores.

John and I decided to have a little session in a Chinese Massage parlour…he opted for a head and shoulders, to try and relieve the tensions of the last week at the snake pit, as he fondly calls his office. (He still hates his job; in fact it’s getting worse). I decided to go for an AOK ion cleansing treatment. You put your feet in a basin of clean water, with some electrodes in it, and for 30 minutes it generates a stream of positive and negative ions which help to stimulate and detoxify different organs and tissues. Sounds good. Imagine my horror when I was given a chart and saw how the water colour reflects your inner health! After 15 mins the water was bright orange. I looked at the chart and it would seem this was a signal from my joints. There were a few black particles which is a sign of heavy metals and some bubbles which are fats and oils. So not too bad. The lady next to me must be on her last legs. Her water turned black. (Chart says it’s detoxifying from the liver and gall bladder) Hmmmm. I walked away feeling wonderful and cleansed and just a little proud of my healthy life style! That woman should be warned!

Had to smile at some of the crazy animal stories this week. Watched the news last night and saw a report in Florida about a shark hurling itself out of the water and flipping itself over a surf board. The boy must have thought his end had come!

Then there is Happy Feet the penguin that sort of took a wrong turn and is now recovering from stomach surgery to remove a pile of sand from its innards. Apparently some big ice cutter ship is taking him home as soon as he recovers his strength!

And finally an endangered helmeted honeyeater was recently spotted near Melbourne.

He is 16, the oldest ever recorded wild bird of its species, and is nick named Dear Old Boy. I love it…its quite amazing he’s survived so long, being endangered and all that.

Still thinking of funny names, I remember Billy Connolly, when he was travelling in New Zealand came across a grave, containing an unknown body.  The villagers out of compassion erected a stone and engraved it with the words, ‘Here lies somebody’s darling’. How lovely. I wish I knew where it was, and could go and visit.

John and I are now watching the Chilean Ash Cloud with a personal concern, as it now directly affects us and our flight to New Zealand this Friday. He is just about dancing with glee to get a break, albeit for a weekend only, and I am excited as I will meet up with my old friend Lyn, and stay on with her in Wanganuii for a further week. She is going to help me turn my embroidery into a quilt, as I have finally finished the squares.

Here in Adelaide, I don’t think I will go to the next meeting of the South Australia’s Women’s Writers Group, as it is to be the AGM. Heather, who told us last time about forcing a young aborigine boy to eat worms, said the meeting will be like an old fashioned school committee…the office bearers just vote for themselves then get up and do a ‘musical chairs’ routine then sit down in their new position! The same ladies have been on the committee for the last 30 years, and are now all in their 70’s, 80’s and 90’s. I haven’t had much success in socialising. People here in Glenelg seem very insular, or else I have not found the right ones. But, I am full of resolve. When I come back I am going to join a bush walking club. And maybe take a bus trip somewhere. But for now, it’s off to the Land Of the Long White Cloud!

I am the hunter and gatherer!

I wrestled my wriggly fish out of the sea, hurled it across the jetty to the shouts of encouragement from 6 Muslim ladies and pranced about as it jumped about until a fellow fisherman, with a bristly chin, marched down and took my fish in hand, eased out the hook, dispatched it with ease then watched me stand victorious for my photo finish. It was just so exciting. It was a King George Whiting, which is apparently very good, and they retail in the shops for $60 a kilo…so that is quite impressive. I took my slippery catch home and duly gutted and cooked it and John and I gobbled it up for dinner. (We both wished I’d caught 2!)

So now I am ‘blooded’ I am all set to go again…but alas the wintry storms are upon us and the seas are too rough. Indeed further around the state trees are falling on busses and cars and roofs are flying off houses. It is not the time to be luring fish on to the jetty. I shall have to bide my time.

We went to Port Adelaide at the weekend…it is the 2^nd biggest port in Australia for handling mineral exports and it has a huge Sunday market as its second claim to fame. There was all the usual flea market stuff, and we had to keep remembering we are only here for a short time, and cannot go buying Georgian furniture, or other delectable antiques. Instead we went to a factory outlet place where I got a new pair of trainers for a ridiculously low price…the only snag is that John expects me to go running with him on a Saturday morning. Hmmmm. Wonder what my chances are of a Norfolk pine falling on me? Although I go to yoga and walk for an hour every day, I still stand on the scales and sigh deeply…it is what goes into you that counts…no amount of running will help if you still enjoy a little Turkish Delight with your afternoon tea.

Talking of delights, I came across a delicious Vietnamese recipe, and cooked it up yesterday. It is street food par excellence. It is called Bun Cha patties with rice noodles and leaves. I remember eating it with Emilda on the streets of Hanoi, and the barbecuing smell of the meat was just too good to describe.  We ate at a table covered with some flowery plastic cloth, and sat on tiny blue plastic chairs.  I remember it being near the railway station. Having heard of some horrors it’s usually best to ignore all the offers of extreme eating, whether it’s barbecue stinkbugs on a stick, crispy scorpions or still-beating snake hearts and just concentrate on the less showy and more conventionally delicious dishes instead. During my year working in Tien Yen I lost so much weight, and yet I was always full…it must have been the Dukan diet…all protein and vegetables. This bun cha dish last night was pork rissoles, served with squiggly rice noodles all wrapped in lettuce. Now if I had that every day I would be as thin as a stick insect…not forgetting the run along the beach in new trendy trainers. (I don’t even run for a bus)

As the weather is so stormy I have used my time to get back to the ‘Highland Rocks’, and  for a few hours each day I am transported to the West Coast of Scotland where poor Dolly is about to leave us for that great shiny place in the sky. I have been writing from memory, and then I suddenly look on Facebook and see the ex Inn Keeper in Glenelg has posted the most beautiful pictures.

Seeing the familiar hills and sea from a similar view point that I used to look out on, makes the years just tumble away. Communication is a wonderful thing.

I’ve just whirled around like an amazing Mrs Mop…cleaning up after the Queen’s Birthday. The place is sparkling and I am worn out. I HATE cleaning the bath…such a strain on the back. Anyway, that is just too mundane, especially as I am now a fully-fledged fisherwoman.

Nick arrived from Sydney for the long weekend, and he and I spent long fruitless hours on the rocks and jetty, spinning and casting and getting snagged. I fell on some giant rocks and grazed my knee and bruised my shin…major OUCH…thoughts of poo pooing children in the playground…’Oh come along, that’s just a little scratch blah blah blah’ well it was sore! And very undignified.

Yesterday morning before he got his plane, we spent the whole morning in the sunshine, and although we didn’t even get a nibble, we couldn’t believe it when 2 beautiful dolphins swam around and around, and came right up to us…it was fantastic. Made up for our lack of ‘tight lines’. Talked to a fisherman coming in on a very expensive ocean-going yacht, with mighty fixed rods over the back and I asked if he had any luck…he looked a bit cagey, and said, ‘there was a heap of water between the fish!’ Made me feel better. Maybe the elusive darlings have all migrated to warmer climes. The silly man in the fish tackle shop seemed to think the squid were throwing themselves on to the hooks last weekend. I am starting to believe the myths regarding ‘fishermen tales.’!

From being a hunter gatherer full of evil intent I felt a little chastened last night as John and I went to see Jane Goodall talking about conservation to about 2000 people at Adelaide’ Ridley Pavilion.  We must be kind to our fellow man, animal, planet etc and not go plundering the oceans. Hmmmm.

She was fantastic though and it’s 50 years since she first went to the Gombi and made friends with those chimps that formed the basis of her studies and gave so much pleasure and interest to so many. I first heard of her in a National Geographic magazine in Singapore in 1977, where she had plotted out the family tree of the old matriarch, Flo. Last night it was more about what each of us can do to be a better world citizen…Oh well, I am not depleting the fishing stocks. (yet)

John and I went back to Handorf on Sunday. We ate cinnamon toast with cream and sliced oranges then walked about. It is the oldest German settlement in Australia, and quite quaint with pretty shops and an olde worlde feel.  I had my palm read by a blue eyed man wearing a red bandanna. He told me that all my major lines swooped the wrong way into my lunar mound (as opposed to my mound of venus) so it means all sorts of weird and wonderful things. Basically I remember being ‘here’ before and so am melancholic and have spells of wanting the ‘other life’ HA HA HA! Always knew I was a Russian many moons ago!

I did give thought to the pioneer women of Handorf…way back when. Whilst their men folk were off founding Australia, they tended the home steads and carried baskets of vegetables and dairy produce on their backs down to Adelaide. I suppose as the crow flies on The Pioneer Women’s trail it must be about 20 miles. On the homeward journey they were required to each carry two bricks for the construction of a church. It must have been a struggle for those women on the steep slopes on such a narrow track climbing back up in the heat or in the rain or fog.

By  contrast we zoomed off in our mighty modern motor to see the great Murray River. It was vast and brown, and home to the paddle steamer, Marion, which is similar to the Waverley that plies its way around the west coast of Scotland.

We searched for a nice place for lunch but it was all a bit dire.  Then, just as we were about to settle for fish and chips (again) we saw a guy with a sign for roast pork rolls and fresh yabbies. $5 each. We decided to have that. My yabbies looked OK, they were big and I tore into the shells, all set with my lemon wedge…but oh my goodness, they were mush with a very large black vein….UGH. John was struggling with his roll…. So we binned it all, and as we crossed the street imagine our surprise when we saw a sign.

‘Yabbie races today in the pub lounge. Race starts at 12.00.’

Presumably, after the race they’d been popped into the pot and been boiling away for about an hour.  Best not to know.

Got this beautiful picture of a poppy from a friend yesterday. I adore poppies, and for the last 4 years I haven’t seen the collection we bought at some garden show. Nick said they were beautiful last year in Edinburgh.

One of the ladies in the Writers Club was telling me about her sulphur crested cockatoos.

In the 80’s they had been used to using her pine windbreak and an ancient walnut tree to dine on, but both died.  She tried to plant a new hedge, interspersed with bottle brush to encourage the native birds, but the cockatoos didn’t return. Then followed 3 years of drought and water restrictions, all the conifers died and the battered bent quince tree keeled over. Possums ruled the garden, thriving on rose buds and ornamental plums. But just last week she heard a huge rumpus. The cockatoos were back, lunching on an olive tree, then transferred to a candle pine and finally, beside the house, 12 of them picked discarded plum kernels out of the gravel drive-way. It made me think of the meeting last night with Jane Goodall and her dire warnings. But maybe we, like nature and the birds can adapt to change.

Below is me in the Botanic Garden…with a fossil pine. It is the Woolemia Pine. It was recently discovered in the Blue Mountains of NSW, in about 1994 and it is said to be 200 million years old. I actually saw one in Inverewe Gardens in the NW of Scotland, where scientists say they are trying to see how it copes with different climates and temperatures. And here is John, after we walked to Brighton for some eggs Benedict!

Phew, it seems I don’t have the killer ecoli bug that is killing so many in Hamburg. I am back up on my horse and feeling a lot better. Though goodness knows why? I googled remedies for this killer bug, and it suggested BRAT, ie bananas, rice, applesauce and toast. I duly followed it, then went on a tour-about at the weekend and promptly ate an apple doughnut, an apple pie, a Cornish pasty and an organic duck pie!

This is me who actually HATES pastry! Oh well, all is well and I am now fighting fit and full of the joys. Gloominess is such a necessary evil, for afterwards the world just takes on a new lightness.

On Saturday John and I drove down the Fleurieu Peninsula to a cute little town called Carrickalinga. Pretty countryside and we passed through the McLaren vineyard country and duly stopped to buy a case of Cleanskins. You get a delicious wine which has failed the ‘test’ so it’s sold off quite cheaply without a label. We bought a case of Sauvignon, and so far no complaints. John was very pleased with the giant bottle of port he managed to squeeze into the box as well! I can see some decadent lunches ahead.

On Sunday we headed north, away from the beaches into the great swathes of agricultural land, and we drove for miles and miles in a straight line.

Imagine the surprise when we saw this sign!

Desperate for a coffee we called into Tarlee, and found this rather nasty ‘Take Away and Deli’ that offered very old looking pies and cakes with cerise and luminous green icing. When we drove out, John said, ‘what the …was that?!’ and just on cue a sign appeared!

We drove on and on and came to Burra, a copper mining town that relives its heritage once a year, and everyone dresses up and pretends they have just arrived from Cornwall.

There was a giant machine made from blue gum and iron, and is called The Jigger. This was built to transport a water pump that was sent from Cornwall, way back when, and it took 2 months to get up the road from Port Adelaide. Not such lucrative years, but the mining did pick up later on. What was memorable for us was as we gazed at the scarred hillside, a real live wild kangaroo suddenly bounced past!

Went to my Writers meeting on Thursday and was absolutely entranced with the guest speaker, a lady called Christobel Mattingley. She has written so many books, and is at present working on her third biography. She told stories of her research and they became stories within stories and we all just sat spellbound. She told us about Edward Ebineezer Gostelow (wonderful name) and his passion for Australian birds, and then Adam Forster, who painted Australia’s wild flowers. The stories were threaded with snippets about Thistle Harris, (imagine naming a baby girl Thistle and her growing up to be a botanist!) and the tragic story of an English woman who became a famous bird painter married an Australian and just prior to sailing for the Great Southern Land contracted measles and became deaf, so she never heard the sounds of the birds she painted.

You can google Christobel, and there is even a little you tube link where she is talking about the bird man, EE Gostelow.

After Christobel’s talk, Heather, one of our ladies told a story about Sydney James Cook. He was an aborigine boy adopted by Dr Charles Duguid who came to Australia as a ship’s surgeon in 1911 and then migrated the following year. Sydney joined the family around 1930 and was brought up and educated alongside Dr Duguids other 2 children. Well Heather apparently lived next door to Sydney  and she and her friend used to play with him when they were little. She remembers daring him to eat a worm for a penny(because aborigines like that sort of thing) and he did…loads of them! (quite smart, he knew how to make a small fortune!) and then he threw a big stone over the wall, nearly killing her friend, the irony was that scratched on the mighty boulder were the words ‘I love you.’ She said she saw him about fifty years later, quite unexpectedly. She and her husband were taking a drive in the centre of Australia and they saw this tall aborigine man with a stick, standing like a statue. They stopped and spoke to him, and were amazed at the ‘Oxford’ English reply, very cultured. It was Sydney. He had returned to his own land and his own people.

Well the meeting closed with Elizabeth, (the 90 year old treasurer) telling us she couldn’t bank the week’s takings until next week as she was going for an eye op.

Last night we watched a documentary about Australian cattle being transported to Indonesian abattoirs. I am still reeling with shock, revulsion and pity. Conditions were the worst you could imagine and the cruelty was beyond words. The journalist responsible for most of the filming was Lyn White and I do hope her report does some good. The Greed for Gold has a lot to answer for.

On a lighter note John’s colleague, Dean is getting me a fishing rod. I am very excited as I have great plans of emptying the ocean around the jetty. He is so optimistic he said he’d supply the recipes as well!

Tomorrow is the 1st June and it is officially winter.

I have the blues today…was going to write more of The Highland Rocks, but just couldn’t get into it, and feel full of the woes, like what’s the point, will anyone want to read it etc etc. Was going to sew but the needle feels too heavy. Might just curl up with Dan Brown’s latest. Outside its cold and showery and the seas are crashing about. Can’t be bothered going out and getting soaked. Tomorrow I am going to the Writers’ Club in Adelaide, where I will meet up with the other elderly members. The secretary is 90 and she writes poetry. I need to make friends, but inertia has set in, and I’m homesick for proper BBC and friends to have a coffee with. I have ventured to yoga, but everyone just stares at their own belly buttons, and then we all leave, as though we are going somewhere special.

Did go and see Babies last week. A documentary about 4 babies from Japan, US, Namibia and Mongolia. Fantastic, as all 4 tots all reached their milestones at the same time, regardless of money, stimulus, material wealth or time spent with educational toys or chatty mums….the African baby mostly rolled about the dirt eating old bones, and his mother mostly ignored him, yet in the end he was quite the star and the most easy going. I did love the Mongolian baby, he lay at first parcelled up so he couldn’t move and his only stimulation was when a rooster jumped on the bed and marched around him. Later we see his face as a goat with giant horns dips its head into his bath.

By contrast the Japanese and American babies were bamboozled with every kind of mobile stimulation known to man. Lovely documentary by the French man, Thomas Balmez. Need the proverbial shake. I should be more positive and march about, but when you can’t you can’t. So for now, it’s off to Dan Brown.

Daytime TV in Australia is quite depressing as it is peppered with adverts reminding you to book your funeral. I don’t really watch ‘daytime’ as such, more the morning chat show but I am concerned suddenly with all these reminders. Then last night as I was preparing dinner I put on the ipod and all this music I hadn’t listened to for ages had me just about in tears. John Denver songs I played when I was pregnant with Gerry, old country stuff I heard when I was a student working the summers in Kintail, most of the folk there now dead, and of course Leonard Cohen with all the angst that he brings back. Oh well, you can’t have ups without the downs. And the mind makes hell of heaven and heaven of hell, so there we go. Onwards and upwards.

Yesterday I went for a walk alongside the beach as I do every afternoon and as I passed an elderly man putting away his mobile I heard him say, ‘3.37’ so I quipped, ‘and all is well!’ and he stopped me and told me he had just had a bypass and this was his first time out of the hospital. He just felt like a walk, and that was the nurse ringing up to check on him….and yes, it was 3.37 and all was well! I walk past all these people, and each has his own little drama going on. I just march, hoping to see some dolphins or a friendly face.

We went to Adelaide Art Gallery on Saturday. I was amazed at the collection and it felt wonderful being amongst so many ‘old friends’. There was a room dedicated to 16 and 17^th Century Italian Art, and other stuff related to the courses I did for my OU degree…memories of the trips to Antwerp and Venice, Rome and Florence…magical days. Paintings and music seem to trigger the memory and then it all floods back. Just a pity all the learning doesn’t…I can’t remember anything factual, let alone write an essay.  Ah well.

We regained our strength with a light lunch!!!

And staggered off to the Zoo where we met up with all our Australian buddies ie the koala, Tasmanian devil, wombats and kangaroos which was nice, but the highlight for me was the meerkats and the pandas.

The meerkats were just the funniest little creatures, and I had never seen a live one before. They obviously appointed one little guy as the official look-out while the rest all partied around the enclosure. This look-out spent the whole time alert, thinking the giraffes might invade at any minute. To be honest I don’t think the giraffes could have cared less. He should have been more worried about me, I was just desperate to steal one of the gang…I imagine it would provide endless fun and amusement!

The pandas were cute, just being pandas. As were all the other creatures….nice Zoo and for once all the animals were alert…even the Taipan snake (most poisonous ever) was moving about for the world to see, instead of being comatose as they usually are.

Climbed up to Mount Lofty and Mount Barker on Sunday. Nice views and nice to exchange the sea side scenery for the lovely lush hinterland. Look at this maple, it’s like the ‘burning bush’.

All for now. Going to make some pumpkin soup.

I am sitting here looking down at a very stormy sea. The surf is crashing and still the intrepid ‘keep fitters’ walk along with their heads down, marching with a mission. I had toyed with buying a cheap fishing rod to cast off the jetty, but seeing the weather today, I think I might have missed the halcyon days of casting a line out to a calm sea. John’s colleague Dean was very excited to hear I liked fishing, and offered to take us out on his boat, from which he has been known to land whoppers. Hmmm. I am very excited, but now with this stormy weather I think the trip will have to be postponed.

We have been gallivanting. Toured up to the Barossa Valley to view the vineyards and have a little taste. It was all so beautiful. The trees were so gorgeous, avenues of autumn splendour and the vines red and gold. We came across Jacob’s Creek, a huge concern, and we duly snapped the original creek, before going up to see the manicured lawns, the neat and tidy vines. I’m glad they are still producing the nice white I used to buy from the Co-op! We bought a pink and a fizzy!

The Barossa valley still has a German flavour from its early days, where people came, fleeing from religious persecution in Prussia and set up their Lutheran Churches and learnt the wine trade. John and I meandered round the old settler cemetery near Bethany, with the German inscribed stones, and I reflected how people like to be buried in amongst what supported them in life. I remember the graves in Vietnam, stones and mounds appearing amongst the rice paddies. Here stones are surrounded by grapes. How nice.

Have joined a yoga class and really enjoyed it, not as much as ballet of course, but it was good to have a stretch and get back to downward facing dogs and warrior poses, things I haven’t done since Doha. Nice ladies, and no one talked about funeral arrangements. This is positive.

Had a quiet giggle at my new hairdresser. His name is Steven, and he has NO interest in travel and cannot see the point of going anywhere. This is OK, but then after snipping away, he thought he would maybe like to go on a safari in Africa, as that would be quite special. I nodded and watched him snip.  He suddenly got really excited and had to stop as he launched into a fantasy about going to Las Vegas, to the gambling machines, the poker machines, and be part of all the glitz. I was quite amazed at his transformation from a homely gentleman who was telling me what oil he uses to rub on his elbows to this closet wild man. He said he blows his pay check every week on ‘scratchies’, lotto, horses and pokies! These poker machines are huge here in Australia, and John tells me that even in the office they have a ‘book’ on whether the job will be finished on time!

But much much worse is the terrible accident at the races on Friday. Oh my. I snapped this picture from the paper. It shows a group of people happily watching a race, when suddenly a riderless horse leaps over the fence into the unsuspecting crowd. Seven people were hurt, though none too serious. Look at the faces if you can….totally unaware! Magic photo.

Apart from that, I am frustrated with the stupid commercial channels on TV. I have been watching Australian Masterchef, and last night, there was a run off between two contestants…we got the scores for one fellow, and the tension was rising, when suddenly the screen went blank and we were on to the budget. They had wasted so much time on adverts, they had run out of time. Aaaargh. On a more positive note, I have ‘met’ Maggie Beer, a sort of Delia or cooking icon of the Barossa Valley on the above programme. She has introduced me to Verjuice…something I had never heard of. Wonderful stuff, I cooked a chicken with it last night…(it’s made from the juice of unfermented grapes) and was apparently huge in the middle ages and this Maggie Beer has brought it back to attention. Good to learn of new things.

We visited Adelaide’s china town, and I had the best Pho since leaving Vietnam.

John  is very tense this week, the big boss from Korea is arriving today, and yesterday John had meetings with the Irish sub contractors…the job is a nightmare, and causing a lot of sleepless nights to all concerned.

The sea is still wild, and the balcony is getting spattered with rain, and I have to go out now…which is not very appealing.  So different from when we walked back on Saturday night and saw a bride having her picture taken on the sea wall.

Well for me the week was summed up by a picture on facebook…it just says it all. Let’s just hope the hat was buried at sea as well!

I must say I did love it all, the pageantry, the spectacle and best of all ABC had the BBC commentary and it was as if I was at home in Edinburgh! There was Hugh Edwards, and Sophie and oh look there’s Elton John and how awful the Duchess of Kent is looking, and poor Camilla, she looks so agitated and unhappy. John remained glued to his crossword, as I prattled on, but he awoke and rose up like a phoenix at the sight of a rather gorgeous bridesmaid!

Look at this one…HA HA!

Had to giggle at this picture too….there’s always someone trying to get in to a good photo!

Over on the other Australian channel, Dame Edna Everidge was adding her gossipy girly take on the scene. I had to laugh out loud as she gasped in anticipation when Mrs Middleton made her appearance, ‘Aaah, it’s all right possums, we can all relax now, for here she comes in her neat little suit, ready to show us the emergency exits to the abbey!’

So, sadly it’s all over, morning TV has nothing else to speculate on, and we are just back to the local news, of murders and killings.

My news coincided with the Royals Big Day, as my Gerry and Cathal are to be wed next year. They want a winter wedding, possibly in Feb or March, so there will be no speculating on what I shall wear. I shall invest in a kilt, olive green ‘twin set and pearls’ and some sensible brown shoes. Of course I shall also wear my Russian white fox-fur hat. I have no plans of being cold! It’s all right for these brides in their long gowns! By the way the dog in the picture belonged to the photographer!

Otherwise little to report…walks along the beach sighting pelicans surfing on the waves.

They are so cool. Last night we walked out along the jetty and talked to a young Singaporean medical student who was fishing. He showed me Orion, his sword, his belt, his arm that had fallen into the sea because his constellation was so low in the sky. And apparently if I wanted, I could have got up this morning and viewed the planets aligned in the sky. It was all very uplifting.