Agra-vation

I only spent one night in Agra but had two whole days there, thanks to the wonders of the Indian railway system. It seems like you can get to a bewildering number of destinations from pretty much any major town. It was thus that I found that a night train runs from Varanasi to Agra once a day. However this is a pretty popular train so rather than the air-conditioned sleeper carriage that I had been hoping would be my introduction to Indian railways, I had no option but to travel plain old 'sleeper class'.

In 'sleeper class' the bunks are stacked three high and air is provided by big fans and open windows behind steel bars to stop thieves climbing in during the night. But I had a reserved bunk up on the top tier, and actually I got a reasonably comfortable night's sleep. But this was not before the police moved through the carriages and made all the foreign tourists read a 'guidance note' on how to avoid being drugged and robbed (top tip: don't eat or drink anything you haven't paid for!). Oh good. And the 'good book' made the point that trains to/from Varanasi are particularly vulnerable to crime. Oh good again. My pillow that night consisted of both my bags, chained to the bunk itself.

I woke up before dawn, for the third day in a row, as I wanted to make sure I didn't miss the stop. I needn't have bothered as with a little help from a fellow tourist (a german civil engineering student... ooh we had a right riveting conversation!) I discovered we were still a way off. Nearly two hours delayed in fact... turning a 13 hour ride into a 15 hour one... welcome to India! To be honest this didn't matter - it really is a tad ridiculous to try to check into a hotel or guesthouse at 7am, and aside from the Taj Mahal and a few other things there isn't THAT much to do in Agra... two days was plenty. And anyway the next morning I saw the same train rolling in about four and a half hours late, so it seems I got off lightly!

Anyway, back to Agra. You could probably sum up Agra as a city of total contrasts. Thanks to history it has been blessed with the Taj Mahal, which is a truly beautiful building, as well as Agra Fort and some other sights which are equally distracting. Unfortunately the city of today that surrounds these sights is a dump. Even the good book describes it as 'one of India's least prepossessing cities'. Thankfully my chosen guest house was very nice indeed.

I didn't go to the Taj on the first day because it was Sunday, so there would be loads of domestic tourists. Plus, it looks best either at sunrise or sunset, and it's boiling hot in the middle of the day. But hang on, that advice goes for pretty much everything else I've seen in India! In both Varanasi and Agra, the phenomenon of the mid-afternoon lull is known... that time when you've exhausted your morning's buggering about, had lunch, but then it's too hot or too early to go do the next thing. Resolving to avoid this if at all possible, I got the nice people at my guest house to charter a taxi to take me out to Fatehpur Sikri for the afternoon. The drive took almost an hour and a half each way, to cover just 40km. Again, welcome to India!

Hannah wrote back in June about her visit to Fatehpur Sikri with Pam, and noted how frustrating it can be to visit sites of such beauty while being constantly harangued by touts, beggars, hawkers, and 'official' guides. I paid over the odds for a guy to show me around the large mosque - which was truly amazing - and when this was over he started to lead me back down the hill towards the access road. 'Hang on' I said, 'you haven't shown me half of it yet!' Realising the scam was up, I paid the 'official' guide his money and headed over to the old palace buildings, which were thankfully a lot more serene, maintained as they are by the Archeological Survey of India and protected by a big fence. Needless to say, I had another guide to 'accompany' me around the site.

The next morning I rose before dawn for the fourth day in a row, and got down to the Taj to try to make the most of the early morning light. I was unlucky that the water features dividing the lawn had been drained, but I think you should be able to tell from the photos below that I didn't leave disappointed.

I then had a whole day to kill before taking the evening Shatabdi express train to Delhi. There was no point getting to Delhi earlier, as Hannah was flying back to Delhi from Orissa the same day, and had said she wouldn't be home until 9 or 10pm. So I got an auto-rickshaw to drive me around for a couple of hours, crossing a ridiculously congested and narrow bridge to the opposite side of the Yamuna river, to see the Taj reflected in the river, and to visit the 'Baby Taj'.

The 'Baby Taj' is called thus because it is smaller than the Taj Mahal and in fact predates its big brother by about 30 years. It's also a tomb, housing the remains of Mumtaz Mahal's father (Mumtaz Mahal being the woman to whom the Taj Mahal is dedicated). Nearly 400 years old, it still represents one of the finest examples of islamic Mughal architecture in India.

After lunch I waded through the by now familiar mass of touts, beggars, hawkers, and 'official' guides to visit Agra Fort. Much bigger than the Taj, I spent a couple of hours here; wandering through the maze of buildings erected within the fort was very rewarding: beautiful white marble palaces juxtaposed with red sandstone ruins. And a view of the Taj.

I still had time to kill before my train so I farted around on the Internet for a bit, and ate dinner at my guest house. I had checked out at 10am and was by now feeling quite sweaty and skanky! Bored, I arrived at Agra Cantonment station a bit too early, and headed to the platform. Where I was besieged by scammers and begging children. So I left and went outside, only going back down to the platform about 5 minutes before the train was due to pull in. This tactic worked up to a point, that point being that the train was an hour late! By the time I got to New Delhi station it was midnight and I was an hour and a half late.

Note: New Delhi station is one of the worst places in India for the tired and weary traveler, and midnight is an exceedingly bad time to arrive there. A taxi tout latched on to me, and despite my colourful language he would simply not f**k off. The 'official' pre-paid taxi office wanted 1300 rupees to get to GK1 i.e. Hannah's neck of the woods. I laughed at them and left. The taxi tout changed his tune a little and we eventually agreed on a still quite inflated 500 rupees. Then despite the fact that my taxi driver had a mate along for the ride (this happens with auto-rickshaws too... still no idea why!) we got hopelessly lost trying to find Hannah's address. Only after I rang Hannah, and she spoke to the driver's mate in broken Hindi, did we make some progress. I had hoped to get here about 10pm, and it was now quarter to one in the morning. Again, welcome to India!

Robin

Varanasi

Varanasi is a long way from Mumbai, situated as it is in mid-north India on the banks of the sacred River Ganges (and called the Ganga here). So I flew to Varanasi, which also meant touching down in Delhi and sitting on the tarmac for about an hour and a half. Essentially the journey took most of the day and it was dusk when I arrived at my guest house, where my room has a balcony overlooking the river and the famous Ghats. Fearing to venture too far away from the guest house through the narrow alleyways of the old city after dark (power cuts are common!) I ate dinner at the guest house's very own rooftop 'restaurant' and watched boatloads of tourists (both Indian and western) return upstream after watching the nightly puja / ceremony at the main Ghat, just downstream.

My first reason for coming to Varanasi was to rendezvous with Hannah, who had planned to meet her friend Sarah there for a couple of days. Sarah works in Orissa state on the east coast, so Varanasi seemed like an ideal halfway point for the two of them. Plus it just so happened that it fitted in well with my nascent plans, which until that point consisted of not much more than 'hit Mumbai, then either go north or south for a bit'. Not fancying a 26 hour train ride, I booked a flight. However no sooner had I done so, Sarah's employers advised her not to go to Varanasi as it would be festival time. Thus the plan was changed. In the mean time I had done some more reading on Varanasi, was still keen to go, and had found a place to stay (all this while still in Australia). So here I am!

I wasn't disappointed that I came. Although on the first evening I slipped down some steps near the guest house, so bruising and grazing my right arm (and getting covered in mud, shit, and god knows what else in the process). And then I spent half the night fending off all manner of creepy crawlies - apparently from the end of the monsoon until Diwali - basically most of October - Varanasi is flying bug city. So it's fair to say I didn't feel like I was having fun on Thursday morning. But by the evening I definitely was.

The periphery of Varanasi is a common Indian mix of shops spilling out onto half-tarmac half-dirt streets crowded with traffic morning noon and night. However the heart of the city is the maze of extremely narrow alleyways (galis) that pass for streets, leading down to the Ghats. The galis are very atmospheric and often crowded not just with people but also with cows and the more than occasional 'two wheeler' i.e. a motorbike / moped. Still the comparative lack of continually blaring horns, and the shade from the burning hot midday sun, makes the galis are a fun place to explore. I tried to get a decent photo but none do them justice!

The best way to appreciate Varanasi however is from a boat on the Ganges itself. This way, you not only get a widescreen view of all the goings-on on the Ghats, but you (generally speaking) avoid the touts and the scammers. Due to the large number of tourists, Varanasi has its fair share of these, oh yes.

My first boat ride was taken at dusk, which gave us (me and my fellow tourists) the opportunity to watch the nightly ceremony at the main Ghat, from the river. That Thursday night, it just happened to coincide with Durga puja, when the mother goddess Durga is honoured by chucking effigies of her into the river, dancing about a bit, and setting off tons of firework. Both things were going on at the same time, at the same place. Truly a bonkers spectacle, but it made for some great photos.

On Friday I visited Sarnath, which lies only about 10km from Varanasi, but takes 45 minutes to reach using an auto-rickshaw due to the city's hellish roads! While Varanasi is extremely important to Hindus, Sarnath is important to Buddhists: it was here that Buddha apparently gave his first sermon. Despite its importance the site of the city that was built after Buddha's sermon is now a ruin, albeit a neat, ordered, and well-preserved one.

The scam I rode out this particular day was my rickshaw driver's demand for 'baksheesh' despite the fact that on the way back into town he actually managed to crash the damn thing into a couple of motorcyclists (no harm done though!) and then dropped me about a 20 minute walk from where I wanted to be! Cheeky sod. I just laughed at the ridiculousness of it and walked off.

The good book says that no visit to Varanasi is complete without an early morning boat ride, and so on the Saturday morning this is what I did, getting up before dawn to make sure I got the best of it. Devout Hindus traditionally come down to the Ghats to bathe in the Ganges at dawn, and the light at this time makes for some unforgettable sights.

The other thing that has to be mentioned about Varanasi is the 'burning' Ghats. There are two in the city; these are where the dead are brought to be cremated before the remains are interred into the Ganges. This happens in the open air, in full view of anyone who cares to watch. Quite an emotional spectacle really. No photos allowed out of respect for the dead of course. Now I knew that this is the way that Hindus dispose of the dead, but what I didn't know is that some people (e.g. children, holy men - sadhus, pregnant women) are not burnt - they are just taken to the middle of the river and dropped. Apparently the fish eat the remains. I wondered if they also eat all the rubbish that the locals literally throw into the river every day too, sadly. 

Surprisingly enough, I didn't fancy a dip in the sacred river myself.

Robin

Mad muggy Mumbai

My arrival in India was inauspicious. The plane had departed Sydney late and then just as we prepared to land, amidst a thunderstorm, at Mumbai, the plane veered sharply upwards from an altitude of about 100m. "Sorry about the missed approach" was the explanation from the flight deck. By the time I was on the ground I was about 2 hours late but then hey... what does that really matter? I'm on holiday!

Bags collected and pre-paid taxi voucher acquired, I stepped out from the air-conditioned world of the arrivals hall into the throng. Not so much the heat but the humidity practically knocked me sideways, as I headed off in search of my taxi. At least I had a 'friend' to carry my backpack... I've only been in India for three days now but there never seems to be a shortage of people keen to carry things or generally 'help' (depending on your definition of help) for a 10 rupee note. This amounts to a grand total of 12.5p so why not I say.

Back in the UK I am sure that I will look back on India with fond memories. But after a long flight and a bad night's sleep the night before I was totally unprepared for the sight of the 'taxi'... a battered yellow-and-black rustbucket whose boot was secured with a chain and padlock. And they were all like that... not just at the airport but all over Mumbai! I dare say it's the same all over India. Actually after a couple of days catching these things became rather fun, once used to the rhythm of convincing drivers to use their meters and trying not to look annoyed when the driver stops during the journey to do anything from go to the toilet to top up brake fluid (both of which are kinda reassuring in their own way!)

This photo is actually a better example of the typical Mumbai taxi:

Next: the roads / traffic / driving 'situation'. I have never seen driving anything quite like that which I have seen so far in India. It's very difficult to describe; lanes on highways mean nothing. Pedestrians weave in and out as though guided by some divine force, seemingly oblivious to the death on wheels screaming past in all directions. Buses, trucks, hand-pulled carts, pushbikes, motorbikes, cars, taxis and rickshaws all jostle for space, with only inches between them. This is all partly explained by Mumbai's terrible roads... to get from the airport to the heart of the city, at the end of a long peninsula, takes anywhere from 45 minutes to 2 hours. The distance covered is something like 30km. So the roads are just something that you have to deal with in this city!

The alternative for many people, including many western businesses, is to set up shop away from the old city in suburbs like Bandra, which are close-ish to the airport but far enough away from it too. This is what Arup have done with the recently-established Mumbai office (total staff = five), which I visited on Tuesday afternoon. As my taxi struggled through the afternoon traffic (I arrived an hour late for my appointment) it seemed that Mumbai's chronic traffic appears to be sucking the life out of the old city. Indian and western businesses set up shop 20km out because getting in and out of the city is a huge hassle. And if all your clients are doing likewise, what is the point of going into the city at all? It will be interesting to see whether the colonial architecture of the old city will just be left to crumble while the glass and steel towers sprawl across the outer suburbs, their air-conditioned comfort and blandness keeping the fascinating yet dilapidated old city at a safe distance from the suited classes.

So apart from spending a lot of time in taxis, what did I actually do in Mumbai? I arrived too late Sunday to do much except get a quick drink and a light dinner at an 'upwardly mobile' cafe/bar around the corner from my hotel. The hotel was not cheap - none in Mumbai are - but it had great views from its position on Marine Drive, overlooking the 'back bay' of the Arabian Sea to the west of the old city (photo below). In the mornings a guy brought me newspapers and a simple breakfast with loose leaf tea. The air conditioning was good (an absolute necessity) as was the shower. Plus I had a balcony and wireless internet... everything I could ask for basically!

On the Monday I basically just had a general wander, trying to soak up the atmosphere of one of India's biggest cities without getting run over and/or contract food poisoning. Not yet brave enough to try the 'street food', I stuck to restaurants recommended by 'the good book', as I shall be referring to my Footprint India travel guide from now on.

One thing I really wanted to see was the crush of commuters arriving in the morning rush hour at the main train stations, Churchgate and CST. I'd also hoped to see the famed Dabbawallahs, or tiffin box carriers, who deliver home-cooked packed lunches from housewife to husband all over the city. But I didn't see any. Got some 'interesting' photos though.

 

In the afternoon I wandered down to the famed Gateway of India, built in 1906 for the arrival of the King and Queen for their Indian tour. Situated on the quayside, it's also the point from which the last British battalion departed India after independence. And today, it's probably the most heavily touristed part of the city, where anyone with a pale face runs the gauntlet of the various touts, beggars and vendors of tat. I think I need to work on the art of politely saying no whilst achieving the desired outcome of making said tout, beggar or vendor bugger off. I haven't yet offended anyone (or so I think) but my success in losing hangers-on has been limited at best!

The Gateway itself was pretty enough despite being half covered by scaffolding, as were the brightly painted ferries anchored close by. The incredibly expensive Taj hotel overlooks the whole scene, which sadly includes a huge amount of rubbish and pollution in the harbour. It does make you wonder for the health of the kids jumping off the quay walls into the murky water. Unfortunately this theme of general rubbish and pollution was repeated at the otherwise quite appealing Chowpatty Beach, where many local families gather to chill out around dusk.

Other than visiting Arup, I spent Tuesday on a trip to Elephanta Island, abut 11km offshore towards the mainland from Mumbai. This meant I got to go on one of those brightly coloured ferries I mentioned above, which was half the fun of the trip!

Upon arrival at the island I was immediately accosted by a local guide and offered a tour. Given that I was short of time and actually quite interested in having someone explain stuff to me (I have been trying to mug up on the Hindu religion with the help of the good book but really I haven't got far) we agreed a fee and set off. I hadn't bargained for having to buy the guy a beer and snacks too, but what the hey. I imagine 'cheeky' doesn't translate into Hindi too well. Krishna the guide was actually very knowledgeable about the 'caves' at Elephanta, cut from solid rock many centuries ago. Even the religious images inside the caves were cut from the same monolith. Very impressive. And that's despite the damage and occasional bullet-hole left by the Portuguese army, who at one stage used the caves as some kind of firing range!

There were quite a few monkeys on Elephanta island too. I'm sure that there are monkeys to be found all over India, but I will never get tired of seeing them monkey about, so long as they don't nick my camera or something equally worthless to a monkey but valuable to me. For a while I watched them preening each other, play fight, and generally monkey about.

So that was Mumbai. Just a brief taster and off again Wednesday morning, flying to Varanasi with the oddly named Spicejet. More on that in the next post...

Robin

End of an era... start of another!

So, the time has come... I have left Australia! I'm actually writing this having just flown over the coastline of the Northern Territory somewhere west of Darwin, about four hours after take-off from Sydney. Eight hours to go to Mumbai... might as well exercise the grey matter by writing this while I'm here.

Although it was cold grey and gloomy in Sydney this morning... great weather for leaving anywhere, if you ask me... the clouds started to clear halfway across the continent, so allowing me a glimpse of the 'red centre' of Australia that I never really got to see by land.

Just for the record here's a shot of the last bit of Australia I will see for a while... nothing but rainforest, sandy beaches and the warm waters of the Timor Sea as far as the eye can see! Whenever I go back to Australia, I'm definitely want to do another 'road trip' and get out into the wilds of WA and the NT...

The last two weeks at work have been all about 'winding down'... I've kept myself busy enough but clearly it's time to move on from the Sydney office, at least for the moment. My contribution towards the 'natural wastage' of staff numbers is appreciated, and that's not me being negative, just a plain fact... a few big jobs have been 'put on hold' recently, including Brisbane Airport. I had a few decent conversations with various superiors about what we had learnt from me being in Oz... the good news being that everyone had actually learnt something, and that that was a positive thing!

I also made it clear that I might be interested in coming back for longer at some point in the future... while a six month secondment is great from some points of view (for example, if you're nervous about committing to working for a number of years in a country on the other side of the world that you've never even visited before!) I kind of feel like I've only just got my feet under the desk. And that idea applies to the social situation too. I've definitely made a few good friends and contacts in Sydney, but some of that has come about relatively recently... and then it seems like a shame to be moving on, especially with summer just around the corner!

Up until yesterday, the weather in Sydney has been absolutely stunning, a real little taste of summer. Last Saturday I recovered from a hangover acquired at an 'end-of-month-drinks' quiz night by watching the AFL Grand Final supping beers in a mate's back garden. How very Aussie. And then as the mercury climbed to 33 degrees on Sunday I got down to Bondi Beach to roast myself in the sun for a few hours. By the time I left at about 2:30 the place was packed! Note to self: find nicer beach upon potential return to Sydney...

On Thursday night I had some joint leaving drinks with my colleague and friend Elsbeth who also left Arup this week. We booked the rooftop of the Glenmore Hotel in The Rocks, which turned out to be a great move as Thursday was another roasting hot day. This fact, coupled with the amazing view of the Opera House that the Glenmore's rooftop enjoys, probably contributed a little to the great turn-out we had from the office; something approaching 100 of the 360 or so staff came along to wish us farewell and happy travels. That was a nice touch.

(photo below, featuring Ryan and Stijn from the office, not only shows off the view we enjoyed, but also gives some idea of how the evening panned out!)

Friday was even hotter, a ridiculous 35 degrees. We had another leaving 'do' - a pub lunch this time - and then after work started on the usual friday beers, where we were both embarrassed by the obligatory handing over of leaving cards and requests for speeches. And then my last day in Sydney arrived... and the weather was awful! The temperature had dropped about 15 degrees and it was chucking it down with rain. Not exactly weather for going to the horse racing as I had planned, but I did that anyway, meeting up with a friend from work and some of his mates for his birthday. Despite the rain the horse racing was a good laugh... no money was won but not much was lost. It was also an interesting introduction to the 'culture' of the crowd at the races... not sure if this is a uniquely Aussie thing, but I'd never seen so many pissed-up bogans in my life!

I managed another couple of drinks after the races but I retired early... the week of revelry was starting to catch up with me... so much so that I'm quite looking forward to not drinking so much in India; I seriously started to think that the Australian way of life was ruining my health! I've also been warned to expect to lose a bit of weight while in India (if you know what I mean, ahem). In my current physical state, bring it on, I say!

Robin

Future sailors (reprise)

It's been another hot weekend in Sydney, with wall to wall sunshine. Do I have to go home? Oh hang on, yes I do, and I get to spend four weeks in India on the way. Hurrah!

As well as the fab weather, the weekend was good because Mal and Krellis came to visit and helped me 'tick off' several things from my to-do list. So here's a brief account of what went on.

The boys arrived late Thursday and after probably a few too many quiet beers at my apartment we got up early to make the pick-up for our day tour of wineries in the Hunter Valley. It's a little over two hours' drive north so we needed to be up early to make the day worthwhile, including a stop for lunch where we devoured not only fish & chips but also an awesome lump of cheese...

There were only seven of us on this tour and we only visited small out-of-the-way places, so we all felt like we'd learnt something. Although we'd drunk so many different wines by the end of the day that I'm not sure any of us could tell you what that was. You might be able to tell from the facial expressions in the photo below...

Driving back towards the city, clearly at least one of us felt that a nap was in order...

In the evening, after a mini pub crawl around The Rocks, we met up with an old friend of Mal's (Dan) who's been living in Sydney for two years. Then ended up at a rather surprisingly upmarket bar in Kings Cross with Dan and Dan's girlfriend and her mates, drinking expensive table-service cocktails until 2:30. This was a surprise given all the wine consumed earlier in the day! The evening ended well with pies, stacked up with mash, mushy peas and gravy all precariously balanced on top, eaten standing up, at the infamous Harry's Cafe de Wheels in Woolloomooloo, something of a Sydney institution. Two things ticked off the to-do-list already!

Hangovers successfully acquired, we set off mid-morning on Saturday for Middle Harbour Yacht Club, as Krellis had organised with a friend of his to get us out on the harbour sailing for the afternoon. Now, Mal and I were initially a little apprehensive, as being total novices we didn't want to look like fools or be a hindrance... we were actually going to be racing, after all. However our fears were allayed by the news that we were in no way integral to the crew. In fact there were probably even a few too many of us on the boat, so Mal and I performed a job essentially of ballast, flinging ourselves from one side of the boat to the other every time we tacked, so keeping our feet out of the water and trying to avoid having our heads knocked off by the boom!

'Crewing' for yacht owners / skippers is quite a popular pastime in Sydney, as these people generally need some extra pairs of hands to help them do everything there is to do on a boat, and as it's free this is obviously the cheapest way to get out on the water. Everyone's a winner, and the scene is nowhere near as snobbish as the sailing fraternity in the UK... there are just so many boats in the harbour, it's too accessible to be that snobbish.

You can see in these pictures that I'm wearing a hat... it lasted about three hours before a gust of wind caught it and flung it into the harbour. Mal said that was his highlight of the day, if not the weekend. Ha ha indeed.

After the sailing we joined Krellis' mate Anna (who'd hooked us up with the sailing for the day) for an impromptu barbie at her place in Manly, overlooking the ferry dock. Absolutely stunning. It was there that Anna received a text from the skipper informing us that we'd actually won the race we had competed in! Not quite what I had expected from my first proper taste of sailing!

Sunday morning came and we got up too late to see the Sydney marathon going past my window. The bridge was closed but was open again by the time we wandered up to the south-east pylon... from where there is a great viewing platform at the top. At $9.50 it's much better value than the bridge climb, and you get pretty much the same view. Great for Mal, who wanted pictures of himself in front of lots of landmarks to send to his nan for her birthday. To be fair Krellis and I indulged a little in this too.

After that we got back on the water, taking the ferry over to Watson's Bay to eat fish & chips from Doyles and drink some beer in the sunshine. Which was great. Plus there were lots more 'tourist in front of landmark' photo opportunities for Mal.

And that was the weekend over, in what seemed like a matter of minutes! So now it's Monday and this time in a fortnight I will be in Mumbai... seems kind of surreal but really looking forward to it. Just need to get around to doing some research!

Robin

Spring has sprung!

Just a quick post to say that spring has definitely sprung in Sydney, so much so that on Saturday it felt more like summer! Out in the western suburbs the temperature got up to about 30 degrees, so I headed out to Bondi Beach... as did half of the city it seems. The last time I'd walked along the beach, just three weeks ago after golf up the road, it was freezing (OK it was getting dark). So I was amazed by the number of people on the beach...

I got my feet wet at the water's edge but that was it... freezing! All the surfers were wearing wetsuits, after all. It wasn't quite so warm as in the city down on the beach with a chilly sea breeze but what the hey, couldn't really complain.

Sunday's weather was rubbish in comparison, but it made for a nice shot of a rainbow behind the city towers illuminated by the setting sun...

Getting quite excited now by the fact that my mates Mal (living in Melbourne) and Krellis (Perth) are coming to Sydney from Thursday night for a long weekend... going up to the Hunter Valley to do wine tasting i.e. drinking on Friday, then hopefully back to Bondi on Saturday... forecast is for 28 degrees!

Robin

Funny Business. Canberra.

OK so it's half six on a Wednesday night, and apart from washing some shirts (woo!) I don't have any exciting plans for the evening, so I've finally got time to update the blog...

As an aside, Hannah has much more exciting news than I do, being back in India as she is... I keep trying to get her to post something!

As I've slipped more and more into the life of a 'young professional' Sydneysider (I have to keep reminding myself that this was supposed to be a backpacking trip!) I've done some cool stuff over the last few weeks. Two weeks ago I went to a stand-up comedy night above a pub in Glebe, featuring amongst (funny) others a bizarre rant from some guy from the western suburbs about Emmanuel Kant sitting on a ceiling fan in a mixed business (corner shop) in Mount Druitt. Don't ask! And a week ago I went with some folks from work to a cabaret night at Sydney Uni, put on by a colleague who, when she's not delivering our post, runs a theatre company. The best act was probably 'depression - the musical'. Very funny.

On the last Saturday of August I saw the Sydney Swans (NSW's only AFL team) last game of the season at the Sydney Cricket Ground, universally known as the SCG. I was very keen to get to a game at the SCG as just recently I've been lucky enough at work to do a scheme design for their new stand, to be built in time for the start of the cricket season at the end of 2009. I was lucky too because I got the tickets from a colleague, who overheard that I was keen to go, and gave me four members' passes that he couldn't use for that game for free. Sweet! The members' pavilion itself was interesting in an old school sort of way, and the whole experience was a bit bizarre because of the strict dress code... I turned up looking like I was going to the office.

Then last weekend I ticked off something on my 'to do' list by hiring a car and driving down to Canberra. I mean, when else would I ever do this? Bill Bryson described Canberra as 'exceedingly dull' so to satisfy my curiosity I just had to see the place. Besides the weather forecast for Sydney looked crap (lots of rain) and it hardly ever rains in Canberra. So I picked up a car and headed off down the Hume Highway.

The drive was quick, about 3 hours if you don't stop. An unexpected highlight was driving alongside the curious 'Lake George' about half an hour outside of Canberra. I say curious because it was completely dry. Stopping at a lookout, a sign explained that the lake has no outlet to the sea, so its level goes up and down depending on how much rain falls and how much evaporates or infiltrates into the ground. The press keep saying how Australia is basically in drought conditions, and here was definite evidence of it.

Canberra is often derided as being too spread out and so difficult to walk around. This it may be but I didn't really care because I had a car! It's supposed to be a great place for cycling too, at least compared to the murderous streets and drivers of Sydney. In fact driving in Sydney is a pain in the butt too, with loads of confusing one way streets and expensive parking, even out in the suburbs. So it was with no small amusement that after I checked into my hostel, the first thing I did was drive up to the Parliament Building and park right underneath it for free. I mean, where else could you do that?

I did the tour and had a bit of a wander, including up on the grass-covered roof, which is a nice touch. The whole parliamentary system mirrors the British system so much it's weird, for example the colour scheme of the lower house matches the green of the House of Commons, and that of the upper house matches the red of the House of Lords. They even have maces and despatch boxes. In a building only completed in 1988. Odd. Anyway I got a few nice piccies including the obligatory giant stainless steel flagpole...

After that I went to the very entertaining National Museum of Australia, with an exterior that is actually more fun than the inside. I only mention this here because I wanted to post this photo:

There are lots of worthy sights and cultural things to do in Canberra, but most things shut at 5pm. So I spent the last hour or so of daylight enjoying the view from the telecoms tower at the top of Black Mountain, which is pretty much the only 'sight' open late. From here I could appreciate that Canberra's setting is actually quite beautiful, surrounded as it is by mountains, with the Snowy Mountains (home to Australia's only skiing region) just over the horizon to the south.

The Australian Capital Territory is also notorious for having very relaxed (by Australian standards) laws on porn and fireworks. I thought it would be funny to put together a little postcard-montage of some of the shopfronts that Canberra is slightly notorious for...

Part of the reason I stayed at a hostel in Canberra was to start easing myself back into the backpacker way of doing things, before I head off to India in (gulp) less than four weeks' time! I must admit I didn't do too well on this score, forgetting as I did that you don't get a towel at these places. And I forget my shower gel. Doh.

Anyway Sunday was spent moseying about the Old Parliament House, and especially the small Aboriginal 'Tent Embassy' incongruously camped across the road. This started as a protest against the 'occupation' of their land and has been semi-tolerated by the bureaucrats for decades. Kind of reminds you of some of the dirty past around here (mainly the fault of the Brits, of course...)

Back on the road again in the late afternoon, after buying some nice food from the 'old bus depot markets' and making a stop for some wine tasting at a winery by Lake George, I pulled off the highway into Goulburn, for one reason,and one reason only, The Big Merino. I hadn't seen any of the famous 'big things' since I'd last driven past The Big Banana in Coffs Harbour on the way to Sydney, just before I started back at work in April.

I wasn't disappointed... look at the size of it! Much bigger and better than The Big Banana, let alone the Giant South-West Gippsland Earthworm in Victoria.

I think I can safely leave Oz without seeing another 'big thing' now.

Robin