Wiser on Wednesday/the stolen generations

Bondi

Bondi beach

Surfers on Bondi beach

For those who want to swim rather than surf at Bondi

Elaine writes: Sydney may be cosmopolitan and in the most beautiful setting but there is something about it that makes me uneasy. When Bob asked me what I thought of it, I said that I thought that it was a city busy trying to forget. This feeling was affirmed when Stephen and I went the Museum of Australia with Ruth on Wednesday morning. First we looked at the many creatures that inhabit Australia, how they have adapted to their environment, which ones are poisonous (far too many) and something about their evolution.

Then we moved on to a very thorough exhibition about the indigenous peoples of Australia which included both the Torres Straits people and what we might call aboriginal people. The exhibition was wonderful with full representation of the spirituality, culture, archaeology and art of these people. Aboriginal people have lived in Australia for over 60,000 years, maybe even twice as long. Their whole outlook, lifestyle and spirituality was based on understanding the land to be sacred and that humans do not own the land but the land owns them. It was harrowing to read how white western people not only destroyed this fine balanced way of living but took away the culture and sense of belonging from generations of aboriginal people. From the beginning of the 20th century right up until 1969, Aboriginal children were forcibly removed from their families and made to live in schools and foster families. Here, under often harsh regimes, they would be taught the white way of life and encouraged to marry or have relations with white people in order to finally eradicate aboriginal culture and identity from Australia. Sometimes babies were snatched from their mother’s arms and many, many children were physically and sexually abused. Some have never been able to find their families or their people even though agencies have now been set up to help them do so and many suffer from mental ill health as a result of the treatment and abuse they suffered.

In the eighties, the government passed a motion that an apology should be given to the aboriginal peoples of Australia but it was not until earlier this year when Kevin Rudd was the newly elected Prime Minister that an official apology was forthcoming. One of the first things Kevin Rudd did when he took office was to decree a sorry day and a copy of the official apology was displayed in the museum. What struck me as I read this were the words to the effect: the purpose of this act is to remove the stain on the nation’s soul.
It is this stain which so disturbed me. Although Maori/ White relations have suffered from western exploitation in New Zealand, there does not seem to have been the same degree of abuse of Maori people and they seem more able to keep their discrete identity in the face of western influence.

I think that aboriginal people have suffered so dreadfully because their culture is quite at variance with capitalism. Many aboriginal people are paid dole money nowadays which they call “sitting down money”, because it prevents the necessity of going walkabout to find food and exchange goods.
We were very glad to have seen this exhibition and I would like to learn more about “dreaming” as a concept and how it ties in with our views of the contemplative spirit. We returned to Mosman a little bit wiser and shopped to make a Ruth and Bob a farewell meal for our last night with them.

Stephen writes: Elaine is too modest to mention that the farewell meal that she cooked was a wonderful feast of pumpkin soup with harissa and rouille; rack of lamb with wild mushroom risotto, asparagus and creamed leeks followed by banana and rhubarb compote with panne forte. Better even than Bob’s splendid cooking. A good job Ruth’s keep fit regime was ever present. I’ve only put on one and a half Kg since we left London.

We were sad that this was our last full day with Ruth and Bob, but after learning about the plight of Aborigine families in the "stolen generations" exhibition, having a daughter and son in law in Australia, who are able to be visited and are in easy contact via telephone and internet doesn’t seem nearly as bad as it first appeared. But we will still be saving soon for a return visit.

Blue Monday

Gum tree

Three Sisters

Ruth and view from Three Sisters

Away from the crowds at Three Sisters - This is what we mean by an "easy walk"

Bottle brush bush

Plateau at Wentworth falls

This Monday was the first day of our last few days remaining in Australia but we were determined not let them pass without some adventure. So Ruth, Stephen and I set off for the Blue Mountains that morning. They are about one and half hours drive from Sydney but Ruth wanted to try and avoid the many tolls on the way and I expertly navigated her away from the main toll roads. So expertly, that it took us nearly two and half hours instead of one and half! By the time we arrived at our destination which was at the far end of the tourist route, it was nearly lunchtime but we decided to look at the Three Sisters rock formation and the surrounding valley first. The area is wonderful and the view spectacular. Again, it reminded me of similar views in Wales or the welsh border but on a massive scale. Everywhere you gaze are miles and miles of bush and you look with awe and wonder, knowing that beyond the mountains there are miles and miles more, then even more miles of scrub and desert in the outback. My small island upbringing had not given me insight into such vastness. The Blue Mountains are not blue because of the gum trees, as we had been led to believe but because of what is called the Raleigh effect. It is where the light waves in the blue end of the spectrum get scattered and spread out by bouncing off molecules in the atmosphere- the same reason that the sky itself is blue.

The area was besieged with tourist buses of mainly Japanese people, one of whom asked Ruth, in the usual polite manner, to take a photo of them in front of the view. We smiled as an Old London Routemaster bus drove up, emblazoned with some words like: “Australian Scenic Tours”. It slowed down long enough for people to take a picture through the windows, then, it drove away! We managed to find a short walk away from the crowds in which to enjoy the scenery more tranquilly, apart from the distant sound of a didgeridoo played by a rather alarming looking aboriginal man who had obviously sought out the wild and hairy look as a means of making good money. Many a tourist was photo’d alongside him in exchange for some cash. I hated the token bits of aboriginal “culture” we witnessed in various places. It seemed to demean the worth of the people themselves- rather like looking at a bearded lady in a Victorian peepshow.

We sought out lunch in the local café but obviously the area is so popular with tourists that they don’t have to try and attract them with food and the cafe only had a few limp sandwiches on offer. So we drove on to Katoomba for lunch, before we embarked on one of Ruth’s “easy walks” at Wentworth falls. The town was well supplied with café’s (and Hippies- it was an Australian, Hebden Bridge) but I chose one that seemed to have the right ambiance. It was called ‘The Blue Hour’. Unfortunately, it had a chef that thought he was an artist as well as a cook. We ordered three salads and after an hour, we were still gazing longingly while the chef twirled and arranged and lovingly presented our food. There was only one other person wanting food in the café, so he wasn’t overworked but obviously took his work very seriously indeed. I ordered a pear and blue cheese salad. This came with, pancetta, figs, pine nuts and a wonderful mix of green leaves and a honey, mustard dressing. It was a bit like a very star spangled evening dress- rich and a bit gaudy, but hey, we’d waited so long I’d have enjoyed anything. It was just as well that we were so fortified by our salads because the walk that Ruth took us on was very strenuous indeed.
It seemed to have been the fate of our walks that the authorities had closed the easy walk for refurbishment everywhere we went. So we had to take the combination of the easy and medium walk to Wentworth falls. I thought the easy walk was difficult enough but was unprepared for the very strenuous ups and downs of the next phase. Stephen, mindful of my lack of fitness kept suggesting we turn back but I wanted to keep on and see the falls. In the end, after walking for over two hours we had to admit defeat and to turn back. It was getting late and we didn’t want to be climbing back up in the dark. Ruth had already seen the falls and we did catch sight of some of the water tumbling over the plateau but not the falls themselves. The view was spectacular and the sound of birds from the verdant valley lifted up to where we stood overlooking it all from above the canopy. We watched some sulphur crested cockatoos wheel and call across the valley and were glad that we had been able to enjoy the place as much as we could manage. The walk up was a different matter. At one point, I thought that Ruth and Stephen should leave me there to die in peace but Ruth coaxed me up them there hills with her usual insistent charm and determination that makes her such a good personal fitness trainer. Another year of her work and I might become a new woman!

After a shorter drive back to Sydney via the toll roads, we enjoyed a Vietnamese stir fry that Bob had prepared for us before he’d gone off climbing on an artificial rock face with a friend. (They are keen on physical activity, these Ozzies.) The amount of chilli in the dish certainly put a zing in our spirits and perked us up after the day’s exertions.
However, I was pleased to discover the following morning that although my tum suffered from a surfeit of chilli, my limbs felt OK after the exertions of the walk. I must be getting fitter!

On the move again

Millie, as painted by Leon + Elaine's lilies

Bindi and Tasha - Vanessa and Leon's current dogs

On Sunday Vanessa drove us into the city centre so that we could go to Christ Church St. Laurence. Both Elaine and I had asked people in the UK where to worship in Sydney and we were both advised that this was the place to go. As it was a feast day – Christ the King – we got a procession as well as virtually everything else that you care to name, including white gloves for Crucifer and Acolytes and birettas for Sacred Ministers: very old fashioned catholic, but beautifully well ordered worship, enhanced by a wonderful choir who have sung in Westminster Abbey. ( Elaine: It was a long time since I had knelt for the incarnation bits in the creed, heard the gospel sung AND recited the Angelus at the end of mass. There were so many bells and smells that it was hard to take it all in but the overall effect was one of beautiful transcendence which is some thing we often lose in all our “nave friendly” worship.)

We, unwisely, went in to town by car so Vanessa only just made the service in time after searching for a parking space, then we had a very tedious drive and another long hunt for a parking spot so that we could get to the Rocks Market, but the wait was worth it. Not only had the morning rain finished by the time we arrived, but the market was full of all sorts of Australian made goods which could easily have tempted us to spend a fortune. Thankfully the weight restrictions on the plane tempered our buying, but that didn’t stop us trying yet another Australian ice cream at Manly later in the afternoon. Elaine has been very successfully operating a “never try the same flavour twice” policy. We were originally going to have tea and cake, but the shops we wanted to visit were all closed or full and then Leon rang to invite us out for a farewell evening meal, so no cake just ice cream (Elaine: Hazelnut and cappuccino flavours that time!).

Elaine writes: we went to an Indian Restaurant local to Vanessa and Leon in Seaforth but first we had to pack up as we were moving back to Ruth and Bob’s flat for the last few days. Vanessa’s house had some lovely mod cons, including the most spectacular bathroom designed by Leon, with walk in shower room and HUGE bath on a platform. The loo alone cost thousands of dollars and although as loos go it didn’t look very different from many others I’ve used, it was certainly one of the most comfortable!

Leon is a gardener designer and landscaper by trade and he does all the work from design to construction and planting himself. He has a great deal of creative talent and is in the process of designing a garden to go with a Frank Lloyd Wright style house that one of his clients is having built. We had great fun talking about plans for gardens. Their house is filled with all sorts of interesting decorative touches. Vanessa is not allowed to buy so much as a cushion without consultation. Leon also paints and you see a photo of one of his paintings of their dog Millie next to some lovely lilies that he bought me as a welcome present.
We had a good meal together, all ordering one dish then sharing. Stephen did not care for the seafood curries but enjoyed the other veggie and meat curries. Then we said goodbye to Leon and Vanessa and moved back to Roo’s flat. The one regret I have about our time with Vanessa and Leon is that I did not have a ride on his Harley Davidson

Keep fit with chips

Stephen and Leon putting the world to rights, + Bob cooking in the distance

Bob in "his" kitchen, taking a break from preparing our feast.

Vanessa, Ruth and dips

Elaine went Christmas shopping on Saturday morning to get presents for Ruth and Bob. It is really hard to remember that Christmas is close. There are decorations up here, including snowmen! They are not as extensive as in London and the combination of permanent shorts, t shirts and sun cream rather hinders the thoughts of what Birmingham tried to call Winterval.

So in the afternoon we went for a more seasonal coastal walk from Curl Curl to Dee Why. Yes, they really are the names of two local coastal resorts. We started by walking through the water for the length of Curl Curl beach, which was beautiful but virtually deserted. Showers had been forecast and people seem to prefer the big famous beaches – Manly and Bondi – all the better for us! The far end of the beach was rocky with a bathing pool created out of the rocks and waves crashing violently against the headland. We climbed to the top of the cliffs and walked through the bush, getting a series of spectacular views of the sea whenever the path came close to the edge.

We were tired by the end of the walk, but Ruth was not impressed by my chips and Elaine’s fish in breadcrumbs with which we rewarded ourselves for our efforts. But we still had space for Bob’s splendid roast chicken and Ruth’s delicious brownies which they made for us and for Vanessa and Leon that evening.

Elaine’s version of events. To say that we were tired at the end of the walk was an understatement! Ruth’s description of a short walk is somewhat different to other people’s. Her treatment of me was rather like the way we encouraged Jonathan up the Sugar Loaf mountain when he was two years old: “Just get to that rock there, Johnny, and we’ll give you a Polo” With Ruth it was: “not long now, mum, just round that corner” The problem was that the path was very up and down with very steep steps. Bob was very gentlemanly and held out his hand to help me up steep places with the familiar refrain: “Cum on Mother-in law.”

I must say, it felt fabulous when we eventually arrived at our destination but my legs did not feel at all fabulous that night nor the next day!

Hunter Valley Gardens

We think these are called Angel's Trumpets

Frangipani blossom

We've forgotten their names but Stephen thought they looked like dandelion clocks

There be dragons

Mad Hatter's tea party

We spent Friday morning at Hunter Valley Gardens. I hope that the pictures will convey something of its variety and beauty. It was arranged into a series of themed gardens. Formal, Oriental, Rose, Chinese etc and included a Storytellers Garden with many Nursery Rhyme characters. As it was very hot and that was the furthest away from the entrance we had intended to give that one a miss, but did in fact get there and were pleasantly surprised to find that it was worth the effort, which is more than can be said for the café, but it did at least provide us with shade and some cool drinks.

Elaine writes: It’s hard to describe the beauty of the gardens. There were so many interesting and unusual plants to see. I loved walking past the orchard and seeing peaches and nectarines, oranges and other unusual fruit growing happily in the sunshine. After the sleek, ordered vineyards, the gardens were a riot of colour. The Rose garden was just past its absolute best but still the fragrance and beauty of the roses was very enjoyable. There was one lovely rose named after the famous cricketer, Don Bradman. I thought we might try and get one in England to remind us of our visit. Stephen has been reading Don’s biography here and found it a good insight into Australian life. I’ve been reading Sister Mary Mackillop’s biography which gives you quite another insight.

We travelled back to Sydney via Terrigal one of the central coast beaches. We were suffering from the heat by then, but food and a paddle in the sea soon refreshed us and we were home in time to enjoy some of Thursday’s purchases of cheese and wine for supper and a few delicious chocolates.

Thundery Thursday

Stephen and Vanessa in Hunter Valley

The veranda at our B&B at Hunter Valley

Lake in Hunter Valley where we had our lunch

Another view of lake

Hunter Valley sky

If you are going to travel in Australia then choose a cloudy day. We did just that on Thursday as we set off for Hunter Valley – a wine making region a couple of hours north of Sydney. The other important advice is “don’t forget to stop as you pass the best coffee shop in town”, so we did that too, even though we’d only been on the road for half an hour. Elaine thinks that her choice of custard brioche with raspberry topping was best, but she only had a tiny taster of my blueberry cheesecake so doesn’t really know how good it was. Vanessa and I shared the driving through the rain which came from some dramatically dark clouds so we were all fresh when we arrived. The sky had been clear enough, though, for us to see the miles of bush on either side of the freeway for what seemed like over 100km - wonderful and very different from anything that we had seen previously.

We had lunch at a small winery, but didn’t stop to taste the fruit of the vine. There were going to be plenty of other places for that and first we had the important tasks of going to the cheese factory and the chocolate shop to sample and buy some of their wares. Vanessa then carefully guided us to three of the innumerable wineries. The first specialised in champagne and I tried a pink champagne for the first time – very pleasant, but the bank manager decided against me having more than a taste. Then we went to another winery where we were disappointed with their offerings, so quickly moved on. Elaine had been refraining from drinking so that she could drive, but after I had assured her that I’d had no more than half a glass in total she decided to join Vanessa in testing out a variety of white, red and dessert wines at our next port of call. Amid much banter with the man there we decided that nearly everything was too young, too dry or even according to Elaine “dancing”. However the good humoured member of staff had the last laugh as he sold Vanessa and Elaine a bottle each as well as letting me beyond the No admittance sign to photograph all the barrels.

By now the sun had arrived and we drove to our B&B which had exquisite gardens and then after a shower we went into Maitland for dinner. As with the wine, much was rejected, the Thai restaurant, the noisy Irish pub, the food stalls in the late night market, until just when we were about to abandon hope of good food in Maitland we found a lovely little restaurant at the far end of town. Enormous starters and first class lamb and salmon went to make a very good evening. What a shame we had to hop over cockroaches as we made our way back down the High Street, but we did need the exercise after such a good dinner.

Wonderful Wednesday

Houses with wrought iron balconies in Paddington

Vanessa was free on Wednesday so she took us into Sydney for an exploration. We began with Mary MacKillop Place. Mary was Australia’s first Saint who was beatified in 1995 by Pope John Paul II. In her lifetime she was regarded as a troublemaker and an agitator but she contributed enormously to the status of poor people in Australia and their education in her lifetime in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The exhibition was wonderful. It had lots of interactive scenes and foci. The house has the biggest Aboriginal painting in Australia on one of the ceilings which demonstrates a remarkable fusion between aboriginal beliefs and catholic teaching. The room where Mary died is still part of that house and the sense of her spirit and its concern for poor and underprivileged people is very palpable in the place.

After visiting here, we moved on to a gallery selling Aboriginal Art. The gallery specialises in paintings from an area near Alice Springs and shows a rich diversity of styles in its paintings. Stephen bought me a small painting from an area right in the centre of Australia called St Theresa. It reminded me of the ceiling painting in Mary MacKillop House. It transpired that aboriginal people in this area have been influenced by the Catholic faith and their art reflects this inculturation. There is much more blue in the picture, alongside the more familiar earthy tones and black and white. After lunch in Paddington we admired the many lacework balconies on the houses in that area. The houses were originally built for workers in the 19th century but they have now been restored and their wrought iron balconies, freshly painted to become much sought after properties in a fashionable, leafy suburb. Then Vanessa took us for a drive around Centennial Park which was created in 1888, from land used for grazing, to commemorate the first 100 years of Australia. There are avenues of large, well established trees, many of which look over 100 years old. Ruth does her personal fitness training at 6.30am one morning every week here and I must say it’s a beautiful place to work.