Nurture and Nature

I remember the first day I wore shorts last year, around September 15th at the opening of Floriade, Canberra’s big spring festival. The biggest flower show in the southern hemisphere no less! Well, whilst I am behind on last years’ shorts schedule a sure sign of spring was the return of Floriade in Commonwealth Park. Over one million bulbs set in the theme of Aussie icons, myths and legends. Whilst the relationship between the flowers and the theme was at best tenuous, it provided no less a cheerful few hours in the spring sunshine…

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From the neat and orderly swathes of flowers on Saturday to the wild untamed bush on Sunday, as I headed to the south of the capital territory to Namadgi National Park, where the hills rise into almost mountains, which stretch on into NSW and the Snowies. I drove through the tiny village of Tharwa, stopping at the visitors centre for a short walk around the small billabong there.

I then headed into the Naas valley, which was ever so slightly alpine, with lush green fields stretching in the distance as hills rose on either side. The drive was really nice, climbing to various points overlooking the valley.

The drive got even more interesting as I took a turning onto an unsealed road to Booroomba Rocks car park. Like most of the area around here, this place suffered during the big 2003 bushfires but, like everywhere else is very much recovering, although this doesn’t mean a big blackened branch won’t fall on you as you smell the flowers.



The walk was, well, quite steep…up plenty of steps, past giant boulders peppered with wattle and scurrying lizards and finally to the rocks, which are really just a series of cliffs, popular with rock climbers. It was a nice spot to munch on an apple and try to scramble to various look outs to take in the views, including Canberra which was very hazily in the distance.

The walk back down was as exciting as walking down hundreds of steps gets, and it was actually nice to get back to the car and eat some lunch. I negotiated the road back to civilisation and took the car for a much needed wash…seems this might have to be a regular occurrence. Coming next week…the coast.

Soccerball

When it comes to the Sydney v Melbourne debate, the jury’s still out for me. Sure, Melbourne doesn’t have the instantly striking glitz and glamour of Sydney but then maybe that’s part of its appeal. It’s a grower, a city which subtly casts its spell, in which the sound of trams, the smell of coffee and the sight of graffiti is just as satisfying as the egg shell of an opera house and coat hanger of a bridge looming large over your shoulder. I have no doubt arriving here from Canberra adds to its impact, the hustle and bustle a welcome respite from comfortable public-servantsville.

Sure, arriving on a Sunday morning is hardly rush-hour hustle and bustle yet still the buzz is there, arriving at the architecturally spectacular and amazingly functional Southern Cross station, catching the free city circle tram and checking out the Queen Victoria Markets where you’re just as likely to buy a box of oranges from a Chinese woman as you are a didgeridoo from an Aboriginal elder. I’m not a big markets person, but this was pretty fun… as usual I levitated to the food parts and enjoyed a rum slice with my first coffee of the day.

An hour or so later I took on my second coffee over at Fitzroy Gardens, the home of beautiful spring blooms and Captain Cook’s cottage. Can you believe this Captain Cook dude? I live in Captain Cook Crescent with a Captain Cook plant in the garden and often pass the Captain Cook memorial fountain, now here I was at a replica of his Yorkshire home complete with lard and Geoffrey Boycott. He couldn’t have spent much time in his home though, what with traveling the world, giving herpes to Tahitians, running aground on the barrier reef and being beheaded by some Hawaiian surfers. I don’t think he ever came within 500 miles of Melbourne (ah, a true Sydneysider through and through), so god only knows why his house from Yorkshire is here.

You know, given my recent exposure, I’m thinking of undertaking a Captain Cook travel adventure, where I pretend my name’s Danny Wallace or Tony Hawkes and recount a series of slightly amusingly unlikely anecdotes as I travel the land in hunt of Captain Cook memorials. There’s probably a Captain Cook banana in Queensland and a Captain Cook Commemorative Lobster over in WA, maybe even a Captain Cook Cookbook Cook off Facebook network.

As nice as Fitzroy Gardens was, I couldn’t dwell in British colonialism much longer and decided it was time to become a true Melbournian and go and watch some sport. It’s AFL finals time and so, perversely, I went to watch some good ol’ fashioned “soccer” where there wasn’t a wifebeater, mullet and pair of tight shorts in sight (OK, well, maybe in the crowd there was…). Melbourne Victory v the Central Coast Mariners, the Hyundai A-League game the world has been living on the edge for. To be honest, a big part of the appeal wasn’t the reasonably mediocre football action but a chance to take in the amazing Telstra Dome, another example of the bold, confident, exemplary standard of the sporting infrastructure over here…they even have slots in the coliseum like arena where you can buy your pie and watch the football at the same time for goodness sake! Genius.

The football action was as expected. From what I’ve seen of the A-league, there’s plenty of enthusiasm but nothing much happens for 75 minutes, when someone decides, oh, maybe we should try and actually put the ball in that white net thingey and it’s all hands to the pump for a frenetic 20 minutes. So whilst the highlight of the first half was the sunset over the apocalyptic Dockland cranes at half time, I really enjoyed the latter part of the second half, buoyed on by the endless singing of the passionate Victory supporters.

Whilst I may mock in my superior colonial ways, the growth of the A-league is nothing less than encouraging, led by Melbourne who have a regular fanbase of 20,000, many of whom are ridiculously young and trendy. Sure, the guys behind me were talking about some AFL bloke called Chris Judd (and his hot girlfriend) coming back to Melbourne for most of the time but with 27,000 in the Dome and the roof on, there was plenty of atmosphere going around… enough to give me that pre-kick off buzz and I even edged towards the edge of my seat in the last 10 minutes. Alas it remained 0-0 at full time but it was worth a twenty dollar note for the experience. Having said that, it would be awesome to go there for a full house AFL game between two Melbourne teams, awesome.

The rest of my stay in Melbourne was very much work related but I squeezed in a dinner out in Box Hill, a big Chinese and Asian area where seafood dumplings and Mongolian lamb was very much the order of the day. All this accompanied by some fine wine, chosen by someone who has 2000 bottles of the stuff in his cellar, so I learnt a little along the way. And then come Tuesday night I was out of there, back to Canberra, back to where else but Captain Cook Crescent.

Moving times

The car sure has come in handy as I have made the gradual transition from Barton to Narrabundah. Narrabundah is such an Australian sounding name, Aboriginal for something, probably like ‘place where two old men are meeting with the sticks of the bush lizard wallaroo.’ My address is ruined somewhat though by the street name…Captain Cook Crescent. Oh how bloody original. I remember when I first came to Canberra I was pleasantly surprised by the sight of sheer anarchy when someone had spray painted over the second O in “Cook” on the road sign to make it look like a C. That made me think, Canberra’s not so stale after all.

Last weekend was the main period of non-exciting moving action, probably one of the worst weekends of my life, filled with chucking stuff in boxes, lugging heavy goods to places in the middle of nowhere, scrubbing tiles with little effect and discovering eight bags of plain flour, all opened just slightly, dating as far back to 2005 in the store cupboard.

But now I am in Narrabundah, old Captain Cock Crescent, getting used to the slightly longer and possibly more tedious walk to work, finding my way round how to use the washing machine (yeah, powder went in the wrong slot), spilling bean bag balls on the floor and avoiding the bogans who sit on the porch up the street.

I’m probably painting a bad picture here, the house is really nice and spacious and I have so much room I don’t know what to do with it. It’s a nice bright sunny space with a big back yard, full of deadly spiders and snakes no doubt!

It’s not until you move somewhere that you find out there are things you really need which you simply don’t have. You know, really exciting things, like a clothes airer and a shoe rack. Oh yeah, life’s essentials truly. So my Friday night was spent late night shopping in the city and Saturday brought more trips to exciting places like Big W and Bunnings Warehouse, picking up bits and pieces to furnish my two rooms.

I got distracted somewhat in Bunnings, firstly by the sausage sizzle in the car park and then the plants outdoors. Given we have such a vast garden, I decided to buy a few green things to mingle in with the 40 dollar table and borrowed BBQ that I moved in there. I don’t know how they are going to go but, don’t panic, I will post regular updates on the fate of the tomatoes.

So here are my babies…

These are the tomatoes, yum!

Then I got more adventurous and planted some classic Aussie plants. The first is Ovens Wattle, which someday, just maybe, will bloom all gold and green like the ever so annoying Australian rugby team. The second is in honour of our house and is called a Callistemon Captain Cook. This one hopefully goes nice and red.



All this moving and shopping has made me feel like I haven’t had a weekend in a while. Thankfully, before I get sucked in by suburbia I am escaping for a few days to Melbourne tomorrow, so hopefully I will have some more hip and happening stories and pictures for you from the jewel of the south soon.

Wax on, wax off

I probably write this quite often, but it’s been a beautiful week in Canberra…all blue skies and flat whites in the sun. This has been offset somewhat by a bout of excessive domesticity as I prepare to move out of the apartment in Barton and to a more traditional Aussie style home in Narrabundah. Now the apartment in Barton is lovely, aided by the huge windows and doors lining the exterior. These are a nightmare to clean though and I’ve seen enough cobwebs and Windex to last me a lifetime.

Windows: shiny

I also managed to take the rubbish and recycling out on Friday evening only to leave my keys behind and no way back into the apartment. So there I was in my jeans and T-shirt on a chilly Canberra eve waiting to get a bus into town to meet Steve to get keys. In the end, we had some dinner and watched a movie (Bourne Ultimatum with Matt Damon) so it all turned out for the good. Other exciting news on the domestic front and I actually cooked a fair bit this week, using up bits and pieces in the cupboard to great effect, Tuesday’s Mediterranean vegetable and goats cheese tart being worthy of Gordon F*cking Ramsay himself. Done.

I also squeezed in some culture, shopping and the more traditional pursuit of wandering around one of Canberra’s hills. It was a friends open day at a art studio and gallery on Saturday so I popped along to show my support, then went up to Red Hill in the late afternoon. They should rename this place Mount Australia, from the roos to the cockatoos, the white gums, red dirt tracks, and ridiculously healthy joggers asking you “Howzitgan?” it is Australian cliches in one handy nature reserve.

I was trying to pick out my new home to be from the ridge, it’s down there somewhere:

So I’ve clearly been out and about a bit this weekend, and the really exciting news is that it has been petroleum propelled in my new car! I got a 2000 Mitsubishi Magna which in the relatively few kilometres I have done seems to handle really well, is very comfortable and has a bit of a kick. Supposed to be very reliable too so can’t wait to clock up lots more kilometres in it. On Sunday afternoon I took it up Mount Ainslie to see how it liked hills and it was of course the perfect place to pose for some shots!

As tempting as it was I didn’t go for the ute…just couldn’t bring myself to do it! The car will certainly help next week as I move properly down to Narrabundah. Some stuff has gone already, but I still have some essentials to pack, such as the Devon flag, the one remaining bag of Tesco crisps and crumbly fudge, which is now being rationed very tightly. It will be good to get settled again, happy in the knowledge that at least there will be less glass to clean in the future!