autumn in ballarat

Random stuff

2010-04-29T21:34:00.002+10:00

Winter is here. Not officially but may as well be. We went from 20-22 degree days to regularly in the mid to low teens within a few days, and with the exception of a few sunny days since, it's been an icy blast in Ballarat of late. The big beautiful trees are now mostly bare, piles of leaves all over the place. And today I wore my wool scarf, upgraded from the lovely light scarf gifted by my daughter last Father's Day.

I've now acquired all the bits and pieces to ride my brand new second hand motorbike - all except the learner's permit. I passed the test but have been waiting now for 12 days for the ticket to come in the mail. The wait is probably a good one though, all the nervous tension has passed and I am calm and ready to ride, when the time is right. And hopefully before the roads get icy.

I took part in the famous Lake Relay last week - raced for my club, Ballarat Harriers, in Division 2. This is an annual event at Lake Wendouree (Wendouree Paddock at the moment, though some ponds appearing) , where individuals run 3 km legs each. It's a race where the four local clubs compete against each other, and we got second in Div 2.

I ran my leg in 10:56, which is easily a new fastest time per kilometre for me. I paced it really well, finished hard and am very happy with that effort. This weekend is the Nichols Nightmare out at Mt Helen: my parents are visiting, which is nice, except they are likely to see me in fine shape to start and horrid shape to finish. The Nightmare is run around Moss Avenue, which is bad enough in a car. :( Will be fun though, I love it.

MITB

Fair dinkum Aussie-isms

2010-04-23T18:26:00.003+10:00

I'll tell you something funny - well i think its funny, and nice too.

I was at uni yesterday - taking international business this semester - and we had a guest speaker, Neville Greenbank. Guest speakers are rare and novel at uni, and this was one rare dude. Nev (what a cool name) is an older man now, maybe 70-odd, and a farmer from Snake Valley, west of Ballarat. He is now a very successful entrepreneur in the midwest of USA, operating a mobile wheat cleaning business that controls 98% of the market. Smart dude too. Nev had his lovely wife with him, all set up in a nice dress and her hair in a ribbon, quite a 50's scene.

So in comes Nev to talk to the class of 17 students. About half men half women, and three of us are Australian. The rest of the class are Indians, Chinese and one Mexican. The teacher is also Chinese.

When you are around international students a fair bit, as i am, you start to notice how you change the way you speak to be clearer and that you take less shortcuts with language, and use less slang. It may not be necessary but it happens automatically so you are sure people are following what you say.

Someone forgot to tell Nev about this little rule. Wow. When you are tuned in to it, as I was then, I was staggered how much of what he said was slang or a really Australian way of saying things. Almost every sentence, phrase, answer that he gave was some sort of slang. He wasn't hamming it up for the crowd, he simply spoke that way all the time and figured we would all get it. We might have, but gee it was funny. Not only was I surprised, I was proud. We really do have our own way of saying things, and so self-deprecating.

ps. on language - I went to NZ a few years back and some of the locals I met thought I was from Sydney. I was surprised and quizzed them on this. They said it was my accent - apparently I didn't sound like a Melbournian.

pps. when I moved from Wangaratta to Ballarat I started work in an office. There was a friendly guy over the partition. He smiled a lot and always said something, but he had such a thick accent that I could never grasp what it was he said, so I just mumbled hi back. Keen to break the ice and have a good chat, I asked my boss who the Irish guy was: he shrugged and had no idea who I was talking about. "Him", I said, pointing at the man. "Irish! Ha ha no, that's Dan. He's a Ballarat boy, born and bred."

Up hill and down dale

2010-04-19T18:43:00.005+10:00

I used to race a bike: raced it here in Ballarat, raced in Castlemaine, and raced from Melbourne to Ballarat. By far the hardest race I ever did was the Mt Baw Baw Classic - 97 km from Warrigul to the summit of the mountain. It's a stunning route, out through the rolling green fields and hills and dairies of Jindivick and Neerim, then a long descent in to Noojee. Then it's a fairly long climb, not too steep, towards Icy Creek and Tanjil Bren, where a friend of mine has a cabin.

Then the party starts. When you get to the main gate in to the Baw Baw resort, you hit a wall. The next 6 kilometres, the last 6 kilometres, are an average of 13% gradient with a maximum somewhere around 22%. This section of the race took me 45 minutes, and I was in okay condition. It was a war site, bodies falling off bikes, legs cramping. It's considered one of the hardest and steepest roads in the world to race up. I recall laughing at one point as it was so steep I couldn't imagine moving up it without a ladder.

The weekend just past I think I found the local running equivalent to the final pitch on Baw Baw. The club had its round four race in Buninyong, a hilly township south of Ballarat. I chose the 3 km race rather than the 5 km - still getting my race fitness and legs, so to speak. I was warned it was steep so went the conservative option. I'm glad I did.

It was a handicap, and I was the back marker, 60 seconds behind the next runner and 14:10 from the front runners. Over a little bridge, left along a dirt track, down a dip and right, then climb. Easy at first, then on to moderate as we climbed up out of a court. Cross the road on to the track again and BANG. You are on Innes Hill, a short and extremely sharp climb to a lovely grassy hill.

The track wound left and right around spindly trees, blocking a view of the top. I knew it was coming so had started easy, hoping to push through the climb and make up big time on the others. It worked, but only because most people walked up it. About 75% through I could see the top, and lifted my eyes for a look. Then I had a Baw Baw moment, a short laugh. Somehow it got steeper and I nearly ground to a total stop, spinning my wheels in the gravel. A short burst and I was out and over, and caught the guy in front and four others in 200 metres more. That climb is the hardest 4 minutes of running I have ever done.

I reeled in 8 others and got tenth, and it appears I set a new club record for the 3km distance at this event, which is held yearly. I'm pretty pleased. But at the lake tonight with the training group, doing 500m sets, my legs were telling a different story. They were still on Innes Hill, or was it Baw Baw?

____

A gorgeous autumn day today. Had a coffee early then drove west up Sturt Street towards work. A strong northerly was blowing piles and piles of golden leaves across the road, my window open to the warm air. It's such a good time.

MITB

In print

2010-04-15T15:03:00.003+10:00

In keeping with my only moderately playful motto that this blog is "the big news before it becomes news", I'll use my platform to announce that a good friend of mine will be published in Friday's edition of The Courier's Letters to the Editor.

For those unaware, The Courier is the most prestigious daily newspaper in Ballarat, where only the finest and sharpest local minds, and most others, get published.

Be sure to buy a copy and send it over, as I don't read it.

:)

MITB

MITB influences people

2010-04-13T16:01:00.007+10:00

It's a big day today, because I just came across something quite interesting.

Let me take you back a few months to Wednesday 13 January 2010. Here's what I wrote in my second blog ever:

"Big idea 1: time to do away with three tiers of government. No more state or local government, but instead regional and federal governments only."

Just another good idea from the dream factory? Maybe. But Griffith University has released a report showing "that 42 per cent of Australians now favour creating regional governments, up from 32 per cent less than two years ago." Wow.

Michael Stutchbury, Economics Editor for The Australian newspaper, expands on this topic - check this article for more on a big and growing idea.

MITB

Of Hovhannes and Mathers III

2010-04-13T15:55:00.003+10:00

I don’t recall ever listening to music as a kid. And by kid I mean young- under 10. I have three older sisters: the first one is 7 years older, then 9 and 11 years older. I basically grew up around teenage girls, and while I remember their posters of Wham! and Rick Astley, I don’t recall ever hearing their music. I have a few memories of Martin Plaza film clips, and I certainly know a whole heap of songs from that period – Gold 104 in the car - but music wasn’t a part of my life at that age. I was always running around outside, morning and night. Plus, my parents didn’t have piles of Deep Purple records.

When I was about 12, my sister moved in with her boyfriend. They lived in a caravan in our backyard, which I thought the coolest thing. He was in to music that was at the time called heavy metal – Poison, Skid Row, Whitesnake, Def Leppard, Faster Pussycat. Today it’s called glam rock, and boy, was he a glam rocker – big hair, tight jeans, bass guitar.

He was impressive, and so was the music. Here was an older male who was able to give me a lesson in real life, and to hear his stories told through his music. I started wearing his cast-off heavy metal t-shirts, and getting right in to the bands he liked. Up went the posters of Guns N Roses. My brother and I even started a band with some neighbours, and wrote atrocious lyrics and performed guitar solos on tennis racquets. I loved the driving rhythm, the energy. Finally I was listening.

When I was 15 we were living in another house, and my neighbours were a Sri Lankan family with two sons about the same age as my brother (2 years younger than me) and I. We quickly became good friends. These two guys were into basketball and a style of music that was totally new to me: hip hop.

Pretty soon I was wearing Cross Colours and Stussy, had an undercut and was listening to Snoop Dogg, Johnny Gill and Salt N Pepa. I started hanging out awkwardly at bus stops and shopping centres, scaring parents and myself. I wasn’t cut out for the street scene, I was too polite. You ever met a thug that says please when he tries to steal your shoes? That would be me. (not that I did, but you get my point). I opted out early, but I got hooked on the music: the clever lyrics, the aggression and energy.

When I was 21 I moved out of home and got an apartment on Glenferrie Road, Hawthorn. It was 300 metres from a pretty decent nightclub (yeah right), and I knew some guys who got me in each week for free. I started to go out just to dance, and loved the music – house, hard house and techno. The driving bass, the high energy.

(When I was 31) My brother gave me an iPod for my birthday. I was so excited – I was finally in the gang. Running with music is so cool, and it adds about 10% to my credibility. But the revelation comes not in owning it, but in selecting music to play. Going through my cd’s, and downloading songs online, has made me examine the role of music in my life and highlighted the influences: not just music influences, but key events, times and people that make me who I am.

Hearing new music with a friend is as much about sharing an experience with them –as it is about the music. I see this now.

Listening to Sean’s records in his caravan was his way of welcoming me to his world, telling his stories. A guy who people probably crossed the road to avoid (looks are deceiving) had someone listening and learning. Nodding to hip hop with Brad and Al,
Panos and Steve at uni telling me about a new Armand Van Helden track. Their world opened to me. Or dear Alec playing Prof. Alan Hovhannes City of Lights for me: his passion, shared. These moments aren’t about music, they are a very basic and human need - sharing. “I love this music, it does something to me, I want you to have that too.”

It happened just the other day, all the way back 19 years to heavy metal. I still love it, and I still love that memory. It will happen again – what will it be next.

Some of my music

Eninem, Metallica, Raekwon, Goldfrapp, Dr Dre, Grandaddy, Joanna Newsom, Fugees, Mos Def and BlackStar, Tool, Ministry of Sound, Rage Against the Machine, the Offspring, Audioslave, classical and more.

8 Mile Road

2010-04-12T18:40:00.002+10:00

That's the song I'm listening to now. It's what I listen to, loudly, when I am in great mood.

Because I am in a great mood.

My motorbike is here! I went and paid for it last night and my friend rode it home for me from Point Cook. He gave it a bit of a going over on the freeway and said it handled very well, had good power on the hills and sat well on the road. I drove next to him and behind him, eyeing off my machine. It's a beautiful thing.

And, picking up my Sunday Musings theme, I'll share with the dear reader that tonight I trained at Lake Wendouree and recorded a new PB lap time for the 6 km - 23:54 mins. This is the first time I have gone under 24 mins, and in fact my previous PB was 24:27 mins. I am thrilled and feeling very fit. I think the racing is already having an impact.

Same friend is coming over tonight to help me service the bike and give me some lessons on caring for it. I should be doing more of my uni assignment, but hey...

MITB

Sunday musing

2010-04-11T13:58:00.004+10:00

I joined a local running club recently. After slowly withdrawing from road cycling late in 2008 and early 2009, I took up running to keep fit and to stay in touch with some friends. My fitness built up quickly and soon enough running was my new thing - I love it, it's a great outlet for me. I've been running three or four times a week for nearly 18 months, and have done a 10km race and a half marathon too.

So I joined the Ballarat Harriers at the start of the cross country season. Got me some new Nike trail shoes, and off I went. Had three races now: one along Yarrowee Creek in Nerrina, a couple of laps of the Mt Buninyong crater, and yesterday a 2 mile (3.2 km) race at Lake Wendouree.My goals are to stay fit, have fun and make new friends. So far so good.

I've been getting quicker each race and yesterday ran the distance in 11:55 minutes, easily a new PB at around 3:45 minutes per km. Very happy with that. And happy to be part of the club too - great people, very supportive atmosphere and well run. Should be a good autumn and winter of racing.

Had breakfast out with my little girl and a friend yesterday morning, and saw an old cycling mate, his wife and 6 month old. It was a cool morning and great to be out in Ballarat, rugged up and drinking coffee with good folk. A really nice vibe here at present. Hope you are feeling it too wherever you are.

MITB

NEWSFLASH Man waits for bike as world turns

2010-04-08T20:44:00.007+10:00

I'm getting my motorbike some time between tomorrow and next Thursday. The wait is a long one. Luckily I am not sitting watching the driveway or counting and recounting my money before it all goes. Yeah, um, nothing like that, pffft, no way.

What I am doing is shopping online for all the bits and pieces that will allow me to hit the road as soon as 1) I pass my test and 2) I have a bike to ride. I'm talking about a helmet, gloves, some riding boots, and most importantly, a jacket.

A leather jacket.

This is so exciting. Finally. Pretty keen on the RJays Vantage, but swinging around wildly, as is my wont. Better lock it in shortly though, 7 days goes quickly when you are really, really busy with stuff and aren't just looking at the photo of your bike online and telling everyone who asks just how nice it is and counting money and cleaning the garage so it has a spot, and stuff like that.

MITB

Cross and self-referencing: the new paradigm

2010-04-07T12:43:00.003+10:00

Saw a pretty cool article in The Australian 'Review' section on the weekend. It's a long read but worth it if you are into blogging or writing, or comparing the two. Or something.

Check this out

What to wear on an autumn day

2010-04-06T15:27:00.003+10:00

The weather is beautiful in Ballarat at the moment, and the trees are alive with reds, yellows and oranges. Victoria Street, our grand boulevard that is somehow deadly quiet to traffic, is stunning. Pretty soon those massive trees will be bare and the grey skies will frame starkly the branches, reminding me of a Tim Burton film.

Each night of late I have needed an extra blanket and the heater on low. Each morning I step outside and decide I won't need a jumper. Today it was 18 degrees at 830 as I left for work, but the trick here is, at 830 18 degrees feels warm. Late in the day, when it hasn't warmed up at all, it feels cold. Why is that?

I keep looking at my beautiful winter coat and scarf, wondering when I'll need them. Soon enough. For now, I get to wear the gorgeous cotton scarf my little girl gave me for Father's Day last year, and a thin beanie my wife knitted me. Such lovely items.

In the one day I can bask in golden sun while running early, then rug up against the cold winds late in the day. It's a great time of year.

MITB

On honesty

2010-04-05T20:45:00.002+10:00

Here's some honesty for you.

Yesterday's post was extraordinarily middle class of me. It has left me uneasy and wondering what my blog is about. When I started it I thought I would be able to provide some pretty trivial and perhaps humorous commentary on things that turn through my head. Coffee runs through it often, perhaps literally I have that much. But looking back over On Loyalty, I really have to wonder whether I have better things to think about. I know it's light hearted and all, but dear me. How's this, an online existential crisis.

So to prove a point to myself more than anything, and to perhaps start a new theme where I transcend banality and confront you with the inner workings of a busy learned man, here's a list of things that I am contemplating now, in no particular order:

1. the 'acting role' I am starting with a government department tomorrow. how does this sit with me? round and round.
2. music. a friend introduced me to the band Tool recently. i bought a cd of theirs today. i am finding this to be quite profound.
3. children. another due in 10 weeks. serious stuff. a guy at the cycling club just named his new girl the same name as my girl. probably no link but very nice all the same.
4. networks and friends. meeting new people all the time, thought it got harder as you get older but apparently not. fun too.
5. hobbies. working hard to try new things and see where some passions lie. love reading and thinking but want something I can touch or hold or build. hmm.

Good, I feel better now. A decent purge, probably no more interesting but feels ok. :) Leave a comment and tell me how you view it.

MITB

On loyalty

2010-04-04T12:00:00.005+10:00

It's finally happened. I knew it would at some stage, but it still caught me by surprise.

I know everywhere else has done it for at least a year, maybe two. But why change, and why now?

Do we deserve this?

It's affecting my decision making each day - I am now confused. I was rooted to one place, and now that is up for grabs again. Do I go back to my old place of comfort?

Why do you have to charge $3.50 for a coffee? $3 worked beautifully for you. You were different, and we looked past your average grind because the price was right. But now you cost the same as everywhere else, and when it all costs the same, decisions are made on other factors, not price.

To my old haunt two doors away, I ask solemnly and with cap in hand, can I please come back?

MITB

Spectator sport

2010-04-03T17:56:00.002+11:00

No, not Formula 1 or even AFL.

I visited a friend yesterday at his home. He is quite a handyman, and it appears a craftsman also. He is making his own guitar and it's amazing - a 3/4 size Rickenbacker, if I have the name right, as used by Lennon. I thought he meant Lenin. I'm not a Beatles fan and didn't think he was a communist. There you go.

After a coffee and chat, he wanted to show me a new shelf set he built for his study. It's made from MDF, and is a series of cubes on two levels. It sits on the floor, it's simple, and he painted part of it red, so it also looks stylish. He has his work folders in it, and on top, Artichoke and Frankie magazines.

I know all of this because I stood looking at it for nearly 20 minutes.

Ten minutes in his wife joined us. Between us, we analysed this shelf to within an inch of its life. Not the design and construction - oh no, that's not important. We talked about how he had arranged books, how the shelves were different widths, the use of paint on part but not all the shelf. I rearranged books, his wife wanted to up end some folders for balance, and he was shifting awkwardly. I imagined the neighbours seeing us through the window - "oh there's that clever guy showing off his new shelf. Nice man, lovely wife. Hey, he's still there. There's three of them now. That's 15 minutes, what are they doing, he hasn't moved. Is this for real, 20 minutes? Dear god, lock the door."

Funny stuff.
MITB

New wheels

2010-04-02T14:55:00.002+11:00

I've bought myself a motorbike - it's my first and I'm pretty excited. I get it in two weeks.

It's a 1996 Suzuki GSF 250V Bandit. I am doing the learner's test in mid-April and will have this ready to go when I'm 'legal'. I wanted a cruisy bike first up, rather than a sport model like my brother's CBR600. I can't handle that sort of bike yet. It's a naked frame, and when I grow up it might become a Buell. Who knows.

Version 2.0

2010-03-29T21:54:00.002+11:00

Mini blog: I've changed my settings so that anyone who reads this blog, if anyone reads this blog, they can leave a comment. No need to be a member - if you enjoy the blog, or want to hear more about a topic, or have an urge to say something, leave a comment.

M.I.T.B.

Back to real life, but not the same

2010-03-29T21:17:00.003+11:00

Thailand has changed me. Not in that 'wow isn't the world a special place' or 'gee humanity is beautiful' sort of way - I think I had those moments in Paris and Queenstown, and then when my daughter was born - but in a more practical way.

Twelve days of sun and scooters, too many pad thai, way too many diet cokes, and not a great deal of sleep, and something in me is different. For the better.

I am not stressed about money any more. Thailand is so affordable to us, and the people there really struggle, but they are happy and calm. Since I got back I have barely flinched about spending. Trust me, this is major.

I am relaxed about work - thai people work seven days a week (my rock climbing guide did, the taxi driver did, though the resort staff had one day off, bless them). Compared to that, my work is a breeze. Effort = reward. I went through high school, then undergrad at RMIT, then work, now work full time while I study for a Masters degree. I get a good job, good pay, a full weekend to myself. In Thailand I met people who went to uni in Bangkok to get a job in a restaurant at the hotel. Now don't get me wrong, that is a great job and the staff were very happy. But they lived on site, were paid very little and had one day a week to themselves. I find that hard to take.

These things have crossed my mind a lot lately, and it's nice to reflect on this sort of experience and compare your own life to what you see in another country, particularly one so different.

I've been distracted lately dreaming about motorbikes and NYC. But before I consign my trip to the past, here is a selection of highlights:

The incredible heat - out of the airport and in to the oven. It was breathtaking, literally. I loved it. So hot.
Scooters - $8 a day for unlimited k's on these little beasts. The Road Hog gang dominated Karon Beach and tore up Ao Nang.
Pacific Club Resort - live like a king for a week for $350, accomm and pad thais in the pool included. Unbeatable.
Win, our dear friend at the resort. Such a nice man, so gentle and sincere. He loved us and we loved him.
Coffee Arthit in Ao Nang. Beautiful creamy lattes and porridge. Not exactly thai style, but real good.
KING CLIMBING!!! Legendary company, and the best fun I could imagine. Brilliant day out with new friends.
Hanging out with my brother for 12 days. We are so different and so alike. Very cool.
Patty Cake and Ozi Battler, mytravelling companions. Extremely generous, reliable and fun guys. Huge respect.
The man and woman from England, travelling separately from Heathrow to Melbourne, who nursed me between Singapore and home as I fell swiftly ill. Top folk.

And there you go. I'll end at the start, and say Thailand told me a lot about this world - people are kind, beautiful and generous wherever you go. Do we just need to go away to be reminded of it?

Wow

2010-03-11T14:42:00.004+11:00

Yesterday I fulfilled my long held dream of rock climbing in Thailand.

I booked my full day outing with the highly regarded Kings Climbing, which is in Railey Beach West. Pick up time was 830 from my hotel - we drove in a truck to a pier near Ao Nang, then boarded a longtail boat to Railey. There were people from Sweden, UK and other european countries aboard.

At sign in we were split in to groups according to previous experience - I have done a fair bit of climbing indoors, so know how to tie the ropes and use the harness and belay, but had never climbed outside. I was put with Joachim from Denmark, Allo from Switzerland and Daave from Sweden. Our guide was the chain smoking Sue, a local man who has been with Kings for 13 years.

First up we walked to Diamond Cave, which I take to be an area for introductory climbs. There was a group of 5 women climbing on the wall, and we were later joined by more people. It was a very communal vibe, lots of cheering and support. On this wall I made a short first climb and reached the top easily - it wasn't too steep or long, maybe 10 metres max. The view was amazing, so was the thrill. We then climbed two longer pitches, up to 15 or 20 metres. This tested me more, and I made both after a fairly decent struggle - more difficult hand and foot holds, steeper, some slight overhangs. AT the top of the third climb I was met by about 5 small monkeys sitting on the ledge!

We walked back for lunch and then had an hour to rest. I needed it - on the third climb I had to rest for a while as my forearms started seizing. This is normal, but it's also about technique - need to use my legs more and arms less. By this time Daave and I had become old mates, which is easy to do when your life is literally in the hands of a perfect stranger. We walked to watch some very experienced climbers taking on a wall that started with a pretty serious overhang. Amazing strength and skill.

Sue met us at 2 for the afternoon session, and told us we were moving to a new wall. In fact, it was the wall Daave and I had just visited. The afternoon would be much harder! Our first climb after lunch was the hardest for the day - a 6a ranked effort that started with me jumping to grab a stalagmite (or is it stalactite? whichever hangs down) that was about 8 feet off the ground. Jump, grab with left hand and hang, swing right hand up higher, move left hand up again, then get left foot on bottom of the rock. Then push up over an overhang and climb quickly to a small ledge for a rest. It was an intimidating site. Daave tried about 4 times but couldn't get a start. I was able to get up on my first go, and I was thrilled. From there the climb wound over bumps and up a large crack. I rested a fair bit, having spent too much energy at the start. It required so much arm strength that I was spent at the final three metres. Sweating and panting, and totally exhausted across my whole body, I tried in vain to make the final push and retreated to the beach in a drench of sweat. It was an awesome climb and I am happy to have got that far on day one.

We did two more climbs, one of 30 metres which I couldn't finish, and a shorter more technical climb to end that I did succeed at. By 515 we were knackered and walked back for some chocolate and gatorade.

This was an awesome experience, the best of my trip. I have heaps of great photos, some of which I will load online when I get home next week. I made a new friend, pushed myself to overcome many fears and achieved a lot on my first effort. It's a great sport and a huge thrill.

Leaving Ao Nang tomorrow on a speed boat for the trip back to Phuket. We have decided to go back a day earlier and also to return to the Pacific Club Resort at Karon beach, rather than find a new place. The staff are so good to us, and it is so peaceful, we couldn't resist. Two nights there and then fly back via Singapore. I'll finally start The Grapes of Wrath, which I bought for the trip but haven't opened, as I am flying alone. Should be good.

Thanks for reading - more tales from Thailand, including highlights from week one, soon.

Ao Nang

2010-03-09T17:06:00.003+11:00

We are in Ao Nang, having arrived yesterday on a ferry from Phuket City. This is a very beautiful area - limestone cliffs around the town, flat sea and long white sandy beaches. The streets are clean, lots of shopping and cafes. Staying in the Tipa Resor for 5 nights, it's quite nice but not as good as the place we stayed at Karon Beach.

Rock climbing tomorrow, living the dream. Oh, do I need to mention how hot and humid this place is? Beyond belief.

Found free internet now so more soon.

Peace out.

On leave

2010-02-26T14:33:00.002+11:00

I’m taking a holiday. It’s impulsive, which is a good thing for me. I’m flying to Phuket on Wednesday 3 March for 11 nights.

My brother booked a ticket last year to the UK but at the last minute couldn’t go, so he had to select a new flight to keep the credit. He picked Phuket in March 2010. He runs his own business, and told his apprentice that he would be taking leave in March, so his apprentice asked if he could go too. They are good mates. Then the apprentice invited his brother. And at the last minute – about 3 weeks ago – I invited myself.

So two pairs of brothers are off on a tropical holiday in Thailand! I haven’t been away with my brother for years, and have never been away without my wife and daughter. It will be hard…

We are staying at Karon beach for 5 nights, which will be all about sitting in the sun, sitting in the pool and reading. We’ll visit Patong beach, Phuket city and play golf. Then I hope to convince the guys to get a ferry or speed boat across the bay to Krabi. The guys don’t know it yet, but I’m taking them there so I can live out a dream. But I think they too will like what I'm planning ...

When I was 21, a friend and I booked flights to Kuala Lumpur with the plan of staying a few nights, then getting the bus across to Thailand. To Krabi. We wanted to go rock climbing on the limestone cliffs that characterise that region: I’d been doing indoor rock climbing each week at Nunawading, and wanted an adventure and to do some outdoor climbing for the first time.

But it didn’t happen – soon after booking this trip, I decided to spend my savings on renting an apartment in Hawthorn. So it goes.

Ten years later, almost exactly, I’ll get the chance to climb at Rai Ley beach with my brother and new friends. I hope we take a ride in a long boat, do some diving and deep sea fishing, and maybe a trip in to the jungle. And eat heaps of great food. It will be amazing to finally visit this place.

Check back soon for my next blog, coming to you from Thailand.

Breakfast out

2010-02-24T09:12:00.001+11:00

My daughter turned 2 last Friday, and to celebrate I did what all Dad’s surely do with their kids at this age: I took her out for breakfast.

Before our Little Girl was born, her Mum and Dad had a routine: on Saturday morning’s we went to the café for raison toast and coffee, to read the paper and have a chat about the week. We did this in Wangaratta and kept it going when we moved to Ballarat.

Little Girl was born on a Tuesday, and after a good stay in hospital we were set to take her home on the next Saturday morning. My wife was worn out and had cabin fever from being inside a hospital for nearly a week, so we went to the café on the way home – with a brand new baby. She slept the whole time, others adored her and we enjoyed having her out with us.

The routine continued from there: we took her out each weekend and started to try out new places that were suitable for littlies. Now it’s something I do with her, and my wife takes some time out. We have settled on a place in Sturt Street, it’s her favourite and mine.

She is now a fully fledged café regular, and knows what she wants when we get there – she asks for a coffeeeeee and a discuit, please. But not last week – this was special, her second birthday, so she was able to have hancakes and coffeeeee. I had bircher muesli, and coffee too.

We had great fun, just the two of us sharing breakfast early on a Friday. Good times.

A penny for your thoughts

2010-02-18T15:13:00.002+11:00

Five months from now it will be zero at dawn and dusk. The moon will cast a stronger shadow than the sun, the ancient trees of Sturt Street will twinkle with lights and ice. Howling gales will blow from the south, chilling to the bones the people that shuffle from car to café, gathering over hot coffee and soup with friends. Woollen jackets, scarfs and gloves will pile next to papers, children swaddled and swathed. This town comes alive in winter.

Today I want to share an idea. Ballarat is full of heritage buildings – private homes and grand public spaces, laneways, crypts and chambers. These places serve as a critical cultural reference – a pointer to our past as we move to a vastly different future. We revere these places, as we should. But do we use these places?

I want these places to come alive.

Mid-winter, 8 pm Sunday night. You receive your text message inviting you to this month’s special location. You park the car and walk in the bracing air with your friend or partner, and move between buildings and down laneways. There are no signs, only a bare outline in your mind of where you need to be.

You hear laughing and whispering, an almost childlike excitement. A warm glow floods the laneway or landing, and you enter: one Ballarat’s secret treasures, hidden in plain sight, a building you have never entered, never been welcomed to. You hang your coat and get your bowl of soup, and then take your seat.

Tonight you will watch a classic film, presented by a student from the university or a visiting academic or one of your fellow viewers expert in this genre. They will frame the film for you, engage you in a short critical awareness, and then you will relax in the dark: warm, fed, contented, and two floors underground in Ballarat. Drinks are served; hot chocolate and gluhwein, and the film ends with discussions and sharing of thoughts.

Next month we move to a new film in a new location and we explore new friendships and new spaces. We bring alive some of our most adored buildings in a new way. We use spaces designed to be enjoyed, at an hour when they sit idle.

It’s a small idea, and I know someone who wants to make this happen in Ballarat. Would you support it?

My big idea:

Annual Thinker-in-Residence at the Mechanic’s Institute.

A renowned public thinker stays in Ballarat for two weeks a year, meets leaders and the community, runs a series of workshops, makes two key speeches on the thoughts and ideas shaping contemporary thinking in the world. The Courier runs regular articles charting the Thinker’s activities, promoting and provoking. At the end of the two weeks, the Thinker presents a keynote speech at a reception, and outlines the three final and best ‘new ideas’ – new ideas for our town to debate. The Committee for Ballarat takes on the role of driving the ideas. The community embraces innovation. Council is influenced, people are engaged, thing’s change. A new Thinker returns the year after and builds on the previous Thinker’s work.

What are your ideas, big and small? And what are you doing about them?

A childhood rooted in sport

2010-02-11T14:04:00.000+11:00

Inspired by a fellow blogger that I follow (that’s a mouthful), I’ve decided to write about sport. And sports teams.

I’ve always been in to sport. As a kid and young man I played competitive cricket, football, indoor soccer, basketball, tennis, did athletics and karate. I also played outdoor soccer for school. I swam laps for fun, once. For a while I went back to football and cricket as an adult, then joined the gym, left the gym, started cycling, started running, stopped cycling and started mountain biking. And right now, you’ll find me running 7.5 km every second morning around Ballarat East with a good friend, and on Saturday mornings we run at the lake. I like being fit, I like getting fitter and setting myself small challenges, and I like the routine. And the company.

Given my wide tastes in participative sport, it’s no surprise that I am also partial to watching it on television. But my watching habits are a bit different: I love watching soccer, far more than I enjoy playing it. Tennis I find boring to watch but love to play. And I’m getting into American football a fair bit, having finally worked it out (a bit) after reading the rules on Wikipedia! I have never played that.

Today’s daily news carries a few items about the upcoming pre-season series for the AFL. My team is playing Hawthorn, regular season premiers from two years ago. My team won its last flag in 1980, and played in a pre-season final in about 1990 or 1991 (and lost). It won its last ‘proper’ flag when I was one. Hmm.

I barrack for my team because my Mum does. Half the family followed mum, half followed Dad. Dad’s team is pretty good and successful; my team is pretty average and not successful. But each year I tune in again, full of hope. Why? What keeps us loyal and interested in our teams for so long?

I think it’s a reminder of childhood, simply enough. A really strong link that won’t ever break. Days when I went to the footy with Dad and my brother in my team jumper and scarf, on the train, standing room only, smoke in the air and pie wrappers at my feet. The crowd heaving and me stretching to see what happened, Dad explaining that so and so kicked another goal (probably to finish my team off). Train rides home, drunk men singing the club song, both embracing and scaring kids with their antics. Dad’s weird bag – for the footy only – that he got from some travel agent when he was 20. Sitting on my parent’s bed watching the replay while everyone else watched Hey Hey It’s Saturday in the lounge room. These are days when I would cry if my team lost a close one.

So when Richmond hit the field now, and they struggle, or they win, either way my mind makes a really clear link straight back to childhood. And because of that link, whatever happens now I can’t change teams. I can’t stop caring, even if I want to. I will always go and see them, and one day I won’t know any of the players. But it won’t matter. They are my team.

After some close consideration, I decided recently that it was ok to pick a soccer team to follow. I watch the English Premier League most often, and researched a few teams but settled on Tottenham Hotspurs. I like Peter Crouch. I add that to my followership of the Tennessee Titans in the USA. Again, wanted to cheer on someone, and they have a nice uniform. It makes such a difference when I read the papers now, to skim down to results and see if ‘we’ won or lost. 

I also keep a close watch on the Golden State Warriors in the NBA. They are really bad. Why, you ask? I got a Chris Mullens singlet when I was young – it was a nice colour and I could afford it – and I never got the team out of my mind. It’s in my childhood, so it’s me.

Burgers, P7's and spin

2010-01-13T17:50:00.020+11:00

My boss was kind enough to grant me the day off work today - heck, he is away himself, but said I could take a day off to visit my wife and daughter who are holidaying with most everyone from Ballarat down by the beach - the Great Ocean Road, no less.

So into my new car I get, or as Roots Manuva, wise-head (pot head) UK rapper calls it, Brand New Second Hand. It's a Peugeot - basically a small-medium wagon, with the benefit of stylish French design and without the fuel costs of comparable mid-size wagons. That's my story anyway. I got it from a used car dealer in Ballarat, who no doubt got it for 50% of the price I paid at auction in Melbourne. And the auction house got it from a lady in Lorne.

And where did I drive it today, 5 days after I got it? Lorne.

You can tell it's been owned by someone in Lorne immediately - it gleams in the sun, looks like it's been under a white sheet in a dust free, polished concrete-floor garage (think Cameron Fry's dad's garage in Ferris Bueller), and best of all, it has brand new $400 Pirelli P7's. That's $400 per tyre.

Today was the second time I got to drive it at length, after a quick trip to Melbourne last friday night when I collected it. And boy it's nice to drive.

Lorne's one of those places you simply have to visit every now and then, to remind yourself of how the other half live, to observe the interactions of tanned 16 year old girls in rowing jerseys from Ballarat's top schools, and 18 year old guys in skinny jeans who build their social capital while serving fish and chips in waterfront shops. And to see what wealthy farmers and city folk do when they have $800k for a holiday pad, "but let us avoid Sorrento or Dinner Plain this year and head west and see how we can spend our money down there".

So now I sound like one of those jealous middle class types, driving a Peugeot myself and recycling grey water and planting natives in the front yard, then day tripping to Lorne so I can live the dream briefly but roll my eyes at everyone else doing it. So maybe I am. But maybe it's not that simple.

To me, Lorne seems like the kind of place you might have wanted to be in 5 or 10 years ago, before it was full of people who holiday there and need to be seen with other people who go there to be seen with them. It's a furious episode of air kisses and long lunches, year round tans, people dressing up by dressing down, designer prams and op-shops staffed by elderly women in gingham and First perfume. It's captivating and hypnotic, but you're never sure if you like it or think it's weird: a bit like Heston's Feasts.

Today I had a beautiful lunch - a burger at The Bottle of Milk. Ballarat desperately needs a shop like this - the new wave burger movement probably kicked off in Melbourne about 5-6 years ago with Grill'd, then moved to edgy places like this one. They are outstanding burgers - great variety, meat and vego, home made relishes, local artisan bread rolls (oops, now I sound like a Lorne local) and plenty of salad. Good value too. They wrap them really tightly in this thick paper and you carry it off in a sturdy brown paper bag, like a little Leave it to Beaver lunch order or something.

I recommend this place highly. I also recommend the coffee at Kaos Cafe. Allpress beans, creamy lattes, fair price given the location.

And now I get to the point of my commentary. Without the fantastic burgers and consistent good coffee, and much else like it, Lorne couldn't sustain the wealthy local clientele or get punters like me in the door each day. Yet it's the fact these cafes need to be there, to give us all the service and experience we now expect, that shifts such locations from their once-idealised beach side retreat to the Melbourne by the beach that is has become. I contribute to this by eating there when I visit. I expect that quality now. Many of us do. But for the locals, the old lady up the street who moved there in 1950 when hubby died in the war, and raised some kids with her new husband who was a fisherman, this must be quite a sight. Wye River is the same, Apollo Bay and Anglesea too.

Do we still love these places? Or do we love the childhood memories? I think its the memories that bring people back to towns like Lorne each year - recollections of simple childhoods, when the days were long and money wasn't an issue and the best a parent could do was turn a blind eye to us sneaking out to sit on the sand at dark with some boy or girl from the other side of Melbourne. But as an adult, what's our attraction? We want to give our kids this experience, and we should. And we should allow them to have these experiences and be kids, not spectators in our adult world.

(My childhood memories of beaches don't include Lorne - they include fish and chips in a baking hot car in a car park at Seaford. We didn't have much money then, so this was living. I appreciate those moments now more than ever, simple as they were, but on the flipside, those experiences of the beach as a youngster are why I don't much fancy it as an adult. And so it goes.)

My other topics today are much more brief and probably a whole lot more serious: bushfires and political spin.

On the way back in to Ballarat this afternoon I drove through the area near Mt Clear where there was a rather large fire (sadly started by a 12 yo) on new years eve, which I fortunately missed while I was away in the northeast. It was in a pine plantation, which remarkably is bang in the middle of the suburbs. When I saw this a few things struck me: 1) fires are a mighty impressive phenomena, totally devastating the land. That's obvious, then it hits you when you see it. It's a moonscape now. 2) I live very close to a whole lot of bush, and a fire could easily take out many homes and lives on my door step. 3) There is a pine plantation bang in the middle of town.

Does anyone else find this interesting? Maybe it's a city thing, being a city boy and all, but I just love that not only is there is fully operational gold mine (though in some financial trouble) right under us, there is also a major plantation just out of sight of most people. It no doubt employs many locals, directly and indirectly. I love that - so many things happening right in front of us, which we never really see or care to know about.

Spin. Premier Brumby was on the radio talking about some nonsense, and every time he speaks he reminds me how tricky he is with language. He speaks at great length without saying a thing. I am sure he is revered for this in some circles, but when we have dire fire conditions and stretched resources, alcohol violence each week, attacks on foreign students (don't start me on Simon Overland's comments that Indians are safer here than in India. Wow, that's inflammatory), and Melbourne's woeful public transport system, sometimes we need straight talk and lots of it. Or better still, action.

Other than spend federal money on infrastructure projects, particularly roads to move more traffic around and pipes to shift water around, what does this government do? Or more philosophically, do we need state government at all?

Big idea 1: time to do away with three tiers of government. No more state or local government, but instead regional and federal governments only.

With respect to K Vonnegut, thanks for reading.

In the beginning ...

2010-01-12T11:33:00.006+11:00

For my first ever post I want to share some thinking - nothing too deep, but something that swirls around my head a fair bit.

I've been wondering - what is the real Ballarat? In my short few years here it's been clear that the town, it's people, it's habits, have and continue to change considerably. It's a modernising town, or at least it's a town with a vibrant and growing 'street' scene - cafes, art, gardens and beautifully designed modern spaces - but scratch the surface and the reminders emerge that it's a town built on a rich heritage of blue collar labour, adversity, agriculture, and perhaps to some extent, poverty.

So while we see this modernising face, at least commercially, and a seemingly progressive city council, does this really reflect the true Ballarat? Is it a cultural change? Are we now a liberal community, and do we need to be? Are we tolerant, open minded, business oriented, free thinking? Is this the template for a safe and harmonious place to live? Is an educated, wealthy and city-centric sub-class emerging, attracted to Ballarat's beautiful wide streets, quiet lifestyle, excellent schools and affordable housing, and projecting it's middle and upper class expectations, wants and needs on a town that is quite happy to remain small, quiet and unassuming?

Where does the current transformation end? Is it real? Are people happy?

More questions than answers, I know. I'll work through them in future posts, and look forward to your comments and thoughts.