Aerohaveno: A Travel Blog

Written in Dublin

2012-01-25T15:09:00.000+11:00

As part of my trip to Ireland last year (hosted by Aer Lingus and Tourism Ireland), I investigated the famous literary heritage of Dublin.

Though it's not a huge city, over the centuries it's produced many towering figures in English literature, including the likes of James Joyce, Oscar Wilde, Samuel Beckett, George Bernard Shaw, Jonathan Swift and Bram Stoker.

But how do you engage with these geniuses in the 21st century city? I spoke to an expert to get the literary lowdown on Dublin. Catherine Duffy works for the city's City of Literature office; like Melbourne, Dublin is a recognised UNESCO City of Literature.

Tim: How important to the city is its literary identity?

Catherine: I think it’s of great importance, it’s a huge sense of pride and identity. Everyone would know the main writers, both the contemporary and classical writers. They would know some of their major works and what parts of the city they’re from. So it’s strong, writers and artists in general are looked up to in Dublin. It’s a cool thing to be.

Even children, they love meeting writers and they think it’s really trendy. A lot of them say "I want to be a writer". So, there is a sense of pride in it, and we do identify with it. I think because we know what we’re good at. Horse racing and writing are two things that we know we’re good at.

Tim: There's that picture of the literary type at the cafe and the pub, a kind of sexy image from the past - Oscar Wilde with his absinthe.

Catherine: Although many would believe that the classic Dublin writers weren’t very la-de-dah or nerdy, they were hellraisers really. They did things that would provoke society and they were trendmakers, they did quirky things. Oscar Wilde was in prison. WB Yeats, some of the things he wrote about angered and provoked society. Another writer was Brendan Behan, an alcoholic but a very colourful man.

They were all very different, and unique personalities and characters. They were bookish but they also had strong character traits that were kind of reckless, and probably self destroying in a way. They didn’t really care what effect it would have on their reputation. All they cared about was producing good work and producing what they wanted to produce.

Tim: What are the top literary highlights of the city for visitors?

Catherine: There are two bike companies that run tours of the city and they have a strong background on literary Dublin and they will tell you the tales. They’ll go to the different statues and the different birthplaces of the writers and they will tell you about them, they’re quite knowledgeable on it.

You’ve also got the Literary Pub Crawl. You don’t really drink on it, but a lot of the writers congregated there and exchanged their work, and so a literary pub crawl tells you about the writers that frequented them. It’s actors who do it, so it’s quite entertaining. It’s a good evening.

Another experience, especially if you’re interested in the old oral tradition, is an evening in the oldest pub in Dublin. It’s this guy, Johnny Daly, he’s an historian, and he tells you about the folklore and the fairies of literary Dublin.

Another thing which is quite quirky is Archbishop Marsh’s Library. It was the first public library in Ireland, it opened in 1701. The keeper there can bring you round and show it to you, the books are chained to the wall.

Another thing to go to is the Chester Beatty Library which is right beside Dublin Castle. It’s quite beautiful and it has a lot of Islamic manuscripts. And of course there's our National Library.

Tim: What’s your personal favourite?

Catherine: Probably the Book of Kells and the Long Room at Trinity College, but that’s because every time I walk into there I gasp. That’s not an exaggeration. It’s such a thing that you’d really miss out if you didn’t walk through there. It’s stunning. It shocks me, actually. It’s amazing.

This post was sponsored by Octopus.com. Check out its site for deals on Dublin hotels.

Wild Art of the Derwent

2012-01-20T15:22:00.001+11:00

I've just had a pleasant short visit to Hobart, the capital of Tasmania, and the four days I spent there were dominated by thoughts of MONA.

I refer, of course, to the Museum of Old and New Art, which has rapidly become the city's number one tourist attraction since its opening a year ago.

I was partly in Hobart to catch a few acts in the annual MONA FOMA arts festival (and the new opera The Barbarians and the Dresden Dolls concert were both fantastic); but also, to see what had changed at MONA since my first visit last year.

For those who came in late - MONA was founded by the eccentric art collector David Walsh, who made his millions via a professional gambling system he developed. It apparently gives him an edge, which ends up funding purchases of fascinating art.

The gambling dens' losses are Hobart's gain, as Walsh has thrown open his art collection to the masses, via the enormous purpose-built art museum dug into a promontory on the Derwent River.

It's a beautiful location, still the home of a winery and with million dollar views over the water. The best way to get there is via ferry from the city centre; the voyage gets you in the right mood for appreciating art.

Much has been written about the long-term exhibits which launched MONA last year. Most are still there - the bizarre loo with strategically placed mirrors, the timed waterfall which forms words taken from the Web, the all-white library with blank books and pages, the machine which mimics the human digestive system.

What's new is an exhibition of the works of Belgian artist Wim Delvoye, who signs his name in cheeky mimicry of the Disneyland logo.

There's some fascinating stuff here: old rubber tyres painstakingly etched with delicate art; figures of Christ twisted into Möbius-like loops; a lofty steel suppository with Gothic decorative elements; X-ray images of rats bearing a crucifix; a full-size carry case for a motorcycle, with motorbike within.

It sounds potentially offensive, at least to some; but that's not the vibe I was picking up from my fellow visitors. People were interested, fascinated, bemused, chatty, laughing... basically, being stimulated by the art.

We seem to have come a long way since the days when contemporary art was routinely attacked by the tabloid media as representing the impending collapse of civilisation; and isn't that a relief?

The Wim Delvoye exhibition continues to April 2012 at MONA, 655 Main Road, Berriedale, Hobart; adult entry $20 (free to Tasmanians). MONA FOMA continues to 22 January 2012. More at www.mona.net.au.

Tacos of the North

2012-01-14T22:50:00.001+11:00

Two months ago I wrote about the Beatbox Kitchen, one of the new breed of food vans which cruise around Melbourne's inner northern suburbs.

Every day these vans, which each prepare a simple selection of a particular type of food, notify their fans of their current location via Twitter.

Last time I enjoyed an excellent burger produced by Beatbox Kitchen; this time, I was investigating the Taco Truck.

I found this colourful food van set up next to a stretch of green parkland in Carlton North, part of a linear park which follows the path of the former Inner Circle railway (which I wrote about last month):

There was plenty of colour around the back as well:

Because there was a fair stretch of grass in this location, a lot of people had set up as if for a picnic:

It may have been because of the common miscalculation by which businesses assume that it's never busy around the Xmas/New Year period (and are then surprised when it is), but as I ordered I was warned it'd be a 35 minute wait.

In the meantime I drank a Mexican soft drink, a Jarritos Lime Limón ($4). The bottle's labelling described it as "naturally flavoured soda", but it was also a lurid green and tasted a lot like a jellybean of the same colour:

Sipping my jellybean drink, I sat on the grass and chatted to fellow would-be diners for half an hour, then drifted back to the truck to wait for the call... and wait. In the end, it was a full hour between ordering and receiving.

It was, however, worth the delay. Here's the Taco Plate ($12), a selection of two tacos served with a pile of home-made corn chips. There was a choice of fish, chicken or potato tacos - I chose the fish taco (which came with coleslaw, lime juice and poppy mayonnaise), and the chicken taco (with corn salsa, baby spinach and chipotle mayonnaise).

On the advice of the staff in the van, I sprinkled the fish taco with the green sauce on offer (hot), the chicken with the brown sauce (hottest) and the corn chips with the red sauce (somewhere between the two).

To accompany it I'd ordered a serve of guacamole ($5). This came with more of the corn chips, delightfully thick and randomly curved:

The verdict? It was all very tasty food, spicy and clearly prepared from fresh ingredients. It was a great meal overall in a pleasant location; and worth the wait.

You can find the Taco Truck's latest location at http://twitter.com/tacotruckmelb.

Aboard the Santa Train 2: Watson to Perth

2012-01-10T17:51:00.001+11:00

Last week I shared the first half of my recent trip across the continent aboard the Indian Pacific train. Here are some pics from the second half of the journey...

1. Watson (08:00, 9 Dec 2011)

We pulled into this non-location, an arbitrary stopping place named after Australia's third prime minister, to find dozens of people waiting for us.

Although there's nothing at Watson other than a bit of scrub and a lone tree which is annually decked with tinsel for the train's arrival, the audience had driven in from hundreds of kilometres away, some camping overnight.

Among them were many Aboriginal people including young students, and as our resident singer Jessica Mauboy is part Aboriginal herself this was always going to be an interesting meeting.

As you can see from the photo, the pop star and her backers performed unplugged under the desert sky (spot the local person recording the scene with an iPad in the lower right - those devices get everywhere):

Here's a few of the audience and a dog, all making the best use of an old lounge chair (which Santa used later for distributing presents to the kids):

2. Cook (10:00, 9 Dec 2011)

Cook was once a town with a decent-sized population, which lived to serve the railway running through it. Nowadays the population has dwindled to just four people, one of whom runs the souvenir shop which opens when the Indian Pacific arrives to refill with water.

An American tourist kindly took this shot of me in front of the sign marking the completion of the transcontinental railway in 1917:

3. Rawlinna (16:45, 9 Dec 2011)

For the rest of the day we had views of the featureless Nullarbor Plain, an amazingly flat and treeless expanse. The train drivers might also have had a bout of white line fever (or steel rail fever) as they drove the train along the longest dead straight stretch of rail in the world - all 480km of it.

Finally we crossed the border into Western Australia and arrived at Rawlinna, another virtual ghost town which once serviced the railway. Although the station building was closed, its caretakers had remarkably managed to keep a patch of lawn growing between the building and the rails.

It was facing this lawn that Jess Mauboy performed to a small audience of stockmen in impressive hats, assisted by the Man in Red:

4. Kalgoorlie (20:30, 9 Dec 2011)

In the evening we reached the gold mining city to encounter the largest crowd yet for the singer's concerts, spread out in front of the station and across the footbridges leading over it.

One of my colleagues and I slipped away into the centre of town for a drink at one of the outback city's famous old pubs, and ended up at the Exchange Hotel.

It was a warm, humid night... in fact it was so warm, the barmaids kept taking off clothing. By the time we slipped away back to the station at 10pm, things were getting quite scanty.

5. Perth (09:00, 10 Dec 2011)

Finally, after a night's sleep, our three day journey came to an end as we pulled into East Perth Terminal. One more concert to catch, then it was a quick hop over the lines to the suburban train, and a finally short train journey into the city centre itself.

It had been a great journey, with fine singing, gift giving, cityscapes, fascinating desert and men in big hats. I'd recommend it to anyone.

Disclosure time... on this trip I travelled courtesy of Great Southern Rail.

Aboard the Santa Train 1: Sydney to Adelaide

2012-01-03T15:02:00.001+11:00

Happy New Year!

Those of you with decent memories may remember me taking the Indian Pacific train from Sydney to Perth two years (and about 100 blog posts) ago.

As you may recall, each year the train's operator Great Southern Rail lays on a special Outback Christmas train carrying a pop singer and Santa Claus.

Concerts are staged along the way, raising money for the Royal Flying Doctor Service.

The 2011 call came and I was invited aboard, this time in the company of the talented singer Jessica Mauboy (though I admit I had to look up who she was - my fault, not hers).

As I wrote a lot about the journey last time, this time I thought I'd share images from stops along the way, adding some comments.

1. Sydney (15:00, 7 Dec 2011)

The Indian Pacific is so long that it can't fit a single platform at Sydney's Central Station; it's split over two, then shunted together once everyone's aboard.

A few fast facts about our edition of the train:

From Sydney to Perth, it would cover 4,352 kilometres;
It contained 27 carriages;
The entire train was a vast 639 metres long.

2. Near Bathurst (20:20, 7 Dec 2011)

As we were having dinner, the sun obligingly set in memorable fashion on my side of the restaurant carriage. It's not easy to take photos through glass, but this came out quite well:

3. Bathurst (20:40, 7 Dec 2011)

We were an hour late into Bathurst, so these kids had been putting in extra time entertaining the crowd gathered at the station for the free concert. A few speeches quickly delivered, then Jessica Mauboy hit the stage with her backing vocalist and two guitarists.

The pattern was the same for each concert - Ms Mauboy would sing a few of her own songs, then the kids would join her in Mariah Carey's All I Want for Christmas is You. In this case, with choreographed hand movements.

4. Near Broken Hill (08:30, 8 Dec 2011)

I snapped this shot of the empty Queen Adelaide restaurant carriage just before breakfast. Elegant, isn't it?

Meals were a highlight of the journey; with an interesting gang of media from across the world aboard the train, it was good to mix up the seating regularly to meet someone new.

We were supposed to stop at Broken Hill before breakfast, for another concert and a coach tour around town. Unfortunately, track works on this section of the journey had so slowed the train that we were now running very late and Silver City had to be skipped to catch up time.

However, I later heard that Jess Mauboy had made a point of getting out briefly at the station to say hello to a few fans who'd hung on in the hope of meeting her. Whatta gal.

5. Adelaide (17:30, 8 Dec 2011)

We pulled into Adelaide over two hours late, so there was little chance of travelling into the nearby city centre. The train was due to pull out again in an hour, hoping to get its schedule back on (ahem) track.

So I hung around the GSR facility at Adelaide Parklands Station to see the next concert. Despite the delay, there was a crowd of 100 or so to see the singer, and to listen to a moving story about how the Royal Flying Doctor Service flew a young man to Melbourne for an organ transplant.

6. Nearing the Great Victoria Desert, South Australia (06:30, 9 Dec 2011)

So far on the journey we'd passed through a variety of landscapes, both urban and bush. Now, back on schedule, we were entering the most fascinating landscape of the journey - desert, including the stark Nullarbor Plain.

This early morning snap from the train (note the Xmas decoration) is still mostly green, but the low scrub and red earth are a hint of what's soon to come...

Join me next week for song and tears on a treeless plain, lively downtown Cook (population 4), studiously cool stockmen, seriously underdressed barmaids, and a shining new ocean.

Disclosure time... on this trip I travelled courtesy of Great Southern Rail.

Rail Trails of Melbourne

2011-12-01T16:34:00.001+11:00

In the suburbs of Melbourne, Australia, the ghosts of steam trains pull their carriages along rails long-vanished.

But not entirely forgotten. Along the route of old suburban train lines lie fascinating walking trails and linear parks, each an insight into the city’s hidden charms.

Inner Circle

The most accessible is the rail trail along the former Inner Circle line, which runs from Rushall Station in North Fitzroy to Royal Park.

Originally this took suburban trains directly to Spencer Street in the city centre. Later, the station were closed and goods trains chugged along it.

Finally, the rails were removed and the reserve threatened with development. After an epic battle involving locals, unions and government, the route became a linear park, a long thin thread of green meandering across tram tracks and behind terrace houses.

It makes a charming walk. At Rushall Station, you can hear the gentle murmur of Merri Creek below. Then the trail curves through the patterned brick homes of North Fitzroy, built in the late 19th century.

Follow the track west and cross tram line after tram line as they head north out of the city. It’s fascinating to be walking along a walking trail which is so urban; light industry vies with Victorian homes and modern buildings, just a few metres from the former track.

The queen of the route is the former North Carlton railway station, now the home of a community centre. Though lacking a railway, the building is recognisably a former station, with its distinctive red brick structure. Then it’s on to Melbourne Zoo, passing beneath old railway bridges as you head west.

Outer Circle

The Outer Circle rail trail in the middle suburbs is a more challenging walk. Developed in the 1890s by land speculators, the railway line closed down almost as soon as it opened.

Reopened as a mix of passenger and goods lines, it was gradually removed during the 20th century.

It originally ran all the way from Fairfield Station to Hughesdale Station. All that remains now is the section known as the Alamein line, but the railway reserve is still accessible for most of the route.

The best section to walk or cycle is from Kew to East Malvern. Staring from the corner of High Street and Harp Road, look for the woodpile that’s been there since Victorian times.

Behind it you’ll find the trail, a surprisingly broad expanse of parkland running between houses, with signs marking the original locations of stations. It’s hard to imagine steam trains running through this green space.

Not so the section beyond Whitehorse Road. Here the trail runs through a narrow cutting, often deep below street level and crossed by a series of iron road bridges. It’s cold in the shade but quite beautiful, with ferns and vines growing down the cutting’s face. You half expect to have to dive out of the way of a train coming round the bend.

Once past East Camberwell, the trail follows the Alamein line; you can always cheat at this point by catching a train.

If you do, keep an eye out for Hartwell Station, which was once the railway station for the country town of Walhalla. It was relocated here in 1938 as the former gold mining town subsided into a ghost town.

Another station on the Alamein line, Willison, was opened in 1908 as Golf Links Station, serving the nearby Riversdale Golf Club. The club eventually moved away and the station was renamed in 1936.

Then the trail continues onward from Alamein station, crossing Gardiners Creek. It’s important to go straight on here; a left turn will have you walking across the golfing greens of the Malvern Valley Public Golf Course, interrupting shots. A walkbridge crosses a freeway and lowers the walker gently into East Malvern Station.

From here, a real train will take you back to the city - and the all too solid 21st century world.

This post was sponsored by GolfNow.com. Check out its site for golfing news and resources from around the world, including a golf course directory.

[With this 50th post for the year, Aerohaveno is taking a break until mid-January 2012. See you then... and happy travels in the meantime!]

Street Art à la Cockatoo

2011-11-24T10:41:00.001+11:00

This week's guest post is from Julia Hilton, who recently visited the Outpost exhibition of street art in Sydney...

This inaugural exhibition of street art was being held on Cockatoo Island in Sydney Harbour; an easy journey by ferry from Circular Quay for a $10.20 return ticket that included free entry.

Cockatoo Island had been used by the military since 1839. It was built by convicts as a prison and then developed into naval shipyards, which it remained until 1992. Surprisingly the government didn't sell it to developers, leading to its new life as an entertainment and exhibition centre.

As I entered via a very '40s government office archway the island revealed itself, shaped rather like a top hat. The sheer side cliffs at the centre of the island led the eye to a number of pleasant houses on its top, while the brim constituted the main dock and grassed areas.

I was immediately drawn to walls bearing massive paintings of Australian wildlife; murals made of cyclone fencing and coloured plastic cups; a bus in progress of being graffitied by two young men with spray cans; and large groups of children and adults getting down to a session of pavement decorating with chalks provided.

Walking on towards the dockside workshops, I passed a mythic temple-cum-teepee and a sinister hot air balloon whose evil face seemed to watch my progress. Each of the workshops housed a different type of art show, including work from projects such as the Project Ugly and May Lane Project, which aim to direct talented spray can artists to creating art experiences in urban environments.

It might seem paradoxical that you could host a street art exhibition off the street; but the cluster of sheds, workshops, warehouses, open spaces and even a couple of caves proved ideal for the purpose and concentrated the experience of these art forms.

My favourite part of the exhibition was the huge painted mural of Australian animals by a Belgian artist called ROA. They all seemed dead and this made for an uneasy reminder of how fragile our wildlife is. This painting was executed in black and white paint, stark and beautiful.

Then it was on to the Banksy exhibit in a double storey workshop which was once the machine-making shop. For those who have never seen a Banksy stencil art work - you actually probably have, down an alley or on a wall where you've come across an outline of a rat with a crown, or a policemen giving flowers to a child. This highly secretive UK street artist has become very collectable. There were 20 prints made from stencils by him, a great selection.

Some of the larger projects included a house painted with a lifelike skull on its front by Kid Zoom (an Oz artist working in New York) with three wrecked cars outside. Inside the back of the house you could watch an audio visual presentation of the wrecking procedure by the artist.

Nothing in the exhibition was without message and attitude. These could be very confronting and often quite obtuse; but street art is not for silent contemplation, it’s in your face and you can’t help but share it with those around you. I found myself discussing some of the works with complete strangers and feeling more connected to the works as a result.

There was so much to see that after three hours, visual indigestion and sore feet set in. So I made my way to an open-air bar and sat watching the chalk artists in action with a cold beer in my hand. Heaven!

The Outpost exhibition continues to 11 December 2011; more details at www.outpostproject.com.au. Julia Hilton recommends the Doc Rat comic strip by Jenner for your daily entertainment: www.docrat.com.au.

Burgers of the North

2011-11-11T09:11:00.001+11:00

Ever since The Age ran a piece on the new wave of pop-up food vans in Melbourne, I've been meaning to check one out.

This is how it works. Each day the van's operators tweet its planned location that night. It might be placed next to a park or on a main street, but either way it'll be in an inner-city location near public transport.

For some reason the two I'm following, Beatbox Kitchen and Taco Truck, seem to hug the inner north rather than crossing the Yarra River. Presumably the grungy streetscapes of Brunswick are a better fit than the delicate facades of Albert Park, and I suspect the local councils in the north are more relaxed about permits for that reason.

Yesterday afternoon the call came, or in fact the tweet: "@beatboxkitchen: Dinner outside mr wilkinson, lygon st east Brunswick from 6pm". A little cryptic, but it turned out Mr Wilkinson was a bar at 295 Lygon St, East Brunswick.

I was slightly puzzled by this location - it was on a tram route, so easy to get to. However, I knew the footpaths there were average width and lined by shop fronts. Where would people eat, exactly?

The answer turned out to be quite clever. When I got to the burger truck's serving window, I saw this:

As people ordered, they were asked "Are you eating in the bar?" The van had formed a friendly arrangement with Mr Wilkinson - burger buyers could sit in the bar if they liked; and naturally, they tended to buy a drink while there.

This was the same methodology I followed. After placing my order, I went in and bought a schooner of Kirin ($5), then took it outside and used it to save a spot at the bar's narrow streetside stools while I waited for my burger. The resulting combination of beer and food looked like this:

My verdict? Very tasty. It was a simple burger ($11) but better quality than you might expect from a roadside van, with cos lettuce, a spicy meat pattie, crunchy onion, tomato and cheese. And the bread roll was soft, but not sweet and unyielding like a mass-produced hamburger bun - it had some welcome density.

The fries ($5) went cold too quickly, but that's always the danger with fries rather than thicker chips. The spicy mayo that came with them was good.

As for the atmosphere, it was a great vibe on a balmy spring evening, with people spread between the van and the bar and in a burger-induced good mood.

My next assignment - if I choose to accept it - is to track down the Taco Truck.

You can find Beatbox Kitchen's latest location at http://twitter.com/beatboxkitchen.

Melbourne Art Deco

2011-11-04T16:23:00.000+11:00

This week's guest blogger is fantasy novelist Narrelle M Harris, author of the acclaimed vampire novel The Opposite of Life and the Melbourne Literary app for the iPhone and iPad.

It was all in the detail.

There’s something about Art Deco design which never ceases to delight me. Maybe it’s the combination of geometry and colour. Maybe it’s the frescoes in which 20th century technology looks decorative and classical. Maybe it’s just the way I associate Deco with PG Wodehouse and his Jeeves and Wooster books.

Whatever the reason, the Melbourne Art Deco Architecture Tour provided the requisite delight as I walked around the city under the guidance of guide Robin Grow. Some of Melbourne’s Deco architecture was already known to me, but Grow revealed a few secrets as well (the secret, guys, is to look up!)

The Manchester Unity Building was the logical start for our walk. Although I’m very familiar with the elegant sweep of this 1932 building, I hadn’t really stopped to look within its interior. How had I not seen the picture of the grieving woman near the Collins Street entrance? The curve of her back, the image of Death in the corner. The art is blocky but eloquent:

Further along I noticed the lovely stained glass highlights under the walkway to the Capitol Theatre for the first time:

Then, after spotting the little K on the former Kodak House, I got a better look at the mosaic on Newspaper House. I’ve always seen it from the other side of the road, but up close, I could see the dates and strange little designs on the insets of the windows:

It’s strange to think you know a city well, only to discover you really haven’t been looking at it properly. The Aztec influence in Harry Norris’s floor design for Block Court was obvious once it was pointed out to me. Howey House’s musicians were a surprise, as were the fish forming what I thought was a floral design on the Majorca Building:

I hadn’t expected the strange combination of images at the top of the Theosophical Building on Collins Street. The design is a combination of the six pointed star, a cross that looks a bit like an ankh, a swastika (the peaceful Indian one, not the reversed Nazi one) and the ouroboros (the snake eating its own tail):

My favourite surprise, though, was the Egyptian motif on a building on Bourke Street. The winged sun and lotus columns reminded me of the time I lived in Egypt. The Egyptian craze in design that followed the discovery of Tutankhamun’s tomb reached even our far shores and this elegant decoration represented a bridge between Melbourne’s history and my own:

Robin Grow knows a lot about the architectural history of Melbourne, helping you see the parts of the city you never noticed before; but it was the tour's interaction with my personal history that added detail to the experience.

The MELTours Melbourne Art Deco Architecture Tour takes place on the second Sunday of each month. Cost $49. Bookings via +61 407 380969 or meltours.com.au.

Narrelle M Harris was a guest of MELTours. You can find details of Narrelle's vampire novel The Opposite of Life at her website, along with details of her Melbourne Literary app and other published work.

Christchurch: A City on the Mend

2011-10-30T12:03:00.000+11:00

I've spent the past week in New Zealand, and my first stop was Christchurch as part of a group of journalists invited by Tourism New Zealand.

It's been a mere eight months since the major earthquake which devastated its historic city centre, so I was interested to see what the situation was like now, especially for travellers who might like to visit.

There was little visible evidence of quake damage on the way from the airport through the Christchurch suburbs, but as we reached the centre we started to notice buildings which had bracing applied to their exteriors to stabilise them, awaiting repair.

Here's an example, a building in the Arts Centre which was once part of a university campus (you can see one of its spires sitting on the ground on the right):

Further on, we reached the edge of the 'Red Zone' to which entry is not possible, dotted with buildings awaiting demolition. Here the vista was more startling, with half-collapsed shops in the foreground and the ominous leaning tower of the former Hotel Grand Chancellor at the rear:

However, among the wreckage there are already green buds of hope and renewal. Just after we left Christchurch, a section of shopping mall was reopened in an ingenious set of shipping containers re-engineered as temporary shops. And over the coming months the Red Zone will steadily shrink, to be replaced by a proposed new city centre with a pedestrian-friendly layout and better integration of the Avon River.

Speaking of which, just a short walk from the Red Zone, the famous punting on the river continues to be a popular attraction. We joined a boat, and passed the happy punters you can see below:

Our next stop was the Banks Peninsula, an oval-shaped promontory which juts into the Pacific from the eastern coast of the South Island. On the way we stopped at She Chocolat, a chocolate-making business with a restaurant in a beautiful setting overlooking Governors Bay. Its timber premises had stood up remarkably well to the force of the quake. Here's a (tasty) selection of their output:

The Banks Peninsula is a collection of ancient volcanic craters, smoothed by the passage of time and with some very attractive scenery. Here I am at a popular lookout point:

In the centre of the peninsula, on a long harbour which stretches in from the Pacific, is the town of Akaroa. A beautiful holiday village, it was founded by French settlers in 1840, at almost the same moment that New Zealand was claimed by the British. They stayed on under British rule, and you can still see some French elements about the town:

The next day we headed into the harbour on a dolphin-spotting cruise. As we located them outside the harbour mouth in rougher seas, it was a somewhat queasy experience for me. But hey, the diminutive and rare Hector's Dolphins were cool:

Finally, we climed the hills behind the town to visit the 19th century Giant's House, originally a grand residence for the first bank manager in Akaroa. Over the past few decades its gardens have been transformed by a local artist into a riot of colourful statues with a mosaic finish. It's an amazing place, popular for weekend visits and B&B stays:

Overall it was an interesting few days in and around the quake-rocked city. As the aftershocks have subsided, the city is tackling the damage with great heart; and with less affected places such as Akaroa within reach, Christchurch does seem like a place that travellers can now visit and thus contribute to its return to normality.

Disclosure time... on this trip I travelled courtesy of Tourism New Zealand.

The Alphabet Dinners: I is for I Carusi

2011-10-21T11:50:00.001+11:00

In The Alphabet Dinners series, I review the cheap restaurants of Melbourne... In alphabetical order.

It's been a while since I reviewed a cheap Melbourne restaurant taken from the Age Cheap Eats guide. That's partly because I was up to the letter I, and there weren't many choices.

Last night, however, I was on my way to sample the wares of the Taco Truck which pops up around suburban Melbourne - yesterday it was parked in North Carlton. But as I boarded the number 1 tram, the rain started falling, and I stayed on past my intended stop to find myself at I Carusi in East Brunswick.

According to the guide, this place has been doing pizzas with "all class but no frills" for over a decade. That said, I'm not surprised I haven't come across it before - its located within an old shopfront on Holmes St, just after the tram does a quick dogleg from the top end of Lygon St. It's a quiet stretch at night, and the lit-up restaurant stood out like a beacon on an overcast evening.

It looked like there were no free tables and I'd be out of luck, but then I was summoned through to the back room, to a little table by the rear door. Not a bad spot really, and the back room was buzzing with a big group at one long table and some smaller groups at others.

It was a pretty simple menu - a long list of pizzas in big and small sizes, with salads and desserts on a blackboard.

First to arrive was my glass of Cavallino Syrah Sicilia, the house red, served in a straightforward glass:

Next, the pizza arrived, breathtakingly quickly given how busy the restaurant was. The menu was replete with arty pizza variants including ones involving broccoli and gorgonzola, but I went for a classic - a small capricciosa with tomato, fiore di latte cheese, ham, mushrooms, olives and anchovies.

It was excellent, a beautiful balance of flavours and textures - a light crisp base, flavoursome tomato, fresh tasty toppings. Apologies for the blurry photo by the way, I'm still getting the hang of the camera on the new iPhone and didn't want to bother fellow diners by using the flash too much:

Alongside the pizza was this salad, with fiore di latte, basil and tomato. Excellent, though it did mean a very cheesy meal (my fault):

All up, the service was friendly and efficient, and the food was excellent. In fact I couldn't help thinking how much better the experience was compared to that at my 'B' restaurant Bande à Part, which isn't far away geographically and offers similar food.

The Bill: $29.50
The Restaurant: 46a Holmes St, East Brunswick; Ph: 03 9386 5522

Melbourne's Angels & Demons

2011-10-20T13:39:00.001+11:00

We're in the last week of the Melbourne Festival, the city's annual big-budget celebration of the arts. Coming hot on the heels of the Melbourne Fringe Festival, it showcases impressive and challenging productions from around the world, as well as locally produced shows of distinction.

Beyond the usual formal venues, the festival usually has one or two outdoor fixtures which grab the populace's attention for the run of the event. This year the standout example is Angels-Demons Parade from Russia. This consists of several bizarre and enormous glossy black statues, which appear to represent babies with the wings and tails of reptilian demons.

Though they may look like diabolical half-breeds, the angel-demon babies appear to be innocents, with playful expressions and postures. They're disturbingly interesting, prompting me to reflect that what we assume to be good or evil, may simply be "other".

I took these photos at night, walking southward from the Melbourne Town Hall, stopping at City Square, St Paul's Cathedral and Federation Square, ending at the Arts Centre where three of the creatures are in residence.

Another less-publicised outdoor event of the festival is Cacophony: The Art of Conflict. It consists of a series of images projected across the external walls of the main Arts Centre building and Hamer Hall (the concert hall), viewed from the square between them.

The 12-minute performance is a lot of fun - the buildings come to life, interacting with each other via music and imagery. My favourite bit is when they carry out a little war, flinging virtual paint bombs at each other. The curved concrete surface of Hamer Hall even dons armour plating before rolling out its cannons...

Angels-Demons Parade and Cacophony: The Art of Conflict continue to Saturday 22 October. See the Melbourne Festival website for more details.

The Unpublished 11: St Kilda by the Bay

2011-10-10T14:32:00.000+11:00

I just stumbled across a trial guidebook entry about the Melbourne suburb of St Kilda, which I wrote in 2005.

It was created as part of my application to be included in Lonely Planet's pool of authors; ultimately successful therefore, but never published.

Here it is now, an overview of the bayside locality's charms...

From the moment an 1841 party of picnickers named St Kilda after their offshore yacht, the Melbourne bayside suburb has been a place devoted to fun. Loved for its entertainment and damned for its vice, it’s never ceased attracting pleasure-seekers.

Despite recent gentrification, St Kilda’s edgier side survives, resulting in bohemian types rubbing shoulders with suited professionals, prostitutes, new-agers, teenagers, tourists and ultra-permed old ladies wedded to Acland St’s famous cake shops.

Its seaside resort history lives on via its entertainment options and classic structures like Luna Park, the St Kilda Sea Baths, and St Kilda Pier, as well as sandy St Kilda Beach with its trademark backdrop of palm trees.

Before that fateful picnic, St Kilda was the home of an indigenous coastal tribe known as the Yalukit-willam, one of the five clans of the Bunurong. They roamed the area between St Kilda and Port Melbourne, and knew the St Kilda area as “Euro-Yroke”, their name for the red-brown sandstone found along the beach.

It wasn’t long, of course, before the bay views attracted another kind of “Euro” altogether: newly-arrived settlers from Britain and beyond. They created a fashionable suburb which quickly acquired mansions, churches, a synagogue, sea baths and posh hotels.

With the advent of the tramways in the 1880s, St Kilda took another dramatic shift. With thousands of everyday people having access to its attractions, it became a bustling seaside town, and the rich folk fled to the greener pastures of South Yarra and Toorak.

They may have tut-tutted at the perceived lowering of tone, but it’s true that St Kilda had its seedier side. The early 20th century saw the building of great entertainment venues like Luna Park, the Palais Theatre and the St Moritz ice-skating rink, but also witnessed a boom in brothels and street prostitution. St Kilda was one of the first Melbourne suburbs to have an apartment boom, with many flats constructed in the 1930s.

World War II brought an invasion of American military personnel in search of a good time, an era captured in local painter Albert Tucker’s moody modernist paintings of soldiers and local girls on a big night out.

After the war, an influx of European migrants added a distinctive flavour to St Kilda’s population and cuisine, the spectacular cake shops of Acland St their most visually appealing legacy.

In the 1960s and '70s, there was growing concern about St Kilda’s illicit massage parlours, drug trafficking and street kids. However, from the 1980s a wave of gentrification began to sweep the area, as house-hunters began to appreciate anew the suburb’s unique bohemian atmosphere and natural advantages.

Luckily, gentrification and increasingly expensive property hasn’t extinguished St Kilda’s raffish charms, and visitors from Melbourne and beyond still flock to its entertainments and attractions year-round.

Sights

Luna Park
Lower Esplanade

This venerable amusement park is the symbol of St Kilda as holiday playground, and was based on the funfairs of the USA’s Coney Island. Though Luna Park is showing its age in places, it still fulfils its function of amusing kids and adults via its various rides. A highlight is the Scenic Railway rollercoaster, the oldest still operating in the world, with impressive views of the bay (if you can concentrate on the horizon while you’re going up and down!).

St Kilda Pier
Pier Rd

A landmark since 1853, St Kilda Pier stretches into the waters of Port Phillip Bay. At the end was a distinctive century-old kiosk which burned down in 2003, but was rebuilt from the original blueprint. Take a walk along the pier to get a waterside view of the city, and the old port of Williamstown through the forest of nearby yacht masts. From November to April, a daily ferry runs from here to Williamstown and return.

St Kilda Sea Baths
10 Jacka Blvd

Before enclosed public swimming pools existed, the St Kilda Sea Baths were all the rage. After the imposing Moorish structure became run down, it was redeveloped (controversially) as a heath and dining centre. Now it houses a salt water pool, along with a steam room and spa pool.

Catani Gardens
Beaconsfield Pde

Palm trees were a symbol of the exotic to 19th century folk, and the Catani Gardens are home to dozens of them, lining the gravel paths which lead to a gazebo with an onion-shaped cupola. There's a barbecue and playground at the northern end. On any afternoon you might see people picnicking on the lawns, walking their dogs, or practising their juggling or drumming skills. The park's proximity to busy Fitzroy Street means you can always slip away for a beer once the sunset's been and gone.

The Unpublished is a random series comprising my never-published travel articles. For previous instalments, click on the The Unpublished Topic tag below, then scroll down.

Into the Hills on Puffing Billy

2011-10-04T13:30:00.000+11:00

In all my travel writing about Melbourne and its environs, I've rarely written about the iconic Puffing Billy steam train (except for entries in my two iPhone/iPad apps, Melbourne Historical and Melbourne Getaways).

In fact I'd only ever been on the train once, and that was in the dining car for a limited distance. So it was time to enjoy the trip the way the average punter does - in one of the open-sided carriages that are pulled by steam power through the attractive greenery of the Dandenong Ranges east of Melbourne.

It was pretty chilly when we arrived at the narrow-gauge station at Belgrave, with the cool air highlighting the smoke and vapour from the steam engine:

Here's a shot of me in the engine:

And here's the gent who was actually driving the thing:

And we're off! First challenge was to take a decent snap of the train as it curved around and crossed this trestle bridge:

A brief stop at Menzies Creek meant a photo op for these tourists:

It was a very cold ride that day - but the open-sided carriages were a huge plus for photography (and also meant that kids could sit with their legs hanging out the sides of the train if they wanted to). Some beautiful green scenery on the way:

On our way back from Emerald we got to join the attractive dining carriage which was on the return leg of the daily Steam and Cuisine lunch service. Here's Narrelle:

Back at Belgrave at the end of the trip, I realised the First Class dining carriages were each named after a station on the former Tasmanian mining railway which is now known as the West Coast Wilderness Railway (and you can see my blog post from that journey here):

From Belgrave, it was a short dash up the walkway connecting the narrow gauge station to the mainline Belgrave suburban station, then onto an electric train for the trip back to the centre of Melbourne. Faster, certainly, but not as much fun as Puffing Billy.

Disclosure time: On this trip I was hosted by the Puffing Billy Railway. Find details of its timetable and fares by clicking here.

William Dampier, Pirate & Explorer

2011-09-28T14:00:00.000+10:00

Everyone loves a pirate, so here's a profile of a pirate who gave his name to a Western Australian town.

I originally wrote it for an ecommerce website many years ago. I think it was meant to accompany a page of pirate-themed toys for sale, but don't hold me to that...

Sometimes a pirate, sometimes an explorer, William Dampier was one of the first Englishmen to set foot in Australia.

Australia is not a place generally associated with pirates. By the time it was settled by Europeans, the great age of piracy had passed it by.

However, one English pirate had a role in our pre-colonial history. William Dampier (1652-1715), a buccaneer for some years in the Caribbean, became the first Englishman to chart the coast of north-western Australia.

Just fill in the map as you go along

How involved he was in piracy is actually an open question. Some have suggested he merely found pirate ships a convenient way to travel. Whatever the truth, he certainly did keep company with pirates and knew their ways well.

He also was an inquisitive explorer. In January 1688, Dampier was one of the first Englishman to set foot on the Australian mainland when his ship, the Cygnet, was beached on the northwest coast near King Sound. The Cygnet carried Dampier to a number of destinations in Asia. Throughout his voyages, he kept well-written notes of his observations.

Dampier had his share of adventures as well. When he separated from his shipmates in the Dutch East Indies (now Indonesia), he took seven crewmen on a small boat through a hurricane to Sumatra. Exploring the area, he kept adding to his journals.

A huge rollercoaster of a tale

He published his work in 1697 as New Voyage Round the World, and it became a best-seller. His work caught the eye of the Admiralty. In 1699 they equipped him with HMS Roebuck, a slightly leaky cast-off, and set him off the explore the coast of Australia (then known as New Holland).

This was no joy-trip. Aside from the suspect nature of the boat’s structure, the captain and crew were of a headstrong buccaneer background. Nevertheless, they reached the west coast safely, and Dampier got to name Shark Bay for the sensible reason that it was a bay with lots of sharks in it.

A cunning plan

Proceeding along the coast to the northeast, Dampier’s urgent need was to find fresh water for the crew. Previous maps of the area were full of gaps, and he felt sure he would come across a river at some point. In an echo of the search for the Northwest Passage in the northern hemisphere, he also believed there must be a Southeast Passage that would lead to the Pacific.

He was right, of course, as the Timor Sea and Torres Strait would have led him there. Unfortunately, the need for water grew too great, and the Roebuck had to leave to resupply in Timor.

This was the end of Dampier’s exploration of the Australian coast, though he did continue on to chart New Guinea and New Britain (now the Solomon Islands). On the Roebuck’s return to England, its planking finally gave way and the ship was lost in the Atlantic. Amazingly, the crew made it to a nearby island with some supplies, and were rescued by passing ships.

Two schools of thought

Although he had achieved some remarkable seamanship and expanded the store of human knowledge with his explorations, Dampier’s voyage had an unhappy ending in England. A former crewman, Fisher, had spread malicious information about him through the Admiralty and, with the loss of the Roebuck, Dampier was barred from commanding future naval vessels.

This didn’t stop him making a career as a privateer, a kind of semi-official pirate. He became a privateer later in his life, earning a commission from the English government to harass Spanish shipping.

He’s an interesting figure, an adventurer who steered a difficult course between official honour and the reckless freedom of pirates. With an Australian town and archipelago named after him on the coast he once explored, it’s worth remembering this early explorer and sometime pirate.

(Public domain image of William Dampier is courtesy of Wikimedia Commons and Project Gutenberg)

A Festival Like Alice 2

2011-09-19T21:42:00.001+10:00

As I mentioned in the previous post, I'm currently in Alice Springs for the annual Alice Desert Festival. I'd already done some dot painting and taken in an outdoor premiere of a new play; now here's what happened the next day.

Music in the gorge

The dry weather around Alice obviously makes it easy to schedule outdoor events. Match it with the Territorians' willingness to drive long distances for a day trip, and you have a 272km round trip to Ormiston Gorge to see the local choir Asante Sana perform in a spectacular location.

It was well worth the drive. The gorge is a fantastic place, with a sheer wall of craggy red rock looming over a watercourse lined by a broad stretch of sand on each side. The effect is that of an inland beach in a larger than life setting.

The choir were good too, starting off with a brace of African songs and then heading into more general material.

The highlight of the afternoon, though, was the cameo appearance of tenor Boyd Owen, who performed a powerful operatic aria which resounded through the beautiful space. And he did it in bare feet too, something he noted as a personal first.

Bush food on the menu

Back in Alice that evening, the Wild Bushfoods Gala Dinner featured the skills of chef Andrew Fielke, cooking several courses composed of bush foods presented in a modern style.

Outside the ballroom of the Crowne Plaza, we sampled canapes including crocodile spare ribs, and saltbush and whiting fritters.

Then, seated at the tables within, we were served dishes such as yabby bisque with coconut lemon myrtle foam; barramundi with pencil yam and leek gratin; slow roast camel scotch fillet with pepperleaf potato gnocchi; and this dish, braised kangaroo tail and seared kangaroo filet mignon with bush banana and brown butter:

Dessert, in case you're wondering, was sugar bag honey parfait and coolamon tuile, with wattleseed and Ferrero Rocher ripple gelato. Sweet.

[Read the previous Alice Desert Festival instalment here]

For more details of the Alice Desert Festival, click here. Disclosure time: On this trip I was hosted by Tourism NT.

A Festival Like Alice 1

2011-09-18T12:18:00.001+10:00

I'm on my very first visit to the Northern Territory, and I've gone right to the centre of Australia - Alice Springs. In a few hours on Thursday morning I was transported from a chilly tram stop on Bourke Street, Melbourne, to the hot dry red-dust environment of Alice Springs. And all without producing a passport.

I'm primarily here as a guest of the Alice Desert Festival, an annual week of cultural events which this year runs from 9 to 18 September. Alice may be a small town but as it rarely rains here, it gives the festival organisers great scope in staging outdoor events in spectacular locations.

Joining the dots

But more of the outdoors later. The first thing I attended was actually a low-key indoor event at the Ngurratjuta Art Centre. It's a fairly humble place, being tucked away at the back of a building in an industrial part of town. Within its grounds, however, is an impressive art gallery showcasing watercolour work by local Aboriginal painters.

The centre's workshop is open to indigenous artists to use for free, including materials, with the centre taking a commission from art sold. The centre has a particular goal of encouraging the continuation of the style of artwork made famous by Albert Namatjira, and I noticed the surname 'Namatjira' on some of the artists' lockers around the walls.

The festival session invited visitors to try either watercolour painting or dot painting for ourselves; and of course we all chose the dot painting. Having been shown how to make dots of various sizes using either wooden skewers or the end of a paint brush, we were then reminded that it wasn't an abstract exercise - the works should tell a story.

Here's my first effort, not bad for a beginner I thought:

And if you're wondering what the story is - it involves a group of wild camels I encountered on the road to Hermannsburg the previous day (can you spot them in the art?). Here's a pic from real life:

Olive and pink by sunset

For my second festival event, I walked through a river to get to the venue. To be precise, it was the dry riverbed of the Todd River, and it was the quickest route from my hotel to the Olive Pink Botanic Garden, where the play The First Garden was being premiered.

You may reasonably assume that 'Olive Pink' refers to the colours of vegetation or landscape, but in fact she was an early Aboriginal rights activist and former anthropologist who decided to create a garden of native plants in Alice Springs, with the help of Warlpiri man Johnny Tjampitjinpa.

She lived within the park until her death at 1975, aged 91. She was a remarkable and strong-willed woman whose life story is well worth reading.

The compact cast of three actors (playing five characters) did a great job of portraying the high points of her life within the reserve, though delivery tended to the melodramatic at times, due to the necessity of projecting as clearly as possible in an open space.

Natasha Raja, co-writer of the play with Christopher Raja, convincingly portrayed both Pink's force of character and her stubborn refusal to be beholden to anyone; while Scott Fraser neatly cast light on her personality as both down-to-earth helper Henry Wardlaw and the ghost of her would-be fiancee who was killed at Gallipoli.

Also impressive was Eshua Bolton, an indigenous actor originally from New South Wales, who ranged from the youthful excesses of the young boy Tasman to the calm and thoughtful personality of Tjampitjinpa.

The setting, of course, was perfect - gum trees, bird calls, and a bluff of pink rock rising up behind the set with its humble hut. Remarkably, I was told afterward that the section of the garden in which the play was being staged was roughly the area in which Olive Pink had lived. I wonder what she would have made of it?

Next: Choral voices in a gorge, and bush foods for dinner... [Read the next instalment here]

The First Garden continues to 25 September; for more details of the Alice Desert Festival, click here. Disclosure time: On this trip I was hosted by Tourism NT.

Queenscliff Time Bubble

2011-09-07T09:14:00.000+10:00

I've just returned from Queenscliff, a town about 100km south of Melbourne, at the easternmost end of the Bellarine Peninsula which wraps around the southwestern shoreline of Port Phillip Bay.

In the 19th century Queenscliff was a popular holiday destination for Melburnians, linked by vessels which steamed straight down the bay between the two places. Sadly, today we have to settle for going the long way round via Geelong.

What's fascinating about the town is its almost completely unbroken set of Victorian-era buildings in both its main street and residential streets. As I've intimated elsewhere, it's as if its 19th century inhabitants made a deal with someone supernatural in order to keep the place untouched by the excesses of 20th century architecture.

Here are some of its gems which I liked the look of...

1. Vue Grand. It was once the 19th century Grand Hotel, but after a wing was burned down in the late 1920s, it gained an art deco makeover and the fashionably spelled 'Vue'.

2. Queenscliff Post Office. I've mentioned before how much I enjoy discovering country town post office buildings which are still used as post offices, and here's another fine example.

3. Former Wesleyan Church. Down the other end of this block is this former place of worship, now an atmospheric second-hand bookshop.

4. Fort Queenscliff. Further along and around the corner is this army installation, built to ward off a Russian invasion (seriously) during the Crimean War. Allegedly it fired the first shot by British Empire forces in both World Wars, when it fired warning shots against a) a German vessel attempting to flee through the nearby Heads out to sea in 1914; and b) an incoming local cargo ship which hadn't responded to a signal in 1939.

5. Bellarine Railway. In the other direction, down toward the harbour, is the terminus of this tourist railway which runs Sunday steam services along a stretch of the former branch line from Geelong. Fine train!

6. 360Q. Finally, to break the Victorian-era stranglehold, here's the brand new 360Q building in the rebuilt Queenscliff Harbour. It's a lighthouse, a restaurant and an observation tower all in one. Nice views.

And you can read more about Queenscliff's attractions, accommodation, dining and shopping in the forthcoming update to my Melbourne Getaways app for the iPad and iPhone.

Disclosure time: On this trip I travelled courtesy of V/Line and the Vue Grand.

The Unicycle Diaries 7: The Bison That Time Forgot

2011-08-31T16:31:00.000+10:00

After my first Lonely Planet assignment in Poland in winter 2006, I pitched this bison-related story idea to a number of publications. Nothing came of it, but I thought it'd make a good backbone for a picture story here...

I’ve never felt much like Little Red Riding Hood... until this very moment.

Having left the minibus at the turn-off from the road to Białowieża, a small village near Poland’s border with Belarus, I’m trudging along a road caked with thick snow. My footsteps are the only thing audible, though even they are muffled by the crunchy white layer beneath my feet.

It’s the middle of the day, but the sky is a strange muted grey and the bare spindly trees look like extras from The Blair Witch Project. And I know there are wolves in these woods. And I know the European Bison Reserve must be just a kilometre or so ahead. But my hindbrain isn’t so sure this is a good idea...

On my first Lonely Planet assignment in Poland in the midst of winter in 2006, I journeyed through the snowy forest to see the last wild European bison in a reserve near a tiny eastern town. What I discovered was snow, bison, wolves, tarpans and the village that time forgot.

The Unicycle Diaries is an occasional series wherein I use excerpts from diary entries or story pitches to create a snapshot of a past journey. For previous instalments, click on the Unicycle Diaries topic tag below, then scroll down.

The Alphabet Dinners: H is for Hotel Lincoln

2011-08-23T20:14:00.001+10:00

In The Alphabet Dinners series, I review the cheap restaurants of Melbourne... In alphabetical order.

I was supposed to be meeting some people I didn't know for dinner tonight (long story), but the arrangement fell through.

Finding myself at a loose end, I thought I'd resume my series of reasonably priced restaurant reviews, with subjects taken from The Age Cheap Eats guide.

So this week, H is for Hotel Lincoln, the handiest 'H' listing in the guide on my route back to the city.

Judging from the Web, the Lincoln has been around since the 1850s, which must make it one of Melbourne's oldest pubs still operating in the same location.

Though it's obviously had some remodelling over the years, with an art deco vibe currently about the place. You can get a glimpse of it here:

And here's a shot of the interior - a little dark, but there's a suggestion of deco lines:

There's a fancy gastropub dining room in the back (where the windows bear an image of Abraham Lincoln), but I decided to eat at a table by the window in the atmospheric front bar.

Always alert for interesting beer possibilities, I ordered a pint of something new: Full Steam Pale Lager. The barman said it resembled Corona, and by crikey he was right.

A good refreshing beer, and I later found out it's quite new, brewed by Melbourne's own Thunder Road Brewing Company.

And so to my meal, which was none other than a beef burger served in an upmarket style.

The chips had that fancy venue flaw of being able to be quickly counted on sight (for the record there were 11, though they were chunky and rather good).

There was no skimping with the burger however - tasty, filling, with quality ingredients. There was even a slice of beetroot in there. How Aussie was that?

The Bill: $30.00
The Restaurant: Hotel Lincoln, 91 Cardigan St, Carlton; Ph: 03 9347 4666

The Unpublished 10: Flashpacker Central

2011-08-18T11:49:00.004+10:00

I wrote this review of the new and impressive Sydney Harbour YHA hostel in March 2010, but as the publication later decided it wanted equal coverage of hostels across several states, it was shelved.

Here it is now (with updated price details at the end) for your enjoyment...

It’s 5pm on a humid summer day in Sydney, the sort of day that has me dripping with sweat after even a gentle walk.

So I’m content to sit in the lounge of the new Sydney Harbour YHA hostel in The Rocks, high up above the harbour and not far from a certain famous bridge.

At this time of day there’s a relaxed vibe in the lounge, which receives lots of natural light from the large windows arrayed along each side. People are lazing about, either reading or dozing.

At a bank of computers at the far end, people are checking email, Facebooking or doing whatever one does online when on holiday far from home. Behind me, in a sizeable open plan kitchen, there are people preparing either a very late lunch or an early dinner.

It’s partly to do with the time of day - that curious pause between afternoon and evening - but this big open space is filled with the sort of relaxed sociability that you only find in a good hostel.

The place has been slowly filling for an hour or so now, and as people drift in I sense they’re feeling tired but satisfied after a big day of sightseeing, taking the opportunity to chill a little before tackling the night.

As I’ve often noticed in places like this, the clientele isn’t limited to youths. There are travellers of all ages here, from twentysomethings to people in their sixties. There is one thing they all have in common, however, despite their diverse ages and nationalities: they’re all flashpackers.

Flashpacking explained

Let me explain. “Flashpacking” popped into the travel lexicon a few years ago, neatly bridging a previous gap in the accommodation market that was then rapidly filled by a savvy new generation of hostel owners.

Basically, the flashpacker is someone who enjoys the sociability, informality and budget rates of a backpackers’ hostel, but is affluent enough to afford the comforts of a hotel room.

The result is a hostel that offers private rooms with neatly made beds and ensuite bathrooms, but retains the backpacker staples of communal lounges and kitchens. Such hostels still offer the traditional dorm accommodation, but it’s in smaller rooms of six or so beds, with a bathroom for each room.

It’s the best of both worlds, especially for travellers who are out all day and don’t care much about their rooms as long as they’re clean and comfortable. And there’s the option of a ready-made social life via interaction with other guests and the regular social events hosted by the hostel.

Hostel above the harbour

A fine example of the flashpacker hostel is this new YHA facility in The Rocks, opened in November 2009. The location itself is remarkable, with the purpose-built hostel buildings suspended on pillars above an extensive archaeological dig.

The so-called “Big Dig” cleared away a century of change to reveal The Rocks as it was in the early 1900s - a crowded slum with tiny houses crammed into narrow laneways. Beneath the hostel are the clearly visible foundation stones of the tenement houses which once stood on the site.

To its credit, the hostel makes a major feature of the exposed dig, opening its fascinating patterns to view wherever possible. Even within the accommodation area, the central void drops away to ground level, revealing the remnants of the past.

I’ve been booked into a family room, a light, airy space with high ceilings, housing a double bed adorned with a striped duvet, a grey-brown carpet, two bunk beds, a table and two chairs.

The ensuite bathroom is neat, clean and contemporary. It could be a room in a modern budget hotel anywhere, though there’s a hint of hostel about the steel-framed beds and the lockers which can be secured with padlocks.

Environmental positives

What’s particularly impressive are the hostel’s environmentally-friendly innovations.

This is the first room I’ve ever stayed in (in hotel or hostel) that has a separate recycling bin, and attached to the window frame is a kind of fixed louvre that deflects the heat from direct sunshine while still allowing indirect natural light. On the table is a note explaining that the building’s air-conditioning only kicks in above a certain temperature, thus reducing carbon emissions.

There’s plenty to like about this place, including its outdoor areas. Off the lounge is a pleasant balcony with red chairs and great views of old buildings and the glass towers of Sydney's central business district beyond. To the east I can make out the outline of a giant passenger ship at berth near Circular Quay, and from the hostel’s rooftop you can see the Opera House.

That’s yet another attraction of the flashpacking life... it’s social, it’s affordable, and it often takes place in scenic locations that would otherwise cost an arm and a leg to stay in. What’s not to like?

The Sydney Harbour YHA is located at 110 Cumberland St, The Rocks. Dorm beds from $39 per person per night, double rooms from $133 per night, four-person family rooms from $165 per night. More details and bookings via +61 2 8272 0900 or www.yha.com.au.

Disclosure time... on this trip I travelled courtesy of the YHA and Northern Rivers Tourism.

The Unpublished is a random series comprising my never-published travel articles. For previous instalments, click on the The Unpublished Topic tag below, then scroll down.

Streamlined Espresso, Modern Art

2011-08-17T17:57:00.000+10:00

My brother John Richards has a theory: he thinks the reason Americans have such poor coffee is that their big influx of Italian migrants took place before the invention of the modern espresso machine; while Australia, receiving most of its Italians after World War II, benefited from their technological espresso expertise.

It's a beguiling theory, and one that's currently embodied in physical form at the Museo Italiano in Melbourne, Australia.

Rescued from obscurity and restored by Daniel di Paolo, a selection of fine postwar espresso machines have been impressing visitors for the past few weeks - and you have just a few days to catch the free exhibition before it closes.

It's a remarkable selection with a strongly modernist look - all that streamlined, high-octane, thrusting postwar energy packaged within a device that perfected the way to make good coffee.

Here are a few of the exhibits.

1. A Eureka machine from 1955, seemingly built to resemble a high-powered automobile of the time:

2. A beautiful Gaggia machine from 1955. I'm fascinated by the streamlined snub-nosed form:

3. The splash guard of this 1952 Faema machine makes it look like a prop from one of the decade's science fiction movies:

4. Whoa... just beautiful. This 1950 La San Marco device was known as the Lollobrigida after the curvy actress Gina Lollobrigida:

5. Another car-like machine, a smooth Gaggia from 1957:

6. This streamlined and rare Rancilio dates from 1955:

7. The 1956 La Pavoni looks like it could double as a prop in an early Doctor Who episode:

8. And finally, one of the first Gaggia models ever made, from 1950. And I think you'll agree, it's a work of espresso-making art:

The espresso machine exhibition runs to Saturday 20 August 2011 at Museo Italiano, 199 Faraday St, Carlton. Open 10am-5pm Tuesday-Friday, 12-5pm Saturday. Admission is free.

Barcelona by Mouth

2011-08-05T15:18:00.002+10:00

Earlier this week, I ate at Movida Acqui for the first time.

This Spanish restaurant in Melbourne, Australia is the latest outpost of chef Frank Camorra's popular series of Movida restaurants, the first of which is in an alleyway next to the wildly decorated Forum Theatre.

Movida Acqui has a more formal setting, being in the city's legal quarter; in fact, there's a fine view of the Supreme Court dome from its first floor premises.

I was soon enjoying some great tapas in the company of a bunch of travel-related people. A highlight was Movida's signature anchovy on a crouton, topped with smoked tomato sorbet. Other memorable items included the calamari sandwich, and artichoke heart filled with pigeon.

As good as the food was, we were there for a purpose - the launch of Camorra's new book (co-authored with Richard Cornish), Movida's Guide to Barcelona.

As the title suggests, it's a guide to the cuisine of the Spanish city which Camorra was born in. Leafing through its pages, what struck me at first was the attractiveness of the book itself. Though a paperback, it's bound in a sturdy bright orange cover with gatefolds at each end, one of which unfolds to reveal a multicoloured map of the city and its districts.

Given that it's filled with beautiful photos and longer articles, along with restaurant reviews, hotel reviews and practical information, Movida's Guide to Barcelona would function equally well as a coffee table book or a guide on the road. In fact, given the thicker-than-a-paperback heft and quality presentation, it's likely been produced with just that dual purpose in mind.

The longer pieces cover interesting topics which are a good read in themselves: 'A Brief History of Catalonia Through Food', for example, or a piece on the architectural highlights of Barcelona. 'The Essential Dishes of Barcelona' or 'Wine in Barcelona' would be handy reading in any city where Catalan cuisine is available.

The shorter reviews are sorted by district: El Raval, Poble-Sec, Poblenou, etc. Within these sections are short and snappy reviews of both restaurants (titled in blue text) and food shops (in red), with practical info such as opening hours and price ranges. There are some gems in here which are fun just to read about.

To give you an example, in the first few pages under El Raval I read about organic bakery Barcelona Reykjavik, the fading modernist Bar Muy Buenas, the century-old Ca L'Estevet, and the traditional eatery El Quim De La Boqueria in the lively La Boqueria Market ("Nobody raises an eyelid when a market porter sits down to a plate of tripe with a beer at 9am - he has been up for hours").

Movida's Guide to Barcelona is an entertaining read regardless of whether you're intending to travel to Barcelona. Mind you, if you are - and lucky you - this guide would be a great companion on a journey through its foodie possibilities. Camorra's final line in the book's introduction - "You have our permission to be swept away" - seems the perfect cue to plan a trip to Catalonia.

Movida's Guide to Barcelona is published by Melbourne University Press, $32.99.

Dublin: A Site With Bite

2011-08-02T10:38:00.001+10:00

On my last full day in Dublin in May (hosted by Aer Lingus and Tourism Ireland), I had some time to kill so I jumped aboard one of those "hop on, hop off" double decker tour buses you find in cities around the world.

I don't usually think much of these tours, compared with the close-up advantages of seeing a place on foot. However, but they can give a good orientation to a city and allow you to (briefly) see some areas you otherwise wouldn't get to.

The bonus that day was the driver of my particular bus, who had a witty turn of phrase that livened up the standard tour commentary.

He particularly delighted in telling us the nicknames that Dubliners have given the various statues and monuments dotted around the Irish capital. What makes them particularly funny is that they're not at all fond and whimsical. Instead, they're rapier-sharp phrases with an acid bite, usually couched in the pattern "The X with/in the Y".

For example, an underwater clock that once sat beneath the River Liffey was known as "The Chime in the Slime", while a set of statuary featuring two shoppers near the Halfpenny Bridge is called "The Hags with the Bags". Not gentle, certainly, but funny all the same.

Here are a few other Dublin statues and their nicknames.

1. This statue of famous author James Joyce holding a cane in O'Connell Street seems universally known as "The Prick with the Stick":

(Image courtesy of Tourism Ireland, photographer Dublin Tourism)

2. Not far from Joyce is this soaring monument erected in 2003, the needle-like Spire of Dublin. This has attracted an enormous number of nicknames, including:

The Stiletto in the Ghetto
The Stiffy by the Liffey
The Skewer in the Sewer
The Spire in the Mire
The Erection in the Intersection
The Rod to God

(Image courtesy of Tourism Ireland, photographer Holger Leue 2005)

3. This statue features Molly Malone, from the famous song which had her selling "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!" in Dublin's streets. As Molly is depicted wearing a particularly low-cut dress, it's attracted more than its fair share of ribald nicknames:

The Tart with the Cart
The Dish with the Fish
The Dolly with the Trolley
The Flirt in the Skirt
The Trollop with the Scallops

(Image courtesy of Tourism Ireland, photographer Holger Leue 2003)

4. This statue of Phil Lynott, frontman of Irish band Thin Lizzy in the 1970s and '80s, was erected in 2005. It hasn't attracted a lasting Dublin nickname yet, demonstrating that it's not that easy to form one that follows the formula and is also funny.

A commenter in an online forum on the topic suggested "The Ace with the Bass", though that's too positive to really fit the acid style.

(Image courtesy of Tourism Ireland, photographer Tony Pleavin)

5. Finally, this monument features Anna Livia, personification of the River Liffey. It was erected in O'Connell Street in 1988, but was removed in 2001 to make space for the Spire of Dublin. In early 2011 it was re-erected in a park next to the Liffey.

Given her watery setting, Anna Livia has attracted lots of irreverent nicknames. The best, however, must be the unforgettable "The Floozy in the Jacuzzi".

(Photographer Piolinfax, licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license)

And that's all from me - The Jotter with the Totter.

This post was sponsored by AFerry.co.uk. Check out its site for ferries to Ireland, including ferries to Dublin.

London: Science Fiction in the Library

2011-07-29T16:18:00.001+10:00

Last week I mentioned the Doctor Who Experience exhibition which I recently visited in London.

I was also lucky enough to get to the British Library for its Out of this World: Science Fiction But Not as You Know It exhibition on science fiction literature.

Aside from the appalling title which crams in two science fiction cliches, the exhibition was excellent.

I was wondering how interesting a book-based exhibition could be, given the obvious lack of visual material, but the British Library boffins had come up with brilliant ways to stimulate the imagination of visitors.

Sub-genres

First up, they'd divided the exhibition along the lines of six sub-genres: Alien Worlds, Future Worlds, Parallel Worlds, Virtual Worlds, End of the World and Perfect World. This both made the content more manageable, and underlined the fact that science fiction is a great big unwieldy collection of many diverse approaches to fiction.

It also provided a way in for those who weren't that familiar with SF (a far more preferable abbreviation than the dreaded 'sci-fi', by the way). The opening section, Alien Worlds, drew connections between the long history of fiction involving journeys to strange lands (think Gulliver's Travels) and science fiction stories which explored other planets.

Within this section were some amazing examples of proto-SF written well before the novels of HG Wells and Jules Verne, including a centuries-old Greek text which told a story of travel to the Moon.

Relevance

From there, the exhibition demonstrated how relevant SF can be to topical issues. The End of the World section, for example, included apocalyptic fiction addressing human destruction of the environment; the Virtual Worlds section looked at the way technology changes our lives; and the Perfect World section addressed both utopian and dystopian visions of the future.

And both Future World and Parallel Worlds showed how SF could stimulate the reader to imagine both how things could change in the future, and how things could have been different in the past if certain key events had not occurred. This 'parallel world/alternate history" type of fiction is one of my personal favourites. In this section - in fact through all the sections - I was busily jotting down book titles for my reading list.

Crowd pleasing elements

As you'd expect, the exhibition featured many books and manuscripts. There was also a fair bit of audio-visual material, including recordings of radio interviews with such SF luminaries as Arthur C Clarke. There were more light-hearted elements as well, including a virtual drawing board where visitors could design an alien; a cute interactive robot (pictured above, courtesy of the British Library); and a computer housing an artificial intelligence with which one could chat.

A couple of crowd pleasers were a full-size model of the TARDIS exterior from Doctor Who, and a Martian tripod from The War of the Worlds, which towered above visitors (both pictured, courtesy of the British Library). I walked through its struts a couple of times before looking up and realising it was there, looming above me. Another gem was the model of a steampunk version of the Doctor's robotic dog K-9, constructed by a fan.

Postcards and a tea towel

As I reached the exit, I found a few computers set up from which I could send e-postcards bearing classic SF novel covers, with virtual stamps featuring the faces of SF authors. I dispatched a few of these, then headed for the exhibition's shop.

A friend back in Melbourne had expressed interest in getting hold of something from the exhibition, so after browsing, I selected three postcards of old-fashioned science fiction covers, along with a tea towel bearing the cover image of a French edition of The War of the Worlds. Classy. Along with a copy of the exhibition guide, it made an eminently postable collection of items that could fit inside an A4 envelope, soon en route through time and space via the Royal Mail.

Out of this World is an excellent exhibition, which continues until 25 September 2011 at the British Library, 96 Euston Road, London (admission is free). It'd be particularly worth recommending to book-reading friends who are a bit wary of science fiction - I can't think of any better way to introduce someone to the genre's deeply fulfilling pleasures.

This post was brought to you by HBF, a leading Australian provider of travel insurance.

Doctor Who and the City

2011-07-22T12:55:00.001+10:00

I've been home from Europe for two weeks now, and the jet lag seems to have gone.

It didn't stop me getting some solid work done last week, in any case. In the course of five days I wrote five new articles from scratch, which I owed to various newspapers. That effort was followed this week by an intense focus on my Lonely Planet chapters, which are due before the end of August.

One of the newspaper pieces I was writing was of my journey through the Doctor Who Experience, a big exhibition currently on in London. Yes, I know, that was my reaction too: "You're paying me to write about this?"

I don't want to pre-empt the article, so I won't talk about the exhibition here. What I do want to do is show off some publicity shots kindly supplied to me by BBC Worldwide, which they used to drum up interest in the exhibition when it opened.

Here's the first:

If you're also a long-time fan, you may recognise it as a modern take on a famous scene from the story The Dalek Invasion of Earth, first broadcast in late 1964 (just a few months after I was born!).

Here's the next one:

And yes, it echoes a scene from the classic 1968 Cyberman story, The Invasion. Poor old London seemed to be invaded by alien menaces around the clock back then.

The final shot is this one:

The monster here is The Silence from the latest season of Doctor Who, but the scene mystifies me. I have the feeling it's also modelled on a scene from a classic Doctor Who story (one involving Autons perhaps?) but I can't figure out which. Can anyone help me out?

Coming Home to Melbourne

2011-07-12T16:36:00.001+10:00

Hi all, I'm back. Did you miss me?

Of course, due to the wonders of modern information technology I never quite went away.

Being able to keep up with friends via Facebook and Twitter is a great thing of course, and it's really reduced the sense of loneliness that can set in when travelling by myself for weeks on a Lonely Planet job.

On the other hand, it can feel a bit odd being connected to everyone at home while being in a foreign environment; both virtually close and literally far away.

And as much as I enjoy the daily discoveries that come with travel, here are a few of the things I missed from Melbourne:

1. The Vibe. This is a matter of personal taste, of course. Some people are perfectly suited to Adelaide, others to London or New York. But I've loved Melbourne ever since I first set foot in the city in 1991, and the romance has grown deeper since I moved here in 1998. For me it has just the right balance of bustle and international vibe, along with a friendly nature and creative core.

2. The Coffee. Unless you're in New Zealand or Italy, you just can't get as good a cup of espresso-style coffee anywhere else (and to be honest, I'm not that sure about Italy). Yeah, I know, in some ways it's trivial - but I like the way we've fastened on the cafe culture as something to care about and make our own, and the sense of connection our best cafes provide.

And I think our cafe culture's finest moment came on 29 July 2008, when Starbucks announced the closure of 75% of its Australian stores after it had failed to beat the local offering via the usual corporate marketing assault.

A recommendation: Brother Baba Budan, my favourite cafe.

3. The Food. Particularly the casual food, as served in Melbourne cafes. In Poland, for example, there's plenty of good restaurant dining, but not much in the way of cafe food beyond cakes and the odd toasted sandwich. I love the quality of the cafe dining here.

A recommendation: The fine and exotic breakfasts at the Duchess of Spotswood.

4. The Grid. Melbourne's city centre is built on a rectangular street layout, aid out in 1837 by surveyor Robert Hoddle. There's something comforting and familiar about the regular pattern and the familiar street names: Collins, Bourke, Flinders etc. Not to mention their little cousins: Little Collins, Little Bourke and so on. And don't get me started about their fascinating black sheep relatives, the alleys and laneways.

5. The Trams. I love trams wherever they are in the world, and there are lots of them in Melbourne. The tram is a marvellous way of getting around; far superior to its cramped inferior rival the bus, and more engaged with its immediate environment than its faster rival the train. And in the basic way they operate, they've hardly changed since the 19th century, which makes them a bit of everyday steampunk.

6. The Bars. Like the cafes, there are plenty of these scattered around the city, small and idiosyncratic. It's another area of Melbourne life that seems immune to being transformed into corporate chains.

A recommendation: The Asian-themed charms of Golden Monkey.

OK, so sue me - I love Melbourne. And I'm fresh enough back from a long overseas trip that I'm not afraid to say it.

(Just one request - can we turn the heat up? And why is it dark so early? Oh... winter. OK.)

Got any other favourite Melbourne places to add? Feel free to comment...

London: Mind the Gap

2011-07-03T06:34:00.000+10:00

Many people have become entranced by the London Underground map since its inspired creation in 1931 by Harry Beck.

Discarding the idea that the lines should closely follow real-world geography, Beck laid out the subterranean railway lines in the manner of a circuit diagram. The concept was immediately popular, and the rest is history.

The map is obviously practical, but there's also something intriguing about its design. Perhaps those angular connecting lines in different colours engage the human propensity for seeking hidden patterns; the map might be hinting to our subconscious minds that it contains the true meaning of the universe, if only we'd peer at it hard enough.

Or perhaps it's the Tube station names, a jumble of London's sometimes quirky place names rendered in a neat font side by side on the map, sparking the imagination. Neil Gaiman perhaps created the greatest expression of this Tube map fascination in his TV series Neverwhere, in which an alternate London was populated with strange characters named after Underground stations.

And I know about this curious fascination with the London Underground myself of course, having authored a novel drawing heavily on the Tube and its names, Mind the Gap (also available for Kindle, he added subtly).

So seeing I'm in London for a few days, I thought I'd list a few random stations that hold some meaning for to me, from my visits to the British capital over the years:

Tower Hill: It was upon leaving this station in 1990, on our first trip to the UK, that Narrelle and I stumbled upon a section of the Roman wall that originally encircled the City of London. Slightly cliched, but still a magical 'touching history' moment.

Barbican: It was from here that we walked to a production of Shakespeare's much lesser known play Coriolanus, revived because its depiction of the downfall of a tyrant held new interest after the then-recent fall of Europe's communist regimes.

Baker Street: We're both great Sherlock Holmes fans, so how could we resist visiting his home turf? When we first travelled through the station, it had Holmes' likeness depicted in its interior wall tiles (I don't know what the situation is now).

Russell Square: This was our local station when we first visited London, staying in a fairly forgettable tourist hotel nearby. Loved the square, though, a classic central London element.

Covent Garden: A bunch of disparate memories here - the lifts that take you up and down because the station is so deep; the Australian accent that was once used for the recorded lift announcements; and most fondly the Tintin shop that's located nearby.

Southwark: One of the newer stations; thought of fondly for both its proximity to the reconstruction of Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, and for its impressive steel plate 'underground Dalek base' design.

Monument: It was only by accident that I discovered the source of its name, stumbling across the monument to the Great Fire of London, the conflagration which started near here in 1666. It's an imposing column over 60 metres high, and was designed by Christopher Wren.

Aldwych: The only station I've used which has since closed, Aldwych was on a short branch off the Piccadilly Line, located on The Strand and close to Australia House. Its lifts needed expensive replacements in the early 1990s but as it was only lightly used, the station was closed in 1994. It's now often used as a film set, dressed to imitate different eras as required.

Elephant and Castle: My final choice. Partly because it has a magnificent name, and partly because I passed through its attached shopping centre yesterday and took the above photo of this equally cheesy and marvellous statue at its entrance.

Do you have any favourite London Underground stations? Let me know via the comments field below. And remember - MIND THE GAP. You'll be glad you did.

Poland 4: The Big Jesus of Świebodzin

2011-06-29T20:55:00.001+10:00

Nothing makes you feel more cosmopolitan than meeting up with friends in a foreign country.

In 2006 I rendezvoused in Kraków with my Australian friends Ben and Claire who live in London; Ben was actually flying in from Paris while Claire arrived from London, so it was about as cosmopolitan as you can get. Last year Narrelle and I were in Budapest when we met up with our friend Celia, who flew in from Germany.

Last weekend saw the latest instalment: Ben and Claire flew out from London to meet me for a weekend in Poznań, Poland. Though it doesn't attract the international tourism spotlight that the likes of Kraków, Warsaw and Gdańsk receive, it's a lively city with a great dining and nightlife scene, courtesy of its big populations of resident students and visiting businessmen.

However, we had a plan for the Saturday which involved getting out into the Polish countryside. We caught an osobowy train (which stops at every stop, no matter how minor) to the western town of Świebodzin (pronounced shvee-e-bo-jeen). It's a fairly quiet and unexceptional locale, except for its newest attraction, the 33 metre high statue of Christ the King, which stands on a modest hill south of the railway line.

Two of the great things about walking in Poland are a) it's flat almost everywhere except the southern borders; and b) Poles don't assume that everyone's going to drive, so even rural attractions are served by decent footpaths. And so it was in Świebodzin. With the help of both Google Maps and eyesight, we navigated along the streets on foot, happening first upon this church:

I was interested in the large hoop-like arrangement below the statue - it looks like a clock, but it certainly wasn't showing the right time. A small mystery along the way.

By this stage we could see the Christ the King statue poking among the trees and houses, but it was unclear the best way to walk there. Then Claire spotted an access road up to the hill, with a pedestrian path alongside, so we headed up.

This is what we found:

It's hard to give a sense of scale here, but 33m is pretty high. In fact arguably it's the tallest of the various big statues of Christ around the world, depending on the stance you take about including/excluding crowns, plinths, hills and various other factors.

Not that the erection of this Jesus was without controversy. It was the brainchild of a local priest, and a lot of residents and Poles across the nation regarded it as a gaudy folly. There has also been some question of whether its foundations are sufficiently strong.

In fact, on the day we visited the hill was fenced off, and an engineering device was at work probably strengthening the structure, as you can see in the photo above. You certainly wouldn't want to be hanging about beneath if Jesus ever fell.

Anyway, we took a few photos and I popped into the gift shop to buy a postcard and stamps, so I could post Narrelle a greeting from JC.

Then we crossed the railway again to Świebodzin's compact Old Town, centred on its Rynek (market square). Here we discovered this unnamed gentleman, presumably a local musical success:

(I later discovered via Google that it's a likeness of Czesław Niemen, famed Polish musician of the 1960s and '70s. What his connection is with Świebodzin, I'm not sure.)

Świebodzin's centre is like an architectural puzzle - as we walked around, we encountered a medieval church, a 20th century church, baroque and art nouveau facades, remnants of medieval walls, and unmistakable communist-era concrete structures.

They were interwoven into the town's layout, no one element dominating, and it made for a fascinating patchwork of styles. It was as if every era in the eventful history of western Poland (which was sometimes eastern Germany) was represented in stone or concrete somewhere in the town.

I paricularly liked the tower of the town hall. Its castle-like turret made it look medieval, but I felt strongly it must be a nostalgic folly of later years - I'd seen this sort of thing before, eg the 19th century mock castle that is Wrocław Główny train station. And sure enough, the clock tower turned out to have been a 19th century addition. Nice, isn't it?

After that, we dropped into a local restaurant featuring chunky old radios as decor, where the menu promised pierogi domowe (home-made dumplings). They were good, too - good enough for Big Jesus.

Leipzig on the Menu

2011-06-20T04:52:00.002+10:00

I'm now in Leipzig, Germany, the city in which the communist government of East Germany first crumbled under the weight of public demonstrations in 1989.

However, it's not Leipzig's dramatic political history that's on my mind, but its food. It turns out that Leipzig is a haven for those centuries-old local specialties that pop up on Central European menus as you travel around.

Join me for a meal (taken across a few different restaurants) and I'll show you what I mean...

First course

The Saxons love a good filling potato soup, and this is one I had yesterday. In an unexpected but tasty variation, it contained chunks of smoked salmon:

Main course

Here's a distinctive local dish for my main - Leipziger Allerlei, which more or less means 'Leipzig Allsorts'. Aptly named, as this version was a jumble of carrots, kohlrabi (a type of cabbage), asparagus, cauliflower, snow peas and mushrooms.

Within this vegetable mix were numerous small river crayfish, accompanied by hefty potato dumplings. The whole lot was held together by a subtle sauce. It was probably the healthiest dish I've eaten for weeks:

Drink

Here's a glass of Leipziger Gose beer, made to a 300 year old recipe that was almost lost after its sole brewery closed in 1945. It was sporadically manufactured on and off until a local brewer revived it completely in the 1980s.

It's top-fermented and tastes unlike the sort of beer I'm used to - it has a sour taste with a hint of lemon, and is apparently related to white beers:

Dessert

The dessert here is Leipziger Räbchen. It's made from plums which have been stuffed with marzipan then deep fried. They were served here with a blueberry yoghurt parfait and slow sauce. I don't have much of a sweet tooth, but they were fantastic:

And here's a bonus dessert. It's a Leipziger Lerche, a 19th century cake involving almonds, nuts and marzipan. It supposedly represents the nest of a lark, hence the name - lerche means 'lark' in German:

So it's bon appetit in Leipzig... or rather, "Guten Appetit!"

Quirky Dresden

2011-06-17T04:29:00.000+10:00

I don't know quite what I expected from Dresden, Germany, which I'm visiting as a short side-trip from my Lonely Planet gig in Poland.

I knew it had been burnt to the ground by a massive British and American bombing campaign very late in World War II, a dark episode believed by many to constitute a war crime. And I knew after that it was part of the Deutsche Democratic Republic (aka East Germany) for nearly a half-century after that.

So between knowledge of the massive war damage of the 1940s and my experiences of architecture elsewhere in the former communist bloc, I wasn't expecting much. Some hideous DDR architecture and maybe even some remaining derelict areas, perhaps, in addition to the numerous museums I'd already heard of.

Which made the reality a pleasant surprise. The communist-era buildings have been given effective facelifts and aren't that noticeable, and there's been an astonishing amount of thoughtful reconstruction and restoration over the past two decades since German reunification.

Though to be honest, sometimes the tourist hub of the Altstadt (Old Town) seems too neatly arranged and a touch sterile. For example, next to my hotel is a laneway full of pubs and restaurants, Weisse Gasse. Each business within it has its name mounted on the buildings in a similar style, and many of these signs are in very familiar fonts (even Comic Sans); which makes the whole set-up seem too generic. Maybe it needs time to wear with age.

Having said that, there's also plenty that's unconventional and distinctive about Dresden, especially within its fantastically earthy and vibrant bar district in Äussere Neustadt across the River Elbe from the Old Town.

Here are some quirky elements I've noticed around the city...

1. Within the Weisse Gasse, here's a statue of a man apparently nicking a goose:

2. One of those busking statues, but this time with a bit of an Old Masters vibe. Can anyone identify the pictorial reference?

3. The amazing Albertinum building, whose courtyard has been covered over to create this foyer for its multiple museums:

4. A section of one of the few overt reminders of the DDR, a big 'striving for socialism' mural on the side of the communist-era Kulturpalast:

5. A curious watery sculpure on a wall within the Kunsthof Passage, a complex of arty shops and restaurants in Äussere Neustadt:

6. This bookish statue at Albertplatz devoted to local boy and famous writer Erich Kästner, best known for his poetry and children's works:

7. And finally, another set of human sculptures. Yeah, I know, this whole living statue thing is old hat, but I really like the way these particular guys looked - like a pair of plaster figurines on a larger scale:

Dresden - it's fun. Next stop - Leipzig!

Poland 3: Statues of Silesia

2011-06-10T05:07:00.000+10:00

I'm over the halfway point in this year's Lonely Planet assignment in Poland, and I've been traipsing through beautiful Wrocław followed by towns in the vicinity of the Sudeten Mountains.

Something you can always count on in Polish towns, big and small, is interesting statuary and street art. So here's a selection from Silesia...

1. I've written about the gnomes of Wrocław before; they're a series of small statues scattered around the city's streets, based on the folkloric krasnoludek (a kind of cross between a gnome and a dwarf). Each of them is undertaking a specific activity, usually connected to the bnuilding or business they're near. Here's a new one I spotted, next to (of course) the post office:

2. Here's a religious statue from Kłodzko; it intrigued me that one figure has a halo that's triangular. Presumably he's a fan of Pythagoras.

3. A faux piano in the mountain spa town Kudowa-Zdrój; I suspect it's had flowers planted in it at some point. There's a matching cello leaning against a lamp post nearby.

4. The Poles like these bench-based statues, I've seen a few of them around. This one is in the town of Świdnica, and depicts Maria Cunitz (1610-1664). A successor to Copernicus, in 1650 she published Urania Propitia, an acclaimed astronomical work. She's depicted holding the book here:

5. And finally, some of the more outlandish decoration within the Maximilian Hall of Książ Castle, a magnificent former stately home near Świdnica. Can anyone identify the mythological creature on the right? You certainly wouldn't forget her, if you met her at a party...

Poland 2: Silesian Curios

2011-05-28T20:31:00.000+10:00

I've moved on from Kraków in this year's Lonely Planet assignment, and am now exploring the towns and cities of Śląsk (pronounced shlonsk)... or as it's better known in English, Silesia.

I've been doing what I call 'hubbing', that is I base myself in a larger city and do day trips by train or bus to each place I have to check out. It's a good way of working, as I can get straight into the research at each place, unencumbered by luggage.

The towns of Silesia have much to recommend them. Typically they're very walkable, based on an old rynek (market square) around which are arrayed a town hall and attractive old buildings. Somewere nearby will be lurking a castle, or at least the ruins of one.

And if I get to use the sentence "Jak dojść do zamku?" ("How do I get to the castle?") at least once in each town, I award myself bonus points.

Here are some of the quirkier items of interest, snapped in my Silesian travels so far...

1. As an exception to the pretty small village motif, I couldn't resist taking a photo of the communist-era Hotel Katowice (even the tram here is in sympathy with the period). Katowice is a major industrial centre and much of its architecture dates from the 1920s and beyond, so it's an interesting mish-mash of styles:

2. I spotted this little guy on the window of a bakery in attractive Pszczyna (pronounced pshchina - try saying that five times quickly). Żuczek means beetle, and there's possibly an interesting folk tale about him, but I haven't been able to discover anything further. Polish readers, can you shed any light?

3. The name of this Pszczyna street says it all; strażacka means 'firemen':

4. I like the simplicity of this shot in the side streets of Opole. A lot of clothing shops in the UK sell second-hand items from the UK, so this could be one of them:

5. Here's a wild hairdressers' sign from Opole. A unique style awaits within:

6. And finally, the market square in tiny Toszek. They haven't taken down the Easter decorations yet, as you can see:

Poland 1: Signs of Kraków

2011-05-21T04:32:00.001+10:00

It's the end of my first week in Kraków, Poland. As always at this point in these trips, I'm missing home a little, but also being pleasantly reminded of how beautiful this city is.

I don't take many photos on these trips, especially when in a city I've visited before, but I do have a few from this week that I'd like to share with you. They're of signs - more or less - which have caught me eye over the past few days...

1. I really like the look of this cafe-bookshop's sign. This sort of signage is something the Poles do very well; rather than a garish commercial logo, it's a tasteful compromise between a classic look and modernity, fitting in neatly with the city's centuries-old streetscape. There's even a hint of the art nouveau in there, I think:

2. This faded old sign on a wall in the Old Town caught my eye. I imagine it must predate the communist era, and as far as I can work out it says "Entry to dairy". Of which there is now none nearby.

3. Not exactly a sign, but here's a glass of Żywiec beer next to a bunch of flowers at the Irish cafe-bar Nic Nowego (which means "nothing new"). Those cavorting peasants on the logo must have got that way by drinking the product, one presumes:

4. The former Jewish district of Kazimierz was devastated by the Nazi regime's genocidal program in World War II, but in recent years the eastern part of the district has seen a revival of Jewish traditions and motifs. This is the sign above a bar in the quarter, in a building which was once a shop:

5. Finally, here's a large diagram of a herring, its parts labelled, on the wall of a bar which serves "Polish tapas". Well that's what the menu says. They're snack-sized dishes composed of Polish foodstuffs such as śledź (herring), kiełbasa (sausage) and golonka (pork knuckle). They go well with a vodka!

This post was sponsored by Airtours. Check out its site for best deals on all inclusive holidays.

Belfast Reborn

2011-05-14T06:55:00.003+10:00

I've just spent three days in Belfast, the capital of Northern Ireland. Of course we've all heard of Belfast, and for all the wrong reasons - for decades it was in the news as a result of its sectarian violence, euphemistically known as "The Troubles".

However, the Good Friday Agreement of 1998 put an end to that, and every year of normality since has seen Belfast mature into an attractive small city with some lively nightlife. It's also enabled the city to rediscover its 19th century heritage as a mighty industrial hub.

Here's a few random snapshots which I took of Belfast over my brief stay.

The first pic is the lunch I had on my first day there, in a great old-fashioned pub called Bittle's. On the plate are pork and leek sausages, and "champ" - mashed potato with spring onion. Not only was this a good filling lunch, I saw it on a few other menus over my stay. In fact I started to think of it as the signature dish of Northern Ireland. Went well with a Guinness too.

The Cathedral Quarter of Belfast is threaded by a series of alleyways, for some reason known as "entries". They're atmospheric narrow laneways, often housing classic old pubs. Here's the entry to Pottinger's Entry, named after local lad Sir Henry Pottinger, the first Governor of Hong Kong:

Does the below clock tower look as though it's leaning? Indeed it is. The Albert Memorial Clock was built above the subterranean course of the River Farset, and unfortunately the damp reclaimed ground shifted over time. Incidentally, Belfast took its name from the Farset, being situated on béal feirste, literally the mouth of the Farset in Gaelic...

Having been a busy industrial city in the 19th century, Belfast has many solid commercial buildings near its waterfront. Here's some elaborate decoration on the side of a former seed warehouse that's now the Malmaison Hotel:

To learn more about The Troubles, I took a black cab tour of the remaining sectarian murals and other reminders of the conflict. One of the most moving was the Peace Wall that separated Protestant and Catholic communities, covered with graffiti by visitors from around the world:

Another memorable element of Belfast's past was the SS Titanic, which was built and launched here a century ago. Here are the remains of the slipways down which Titanic and its predecessor Olympic entered the water for the first time:

And here are some pieces from a Titanic chess set, made to order by the creative types at local gallery Open Window Productions:

And finally, the Big Fish sculpture on Belfast's regenerated waterfront. Covered with tiles bearing images of the city's history, it also marked the return of salmon to the adjacent Lagan River after over a century of industrial waste was cleaned up. It's a fitting symbol for a city that's been reborn in more ways than one...

Disclosure time... on this trip I travelled courtesy of Tourism Ireland and Aer Lingus.

Distilling the Spirit of Toronto

2011-05-05T11:44:00.000+10:00

Eight months ago on my visit to Toronto, Canada, I had a Monday afternoon free and wandered down to the Distillery District.

This remarkable area was once the sprawling factory complex of Gooderham & Worts, and was reputedly the largest alcoholic distillery in the world at its 19th century zenith. Located next to railways, a river and the Great Lakes, it did a roaring trade during Prohibition in the 1920s in the right-next-door USA.

The distillery closed in 1990, later undergoing conversion into a cool urban district of arts venues and restaurants. Here's a look at how the towering industrial architecture gives the place an attractive rough-edged appearance:

It seemed more or less car-free, which was a nice surprise in a North American city. I saw a group go by on a tour taken via Segway, the curious one-person transporter which never looks quite right on either road or footpath. Plenty of room for them on a quiet Monday, of course. And here's a guy on a bike:

Here's where I had lunch, at the Mill Street Brewery pub where the microbrewery made all its beer from 2002 to 2006:

Wandering around after lunch, I found some interesting outlets and design elements. Here's an intriguing device within a chocolatier's:

And here are some funky mask-shaped chairs outside a bar:

Finally, a look at the enormous distillery-themed piece of street art in the centre of the complex. It's unnecessarily overdoing things - the industrial architecture all around it is the really impressive big-ticket item - but it is interesting to look at and walk beneath:

Disclosure time... on this trip I travelled courtesy of the Canadian Tourism Commission.

The Alphabet Dinners: G is for Gas

2011-04-29T15:34:00.003+10:00

In The Alphabet Dinners series, I review the cheap restaurants of Melbourne... In alphabetical order.

What with reviewing Comedy Festival shows and preparing for my forthcoming Lonely Planet assignment in Poland, I haven't reviewed a restaurant from The Age Cheap Eats for a couple of weeks; and this laxity just won't do.

So I downloaded the 2011 edition of the Cheap Eats iPhone app, and since the only spare time I had this week was in the afternoon, I chose somewhere from it to eat. So this was an Alphabet Lunch, from necessity.

Gas appeared to be a new entry in the guide, located not far from the South Melbourne Market. I found it in one of the old Victorian shopfronts of Coventry Street, with the interior paint stripped back to reveal a rough collection of old red bricks with sagging mortar lines.

The fit-out was in that modern sexy industrial look (which I quite like) - bare floorboards, long workbench-like tables, completely open kitchen.

After sitting inside for a while I surmised that this was one of those benighted order-at-the-counter places that make diners queue up for service.

However, this did mean I could see all the food on offer in the glass case at the counter. One thing you have to admit about Melbourne is that we're spoiled when it comes to informal dining: all the items on offer here looked fantastic, and were affordably priced.

Choices had to be made. You know I like to show you a selection of items, but there were no clear starters/mains divisions here. So, for argument's sake, let's call the Moroccan sausage roll my starter:

Hard to say what was particularly Moroccan about it, as it just tasted like a good deli-style homemade sausage roll. Solid and filling, and it came with a side serve of exotic chutney.

Next up, my "main": a chicken sausage and halloumi flatbread, filled with a visually attractive combo of the named ingredients plus pieces of boiled egg and other tasty elements along the lines of relish and leafy greens. Toasted, it tasted just as good as it looked:

And finally, a glass of Winbirra 2008 pinot gris from the Mornington Peninsula. Plenty of body and flavor, and just right for the cafe food and the warm autumnal weather.

The Bill: $27.50
The Restaurant: Gas, 253 Coventry St, South Melbourne; Ph: 03 9690 0217.

Melbourne for Laughs

2011-04-13T10:34:00.003+10:00

This week's guest blogger is fantasy novelist Narrelle M Harris, author of the Melbourne Literary app for the iPhone and iPad.

She's giving tips on what to see at this year's Melbourne International Comedy Festival, the city's biggest cultural event...

Melbourne has a reputation as a city of festivals. Drop in at any time of the year and you’re bound to fall over a festival.

In April, the festival that everyone is tripping over is the Melbourne International Comedy Festival.

The three-week bonanza of stand-up, sketch, musical, theatrical and just plain strange laughs brings visitors from all over the state, the country and the world. Even non-English speaking comedians come and try their luck from time to time.

Melbourne never really shuts down, but at festival time there’s a distinct buzz in the atmosphere. With so many people gathering at the festival focal point, the Melbourne Town Hall, as well as dozens of venues across town for a good ol’ belly laugh, the atmosphere is conspicuously convivial.

Come to repeat Comedy Festivals and you’ll see yesterday’s newcomers become today’s old hands. I’ve been watching Lawrence Leung since his first show, Sucker (in fact, here's my 2001 review of the show). He’s become one of the big names now, one of those 'guys off the telly'. His show this year, Lawrence Leung Wants a Jetpack continues with his onstage theme of 'adorable geek seeks more fun geek things in his life'.

Another highlight of this year’s offerings is Russell Kane’s brilliantly funny exploration of his relationship with his father. Kane’s fey stage persona is a fabulous contrast to those moments when he channels the fierce, tough Essex man. I also like Maria Bamford’s curious and compulsive show in which she seems to be possessed by a particularly manic pixie.

I have a soft spot for political comedy, though few people do it well. Mat Kenneally’s show, based on the time he accidentally got locked into the Maribyrnong Detention Centre, is one that works and is worth seeing.

As a writer and editor, I also couldn’t resist Mark Butler’s show for grammar nerds, Grammar Don’t Matter on a First Date. He somehow marries the intellectual humour of caring about apostrophes with the earthier humour of sex and dating... though I’ll admit my preference for jokes about punctuation.

There really is something for everyone. Sammy J’s musical comedy is always a good bet, and there are a number of 'umbrella shows' which present several acts giving fifteen minute tasters of what to expect at their headline shows. I’m also hoping to check out Deanne Smith and Andrew McClelland, among others.

So if you’re planning a trip to Melbourne, time it for the annual Comedy Festival. It'll be fun; and if you’re arriving from Europe or the Americas, you'll need a good laugh after that long flight.

This post is sponsored by JetAbroad – Australia’s favourite for cheap flights. Visit their website if you’re looking for flights to Turkey or other favourite holiday destinations from Melbourne Airport.

The Alphabet Dinners: F is for Fish Tank

2011-04-12T20:58:00.004+10:00

In The Alphabet Dinners series, I review the cheap restaurants of Melbourne... in alphabetical order.

It's been a few weeks since I produced a review of an eatery selected from the Age Cheap Eats guide, as reviewing shows in the Melbourne International Comedy Festival has been taking up all my time.

But here I was, back at the old stand again, and for "F" I chose Fish Tank, an upmarket fish and chippery in Melbourne's well-heeled bayside suburb Brighton.

It was a good night to be eating comfort food, for we were just getting our first foretaste of winter weather this year.

Though there's something darkly attractive about Melbourne in wintry weather - the sheen of fallen rain, the chill air that snaps you awake as you walk from Middle Brighton Station along Church Street toward the fish.

Fish Tank is an interesting joint - the front is a fish shop and there's a modest amount of seating both out front and in the rear of the shop, squeezed in next to the big white wall concealing the kitchen.

The menu was interesting - basically following the same lineaments of an old-fashioned fish and chip shop, but classier. I went for the Health Attack pack, which included the grilled fish of the day (John Dory), chips and salad.

To be honest, I don't think eateries should include the word "health" in menu items - it makes the customer feel too self-conscious and goody-goody. It's hard enough to order anything healthy in a fish and chip shop after all, without pointing it out. They should probably call it the "Biodynamic Sex Appeal" pack or something similar.

Anyway, I kinda spoiled the health aspect by adding a homemade dim sim and a potato cake to the order. Here's the resulting plate of fine food:

Hard to make this sort of food look sexy, isn't it? Anyway, it was very tasty.

And to accompany it, a Corona beer - you won't find that at your average fish 'n' chippery.

The place had no desserts as far as I could see, so I walked a few doors down to the Dendy Deli. This cafe-restaurant is a strangely retro place beneath a retro cinema; decorated with numerous booths, mirrored walks and neon signage.

For dessert I ordered the homemade apple crumble and a decaf coffee. The crumble was good, but as you might notice, huge; the waiter insisted it was "half a kilo". Impossible to finish!

The Bill: $22.60

The Restaurant: Fish Tank, 20 Church St, Brighton; Ph: 03 9592 0697.

The Bill: $12.90
The Restaurant: Dendy Deli, 34 Church St, Brighton; Ph: 03 9592 6233.

Brooch for a Comedian's Mother

2011-04-05T09:32:00.000+10:00

It's Melbourne International Comedy Festival time, when the city heaves with performers trying to make you laugh.

This week's guest blog post is by Melbourne jewellery creator Ali Alexander, explaining the pendant she created in connection with the annual laugh fest, and giving her top festival picks...

During the Comedy Festival one year I noticed a lot of visiting comedians hanging around town during the day. I figured that however wacky and zany they were, they all had mothers that were normal, and they all needed to buy their mothers a present from Melbourne. I thought I could make something for them, and The Brooch for a Comedian’s Mother (pictured above) was the result.

I recognised them because I like to go and see a few shows every festival. The way I choose who to go and see starts with where they are playing. I like to go to places I wouldn’t normally find myself in; I figure even if the comedy isn’t hilarious, I’ve been somewhere interesting. That includes the Melbourne Town Hall, (especially the Council Chambers and the Peter Cook Bar - which has no shows but does have beer) and Trades Hall.

This year at Trades Hall I am going to see Rod Quantock. Yes he’s been around a long time, but he is good at it and the Bella Union bar is always fascinating. The Croft Institute is a bit cold and ‘science blocky’ for a quiet drink, but I think it will be perfect for a show with guinea pigs.

A friend from the country tells me that the Victoria Hotel advertises on country television and that’s why it’s always full of country folk. I enjoy seeing things there and I’ve enjoyed Smart Casual in showcases so I’ll go and see their Story of Captain Entree.

The Swiss Club is a fun kind of place, it’s good to plan your time so you can enjoy the restaurant before you go to the gig. Hannah Gadsby is playing there and I hope to see her if there are any tickets left for her show Mrs Chuckles after her success on ABC TV's Adam Hills in Gordon Street Tonight.

I’ve never heard of Simon Keck but he’s playing at Madame Brussels; and as I usually just sit on the balcony there, I’m curious to see another part of the place.

The last time I went to the Athenaeum it was to see the Scared Weird Little Guys, I was in the VERY top row in a corner. It's very high in there and scary going up and down the stairs, but I laughed a lot so I am going to see them this time in their final tour.

Maybe I’ll see you at one of these places in April!

The Brooch for a Comedian’s Mother can be viewed in more detail at Ali Alexander's website.

Pieces of Hobart

2011-03-29T16:25:00.004+11:00

I've become a bit sunburned in Hobart - probably not something that's often said about one of Australia's southernmost places. It may be mid-autumn but it's been warm and sunny for the past few days, neatly timed with my latest short visit to Tasmania.

Here are some snapshots...

1. The exterior of Hadleys Hotel, where I stayed for the first two nights. It was built in 1854 and is about to undergo a big 21st century renovation.

Reading the history of the hotel, I was amused to note the experience of 1912 Norwegian guest Roald Amundsen, who had just become the first man to reach the South Pole and was about to announce the achievement to the world.

Here's what the great explorer later wrote about his reception at Hadleys: "Treated as a tramp - my peaked cap and blue sweater - given a miserable little room. Then I cabled the King."

2. A cool bit of art on the side of an old building on the corner of Goulburn and Molle Streets. You can just see the outside tables of a great little cafe, Pigeon Hole, on the left.

3. The entrance to funky new art gallery MONA (Museum of Old and New Art) in the city's north. Visitors enter the underground complex by first walking across the unused tennis court you can see in the foreground:

4. This little gem is the North Hobart Post Office, built in 1913. Great to see a post office building that's both a lovely piece of architecture, and also still used as a post office.

5. And the nearby State Theatre, a cinema in which the young Errol Flynn probably caught some silent movies when he lived in the area:

6. And finally, afternoon tea at acclaimed Battery Point cafe Jackman and McRoss. Consumed entirely for research purposes... no, really.

Disclosure time... on this trip I was hosted by Tourism Tasmania.

The Alphabet Dinners: E is for Everest

2011-03-22T22:21:00.002+11:00

In The Alphabet Dinners series, I review the cheap restaurants of Melbourne... in alphabetical order.

In this trawl through the Age Cheap Eats book, it's inevitable that I'd be eating Indian food at some point.

So this evening my friend Julia and I alighted from the train at Fairfield Station, walked past the giant wooden statue of a dog that once electronically barked at trains, and headed to Everest.

The interior was nice enough: a suburban ethnic eatery but more spacious than some and with aspirations to grandeur in its ornate wooden furniture and decorations.

The menu was an exposition of all the usual Indian favourites, so we ordered a selection and they showed up pretty quickly.

This is the chicken tikka masala (front) and the excellent baigan bharta, a kind of thick and spicy paste made from eggplant:

The other two dishes were the yoghurt-and-cucumber dish raita, and an exceptionally hot but tasty beef vindaloo. These two were a match made in heaven, with their respective cooling and heating qualities:

Gotta say I'm more of a naan person than a rice person:

And a Royal Challenge beer from India to complete the ensemble. Never heard of it before but it was just as bland but drinkable as the more famous Kingfisher:

The food was good, not big serves but well prepared and tastefully presented.

The only problem I had in the end was the price - $80 for two people seemed a bit steep for the amount of food and the perfunctory service.

It's as if Everest was trying hard to be flash to justify its prices but not quite making it; eg there were crisp white tablecloths, but also endorsements from cricketers on the walls and in the menus.

This style confusion made the restaurant seem adrift somewhere between local Indian eatery and smart restaurant, and a little overpriced as a result.

Still, it was good food and I'm glad I had the sense to order raita to ease that very good vindaloo.

The Bill: $80.50 for two.
The Restaurant: Everest, 85 Station St, Fairfield; ph 03 9482 2583.

The Warburton Quarter Revisited

2011-03-18T21:38:00.001+11:00

Last year, for a bit of fun, I created the concept of The Warburton Quarter of Melbourne; you can read my original post here. It's the stretch of Little Bourke Street that runs from Elizabeth Street for about 80 metres to the junction with Warburton Alley and Warburton Lane, including these and the other three alleys that run to either side.

I labelled it thus because it's a vibrant little zone next to where I live, which seems to have more of its share of cool cafes and bars, and interesting shops.

But change comes to us all, even to the Quarter. Here's an update...

Manchester Press, 8 Rankins Lane
The memorable gallery/cafe Brood Box sadly closed down last year, and the space was empty for months. Then, a few weeks ago, we noticed a new sign pointing down the laneway. The new cafe, Manchester Press, makes great use of the old warehouse space by decking it out in a pseudo-industrial design. Solid timber tables, big metal lampshades, and for some reason a giant bowling pin in one corner. The coffee and food is good, with a focus on bagels.

Little Mule, 19 Somerset Place
This new shop has it all - if you're keen on both bicycles and coffee. That's right: it's simultaneously a business that builds custom-made bikes, and a place that serves coffee and food. The two combine in its simple interior, a scattering of benches and sofas with bicycles literally hanging off the walls. Great place.

Shanghai Street, 342 Little Bourke Street
This is our new favourite excuse for not cooking dinner. Situated almost directly beneath our apartment, it's a simple Chinese restaurant that does a good line in dumplings. We've used them so much now that we've graduated to the practice of ringing our order through then slipping downstairs to collect it. My hot tip is the fried pork mini-buns (item 5 to its friends).

Enjoy!

Read my introduction to The Warburton Quarter here.

The Alphabet Dinners: D is for Don Tojo

2011-03-15T22:05:00.002+11:00

In The Alphabet Dinners series, I review the cheap restaurants of Melbourne... in alphabetical order.

I had a slight problem in browsing the D section of the Age Cheap Eats for this week's review: once I'd removed all the bars, cafes and places not open on a Tuesday evening, there wasn't much left.

So by near default I was meeting my friends Craig and Julia at Don Tojo, a cheap Japanese place in Carlton. Not on the famous Lygon Street, however, but a block away on Cardigan Street where presumably the rents are cheaper.

It's easy enough for Carlton's many students to find, of course, and has an attractively simple and cheap menu.

The interior is interesting too - a big industrial-type space with art splashed across the walls.

To start, a Kirin beer. Not, frankly, Japan's greatest gift to the world - Kirin is like the Japanese equivalent of Fosters, mainstream and fairly tasteless. However, it's palatable enough.

Then the teriyaki chicken don. Didn't look that spectacular but was very good - subtle teriyaki flavour, nicely cooked chicken and sticky rice, zapped up a bit by the spicy orange sprinkly stuff in a bowl on the counter.

And then the weird stuff. I ordered the soba noodle salad as an intended side dish, and it was very curious indeed. Contained noodles, tofu, tomatoes, cucumber, mushrooms, rockmelon, lettuce and kiwifruit. Interesting. You had to give it points for variety. Also looked quite healthy, all things considered.

A good restaurant for a cheap post-work meal, all in all. Its kitchens closed at 8.30pm so we slipped around the corner to the Carlton Yacht Club bar for a strengthening cocktail. Which cost as much as the whole meal at Don Tojo.

The Bill: $18
The Restaurant: Don Tojo, 164 Cardigan St, Carlton.

The Alphabet Dinners: C is for Cherry Tree Hotel

2011-03-09T20:13:00.009+11:00

In The Alphabet Dinners series, I review the cheap restaurants of Melbourne... in alphabetical order.

Pub food is always good for a satisfying informal meal out; as long as the pub is a good one, of course. The Cherry Tree Hotel is a thoroughly gentrified pub in the formerly industrial part of Richmond that lies to the west of the old Bryant & May match factory on Church Street.

In fact, I think this bit of Richmond west of the railway line which heads to South Yarra is called Cremorne. In early colonial times, before the factories, there was a train station here which people used to access a riverside circus, or so I remember reading.

By coincidence, a branch of my gym is actually inside the old Bryant & May complex, which is now a business park, so I was able to do a workout before strolling here for dinner through the rain.

It's hard to say how old the pub is. At a guess I'd say 1930s, but for all I know it's been remodelled a dozen times from an older building. The front bar is now decked out in a faintly retro manner, with lots of timber tabletops and low lounges.

What to choose from the big menu chalked on the wall? I like to show you at least a starter and a main in these reviews, but the menu here was basically divided into snacks and mains.

So first up I ordered the sausage rolls as a starter, not quite knowing what to expect. What I got was pretty simple, as you can see below - five little sausage roll segments and tomato sauce. They were pretty good for sausage rolls, but nothing to blow one's mind.

The main, however, added some much needed excitement. It was a Thai beef salad, and a damn good one. Nice tender slices of medium rare beef, fresh capsicum and lettuce, slightly crunchy noodles, lots of peanuts, lemon juice (I think), and a nice chilli bite. Fresh, tasty, fantastic.

And to drink? A crisply bitter India Pale Ale from my old haunt, the Holgate Brewery in Woodend. Just the right match for the chilli.

The Bill: $37.
The Restaurant: Cherry Tree Hotel, 53 Balmain St, Richmond; ph 03 9428 5743.

Melbourne Literary 2: The Bookish Story Continues

2011-03-04T15:30:00.000+11:00

This week's guest blogger is fantasy novelist Narrelle M Harris, author of the Melbourne Literary app for the iPhone and iPad. Last week she shared with us a few of her favourite literary things; here's a few more...

Sisters in Crime
sistersincrime.org.au

In Melbourne, there is a group of fabulous women with murder on their mind. The members of Sisters in Crime are lively, funny readers and writers of crime fiction, and very supportive of local book folks.

They (and their male counterparts, Brothers in Law) have given me advice, support and fellowship and a darn good laugh. They’ve also introduced me to existing writers through their meetings, and to new writers through their Scarlet Stiletto Awards.

Magic Pudding Sculpture
Royal Botanic Gardens, Birdwood Ave, Melbourne

It’s Sam Sawnoff, Bill Barnacle, Bunyip Bluegum and the Albert the Magic Pudding! As a gorgeous little statue! Hello happy literary childhood memories in 3D! The statue of these classic Australian characters is in the Children’s Garden at the entry to the Royal Botanic Gardens, and around the corner from the Observatory Cafe.

The Nicholas Building
37 Swanson St, Melbourne

One day, someone with enough money will buy this wonderful old building and refurbish it, and then all the writers, artists, publishers, artisans and generally wonderful creative people within will have to leave. That will be sad, because I will be one of their number.

I share my writing space (commonly referred to as The Garret, because every writer should have one) in this 1920s classic with three other people. I love my neighbours. I love Dimitri and Joan, who run the two manual lifts. I even love the rats who live in the alley behind the Nicholas Building. As long as they don’t actually try to move into The Garret with us.

Melbourne General Cemetery
College Crescent, Parkville
Ph: +61 3 9349 3014

I love looking for clues about the past lives of the people interred here, all these strangers I’ll never know. Some graves have a mark of their inhabitants’ former careers – jockey’s saddles, or billiard cues. Some inscriptions tell you about the person, or about the ones they left behind.

There are so many stories told in stone. Some statues remind me of the angels from Dr Who’s Blink and some make me think of zombie films. Some make me sad, some make me laugh. All of them make me think that I’d like my epitaph to read: Here Lies Narrelle Harris. Full Stop. With maybe a QWERTY keyboard etched into the marble.

Word and Way
Heffernan Lane, Melbourne

I stumbled across this installation during one of my forays into Chinatown to find the latest, hottest alleyway cocktail bar. The artwork looks like regular street signs, but offers philosophical thoughts on life, and translations of China’s Lao Tzu and Greece’s Heraclitus.

There are all kinds of wonderful, secret parts of this city, where art or architecture can take you by surprise. Before you know it, you’re having a moment of reflection on the street in the middle of a major city. This is one of my favourite literary curios.

You can read part one of this literary guide here. If you're interested in finding out more about Narrelle's Melbourne Literary app, click here: www.iwriter.com.au/apps

The Alphabet Dinners: B is for Bande à Part

2011-03-01T21:49:00.000+11:00

OK, so if you cast your mind back to last week, you'll remember my new Tuesday evening pastime... picking a cheap eatery from The Age Cheap Eats guide each week in alphabetical order, then eating and blogging.

All up to speed? Good. So this week... B is for Bande à Part.

Named after a 1964 film directed by Jean-Luc Godard (or so Wikipedia suggests), this is one of those 21st century pizzerias that makes pizzas with a fascinating array of fresh ingredients. Away, tinned pineapple!

I'll get to the food in a moment. Unfortunately this so-cool eatery in a deep Carlton North shopfront suffered from some of the standard problems found in so-cool eateries and bars. To wit:

The door was open on a cold evening, so we were pretty cold. I'm always whinging about Melbourne cafes leaving doors open in cold weather, so rest assured this place is not alone re this particular sin (BTW my Mum was with me, visiting from Perth. Having Tuesday dinner with your Mum isn't exactly inner-city cutting-edge and cool, but what the hell.)
The waiters were coolly efficient rather than friendly.
The music was too loud for easy conversation.
The light was too dark to read the menu easily.
The menu was displayed in a tiny serif-packed font that was difficult to read in the prevailing light conditions.

Having said all that, the food was good; though you're going to have to excuse the quality of my iPhone photography this week, as the iPhone 3GS camera is pretty poor in low light.

First up was a "salad" of fried haloumi cheese served with flatbread, slices of fresh beetroot and fresh mint. I forgot to take a picture of it on its original plate, so here's half of it on my own plate. Very tasty, all ingredients making their presence felt.

A glass of the house red arrived, some species of sangiovese which was rather good.

Then the main, a large Ring of Fire pizza. Great name, though one was initially suspicious it might be one of those insanely hot dishes that young blokes eat to prove their manhood. But no, it was a nicely judged mix of tomato, buffalo mozzarella, char-grilled peppers, spanish onion, oregano and chilli oil; spicy but not crazily so. Also aesthetically pleasing, dominated by different shades and textures of red.

And here's a bonus: Mum's Mushroom pizza with tomato, stracchino cheese, mushrooms, garlic and parsley.

The generous scattering of fresh parsley made it look visually pleasing, though Mum did comment that it wasn't as flavoursome as she expected after the haloumi. That's a common drawback with gourmet pizzas, I find - they have high quality, subtly flavoured fresh ingredients, but that subtlety means they rarely pack the flavour punch of your classic capricciosa.

Overall though, a good meal and well made.

The Bill: $54 for two.
The Restaurant: Bande à Part, 749 Nicholson St, Carlton North; ph 03 9388 8950.

Melbourne Literary 1: Story of a Bookish City

2011-02-24T16:27:00.000+11:00

This week's guest blogger is fantasy novelist Narrelle M Harris, author of the Melbourne Literary app for the iPhone and iPad.

Melbourne, Australia is a UNESCO City of Literature, which means it’s packed to the gills with wonderful bookshops, writers, publishers and writing organisations.

Basically, it’s a word nerd’s paradise; so when I decided to create an iPhone/iPad application, Melbourne Literary, to showcase all the wonderful wordy things about Melbourne, it was easy to know where to start. Let me share with you a few of my favourite literary things...

State Library of Victoria
328 Swanston St, Melbourne
Ph: +61 3 8664 7000

The State Library is glorious. Elegant architecture, a superb collection of reference material, an atmosphere steeped in radical, deep, amazing thoughts and ideas – what’s not to adore? The domed reading room is bathed in natural light and fitted out with gorgeous wooden tables with power points, so you can use your high-tech in a classic setting.

As the icing on this cake, the State Library also contains the Wheeler Centre and a number of associated writing organisations offering a calendar of literary talks and events.

You can replenish your reading strength at the café attached to the north wing, Mr Tulk (named after the institution's first librarian).On sunny weekends, you can sprawl on the slope of lush green grass out the front and read, spy on what the other loiterers are reading, or watch the pigeons despoil the statuary.

Miss Marple’s Tea Room
382 Mount Dandenong Tourist Rd, Sassafras
Ph: +61 3 9755 1610

This old-fashioned tea room out in the Dandenong Ranges is kind of cheesy, I know, but I have a sentimental attachment to Miss Marple’s. It’s one of the first placed I visited when I first moved to Melbourne, in the company of dear friends who were making us welcome to our new home town.

I can’t resist the call of waitresses dressed as respectable English parlour maids, serving giant freshly-baked scones while photographs of Miss Marple cast a benevolent yet spritely eye over the proceedings.

Miss Marple’s always reminds me of one of the later Marple books, At Bertram’s Hotel, because Bertram’s was also an establishment that operated long past its appropriate time period. It’s a bit touristy, but it’s also a bit like theatre. We’re all play-acting in the background of a Christie novel. And the scones are delicious.

Metropolis
252 Swanston St, Melbourne
Ph: +61 3 9663 2015

On the third floor of one of Melbourne’s ‘vertical laneways’ is my favourite place to find gifts for people who allegedly have everything. I first visited Metropolis when it lived on Acland Street in St Kilda. The current shop’s loftier elevation has provided it with more light through large windows.

The shelves are chock full of books on design, art, burlesque, music, mid-20th century advertising and quirky greeting cards. When I have no idea what to get for someone, I visit Metropolis and find something unexpected and fascinating. And then I have to make myself give it away.

The Drunken Poet
65 Peel St, West Melbourne
Ph: +61 3 9348 9797

Actually, I only discovered the Drunken Poet after I had started compiling the Melbourne Literary app. I went along to a friend’s farewell drinks to discover a lovely little pub with a lively, friendly atmosphere, framed faces of poets lining the walls and no television. Let me say that again – NO TELEVISION.

I am, sadly, a bit easily distracted by colourful things moving about in my peripheral vision, so the infestation of television sets in pubs, with the sound turned down but flickering away, both distracts and irritates me. At The Drunken Poet, there are no distractions from good company and a decent beer, unless you count the occasional live band.

I've only identified about half the poets that hang on the walls, but I’m content knowing Oscar Wilde is gazing down upon us, no doubt wondering why we’re all talking such rubbish...

Next week: Narrelle continues her exploration of Melbourne's literary gems, including a magically-gifted dessert, a group of crime-loving women, and an alleyway full of mysterious words. If you're interested in finding out more about Narrelle's Melbourne Literary app, click here: www.iwriter.com.au/apps

The Alphabet Dinners: A is for Arda

2011-02-22T22:18:00.001+11:00

Two lady novelists are responsible for this new twist in my blogging.

The first is Narrelle Harris, my other half and author of the fabulous vampire novel The Opposite of Life (ask for it at all good bookshops). Because Narrelle takes herself off each Tuesday night to a writing lair elsewhere in the city, I'm at a loose end after spending all day working at home.

The other is Agatha Christie. The earliest work of hers I read was The ABC Murders, a chilling account of a serial killer who selected his victims purely by the alphabetical order of their names.

I liked this arbitrary device. So I've decided that, on Tuesday evenings when I'm in Melbourne, I'll select a restaurant from The Age Cheap Eats guide, eat there and blog about it. And I'll select each eatery - follow me closely here - in alphabetical order.

So... this week A is for Arda, a Turkish restaurant in Caulfield, reached by a train to Elsternwick then a number 67 tram. While I was waiting for the delayed 67, a strange apparition appeared - an old wooden W-Class Tram, marked as a number 78 and clearly very lost. I dared not step aboard, lest it prove the Flying Dutchman of trams, doomed forever to trundle through the city's southeast backwaters.

The restaurant was your standard suburban ethnic eatery, with fairly plain tables in a narrow shopfront, but also with a lengthy menu of kebab and 'Turkish pizza' variants.

First up, a side of tabouli (above). The parsley was cut a bit coarser than usual, but I liked it like that - gave it a hint of homemade authenticity. A little too salty, but lots of crunchy texture.

Then the main, iskender kebab. I'd had this before at our local Turkish when we lived in Richmond years ago. It consists of strips of lamb, sliced from the rotisserie I assume, layered with yoghurt and a piquant tomato sauce, all on top of chunks of soft Turkish bread. Very tasty.

A dash of this chilli sauce added just a bit more bite, and contrasted nicely with the soothing yoghurt.

And for dessert, Turkish delight and Turkish coffee. Breaking my (poorly enforced) moratorium on caffeine after midday, but what the hell.

The Bill: $30.50
The Restaurant: Arda, 619 Glenhuntly Rd, Caulfield; ph 03 9530 0193.

Pieces of Daylesford

2011-02-18T15:12:00.002+11:00

Since the 19th century, the twin towns of Daylesford and Hepburn Springs, about 90km northwest of Melbourne, have attracted visitors wanting a brief escape from urban life.

The big drawcard, then and now, were the spa waters associated with the famous bathhouse in Hepburn Springs. The towns are also popular for their upmarket accommodation and dining.

For some reason, I hadn't been to Daylesford for six years before I dropped in last month for a few nights' stay. Partly I was there to write food and accommodation reviews for some of my regular outlets; and I was also fitting the last few pieces into my new iPhone/iPad app, Melbourne Getaways.

This travel guide for the smartphone lists over 200 sleeping, dining, shopping and sightseeing attractions outside Melbourne, and I had to include Daylesford's best places in the mix.

What did I find in Daylesford after such a long absence? Here's a small random sample...

1. The lemon verbena crème brûlée at the restaurant I reviewed for The Age, Perfect Drop. Just sensational.

2. This pig was decorating the pavement outside a garden nursery named Secret Garden.

3. Some of the handmade chocolates on sale at Chocorex, a new shopping centre inside the shell of the former Rex cinema.

4. I like a touch of communist retro design, but I didn't expect to find it in well-heeled Hepburn Springs. This is the exterior of the Red Star cafe.

5. Fancy spa! Set into a higher section of the split-level interior of my flash accommodation, Elira. The base is even ridged specifically so you can sit back comfortably and watch the TV in the next room.

6. Sometimes it's worth looking up. Here's the ornate ceiling of the Gourmet Larder cafe.

7. Finally, here's a close-up on the Alice in Wonderland chess pieces in my final accommodation, the fancy cottage called Hudson on Wombat.

(For more details of these and other Daylesford drawcards, download my Melbourne Getaways app)

Disclosure time... on this trip I was hosted by Tourism Victoria.

The Teardrop of Agra

2011-02-12T01:52:00.001+11:00

Bengali poet Rabindranath Tagore described the Taj Mahal as "a teardrop on the face of eternity", and his elegant phrasing came irresistibly to mind when I visited the famous Moghul tomb on Wednesday.

I arrived near the west gate of the complex before dawn on a chilly morning, dropped off by a tuk-tuk after a ride through scrappy narrow streets, dodging the rare passer-by and stray wandering dogs. Now I had to walk 200 metres or so down a dark laneway past closed restaurants and budget hotels to the gate.

There was a short queue waiting for the ticket office to open; so others had been told it was best to arrive early, before the dreaded tour groups arrived on day trips from Delhi. We waited in the cold night air under a slowly lightening sky set with stars, the Muslim call to prayer resounding nearby. It was, needless to say, atmospheric. And that was just the wait to buy tickets.

The Taj itself was marvellous; and, I was pleased to discover, just as beautiful close up as when seen from a distance across its ornamental ponds and gardens.

I won't write more here; rather, let me share some of my images of this stunning place, as the light subtly changed over a few hours in the early morning...

Disclosure time: On this trip I travelled to India courtesy of Thai Airways

Delhi: Waiting for The Moment

2011-02-04T20:18:00.001+11:00

New Delhi, India’s capital, is paradoxically both a very walkable city and a difficult place to get around on foot.

It’s walkable because the British built the spanking new capital for their Indian empire (inaugurated unwittingly in the last years of The Raj in 1931) on a very flat landscape south of old Delhi, and linked it with straight roads meeting at circular intersections.

That these roads are largely lined with shade trees, particularly in the residential areas, is another positive for the stroller.

There are some fine things to be seen on a walk through New Delhi’s streets. Yesterday, on a cool winter morning, I took a long walk from the Taj Mahal Hotel up to the monumental India Gate erected for India’s war dead after World War I; headed west along the broad ceremonial avenue known as the Rajpath toward the President’s residence; then north past the 18th century Jantar Mantar observatory into the commercial area centred on the concentric circles of Connaught Place.

It was an interesting walk, but with two challenges for the determined walker.

The first are the very many citizens of Delhi who wish to sell to the passing tourist their goods or services. Though generally good natured, they are persistent and it can be a challenge deciding how to deal with the non-stop offers, especially as you approach the touts’ paradise around Connaught Place.

In the course of a few hours I was offered many taxi rides and shoe shines, and a variety of products including the portable head massager, a kind of flexible metal whisk which is pushed down over your head to stimulate your scalp.

These traders can be a nuisance due to their sheer numbers. If you’re not interested in what they’re selling, however, a polite negative and then a steely determination not to engage any further, moving forward relentlessly, seems to do the trick.

The other challenge is not so easy to dismiss: the ferocious traffic which makes crossing a road here seem a Herculean task. There are many painted pedestrian across roads where there are no traffic lights, so there’s no guarantee of an enforced pause. At other places, there’s no designated crossing but a need to get across.

Standing for the first few times at the edge of a seemingly unceasing traffic flow, I felt puzzled as to how to proceed. Usually I’d keep an eye on my fellow pedestrians and cross (sometimes at speed) with them.

Then, on my own, I observed the traffic more closely and realised that the key was in recognising one thing: The Moment.

Inevitable, no matter how busy the traffic flow, there would come a moment when then was a gap in its pattern, long enough to allow one to get across the road. Sometimes The Moment was very clear - a large break in the traffic that allowed me to briskly walk across.

At other times The Moment might require a quick sprint. And there was occasionally The Hidden Moment: when the traffic flow seemed unabated but in fact contained a pattern of gaps that would allow one to alertly cross.

All the psychologists say we should be living more in the moment to aid our mental wellbeing. In New Delhi, being entirely focused on The Moment can also help you get around.

Disclosure time: On this trip I travelled to New Delhi courtesy of Thai Airways and received discounted accommodation at the Taj Mahal Hotel.

Note: If visiting Delhi and feeling indisposed to walking, I recommend hiring taxi driver Kapoor by ringing local mobile number 099 58637588. He's a good driver who can be hired for a few hours for a negotiated fee, or for short trips at the usual taxi meter rate.

The Unicycle Diaries 6: Kuala Lumpur Snapshots

2011-01-28T16:13:00.000+11:00

Was looking through my records and came across this diary scrap from a media trip to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia in early 2009. Add some photos and - bingo! - instant blog post. Hope you enjoy it...

Friday 6 February 2009

- Visit to Thean Hou, a big Taoist temple, decorated with lots of colourful figures for Chinese New year.

- Lunch at Menara KL, allegedly the fourth tallest tower in world, though a little shorter than the Petronas Towers. Revolving restaurant, choice of Malay or Western food. Lots of excellent choices involving curries, roti etc. Also desserts with a twist, like soupy durian and a creme caramel with strips of banana baked on the top.

- Visited the amazing Starlight Gallery mall on Bukit Bintang. Was sceptical at first (not being a keen shopper), but its Feast level was impressive. It's a ritzy type of food hall, borrowing the hawkers' traditions and giving them the five star treatment.

The architecture draws largely on traditional Malay designs but uses unusual perspectives and arrangements to give them a thoroughly modern look. Wandering through Feast, down defined walkways that only reveal the next eatery once you’ve passed the previous one, is like walking through an Aladdin's Cave - dimly lit, cool, full of gleaming treasure.

- Skybar at Traders Hotel, 32nd floor. Spectacular! Has an open roof so the afternoon tropical rain falls through into the swimming area. Along the side are cushioned alcoves right up against the glass windows looking across to the Petronas Towers. Had a swim, then sat in alcove with a very nice martini and a book, occasionally glancing at the view.

- Staff at the hotel have the balance just right - they’re attentive and efficient without ever seeming obsequious. Being among Malaysians makes me feel cheerful, they're generally relaxed and open people. And you can't fault the view...

Tim Richards travelled courtesy of Tourism Malaysia and Malaysia Airlines.

Tea for Dessert in the High Country

2011-01-21T14:56:00.000+11:00

Tea for afters, anyone?

In last week's blog post, Naomi Ingleton of The Butter Factory in Myrtleford shared her recipes for goat stew and strawberry and buttermilk panna cotta.

But she's not finished yet. For that clean, sweet finish to a memorable meal, try whipping up this memorable parfait...

Green Tea Parfait

Ingredients
2 tablespoons green tea powder
4 tablespoons milk
500ml cream
5 egg whites
300g caster sugar
3 tablespoons water
30ml vodka
Juice of 1 lime
1 Granny Smith apple
1 cup caster sugar

Method
Make a paste with the green tea powder and milk.

Beat cream until thick, then refrigerate.

Line a terrine tray with cling film (I find it helps to lightly oil the tray and push the wrap into the corners).

Place 300g sugar and water in a pot and bring to 130°C.

Whisk egg whites to a stiff peak.

When sugar reaches the above temperature, add the lime juice and vodka and bring to boil again. Slowly add this to egg whites, keep whisking until egg white mix cools (about 5 minutes).

Add green tea paste to the egg whites and mix thoroughly, gently fold in the cream. Place in the mould and freeze overnight.

Slice the apples very thinly and brush with lemon juice. Place on a wire rack and put in a cool oven for at least 8 hours, until dry.

Make a caramel with the sugar and dip the apple chips into the liquid caramel and put straight into iced water to set, remove immediately and drain on rack.

Unmould and slice parfait to desired size, and place apple chips on top. Serve immediately.

Enjoy!

Guest recipe blogger Naomi Ingleton is owner and chef at The Butter Factory, 15 Myrtle St, Myrtleford.

To read my article on the food and wine of Victoria's High Country region in the January 2011 issue of Virgin Blue's inflight magazine, click here (then jump to page 62).

[Photo credit: By たね, GFDL or CC-BY-SA-3.0, via Wikimedia Commons]

The Goat in the Pot in the High Country

2011-01-14T16:13:00.002+11:00

Lick your lips! In the course of researching a feature article on the fantastic food and wine of Victoria's High Country region, I contacted wunderchef Naomi Ingleton of The Butter Factory in Myrtleford to ask if I could reprint a few of her recipes.

In the end, the magazine I was writing for didn't use them - but Naomi has kindly given me permission to reproduce them here. Fire up the stove, get out the olive oil... and don't forget to pick up goat for our very first dish...

Nug Nug Goat Stew with Grilled Vegetables & Spaetzle

Ingredients

Stew
500g primal goat cuts, diced
1 brown onion, diced
2 cloves of garlic, crushed
1 carrot, diced
2 celery sticks, diced
2 bulls horn peppers, red
2 green zucchini
½ cup fresh green peas
1 bay leaf
1 cup dry white wine
1 litre goat or chicken stock

Spaetzle
1 cup plain flour
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon ground pepper
½ teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 large eggs
¼ cup milk

Method
In a heavy based pot fry onion, garlic, carrot and celery. Add goat and fry until browned, deglaze with white wine. Add the stock and bay leaf, cover and simmer until meat is tender, add the peas at the end.

Halve and seed the peppers, quarter the zucchini and grill.

To make the spaetzle, sift the dry ingredients, make a well in the middle and combine with the milk and eggs. If you do not have a spaetzle maker (like a cheese grater with a dough catcher) you can use a piping bag over hot water to make the little dumplings.

To serve the stew, add a little of the noodles to a bowl, drape the stew over the top and arrange the grilled vegetables.

And for dessert...

Strawberry & Buttermilk Panna Cotta

500ml buttermilk
250ml cream
3 gelatine leaves
¼ cup strawberry puree
2 tablespoons sugar
Strawberries for garnish

Soak the gelatine leaves in water to soften, do not use hot water. Warm the buttermilk (if you do not have access to buttermilk use pouring cream instead), cream and sugar in a heavy based saucepan and add the softened gelatine.

Mix in the berry puree and pour into Dariole moulds, or you could use teacups if you do not have the moulds. Refrigerate overnight.

Run a small knife around the edge of the mould and gently tip the set panna cotta onto a plate. You can decorate with some berry coulis or just the strawberries.

Guest recipe blogger Naomi Ingleton is owner and chef at The Butter Factory, 15 Myrtle St, Myrtleford.

To read my article on the food and wine of Victoria's High Country region in the January 2011 issue of Virgin Blue's inflight magazine, click here (then jump to page 62).

Canberra: On Christmas Day (in the Morning)

2010-12-26T15:01:00.001+11:00

If serenity and tranquillity are what you crave at Xmas, rather than the chaos of ringing cash registers and surging shopping crowds, you could do worse than hang around the Canberra city centre on the morning of Christmas Day itself.

We're in Australia's national capital to spend Xmas with my wife Narrelle's family, which includes a multitude of her nephews, nieces, brothers and her Mum, along with the various in-laws.

As we had time to kill before we met up with them on the 25th, we wandered the deserted streets of downtown Canberra City (formerly known as Civic) and took photos of architecture and street art.

Using images taken from Narrelle's iPhone, here's a quick tour:

1. The colonnade along the side of the Melbourne Building, whose facade has a vaguely Spanish Mission feel. This was one of the very first buildings erected in the new city in 1927, along with its mirror-image counterpart across the road, the Sydney Building.

On a wall inside the colonnade is interpretive signage which bears a pic of the building in 1927, then standing in open fields. Apparently people used to trap rabbits nearby at the time.

2. An old-fashioned mall called Petrie Plaza is nearby, and this is some of the art painted onto its concrete planters. Can you recognise any of these famous faces? (he said, feeling a bit clueless... though, er, I think that's Kylie Minogue on the lower right...)

3. Another fragment of the art. Note the clever juxtaposition of image and adjacent surface.

4. A merry-go-round (or carousel) in the middle of the Plaza; Narrelle tells me it's been there for ages, at least since she lived in Canberra in the 1980s.

5. This is a piece of street art entitled On the Staircase. According to the notation, the artist was reflecting on the notion: "The more I read, the smaller I feel". Interesting.

6. Fascinating pair of missile-like pieces of art further on. No signage to be seen, but it was fun trying to take photos of them without catching our own reflections.

7. Later in the day, we had Xmas dinner with the extended Harris family. The festivities concluded with the destruction of a piñata in the shape of Santa Claus. A little weird, but fun.

I love this photo of our niece Keziah - it looks like a publicity shot for a challenging new arthouse movie by a talented but edgy young director. Could be big at Cannes!

And with that, we come to the end of my 50th blog posting for 2010. I’m taking a short break, but will post again in mid-January 2011. See you then... and happy travels in the meantime!

This post was sponsored by HotelClub. Check out its site for deals on Canberra hotels, including hotels in the Canberra city centre.

The Unpublished 9: Dreaming of a Hot Xmas

2010-12-22T18:10:00.004+11:00

A few years ago I had a go at selling a seasonal story on Australia's Christmas traditions to a bunch of US publications.

No-one took up the offer, but in the spirit of the season I'd now like to share my Down Under festive musings with you. Merry Xmas!

Something’s wrong here. It’s the holiday season, and I can see Christmas trees, tinsel, and greeting cards with Santa and snow.

But outside, the thermometer is heading towards the 90s [the 30s in Celcius], the hot sun beats down and there’s not a reindeer to be seen.

Are you dreaming of a white Christmas? You won’t find it in Australia. As the land Down Under has opposite seasons to countries in the Northern Hemisphere, its holiday season falls right in the middle of its hot, dry summer.

Tinsel in the sunshine

But this meteorological fact opens the door to a Christmas with a difference. Many Australian families still celebrate the day with the traditional roast dinner, but an outdoor barbecue and salads are just as likely. Then it’s off to a swim at the local beach after lunch. The majority of people live near beaches of the white-sand variety, so they’re an essential component of summer.

The most famous beach is Bondi, located on Sydney’s Pacific coast. This is where the beach volleyball took place at the 2000 Olympics. Bondi is the classic Aussie beach, with surf lifesavers patrolling an area between two flags, ready to pluck weak swimmers from the waves at the first sign of trouble.

The holiday season contrasts don’t end there. The usual images of a fur-bedecked Santa and his reindeer are to be seen on greeting cards, but he also gets into the beach act, with a team of kangaroos pulling his sleigh, or surfing on a beach in his hat and a pair of bright red shorts. Likewise, snow-like tinsel hangs shimmering above shopping strips in the bright sunlight.

Sporting fixtures

But if you want to experience the full Aussie Christmas, there’s more to it than beaches. Aussies are sports-crazy, and some major events on the sporting calendar take place at the end of the year. Starting on the day after Christmas (known as Boxing Day), the annual Sydney to Hobart yacht race pits sailors against dangerous seas, with festivities at either end of the 628 nautical mile route.

If you’ve ever wondered about the mysteries of the game of cricket, Melbourne is the place to find out. Each year, the Boxing Day Test takes place at the iconic Melbourne Cricket Ground, a stadium located just outside the city centre. It’s an international match, with Australia playing an opponent in a game that takes several days to resolve.

It doesn’t matter too much if you find the rules incomprehensible - sitting in the sunshine with a drink and a traditional meat pie is a pleasant way to pass the day. Just cheer whenever the Aussies do.

Outdoor performance

Culture isn’t neglected in Australia’s cities, with Sydney’s annual festival of the arts taking place in January. Many of its events are free and held outdoors. Outdoor theater also takes place in parks in all major cities, including light-hearted productions of Shakespeare, and children’s classics like The Wind in the Willows.

Crowds also gather for outdoor carol-singing events by candlelight. In Melbourne, thousands sing along with local musicians, performing both modern and traditional Christmas carols in the Kings Domain park. The carol-singing tradition, begun in the 1930s, has spread throughout Australia, with even small towns staging their own event.

There are even Australian Christmas carols, including an Aussie version of The Twelve Days of Xmas in which “My true love sent to me, A kookaburra in a gum tree”. And The Three Drovers puts an Aussie spin on the more traditional shepherds (drovers are local versions of cowboys).

Chilled out, festive style

And New Year’s Eve is spectacular when viewed across Sydney Harbor on a balmy evening with a beer in hand, while watching fireworks explode over the famous Opera House.

The sort of relaxed, friendly mood you’d expect at holiday time is present, amplified by the benefits of Australia’s warm, dry summers: sandy beaches, barbecues, beer gardens outside local pubs, fresh seafood, good wine and life lived in the open.

But in the end, the holiday season is the same Down Under as in the rest of the world. People ease off from their office work, chill out, spend time with their families and celebrate the hope of a brand new year.

The Unpublished is a random series comprising my never-published travel articles. For previous instalments, click on the The Unpublished Topic tag below, then scroll down.

Eat, Write, Win 2: Peru

2010-12-16T10:52:00.004+11:00

Earlier this month I ran a competition in which I asked my readers to relate their most memorable food/drink experiences while travelling.

The prize, generously donated by Lonely Planet, is a copy of Lonely Planet's Best in Travel 2011.

While there were some fine entries which I ran last week, the winner is this week's evocative account of a day in Peru, walking through ruins and feasting on alpaca.

Congratulations to winning writer Rosanne Bersten, and to all who entered!

4. Alpaca for Afters, from Rosanne Bersten

It had been a long, long day. We were in Pisac, a lovely, tiny town of only 2000 souls in the sacred valley between Cusco and Macchu Piccu in Peru. The main square was entirely taken up by a colourful market selling everything from jewellery to backpacks and more.

It started to pour so we bought some rain gear from the nearby gear shop and I bought an alpaca wool backpack from a man wearing camposino traditional clothing.

In the afternoon, as the sun came out, we went to walk up the mountain to las ruinas, but a man we had bought a wall hanging from asked us where we were going and told us it was too far to walk.

He said we needed to get a taxi from near the bridge back through the town, but then a woman from the next stall said, “Taxi?” and he explained what we wanted and she said her husband drove a taxi.

They knocked on the door of the house we were in front of, and a guy came out. They asked him about the taxi, he named a price, we bartered down a bit because we only wanted a lift up not there and back and we walked 100 metres to his cab and were on our way.

As we wound our way around about 20 switchbacks we started to understand and appreciate the kindness of our stallholder. The ruins are at around 3200 metres above sea level and we were starting right at the river floor.

They are stunning feats of architecture: terracing down the mountainside for agriculture, enormous stones dragged into position for housing and a temple of the sun, tunnels in the mountainside.

After climbing one very steep staircase and coming over a hill, we encountered an incredible astronomical observatory, doorways carefully placed at 15 degree angles to withstand earthquakes and stones placed with amazing precision.

As we were marvelling at the Incan ingenuity, a schoolboy came up the hill from Pisac. “Hola,” he said. “Hola,” I responded. And still in Spanish, “Do you live up here?” “Yes, but higher.” “Is it good?” “Yes.”

He kept going. We soon encountered another. The same conversation, but then:
“How many people live up there?”
“In my village? 200.”
“And do you walk up this hill every day?”
“Yes, every day I go down and I return.” (This is a 4km walk he was talking about!)
“Do you like it here?”
“Yes. Don’t you?”
“Yes, but I’m from Australia and I live near the sea. This is very high for me.”
“Ah,” he said. “Do you know much about this place?”
“A little,” I said. “I know that this is the temple of the sun and I think it was built around the 15th century.”
“Could be,” he said.
“And I think that building there is older.”
“Yes,” he said. “I think it’s from around the 12th century.”
“Could be,” he said.
“Well, have a good day,” I said.
“Ciao!” and he was off, climbing the way we had come.

We wended our way down the mountain, another hour or so down. The sun had set by the time we got to the bottom and we were happy and tired. This was bliss.

We definitely felt like we were on a honeymoon adventure now. We had learnt how to say we were newlyweds in Spanish and that this was our luna de miel and we were starting to get “Felicitations!” from the locals.

Back in Pisac, we wanted a drink for our tired muscles. I suggested we investigate Mullu, an alternative cafe recommended by our Lonely Planet bible. On the front of the building was a knotted snake eating its tail. We could hear the chill out music wafting down the stairs.

The room we were in was airy but cosy because of the dimmed lights and the rugs. It was hard to choose from the menu but I had a commitment to eating local meats, and I’d already had the guinea pig in Lima.

The food was amazing! For me, the most incredible alpaca ribs in sauco berry and red wine sauce, with mash and alpaca ravioli, with passionfruit dressing for my partner.

The alpaca was rich and soft, with every bite delectable. I never wanted the meal to end. As a cleanser, I had mandarin and lime juice with ginger and honey - mmm!

And then we went back to our gorgeous little hostel and snuggled in for the night, ready to wake early and catch the bus to Ollantaytambo. A wonderful, wonderful day.

Read Rosanne's blog.

Eat, Write, Win 1: USA, Italy & Croatia

2010-12-10T16:11:00.003+11:00

Melbourne Anthropomorphic

2010-12-06T17:30:00.000+11:00

Melbourne, Australia is famous for its busy events calendar, a never-ending annual succession of events that range from the big (the Melbourne International Comedy Festival, for example) to the boutique (such as the Scarf Festival - no, really).

One of its least-known annual events, and one of its most intriguing, is Midfur. Taking place each December, it’s Australia’s premier “furry” convention.

And before you let your imagination run away with you, let me explain - “furries” are fans of anthropomorphic art.

Anthro-what? It’s art which mixes human personalities and animal forms - the most famous of which would be animated characters such as Donald Duck or Bugs Bunny. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles also fit the mould, as does the rabbit samurai comic book character Usagi Yojimbo.

It’s a popular form, but its fandom has a lower profile. At an event like Midfur, attendees meet other fans, buy comic books starring animal-based characters, attend panels that relate to their interests, and meet special guests. And some of them wear fursuits, amazing human-sized costumes that resemble an animal in humanoid form (more of these later).

Last Saturday I spent the day at Midfur. I’ve been to the odd science fiction convention in my time, and on the surface this event was similar, with panels taking place in various function rooms, and a dealers’ area selling a range of merchandise.

What made it different from SF events was also what made it most interesting. For a start, the crowd was younger than that at the average science fiction convention, and it was notably friendly and mellow.

The most interesting panel I attended was presented by a University of Melbourne lecturer. He took the ‘heroes and villains’ theme of the convention and applied it to the animal world, discussing parasites such as cuckoos, and the fascinating cooperation of the honey-guide bird and the badger-like ratel.

I was also fascinated by the fursuits. Some of these were extraordinary creations; one guy I spoke to was wearing a fox costume whose mouth moved when he spoke, and whose vulpine eyes hid minute indentations that allowed his human eyes to see through them. There was a photo call of costumes in the afternoon, and they were a remarkable collection when seen en masse.

It was interesting to note the variation in colours in these suits. Some were modelled on realistic hues, such as a fox fursuit I encountered with a convincing russet tone. Others drew on animated characters, choosing bright reds or blues. I even saw one who was a super-hero animal, neatly combining two great comic book traditions.

Kermit the frog famously said it wasn’t easy being green, and it probably isn’t easy being furry either, with all the potential for misunderstanding and ridicule by the wider world. But if you’re in Melbourne one December, and you’re a fan of anthropomorphic art, you could do worse than don a pair of rabbit ears and join the menagerie.

Midfur happens each December in Melbourne, Australia. For more details, visit www.midfur.com.au.

Lights! Camera! St Kilda!

2010-11-27T18:55:00.002+11:00

I spend yesterday afternoon in Melbourne's bayside suburb of St Kilda, being an unpaid extra.

Myself and dozens of other volunteers were taking part in crowd scenes for an episode of the upcoming Australian Broadcasting Corporation TV sitcom Outland.

Written by my brother John Richards and featuring the members of a gay science fiction fan club, it's a story about belonging, no matter who you are (according to the ABC's blurb).

The episodes mostly take place in characters' homes, but the final episode includes sequences played to the backdrop of a gay pride march in St Kilda.

So there we were in Catani Gardens, a beautiful stretch of parkland by the sea which was decked out with multi-coloured banners. Many volunteers had put in an effort to look fabulous, wearing an assortment of feathers, leather, PVC and/or nun's habits.

The ABC's art department had produced a fascinating array of placards for extras to carry, bearing slogans from the topical ("Gay Marriage Rights Now") to the slightly surreal ("Adam and Steve in the Garden of Even"). I was at first carrying a placard adorned with a rainbow-coloured heart, then later a placard with a mystifying symbol. Maybe it'll all make sense on screen.

While we milled and mimed, the paid actors (including singer Christine Anu) performed scenes in lurid purple sci-fi uniforms. They looked lovey. Well, lovely-ish. As lovely as one can look in a purple knee-length frock.

The interesting thing is that this isn't the only time I've seen a TV episode filmed in St Kilda. A few years ago I was walking along the Esplanade above the iconic Luna Park and Palais Theatre, to see a collection of characters dressed in 1920s gear being filmed, along with period cars. I realised years later that they were filming an episode of Stephen King's Nightmares and Dreamscapes.

St Kilda is also famous of course as the setting for the popular TV drama series The Secret Life of Us which screened a few years ago. It seemed as if an episode of Secret Life was incomplete if the characters didn't play a casual game of soccer in Catani Gardens.

And I also once stumbled across a film set in Little Lonsdale Street in Melbourne's downtown area, which turned out to be part of Ghost Rider, starring Nicholas Cage.

In fact, with big movie studios located in Melbourne's Docklands, you have a decent chance of bumping into exterior scenes of a movie or TV series being shot in the city's streets - and you can read more about that in this posting at at John Richards' Outland Institute blog.

But remember to present your best side to the cameras. Annnnnnnnnnnnnnd - action!

Streetscapes of Sydney's West

2010-11-20T17:57:00.002+11:00

Another month, another conference in Sydney - at least, my second in three months. And as I usually do on these occasions, I've been wandering around interesting bits of the city's inner suburbs.

Here are some photos of the streets of Pyrmont and Glebe, former working class suburbs (now thoroughly gentrified) just west of Sydney's downtown area...

1. I liked the look of this stretch of Harris Street, Pyrmont. It tells you so much about the suburb's trajectory, from the derelict corner shop to the cool modern cafe just a few doors on. Out of shot is the Terminus Hotel, a pub which has been closed since the 1980s and bears period signage on its ivy-covered facade.

2. This is Glebe Point Road in Glebe. I love the building on the right, now housing a Thai restaurant; it's markedly grander than its neighbours.

3. This pic just speaks "gentrified suburb" to me: the old building, the playful use of the word "junk", the flower baskets hanging in front of it...

4. Spotted this attractive mural referencing Aboriginal legends on the side of a shopfront...

5. This bar brightens up the street with an non-traditional colour on a traditional facade...

6. This greengrocer's obviously survived the transition from a working class clientele to the organic-aware residents of today. Either that, or the owner is a clever marketer - it looks exactly like the sort of Stuff White People Like.

7. Finally, the Pudding Shop. How could you go pass a sign like that?

Shakespeare Untranslated: To See, or Not to See?

2010-11-12T12:58:00.003+11:00

To be, or not to be? To see, or not see a Shakespeare play in a foreign language? Now, that really is the question.

When travelling in a country with a different language from your own, a lot of its culture is still open to you.

Music and dance are no problem, opera is OK, and films might have subtitles. However, theatre is a problem, so reliant it is upon language.

But I love theatre, so I've always been keen to see it when travelling, if I can.

A few years ago, I hit on a solution to the language barrier - choose a Shakespeare play you're familiar with that's being performed in a foreign language, so at least you know the plot.

That frees you to focus on the acting, intonation, costumes, set design, direction and other elements without feeling bemused by the storyline. And if you know a little of the local language, you can still pick up something of what's being said.

Here's some of the foreign-language Shakespeare I've caught over the years:

The Merchant of Venice in Japanese

I caught this production in 2001 at The Other Place, which was then a secondary venue used by the Royal Shakespeare Company at Stratford-upon-Avon, UK, the Bard's hometown. To be precise, it was a Japanese production with a Romanian director, staged by the Euro-Japan Theatre Organisation.

It was great - the costumes were particularly memorable, an eye-catching mix of traditional and modern (eg Lorenzo in Japanese robes with a biker's jacket on top).

Antony and Cleopatra in Italian

Well, it's a perfect fit, isn't it? Saw this in 2001 in a magnificent horseshoe-shaped old theatre in Rome - the sort of place you imagine opera being performed. It was done in a striking modern style on a candlelit stage - the men in Zegna suits, the women in classy black dresses.

The Tempest in Lithuanian

When I saw the poster for Burza in the Polish city of Toruń, with Shakespeare's name attached, I was puzzled as to which play it was. A look at my Polish dictionary produced the translation "storm" - of course, it's The Tempest! It was being staged in 2008 as part of the city's annual Kontakt festival (see the cool poster above). Kontakt started in 1991, and primarily aims to bring together great theatre work from Western and Eastern Europe.

To aid comprehension, patrons hired little radio-pickup boxes with headphones, which played live translation of the Lithuanian delivery into Polish, Russian and English. I did occasionally dip into the Russian, just because it sounded so portentous.

A Midsummer Night's Dream in Polish

All that time in Poland, and I finally got to see a Shakespeare work in Polish in 2007, courtesy of the much-respected Stary Teatr. It was magnificent. Working from a fresh translation (a luxury we English-speakers don't have), the company produced an edgy work in upmarket contemporary costumes and settings, laced with black humour.

The company managed the impressive feat of turning Shakespeare's famous comedy into something dark and uncomfortable. The scene directly after the four lovers are released from their magical enchantments was pricelessly awkward, and reminded the viewer that the characters had just been drugged and psychologically manipulated in the most humiliating way. Not really a laughing matter, when you think about it.

There was also a nod to the original text - of the Rude Mechanicals, Snug (the one who plays the lion) could only speak in English. So we did get to hear some of Shakespeare's text, along with his attempt at a roar. That was fun.