Topic: Europe
« | August 2022 | » | ||||
![]() |
||||||
S | M | T | W | T | F | S |
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | |
7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 |
14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 |
21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 |
28 | 29 | 30 | 31 |
Get a bunch of friends together, rent a big house with a pool, go do lunch, hang out, drink some wine. You would think most people would jump at it.
Unfourtunatly life gets in the way. Love to come but I have to take my bins out on Tuesday night sort of stuff. Mick spreadsheeted it, but the numbers didn't look good. Build it and they will come I replied. So we took the leep into the unknowen. Eventually a brave quorom appeared.
Heres to you hose mates, I think we made the right choice.
As usual Click the pic for the action.
A big thanks to all the people who took the photos, you know who you are.
007
So I think I have just fixed all the photo links in this blog. It's only taken about two years of procrastination In celebration here is the first story i posted. It was on a web page back in the dark ages of 2002 in Nepal. From memory it took a whole afternoon in Mads flat, a slide scanner, and two different internet providers in Katmandu to load up. It's from when Mick and I walked to Everest.
Once upon a time there where two brothers. Who went to climb Rum Doodle the tallest mountain in the world at 40,000 � thousand feet. They took there trusty mascot and stayed in tea houses. While all the time braving the Napalie trails and checking out the scenery. . �They fought hardship, crossed wild gorges, fought their way through blizzards, all the while trying to keep the natives at bay. After 7 long days and 7 even longer nights, they reached the peak� only to find it had already been assailed by hordes of others.
They also got drunk, feed the street kids, and lost all our money at the casino but that�s another story.
The second part of the story is here, comes with a language warning.
Boats . They take forever to get there. Then there is all that bobbing around like a cork. No thanks. Choppers. Glorified Egg beaters. One hundred thousand nuts and bolts, heading in different directions. To me they seem like playing hopscotch in a minefield, not a sensible form of transport. Then there are little planes. I'm much happier with a bourbon and coke up the back where I can't see the pilot panicking. I know that it's twenty seven times safer then driving down the street but I'm always happier when we are back on the ground, and I'm not packed into the glove box with two hundred of my friends.
My mate has been threatening to take me up in his plane for the last fifteen years. He has even worn out one plane in that time. Friday night at the pub " Wanna fly tomorrow", beer makes you do strange things. Why not. Lilydale airport is on the edge of town, fields and hangers full of small planes. You can learn to fly there. We push open the hanger door, the little red plane is just that. Little. Two seats, three hundred and twenty kilos. Even surrounded by little planes it's little. A marvel of modern technology, made from carbon fibre, space age, electronics, and unobtainem. After an hour of checks, I squeeze into my seat. I'm not that big, but there is only one place I can put my hands without getting in the way of anything important. And I'm surround by important. Normally I'm in the back with the hosties, but the only thing behind me is a little window in the roof, a reusable grocery bag, and what looks like a large fire cracker beside it. " What's that" , I ask. That's the plane parachute. "OH" good to see the guys who built this have complete confidence.
"Clear prop", taxi , after what seem like using up about fifty feet of runway were in the the air. A couple of hours later we're back at the pub. Aside from a few bumps, it was great to see town from a different angle. Thanks mate.
Click here for the views of town.
Covid Covid Covid, I'm over it. Thankfully a bit of sanity is creeping back into my life. Micks been busy organizing a ride. The meeting point is my Cousin Rob's owns a bush block in the western districts. It's only a three hour drive after my first day of work for a couple of months. I get there at Eleven. St Aunard is named after French marshal Jacques Leroy de Saint Arnaud, commander-in-chief of the army of the East. Just thought I would throw that in. The block was once a bit of degraded farm land, but Rob has revegetated it. There are a dozen of us camped in the bush. Itinerary, day one, breakfast, ride to the pub, have lunch return. Day two ride to the café, have lunch return. At night the locals gave us a great talk on conservation efforts around the area. All in all it pretty much went to plan Thanks to, Mick, Rob, Yaroon, and Russ(not me). for the organization.
Click the pic for more.
So a year of traveling without really travelling, bye bye 2020. I've ended up in Canberra, slowly being hemmed in as the other States shut their borders around me. Contrary to popular opinion, that's not a bad thing. The bars, and shops are still open. Canberra has lots of things to do, and where i'm living I can walk out the front door and be in the bush. Roll on 2021.
A guest appearance from Emma about the joys of travelling while not being allowed to travel more than 5 kms from home.
Until Sunday 13 September, Spring had been putting in an appearance in Melbourne, but only for a day or two. Then she would slip back indoors, to be replaced by chillsome, grey scale days. But last Sunday, Spring put on her rainbow coloured party frock, threw open the closet door, thumbed her nose at Old Dad Winter, and went cavorting about the town. And She stopped traffic, including me: I turned the corner from my house and halted under a tree, bursting with new green growth, against a azure sky, being enjoyed by a gang of Rainbow Lorikeets. As I stood there, a cheerful lass called out to me: “Hey, it’s Spring!” We could both sense the usual joy and freedom that Spring brings, but also the specialness of this particular Spring after weeks of Winter and lockdown. When we parted, we were both nearly dancing down the street.
To celebrate this joyous pandemonium of sunshine and rainbows, I did something that I’ve not done for some time: I mounted my trusty steed (bicycle) and went for a ride. It was glorious. My fellow Melbournians were out and about in the same heady state of euphoria.
This brings me to some cogitations on the art of travel. Now I admit that I am disappointed that I did not get to go to the Olympics this year as I was scheduled to do, and no doubt I will be disappointed if I can’t go in 2021. However, I’ve tried to stay positive and see some of the things that we are allowed to do as alternate forms of travel of a sort.
In his book The Art of Travel, the philosopher, Alain de Botton, asks why we don’t apply the same curiosity and wonder to our own locality that we deploy when visiting somewhere new. He also makes reference to the thinker, John Ruskin’s view, that to properly savour a location, one should only ever travel five miles a day. So, during our Stage 4 lockdown (when we are only allowed to travel five kilometres from home), I have been trying to apply these principles. I try to see my neighbourhood as a tourist. These days I have started running again, and have a 5km circuit that I run 2-3 times a week and try to see it anew each time. As for Rainbow Lorikeets, they would stop any tourist in their tracks!
I have always delighted in the travel experience that you can participate in through reading. Each time they lock us down, I pick an epic tome to read. So far, I have been to Tudor England in the sublime The Mirror and the Light by Hilary Mantel. I was able to share the travel experience with my friend Jane who was reading the tale at the same time. Then I went to a destination that my mum had recommended: 1950s-1960s bohemian Australia in The Vivisector by Patrick White. It was definitely worth the visit. Most recently, I have just returned from India during the time of the British Raj in the historical novel, The Far Pavilions by M. M. Kaye, which incidentally is a text that should be consulted if ever one is considering invading Afghanistan. Lesson: Don’t!
Food is always an important part of any travelling that I do, and I have actually had more new local food experiences in lockdown than I have for years. Previously I tended to frequent some old faithful eateries. Since lockdown, my adventurous neighbours have appreciably extended my culinary encounters. As we are allowed to exercise with one other person and get takeaway food, my neighbours and I go out walking and foraging in local eateries: Babka Bakery (Easter European), Bowl Bowl (Sichuan Chinese), Saba’s Ethiopian Restaurant and a multifaceted array of other delicious restaurants and cafes that we probably wouldn’t have tried if we hadn’t been locked down.
I am extraordinarily fortunate to have a number of friends overseas, and thanks to a global pandemic most of us are at home with extra time on our hands. So, while I might have had less contact with local friends, I’ve actually had more with overseas friends thanks to the joys of modern technology: multi-country phone catchups; e-messages ranging from the hilarious (toilet roll earrings – the gift for 2020), to the touching (ducklings being saved by burley German police officers – perhaps that’s just me), to the sublime (Nessun Dorma sung by Italian school children). Technology allows us to travel to our dear ones in these new ways. (Qualification: I do understand that it is not necessarily an effective substitute for those who have close family and friends interstate and overseas who they can’t travel to see.)
I love attending a sporting event and have enjoyed travelling to some fun events in recent years. I don’t necessarily understand the rules, but that’s never interfered with my enjoyment as I just love the cheerful atmosphere. When my mum was very sick (pre-COVID days), my lovely friend Miranda invited me to a Melbourne City game and supplied me with coffee and donuts. It was the best therapy I could have wished for! Since COVID, the pickings have been slim and the performance regularly under par, except for the Tour de France. So bless the French, and Michael for organising a Zoom Tour experience.
The philosopher, John Armstrong, once observed that you can participate in the world of ideas wherever you are. He was not referring to social media (which seems to me to foster rigid, opinionated, shallow tripe which only gets worse when people are scared, frustrated and stuck at home). Thinking is an important form of travel for me. Thinking requires time and a want of the distraction and busyness that seem to accompany our usual modern world. I can’t imagine having had the time or headspace to think through the observations and ideas that I am now writing about before lockdown. You may be wishing that I didn’t have the time or headspace to write this now. If so, just stop reading. I won’t mind because I won’t know! J
Which brings me to my thoughts on my future travel destinations. I still very much want to cycle in Vietnam and Copenhagen, go to the World Cup, see my friends in Europe and the UK, and have a Singapore Sling with Tim and his gin in Singapore. However, my current priority destinations are my mum’s nursing home in East Melbourne, my Dad’s nursing home in Carlton, my sister’s home in Anglesea, and my uncle’s magical garden on Mt Macedon just outside Melbourne. Those are the hoped for pilgrimages that are now most dear to my heart.
In the meantime, I am currently researching a new bicycle and new cycling routes in preparation for at least being able to ride further than 5kms from home. Pete B is exploring cycle trails in the northern suburbs, and I am trying to work out a cycle route to Geelong that does not include the freeway. I will keep the cyclists amongst you posted. We will only have to dodge all the other Melbournian’s on the cycle trails enjoying the same sense of freedom and release as ourselves! J
Emma L