Town of My Birth

There's something about Melbourne. There's that whole Sydney v Melbourne thing that's an easy contest to win, in my mind at least. Sydney's got its appeal but Melbourne is special to me. I think maybe it's because it's where I was born. 

My father was born there and my mother's family landed there as English migrants in the late 50s. All the stories I heard as a child, after we'd left Melbourne, painted such a clear and vivid picture for me that I think even though I've not lived there since 1976, it's a little bit like coming home. The place names, the landmarks, the general sense of it as a city are so ingrained in my imagination that it's hard not to feel like I know the place well. 

There are moments that just resonate so much, like arriving at Spencer Street station and hearing my mother's voice in my head talking about how she caught the train from the suburbs to that station when she started her first job as a telephonist in the 60s. I found myself looking around, trying to picture a city forty years ago, full of young women like my mother. 

So off to Melbourne Sean and I flew on Friday. He opened his gifts (I'll post about the socks separately) and we took a morning plane. All good. We've now flown together. Phew. We can tick that one off the list of must-dos!

Two days isn't all that long but we were determined to just take the city as we found it, walk around, explore and just be.

No requirements to be anywhere except dinner on Friday night. Looking back at the photos, I think we ate and drank a lot! 

Dinner, which I can now reveal was at a very fine establishment called Ezard, was spectacular. The venue was a secret, revealed only that afternoon when we walked down Flinders Lane to look for it. Sean, like me, had never heard of it before. I only knew about it because I did extensive research to find the right place for his birthday dinner. Walking down narrow Flinders Lane, you almost miss it. See? It's downstairs.

Thankfully the green door catches your attention.

The staff were amazing. They did not, as some high end restaurants can, behave in a snooty fashion. They combined a wonderful sense of waiterly theatre with warm, welcoming high quality service. 

By the end of the night - which was nearly five hours because we had the 8 course degustation menu - they were genuinely warm and familiar with us, even presenting Sean with a bottle of their in-house olive oil as a gift for his birthday. We'd go there again in a heartbeat and what memories we have now of the night Sean turned 40. Special stuff. We'll treasure that night.

The Saturday was all about walking off the rich meal and, it has to be said, seedy morning-after feeling. Not too severely hung over, but a little tender, the day really needed to be about easy, comfortable walking in the glorious Melbourne sunshine.

We took in Captain Cook's cottage in Fitzroy Gardens. I'm so surprised to be interested in Captain Cook. I really wasn't until I saw a fabulous documentary a few months ago. You know those history lessons you learn in school that you just yawned through because they're tired and you're sure you've got nothing new to learn? Well Captain Cook turns out to have been fascinating and his cottage, which was transported from England to Melbourne some years ago, is a worthwhile stop on a sunny day when the gardens are alive and everything is green and lovely.
We explored the garden, which is set up to be something like what a standard family garden would have been like in the 1700s. I got the chance to indulge my love of photographing flowers. These are Love in a Mist and the garden was full of them.

And what's a tourist trap without a tourist photo?

Also, inside Captain Cook's cottage, I found something to interest all the yarn lovers out there. Look below the mirror.

It's a swift and as the house is full of genuine artifacts, I assume it's an antique swift. Not sure about they way they've wound the yarn though!

On Saturday we hung out in St Kilda, a place I always love to go when we're there.

We spent several hours soothing our still slightly hungover selves with some of the best Blood Marys I've had since I was in New York. It's been hard to find a good Bloody Mary outside the US but I think these ones came close to the memory of those ones I enjoyed so many years ago.

Knitting and drinking Bloody Marys as the sun goes down could become my new favourite thing to do. I think one of the girls who brought us our drinks was wishing she was doing what i was doing. 

So all in all, I think Sean can certainly say now that he enjoyed the weekend he turned 40. Getting out of town and indulging yourself is definitely the way to go. Next, I'll post about his socks and another special gift he got. It's a good story.

Bells

A week in the desert

Before last week, I'd never set foot in the Northern Territory. Nor had I flown over the red centre. I'd either lived in, or holidayed in, or passed through seven out of eight states but never the NT. Finally, thanks to the opportunity to travel for work, I made it to to the centre. To Alice Springs.

It was a wonderful trip. Four of the five days there were admittedly taken up mostly with work but they allowed enough of a glimpse of central Australia, a place that's rich in history, mythology and beauty. I really want to try and capture my impressions so indulge me please while I write about it and show lots of photos! Feel free to just skim the photos.

To leave this vision of clouds and lush forest behind, near Sydney, head up above the clouds and come down several hours later to my first ever view of the central desert was powerful. 

Photos taken from a plane aren't easy with a small digital camera, but I was pretty excited to try and get what I could.

I'd almost lost the window seat early on when a South American women tut-tutted at the start of the flight and made pointed remarks about how she REALLY wanted a window seat. Well, I was about to face three hours flying over central Australia for the first time. There was no way I was giving up my seat. I know, I know - she was a foreigner and it was her first time too but you know, I don't know when I'll make it back either.

I sat for a while feeling bad while she huffed next to me. But the moment the plane took off, she put on eye patches and asked for a blanket!  So much for craving the window seat. She just wanted it so no one would disturb her for toilet breaks etc. I was incredibly glad I didn't give up my precious window seat! Visions like this awaited.


What amazed me about the desert, which I later learned is the size of Europe, is that it wasn't the same all the way. It changed. At times it looked like this, with rivers snaking through it (oddly enough) and and other times, it was just red sand stretched out to the horizon with nothing distinctive but the sand blown into ocean wave corrugations.

Finally (after much crocheting - yes, I managed it and no one paid the slightest attention to me brandishing a bamboo hook!) we spotted the spectacular Macdonnell Ranges which surround the town of Alice Springs.


Oh, before I reach Alice, you have to see this. Not far from landing I saw this large rock in the earth and my heart skipped a beat. I snapped photos. Was it? Could it be? No, really?


A kid sitting behind me called out, 'Mum! It's Ayres Rock!' I was SO glad that was him and not me because I almost grabbed the arm of the sleeping South American woman beside me to get her to see Ayres Rock.  Imagine if I'd woken her up to show her a big lump of rock that I'm told is nothing like that famous landmark.

I arrived around lunch time and the dry heat hit me the moment I stepped out of the plane. As an indication, in Canberra, winter temps are averaging around 8C (46F). Each day in Alice, we had the most glorious weather hovering around 20C/64F. Bit of a difference huh? 

The light was bright, the air dry. As dry as the Todd River which locals were quick to tell me rarely fills up. As part of the river lay across the road from the Crowne Plaza hotel, I made the most of getting the chance to check it out and take some photos.

I really was staying right on the edge of town which was quite funny considering that when I arrived, I asked the nice cab driver to take me to the 'city'. No wonder he scoffed. I really had no sense that Alice was so small (pop 26,000) and the river so very dry.


It must be spectacular when it's flowing. I want to go back in the wet season and hopefully see it as it should be, although you can't deny that a dry river bed has a character all its own.

And here's where I spent the rest of the week, after exploring on the first day. The Alice Springs Convention Centre at the end of the road which faces the river bed, just a short walk from my hotel and framed beautifully by part of the MacDonnell Ranges.


Amazingly, I was able to knit all the way through the conference. I was really only there as an observer, given our department had sponsored part of it. I wasn't required to do an awful lot except for in the breaks when I had to work on our department's booth. But even that was only moderately taxing. 

During one session, I sat beside an Indigenous woman who was crocheting a blanket in the colours of the Aboriginal flag. She was delighted, I think, when I asked her if she'd mind if I took a photo.

We both agreed keeping your hands busy throughout those long sessions helps keep you focused. 

Look Julie, here's your Purple Trainwreck yarn in Central Australia. Bet you never thought it'd land there!

On the last night, we were taken to a remote cattle property for a dinner under the stars and drove through the desert on a coach at sunset to get there.

I didn't get tired of looking at it. You can't. It's another world. An African American man from Virginia who I met at the dinner told me that the desert reminded him of New Mexico.

The dinner was held outside, in the cold night desert, on what I learned was a disused film set. That was a little disappointing for me. The little buildings around us seemed so authentic. I felt like such a tourist. But you know, that's what you get I suppose when you're there for an international conference.

Still, it makes for nice photos that there was such beautiful scenery all around us.

I took my clapotis out that night. I thought she might like to see the desert by night and boy was I glad I did. I'm not one for keeping warm on the dance floor, especially not at a work function, so I was glad for the warmth and comfort of a wrap.

Someone said to me there that surely, as a Canberran, I should be used to that kind of cold. Well, yes, but we don't often stand around outside in the cold in Canberra. Nights are for being inside, wrapped up in layers and keeping toasty warm in the central heating!

And really, that's about it, except to say that I loved Alice Springs. I went with all sorts of pre-conceived ideas, mostly that Alice Springs would be crawling with rednecks who would hate tourists. Sure, they're there. And there's a terrible feeling in the town that the Indigenous people get a hard time (they're banned from most pubs, for example) but the people I met were friendly, even in the supermarket line. 

Locals were keen to tell stories and to make you welcome and the Indigenous people I met, mainly at the conference, were just the same. People are proud of their town and I would go back, as a proper tourist, in a heartbeat. In fact Sean and I are already talking about it. But in winter of course. Those soaring summer temperatures are not for us!

One final story. I ate kangaroo one night at an outback pub called Bojangles. Not so surprising. I've eaten kangaroo before. But to a four year old, it must be pretty amazing. I rang Adele and Will the morning after and told Will the story. He laughed and said it was crazy. Imagine if I'd had the camel pie I was tossing up on the menu!

And so finally, I am home. Sean missed me a lot but coped well. I got regular reports on meals he cooked such as steak with roast potatoes, or rice and tuna dishes. I love knowing I can go away and leave him to look after himself like a grown up. 

Tonight, he's cooking me a birthday roast lamb. Today I am 36 and contrary to popular opinion, not staggering around in a state of shock at my age and apparent childlessness. I am ok. I've had a lovely trip, have great friends, a wonderful husband and a good life. Many things to be thankful for, not least of which is a Monday off in lieu because I worked Saturday. I'll be sleeping off the birthday wine, no doubt. 

Bells

The missing photos

Finally, blogger seems to be cooperating. So, here are a selection of photos from our weekend away. It's gotten so that Sean now regularly says, 'hey, you should take a photo of X for the blog.' I don't know if we u se our camera for much else!

Here's my knitting bag, all ready for the 24 hours we were going to be away.


Yes, 24 hours. I'm sure you all know about that particular knitterly quirk. Note, please, the implementation of the Rose Red System of Stash Standardisation (ie the judicious use of Ziplock bags).

I'm rather ashamed to admit we always stop at McDonalds on the road to Sydney. This time, we got to have breakfast with some bad knitting.

There was a charity stall outside McDonald's at Sally's Corner. Lots and lots of fairly ugly knitting that just had to be snapped. That's Sean's arm.

Here's the sleeve of the steeked jacket at brunch on Sunday.


See how sunny it was? We roasted, sitting as we were in the front window of Muse. We were something of a spectacle as people stood at the front window staring at a bunch of kooky girls and one guy all knitting away over tea and eggs. Not the guy, in this instance. It was quite amusing and sometimes damn hard to look natural.

Here's the jaywalker that Brownpants was working on. Lorna's Laces, self striping. Gorgeous.


Here is RoseRed's final Sockapalooza sock. She finished them while we were brunching and the finished socks can be seen here.


Shazmina, meanwhile, was working on an intriguing hat for her sister. There was much talk of dreadlocks spilling out the top.


After that, she moved onto a Big, Bad, Baby Blanket.



I looooove those colours.

And last, but not least, RoseRed's second clapotis (affectionately known as 'the clappy'). It's still itty bitty and it's laceweight and just gorgeous. Do we all agree?

I have passed fewer more pleasant Sunday morning brunches in my time. Thanks guys. Love you lots!

Bells
xo

ps I am massively behind in blog reading. Honestly, go away for a day and it just goes crazy in blogland! I'm getting through my list slowly, but surely.

Map reading is not my strength

Our weekend in Sydney was great fun. Sadly, there will be no photos tonight as blogger is being a bastard and will not upload.

The title of this post refers to the vast quantities of map reading that I did, some of it sans Sean, as I had some time on Saturday afternoon on my own while Sean was at the pub with a mate and I was off to go wool shopping.

For Sydneysiders, let me just illustrate this by saying I was supposed to get from North Parramatta to Beecroft. I ended up in Kellyville.

Oops.

Wool Shopping With a Newbie
Once I got to Beecroft, I went shopping at Sue's CherryHills with a friend who is a newbie knitter, Victoria. This was after trying to shop at Rubi + Lana and Greta's and finding them closed - what is it with Sydney knitting shops closing just after lunch on a Saturday???!! It's not like they're country town shops where the whole main street is vacated at midday on the dot. Grrr.

Anyway, Sue's CherryHills was very accommodating and no matter how much I tried to steer Victoria away from extra bulky novelty yarn, she had her heart set on it and away she went with a not insubstantial First Stash and we passed the remainder of the afternoon learning an important lesson.

Why Novelty Yarn Makes Learning New Techniques Somewhat Challenging.

She did well though and has lovely technique. It warmed my heart.

Saturday Night Dinner
I dined on kangaroo. A rather large slab of it. I was happy. The idea of Moroccan Kangaroo amused me greatly.
Sunday Morning Brunch
I was fortunate enough to have brunch this morning in Summer Hill with three of the loveliest women on the planet.

RoseRed
Shazmina Bendi
and
Brown Pants

Sadly Ms Black Dog Knits was waylaid and there was much pouting and gnashing of teeth when the call came through that she wouldn't be joining us. If she hadn't called me to say so, I'd be suspecting she didn't actually exist as that's TWICE she's failed to make it along to one of our gatherings.

There'd better not be a third time, Nora!

Anyway, I shall post photos later of all the work that went on amidst the talking and eating, but suffice to say, we had a blast. It's fantastic when online relationships translate seamlessly into meeting in person. I LOVE that.

The girls were extremely cool with having Sean with us. He was going to go and amuse himself elsewhere but it never quite happened and he proved he is extremely adept and slotting into knitting conversation with the best of 'em. I think he was also quietly chuffed that the girls requested sets of sock blockers. He's on it, girls. He's on it.

I'm also pleased to say there was no need to threaten him with DPN impaling today. He was supremely well behaved on THAT front.

Bells

two sisters and a sock in the city

My trip to Sydney began with weather like this:

Drought breaking rain, just not convenient timing for me

A 2.5 hour trip turned into 4 hours of fairly miserable and lonely driving. I'm not adverse to driving that distance by myself. I'd just like to not hit Sydney at peak hour after three hours in the rain alongside massive trucks and general Friday afternoon tiredness.

The evening improved after some quality bath time fun with Will.

Trying to get him to smile at the camera without dropping it into the bath was challenging

Shortly this was followed by an evening of excellent Indian takeaway and red wine with my sister and a couple of girlfriends.

The next day, not too groggy from overeating and the red wine, we headed into the city nice and early.

The other big bridge in Sydney

This is Sean's second sock going over the Anzac Bridge.

We had tickets to this


This is our annual day out. It started for us the year Will was born and Adele got her first day out as a new mum. We pretty much go nuts on samples and goodies and of course, celebrity chefs. More on that soon.

Here we are, all excited before the show, at around 9:30am. We like to get there before the crowds arrive.


Pretty soon, it was on for young and old.

We sampled cheese, chocolate, olive oil, nougat, fudge and nuts. All good, except for two really disgusting things we tried. One was a supposedly Swiss Hot Chocolate, brand name of which escapes me. We decided it was so thick it was like drinking hot cake mix!! Also, some puffed wheat snacks dubiously flavoured with Indian spices that tasted like rust to me - or what I imagine what rust might taste like. The complete shit some people try to pass off as food astounds me.

Here is Adele by the Rocky Road Pyramid.

Rocky road cruelly kept behind plastic walls.

The biggest part of the day was attending the 'performance' by Aussie culinary icon Donna Hay. She's only been on the scene a few years but she's pretty huge here. I'm a relatively recent convert, thanks to Adele's evangelism. So we got to see her throw together a dinner party in 30 minutes. I tell you what, my life would be a lot easier if I could do that, but would I have as much fun? The amount of wine Ms Hay consumed on stage suggests she's my kind of cook although I don't know if I'd be mixing it with Sudafed the way she kept saying she was doing....


We really enjoyed seeing Donna Hay. Part of why we went was because we didn't really have a sense of who she was. We have her books and magazines, but hadn't ever seen her on TV. We'd heard she was a bit of a bitch, actually. I think we both concluded there was a definite snarky side to her coming through not-so-subtly on stage. So maybe the stories are true. Or perhaps it was just the wine and sudafed making her a tad touchy?

Oh, and unforgivably, between handling the chicken breasts and cooking the souffle (yes, in 30 minutes!) she didn't wash her hands. The food was all whisked off stage to feed her staff, presumably. Ewww!! You've gotta wash your hands after handling chicken. Yuck.

At around 4pm, I headed home. Another unbearably long 2.5 hour journey that turned into four. The rain was much heavier. And it was very, very dark. I stopped numerous times waiting for the rain to ease. Eventually it did. I was very relieved to make it home and Sean was very relieved to see me make it safely. Probably, I should have stayed in Sydney and driven home this morning after a good night's sleep.

Off to SnB this afternoon, I hope. I need some knitting time.

Bells

Sox And The City

We just had a weekend trip to Sydney. I took loads of photos and a few (I swear, just a few) of them are here for your enjoyment. The proliferation of photos of my sock-in-progress is the reason for the Sox And The City title.

Early Friday morning, we (and Sock) headed off on the boring 3 hour drive up the Federal Highway from Canberra to Sydney. How I ever survived that trip before knitting in the car, I don't know.



Once in Sydney, I visited my sister and her husband and got serious amounts of playtime with my nephew, Will. He loves me. He calls me Aunty Balls because he can't quite manage Aunty Bells. I'm cool with that. He's almost three.



On Saturday, we caught up with a friend of ours, Mick, and took a ferry from Parramatta to Circular Quay.

The journey started here:



And ended here:



I'm sure I don't have to tell all the non-Aussie readers what that's a photo of!

The journey by ferry was about 45 minutes each way. that's a lot of sock knitting time! For some reason, the sock didn't feature in any of those photos.

What followed (Brownpants and Shazmina, you'll love this!) was an afternoon of food, beer and knitting in various pubs around Circular Quay and the Rocks.

First of all:



This was taken in what is apparently Australia's oldest pub, Fortune of War. This is Tooheys Old.

Next, we spent a great deal of time in the Belgian Beer Cafe at the Rocks, where, with my pot of mussels (sadly, no photo, I got carried away with eating them!) I had a bottle of Framboise - a raspberry beer that's incredibly potent. The sock had to get in on the photo, too.


By later that night, the toe of the sock was in sight, which amazing considering this was just another in a long line of beers, this time at the Woolpack Hotel in Parramatta. I finished the sock there.



Our friend was heard to remark, 'it's not often you sit all day at a pub with someone knitting.'

I guess not.

Today, I met up with a bunch of girlfriends on Darling Harbour. They humoured me in my pursuit of Sox and the City photos.

Here's the sock having chocolate cake at the Lindt Cafe.


And this odd man wanted to help me take a photo of the sock overlooking part of the harbour. When we asked him to hold the sock he asked if it was clean. My friend Victoria, indignant that he should cast aspersions on the cleanliness of my sock, licked it, just to prove the point. After that, this strange man was happy to oblige.


And finally, before leaving the city, Sock insisted on a photo that is all too touristy in nature, but absolutely a must. This is the sock (modelled by Lucy) under the Centrepoint Tower.



Sock headed back to Canberra late on Sunday afternoon, feeling full of beer, chocolate and pizza and altogether satisfied.