Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Shanghai - beguiling, entrancing, captivating.

Grubby white sky, created by heat, smog or cloud, it doesn’t really matter which; lacks shape, interest and definition, like an unwashed sheep’s fleece blanketing this mega city, trapping the heat and humidity. No pure sunlight penetrates to create light and shade on earthly structures. A mono world, where dramatic architecture appears strangely shapeless and flat, all colour has been leeched out.
Futuristic and mundane on the riverfront.
The skyline comes into its own at night, colours are resurrected as dark descends, electronically and vibrantly enhanced, pulsating and energetic – unexpectedly entrancing, captivating. Gold ingots appear to stack perpetually, like an Aladdin’s cave unable to be emptied no matter how much gold is taken. One roof top structure, like a giant’s silver filigree crown, beautifully detailed, massive; oozes opulence and drama. Ladders of gems reach to the heavens being stacked and unstacked with frenetic activity, no need for words here, the symbolism crosses all language barriers!
Buddhist temple reflected in a massive skyscraper.
22 MILLION people (give or take a few), a similar number to the entire population of Australia resides and thrives in this city. Mind boggling, incomprehensible. But it works - appears to work well, like a perfectly oiled machine - to the outsider it seems efficient and runs smoothly.

TWENTY TWO million people: Han Chinese, minority groups, expats, transients from the world over, and of course, tourists, origamied into apartment blocks, hotels and dwellings which from the air look like a complex circuit board, laid out with efficient precision. Leafy lined avenues, lush and peaceful, modest homes and share housing with outdoor wash troughs men stripped to the waist, bathing (too intrusive to photograph) interspersed with opulent mansions and slick luxurious high rise apartments and offices. Rickety appearing, but solid old wooden homes, cheek to jowl with edgy futuristic architecture, demanding: “look at me”. So many styles; confusing in their diversity; jostling for space to breathe, a little room to stretch.

Old House Hotel and excellent Purple Onion restaurant
View from Old House Hotel, complete with ivy!
Street sleepers’ here - no different to Paris or Melbourne. Beggars too - mostly unobtrusive in their need, a low-key sign of a worldwide imbalance in wealth, of things not quite right. A darker side is here too, the dispossessed, ill, unwelcome people who also belong to any city, the flip side to all the apparent wealth and glamour.

I find this a beguiling city, full of complexity and contradictions. This pulsating metropolis seems comfortable in its own skin, firmly set with its roots in different times with different players vying for power, but clearly looking to the future. Historic buildings meander along the riverfront, some beautiful art deco, solid, steeped in history. Ferries full of excited visitors skitter across the river, thankfully avoiding container vessels and massive barges, reminders that this is a working river, not just a beautiful foreground for the eye-catching buildings.
The Bund
Postcard Shanghai with the Pearl Tower desperately trying to penetrate the grubby sky and find some blue, (it must be up there somewhere). The flagship Apple store all reflecting shine and squeaky clean glass, Super Brand Mall housing the kind of brands where price-tags are discretely hidden from view. Where the air-conditioned ambience seems to be more opulent than elsewhere - a blessed relief from the relentless drippy heat and humidity.
Apple store and Pearl Tower
Reflections shimmer on the Apple
Family groups gather on The Bund, promenade, slurping frozen treats – mung beans or peas are very popular, as well as what we think of as more traditional mango and fruit flavours.

Traffic, which at first seems to be a muddle of cars, taxis, bicycles, electric motorbikes and men pulling carts laden with painfully heavy loads settles into a pattern, a dance of weaving elegance and tolerance. Perhaps there’s an awareness or acceptance that to house such a huge population, arrogant aggression and selfish road rage have no place - would upset the delicate balance. Against all odds it works, and I feel envious of a culture where ‘giving the finger’ and vicious, ugly and profane words and phrases are not part and parcel of one’s daily driving experience.
The old and new.
I’m also envious of the subway - cheap, efficient, and oh so easy to navigate! Melbourne, are you listening? Why can’t we get public transport right? And wifi? Our antiquated system, outrageously expensive, is positively archaic – How wonderful that I can sit in a café in Shanghai, enjoy an excellent coffee, and communicate easily via email with friends around the world (as long as I don’t want to use Facebook or look at a Blog – but that’s a can of worms I won’t open) but shamefully, free wifi is not commonplace in Melbourne cafes and is an additional expense in many Australian hotels.
Low rise streetscape and umbrellas always ready
for rain or shine!
Odd being a lone foreign woman walking, it feels safe though, there’s no nasty edge, smartraveller.com is worth a look for the common scams. One takes care and doesn’t put oneself in harms way. Not enough time, sadly, to do a walking tour to discover the history of Jews seeking sanctuary here. But the Propaganda Poster Museum is fascinating, secreted away in the basement of a building, no signage at all - word of mouth is a wonderful thing amongst travellers!
Leafy lined boulevard in The French Concession -
note the lady with the umbrella on her electric scooter.



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Thursday, August 4, 2011

on Hong Kong, Macau and China


Torrential rain in Hong Kong
I hadn't expected to see Snoopy on a petrol cap in mainland China!
 Dragon Fruit

It's easy to forget that Portugal had control over Macau until very recently. According to Wikipedia, trading between Portugal and China began well before the 1500's when a trading base was established, with  Portuguese traders being allowed to anchor ships in Macau's harbors and carry out trading activities, but they weren't allowed to stay onshore. 

Around 1552, the Portugese obtained temporary permission to erect storage sheds onshore, in order to dry out goods drenched by sea water. It wasn't until later that the Portuguese established a permanent settlement in Macau.  China retained sovereignty and Chinese residents were subject to Chinese law, but the territory was under Portuguese administration. All of which sounds like a real headache for everyone.

The architecture has a distinctly non Chinese feel.
Old and new in Macau. 
 
Warrior protecting a casino
 Elephant tusk? Exquisite, intricate carving.

During the 16th century, Macau also served as a trafficking point for Chinese slaves to Portugal. Many Chinese boys were captured in mainland China, and were brought, via Macau to Portugal, where they were sold as slaves. Some were on-sold in Brazil, which was a Portuguese colony. Chinese slaves were prized by the Portuguese and regarded better quality than slaves from other countries.

The Portuguese retained control over Macau until 1979. Eventually, the stage was set for the return of Macau to full Chinese sovereignty as a Special Administrative Region in 1999. (As is Hong Kong)

The PRC has promised that, under its “one country, two systems” formula, China's socialist economic system will not be practiced in Macau and that Macau will enjoy a high degree of autonomy in all matters except foreign and defense affairs until at least 2049, fifty years after the handover.

All of which is a long way of getting around to saying that the custard tarts are fantastic, and may well come from a Portuguese recipe.
Portuguese Egg Tarts @ KFC

*I'll be in China for the next couple of weeks, and due to their restrictions will be unable to access Blogger, or visit and comment on other blogs. But I promise I'll think of the blogosphere each time I munch on a custard tart!

Information on Macau here, however re visas, it's important to know that if you travel to Macau from mainland China and wish to return to mainland China, you'll need a double entry visa.

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Tuesday, August 2, 2011

on acupuncture

Like an echidna I lie,
sprouting carefully placed, quill-like needles,
quivering with minute electrical impulses.
---
Dirty brown coal, heavily polluting and subsidised obscenely,
originates from open-cut mine,  powering generators in far off LoyYang.
Its product travels across the state in lethal, ropey wires -
would annihilate anyone coming into contact
by accident
or design.

Channelled into ever-smaller increments to be used here for nurturing and healing.

Alligator clips attached to fine needles settle into my tense, troubled muscles.
Delicate, rhythmic pulsing lulls me to sleep.
Enfolded in tender warmth, muscles gratefully absorb this strange experience,
to be refreshed and healed -
painlessly.


* A Drabble is a story told in 100 words. No more, no less.

**Thanks to giftlog.com for the photo. They also have other free photos of a variety of Australian animals. Link here.
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Friday, July 29, 2011

A Drabbly Twittery thing

This thing titled Twitter, was tempting in two thousand and ten, but I turned away;
no tolerance for tawdry tittle-tattle.
Seemed to be for tools and temptresses, trumpeting their tantalising treats to toadying troops with trite remarks and toxic tirades - transformed tranquillity to a need for tranquilisers and therapy.

Time passed.
No longer trivialised.
A twinge of envy for the aficionado’s ability to tweet trillingly, tapping out taut messages like a timpani.

Will I be able to traverse the tricky, twittery trail without falling into a trap?
Training wheels attached!
Now to transform this trajectory into tentative, tweety things.

***
A Drabble is a story told in 100 words. No more, no less.

Of course I couldn't resist sharing some birds 
depicting different styles of Tweeting!
Magpie - sharing joyous harmonies
Pelican - can be awkward, but is quirkily attractive
Brahminy Kite - a loner, focused, soaring free
Little Corellas - flocking gibberish -
can't hear a single voice over the collective noise
Kookaburra - premeditated
Rainbow Lorikeet - focused on sweetness
Chookies! - produce something wholesome every day 
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Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Australian White Ibis

I always thought they were ugly birds, loud, clumsy. Long beak stabbing into urban grass to extract buggy, tasty morsels;

but sitting by the Brisbane River, enjoying my lunchtime picnic during the Happiness conference, observe with 'mindful' seeing eyes.

Saw instead of gangly awkwardness, a beautiful bird, bright eyed, with delicate plumes and elegant beak, displaced from its natural habitat of swamps and wetlands, suffering from the devastating effects of drought and flood, unable to forage there for insects, and other creepy crawlies. Makes the most of a lazy feed of picnic scraps. Leave their poop

and own this space.


A Drabble is a story told in 100 words. No more, no less.

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Sunday, July 24, 2011

Peace shattered

Unfathomable act of dreadful violence sends shock waves ricocheting around the globe

to settle in a far off land. Grieving, loving, thoughts are sent back,
helpless to do otherwise but be with you in spirit.

This vicious act rips at the face of fragile, precious peace. Beauty and young lives violated, a chilling nightmare for all concerned and all watching; horrified, sickened, repulsed.

---

No knee-jerk reaction.
Shaken and shattered - yes, but wise counsel still; calm and measured. A way to respond to terror without resort to heated passion and vengeance.

A beacon of hope in this troubled world.

Thankyou Norway.
East Side Gallery. Berlin.


a Drabble is a story told in 100 words. No more no less.
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Friday, July 22, 2011

Common Heath aka 'pretty pink flowers'


Insignificant plant, unfriendly with its spiky, scratchy, sneaky, sharp leaves.

Just the right height to scrape at summer-bare legs, and drop dry leaves into gaiters and socks,
to work their way down into well laced boots,
irritating, itchy, till you stop and empty them out …

time after time.

Some might call Victoria’s floral emblem almost boring

“Common Heath”- an uninspiring, ho hum name for a lackluster plant.

Comes into its own in winter coastal heathlands;
extrudes buds from spindly twig-like stems.
Small tubular flowers - white, pale pink, rose, crimson. Brighten the drab winter bushland with bursts of glorious colour.









a Drabble is a story told in 100 words. No more, no less.

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Monday, July 18, 2011

Morning glory at Cooloothin

Kookaburra perches, alert, on the lone buffalo horn.*

Keen, silent, watchful.
Swoops suddenly.
Beak clacks as he wheels back to his morning haunt to whack and gulp a tasty morsel, recently living, already changing form to become his source of energy.

Whip birds crack.

The morning birdsong fills the air, rises to a crescendo that for a while becomes deafening.

In the distance, sunlight begins to creep.
Pauses momentarily.
Jumps.
Zig-zags tree to tree.
Illuminates trunk upon trunk; advancing in fits and starts.
Pauses again, then leaps across the nearby creek, gathers momentum and continues its inexorable advance.

Welcome Warmth!
Is this my best angle?
Or this?
Sunlight catching the trees through louvered windows
The sun seems to leap across the creek in the mornings.

*I can't believe I forgot to take a photo of the kookaburra on breakfast watch.

a Drabble is a story told in 100 words. No more. No less.

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Monday, July 4, 2011

Blog break continued ...

I'll be back in a couple of weeks as I am unlikely to be have internet connection on the journey home. The plan is to return to Victoria via western NSW.  Hope to see you back here then.

Full moon over Brisbane June 2011.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

Blog break activities: Royal National Park

Small green patch shimmers, peacock coloured in the glaring sun.

The wood duck unaware of imminent danger pecks happily at grubs in the grass. A sea eagle soars, a mere speck far in the blue sky.

A shriek of alarm stirs the birds from their grazing, they scatter frantically to seek sanctuary from the predator. The duck, temporarily blinded, takes off with gusto. Then careens headlong, heavily into the tin shed with a loud thump. The sound reverberates through the campground.
Crashes heavily to the ground.
Appears dead ...
staggers, dazed, confused and tries again, more successfully.

Safe for the timebeing.

Sulphur Crested Cockatoo ruffled because we wouldn't share bikkies and cheese.
Royal National Park
Ferry to Cronulla

Rainbow Lorikeet checking that it's safe to emerge

***
A Drabble is a story told in 100 words. No more. No less.

*Blog break activities on the trip to the Happiness and its Causes conference in Brisbane June 2011. You can read about the conference here.
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Friday, July 1, 2011

Blog break activities: Wollemi National Park

Sub-zero camping at Wollemi National Park. NSW.
A pest of Suzuki’s
Pepper the remote camping ground with perky sputterings.

One aged specimen stumbles -
Consternation!

After beer and animated discussion, is jacked up all askew, like a horse with one leg up, waiting for its foot to be shod.

Tattooed blokes lie on frozen tarps,
freezing fingers fumble and eyes peer hopefully.
More concerned discussion.

Eventually receives tender ministrations as beefy arms delve deep into its gizzards:
the healing touch!

Later, much later, as beery shenanigans win over respect for fellow campers
the irritating visitors and their vehicles bounce jauntily across the tussocky grass.
Play follow the leader.
Dip and drink at the creek crossing.
Rattle up the other side, leaving parallel tracks of dampness to explore places further afield.

Leaving us once again to drink in the solitude.


*Blog break activities on the trip to the Happiness and its Causes conference in Brisbane June 2011. You can read about the conference here.

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Happiness is ...

Bald and bearded silverbacks jog, nutty brown and healthy - smiles wide, gleeful.

Aching joints forgotten, or ignored in the joy of this moment - glorious anticipation!

“Got the right board mate?”
“No worries”
Tradies* taking the day off to surf in the near perfect conditions.
Bodies long and lean still,
stretch carefully, a graceful rhythm: yoga’s ‘Salute to the Sun’.
Injury prevention better than cure!

A moment drinking in perfection. Waves, sky, land. No jarring element. Boards tucked securely under strong arms. Long, short, plain or intricately airbrushed, the unsung artist’s work will soon be wet.

Sand, hard and glistening, welcomes jogging feet.

A swarm now, word’s got around

Surf’s up!
Surfers appear as black dots waiting for a wave.
***
* a tradie is a tradesman such as carpenter, bricklayer or similar, who have a reputation for working when there's no surf.

A Drabble is a story told in 100 words. No more. No less.

Photos taken at Broken Head near Byron Bay NSW on the trip to the Happiness and its Causes conference June 2011 in Brisbane. You can read about it here.
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Tuesday, June 28, 2011

The journey to Happiness: Waves


Argumentative waves

antagonistic; at odds with each other and the world, fight their way to shore. Push and elbow others aside for supremacy.

In their race to win they fling aside tendrils of spray; shovel mounds of sand from ocean floor to add weight to their angry bluster. Yellow now and murky, they jostle and elbow aside smaller kin, devour, then attack the shore with ferocious assault.

A pair of pied oyster-catchers probe for food, oblivious to their apparent peril, delicate at the water’s edge.

Footsteps, one pair horse-shoe heeled, the other spine ribbed, weave companionably along the desolate sands.



***
A drabble is a story told in 100 words. No more. No less.

Photos taken at the Bongil Bongil National Park NSW on the road trip to the Happiness and its Causes conference in Brisbane June 2011.
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Friday, June 24, 2011

Beauty and waste

Lazy waves lack the energy to break with any enthusiasm. Lethargic and purposeless, barely shift minute grains of sand.
They flop to shore and pause as if to survey the scene. Slide, exhausted back down the sandy shore. Too much effort to make a break and stand out from their lacklustre mates gently forming behind.
A shark egg, shiny black and spiky, clung to seaweed.

Sharks, a life form being plundered and slaughtered as if expendable. Fins a delicacy, sliced from living flesh, the bodies still writhing, flung aside, count for naught, to drown and sink.

Mass extinctions closer daily.

***
Link to an article on the frightful impact that humans are having on the oceans here. In a nutshell overfishing and pollution remove the conditions needed for fish to survive in many of our earth's oceans. At all.

We'll be left with algaes and possibly jellyfish.

The seas provide up to a 1/4 of the world's protein - that's a huge amount to kill off in our lifetime. Scientists expected this to happen in the lifetimes of our children or grandchildren (and won't they thank us for this willful destruction) but it's happening now. It's like there's some kind of mass, worldwide amnesia (wrong word, but I can't think of the correct one) happening, or do we as a species want to kill ourselves off?

A drabble is a story told in 100 words. No more. No less.
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Thursday, June 23, 2011

The journey to Happiness: Point Hicks Light Station

Point Hicks Lighthouse
The lightkeeper points – “Tassie is that way, and Antarctica. We get seven metre swells on the rocks there. The weather station is broken ‘cos the winds blew it apart.” Long straggly ponytail snakes from under his regulation cap. He continues “The light used to float in a mercury bath; it sent many lightkeepers insane, but it saved lots of lives too. If the mariners could see the reddened windows they knew it was time to hightail it out of there or they’d hit the rocks and go under. There were always two people up there from 4:30pm to 8am to keep the light burning. Even though they were so isolated, the light keeper's children weren’t allowed to mix with the children of the assistants. They could go six months without supplies if the weather was bad. Tough life”.
View from the top, looking north.
Tough life indeed, and this region is remote even today. The roads are rough and narrow, but the remoteness adds to its attraction for those who are prepared to camp with few mod-cons. Actually, that should probably read no mod-cons as there are two long drop toilets and that's really it. BYO water, or get it from the creek. No power. No phone reception. It's peaceful!

These days the solar light is mainly used by local fishermen and small boat operators as the main shipping lanes have been moved further out to sea to keep away from the oil and gas fields. But things still occasionally go wrong and the lightkeeper may need to hang perilously from the walkway in a howling gale to correct a problem. But it’s rare problem now, thankfully.

Captain Cook was the first European known to have named Point Hicks. He named it after Lieutenant Hicks who sighted it first from the Endeavour in 1770 when they were heading to Tahiti to observe the transit of Venus across the face of the sun. The area, rich in sea life and animals had been home to a number of Aboriginal tribes for thousands of years, but as has been so often the case, this fact was overlooked on European settlement.

Before the lighthouse was erected in 1888, many ships foundered battling the wild seas and difficult weather. Even when the lighthouse was complete, vessels foundered within range of its light.  Heavy seas, fog, sea mist, maybe poor seamanship or unseaworthy vessels were the possible causes.

The area on which the light-station is built is described as being a bleak, desolate and windswept point. It’s an accurate description. Everything had to be carried by ship, and landed during lulls in the weather. Livestock including goats, sheep goats and cows were kept to supplement the irregular supplies.

The cast-iron internal staircase was cast in Melbourne and the lantern house was built in England. I find it amazing that there was no one skilled enough to make the lantern house in Australia. It would have taken months to transport it.
Looking up the staircase - showing the underside of the staircase
It is a beautiful structure and it’s possible nowadays to book and stay at the assistant's cottages if you want a holiday with a difference.

According to Robert Haldane in 'A Beacon on the Wilderness Coast:
 The Story of Point Hicks (Cape Everard)' (link), during the First World War mines were laid by a German raider along the Melbourne-Sydney shipping lanes and at least one ship struck a mine. During the Second World War a freighter along the coastline was torpedoed and sunk by a Japanese submarine, 38 lives were lost. This sort of information was censored heavily during the wars, and even today is greeted with amazement. It's as if the government wanted to eradicate these records entirely and for eternity.
Looking down from the top (camera held at arm's length)
The lighthouse tower is open to visitors, and the view is breathtaking, but there have apparently been complaints from some prudish visitors about the obelisk and cairn marking Cook’s voyage and commemorating those who lost their lives in the various shipping incidents. They consider the shape too phallic. Tut tut.

In hindsight, the thing that brought me most happiness that day wasn't the wonderful views, the great conversation, or the interesting people I met, but traipsing around behind the tour-guide, cum ranger, cum caretaker, light-keeper and jack of all trades, observing the taking of meteorological readings and watching them being posted to the Bureau of Meteorology. Where would we be without them or the data they contribute?
Taking meteorological readings at Point Hicks.
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Tuesday, June 21, 2011

The journey to Happiness

The goal was to head to Brisbane from Melbourne to attend the “Happiness and its Causes” conference in early June. I find the conference title a bit twee and schmaltzy, conjuring up images of falsely cheerful games show hosts with toothy smiles, but the calibre of the presenters was good so I thought I’d give it a go.

Flying would have been convenient, but lacking excitement (hopefully!) and so the brilliant idea to drive a thousand and something kilometres, and explore new (to us) National Parks on the way was hatched. A couple were somewhat off the beaten track, where the amenities included pit toilets, a river for water (with strict instructions for all water to be boiled), and not much else … no power, no internet, no electronic connection, nothing. Perfect spots to rejuvenate flagging spirits! I'll share that later on.

Two private camping grounds offered free wifi, but frustratingly it didn’t work at all at one, and at the other you had to be sitting ‘just so’ for it to work. Visualise me huddled at an awkward angle, beanie and coat protecting me against a brisk sea breeze, perched at a wooden picnic bench, bush turkeys at my feet, with the ocean in the distance, a lighthouse on the headland and dense bush surrounding the not very large campground - it was glorious.
From this ...
Thurra - no electricity, no internet, no running water
To go from that to a conference in a city, even one the size of Brisbane was a bit of a contrast – all chattering excitement and enthusiasm and radio broadcasting and high tech communication and security.

There were monks, and other religious people, professionals, retirees, actors, TV personalities, in fact people from all walks of life – nearly 2½ thousand of them, all there to learn something new, or seeking insights or reassurance or to share their own experiences.
... to this:
Brisbane Convention and Exhibition Centre.
Anyhow… It’s finished, my conference handouts are dog-eared, scrawled with notes and I’m almost ready to begin sharing that aspect of my trip with you over at traverselife. I’ve also vigorously patted myself on the back for resisting the temptation to purchase a mountain of books from the extremely well stocked bookstore.

I  now have a window of almost two weeks with good, reliable internet connection, then I’m off exploring again on the way home. So I’ll only be around for a while before I’m out of range for a few more weeks – the aim is to travel inland on the way back, through some of the desert and arid country. In the meantime, it’s good to be back and see your warm comments wishing me well.

Thankyou all ☺

Monday, June 20, 2011

Blog break activities - Thurra National Park

The steady "thuk, thuk," of fat, lazy drops of rain,
flopping, lethargic on the tent awning,
unhurried, yet wetly persistent; fall from overhanging leaves and limbs.

The swift flap, swoosh, of the black currawong’s wings
come to peruse our camping supplies.
Well-sealed containers, transparent, tease the birds.
An empty promise of tantalising goodies.

Claws scrabble ineffectually; it’s a pointless exercise. We won’t feed them; encourage dependence and disease. Eyes bright, accusing, they fly off, defeated.

Mozzies buzz; keen to feed - undeterred by rain and cold.

Think of friends touring Europe, the art and culture,
crowds and queues,

and feel content.

After the rain.
Thurra National Park. North East Victoria.
Thurra National Park.