One last time from Oz

Goodbye Sydney, goodbye Australia!

SYDNEY -- This is my last night in Australia and my mind's in turmoil. I've half a mind to "miss" my flight tomorrow, use my rail pass (still good for five months) and head off to Perth or Alice Springs.

On the other hand, I miss Claire and Ian terribly. Maybe if I sent them plane tickets ...

Oh well, I guess I've got get back to work. Damn me for not retiring when I got to 35!

Save for yesterday's side trip to Canberra, I've been exploring Sydney the last couple days in an effort to expand my experiances beyond just the Opera House and Harbour Bridge (although I've spent time there each of the past few days as well). For example, Wednesday night I attended a show of "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert: The Musical."

My one word review: "Faaa-bul-oussss!"

A scene from "Priscilla, the Musical." Apologies for the quality (or lack there of).

Manly-man I may be, I appreciate a little musical theater now and then and "Priscilla" did not disappoint. This wasn't some cheap, thrown-together production designed to remind tourists of one of the few Aussie films they remember. This was instead a well-acted, well-sung and well-danced polished, professional extravaganza, which expanded and updated the movie with new material (including good-natured Kylie Minogue and Bindi Irwin jokes)

Todd McKenney stole the show as Tick, finding a fine line between showing the character’s general acceptance of who he his now combined with worries about his past and what his son would think of him. Tony Sheldon also did well as Bernadette, but no one could take the role from Terence Stamp — whose fame from telling Superman to “Kneel before Zod” made his role in the “Priscilla” movie feel even more poignant.

But the highlight of the show for me was Bill Hunter, reprising his role from the film version. Hunter for a while seemed like he was in every Australian movie. Besides his Priscilla role, he was the father in "Muriel's Wedding," Barry Fife in "Strictly Ballroom" and the voice of the dentist in "Finding Nemo." He also has a role in Baz Luhrman’s upcoming “Australia.”

After my Canberra trip Thursday, I had a late (very late thanks to the air delay) at a restaurant at Circular Quay (which the locals pronounce “Circular Key”) with a nice view of the harbor and Harbour Bridge.

Friday, continuing with my manly theme I took a ferry to Manly Beach, a famous surfers’ beach on the north Pacific shore. While the water itself was closed due to “dangerous surf conditions” (it was indeed rolling), that didn’t stop me and numerous others from wading shin deep in the warm surf. A brief sunbathe (with lots of sunscreen) and a kangaroo burger later, I was back on the ferry to Sydney. Manly Beach.

I recommend a ferry ride to any Sydney visitors, with the Manly ferry being just $6.40 AUD (other ferries are cheaper) it’s the best way to get amazing views.

In the evening time, I took the bus to Sydney’s Kings Cross area, which probably has more restaurants per square meter along Oxford Street than anywhere on the planet. I eventually settled at an Italian place off Darlinghurst named “Fellini’s on Victoria.” My fettuccine gamberetti with a side of garlic bread was great!

Well, it’s now Saturday morning and my time in Sydney is sadly running down. I have some light packing left, have to score the Internet to finish some economics homework and actually have to drag my sorry butt to the airport. This has been a wonderful trip, both what I anticipated and needed, but it’s time to go.

Next, a 14-hour flight to Los Angeles, followed by an hour’s flight to San Luis Obispo, a short layover and then a short flight to San Francisco, then BART home.

Thanks to Australia for a great time and thanks to my readers for following, John.
Ah, Australia. I'll miss you.

A quickie in Canberra

Parliament House in Canberra.

CANBERRA — As I start this blog, from the gallery of the Australian House of Representatives (Parliament is not is session at the moment), I’m stricken by a number of things. My previously attested dislike of the Westminster System, for example.

But mostly, I’m stricken by the Australian parliament house’s lack of flair. Compared to the Capitol in Washington, or even Parliament Hill in Ottawa, Canberra in general and Parliament House in particular, seems a simplistic contrast to its fellow capitals. Aside from a few pictures of old PMs (I couldn’t find Harold Holt’s — it seems to have disappeared) and notable MPs, there are only a few static displays in the building commemorating Australia’s history. Granted, the Parliament House was only occupied within the past 20 years, so it’s not very surprising. (One thing that is surprising is that former Midnight Oil lead singer Peter Garrett, right, is Australia's culture minister! My high school friend Eric Russell could do a decent Peter Garrett impression.)

Washington and Ottawa (the other national capitals I’ve been to) owe a lot of their grandeur to past ages. The American Capitol brings back visions of Greco-Roman style, the Canadian Parliament reminds visitors of old London-town. Canberra — and the Parliament House in particular — seems to have started out new, with architecture that doesn’t remind one of anywhere else and perhaps suffers for it. (Right, the Australian House chamber.)

There is a place of genuine emotion in Canberra, the Australian War Memorial. I’ve previously noted the predominance of small war memorials in several towns, but the national memorial here in Canberra is a huge step above them. Not only is it an effective memorial, with the requisite marble, poppies and names of the honored dead, but it contains a great museum as well.

Australia lost a higher proportion of its fighting men to World War I than any other nation, even France. It’s a common finding down here that the Australian identity was forged on the shores of Gallipoli and in the trenches of France, and the Australian War Memorial reflects the impact that the “Great War” had on the nation’s psyche.

Besides the requisite uniforms, letters, planes and guns common in all such museums, this museum added an effective extra: the diorama. Huge models of the Somme, Paschendale, Gallipoli and other major battles give a sense of the scale and drama that governed the conflict and adequately reflect the difficulties the “Diggers” faced. (Australia's "Tomb of the Unknown," left.)

I had hoped to do more than the two sites in Canberra, but I had to get back to the airport for my 5 p.m. flight. So I rushed to catch my bus to the airport (or rather near the airport, as Canberra’s Action Bus stops in a business park about a five-minute walk away). I got to the Virgin Blue counter and tried to check in, but couldn’t — my flight was canceled due to flow-control restrictions in Sydney.

Virgin booked my on the next flight, two hours later, so just a little problem there. I would’ve bused back to the city on my day-tripper pass, but the last public bus back to the airport area is at 4:35 p.m. for some reason! Oh well, Richard Branson’s crew gave me a $6 voucher to use in the airport café (not quite enough to buy a meal of course, but it was $6 more than any other airline would’ve given me) and at least there’s free wireless Internet here (hence my post …).

Now, I just need to wait and hope for good weather on Australia's east coast …

Update: 6:47 p.m. (Canberra time). My flight has just been pushed back another 15 minutes and Canberra airport is not a place to get stuck. One café with actual food (outside security) and not much to do at all. It's a good thing I don't have anything planned for tonight -- I had originally considered trying a get seats to a show tonight.
Looking back toward Parliament through the pillars of the Australian War Memorial.

Sitting in the lounge car

The Blue Mountains as seen from the Indian Pacific.
NEAR KATOOMBA, NSW (Saturday, Nov. 1, 2008) – The Indian Pacific is, as I write this at 5:32 p.m. Sydney time (11:32 p.m. Friday in San Francisco), wiggling its way through the scenic Blue Mountains, having just passed the hamlet of Katoomba.

Luckily most of the little towns along the route have small train stations with their names, making it easy for me to chart our progress on a map. We’re actually making decent time on a far less-than capacity train – one more benefit of travelling in the off-season.

The scenery so far has been rolling hills covered with gum trees broken up by sheer rock cliffs. We’re at nearly 1,000 meters above sea level right now, so a lot of the views have been blocked by a heavy fog.

With both the seat next to me and the ones in front of me, I’m optimistic that I can get some sleep tonight, despite the cramped conditions. The train will likely take on more passengers in both Broken Hill and (especially) Adelaide, so I’ll enjoy it while I can.

Let me be one more of a million voices decrying the degradation of the American trans-continental railroad system. I’ve heard some horror stories from people who’ve travelled across the United States on rails, although the trip from Los Angeles (or Glendale) to San Diego is the previous longest railway trip I’ve ever taken.

(We just got passed by a Prius on the frontage road – obviously we’re going uphill.)

We just passed the town of Blackheath, which looks like a pleasant country town: a busy main street, social hall, fire station, cemetery and small train station with the built-up area ending just a couple blocks off the main drag. I get the feeling that a lot of these towns are filled with summer homes and retirees. Just out of Blackheath, there was a great view of a farming valley underneath a giant rock cliff. Of course I was too slow on the camera.

I’m sitting in the lounge car because it’s the only place on the whole train (outside of private cabins) with power. I’m not keen to pay for overpriced train food, so I bought a sandwich at a Subway in downtown Sydney to eat tonight (I’ll ease out of the lounge when the dinner rush begins). The décor and the sandwich itself was much the same as one would find in the States, save for the “u” in “favourite.”

But most interesting was that this particular Subway – and I don’t yet have enough of a sample to determine if this is Australia-wide or just this particular franchise) does not serve chips (or crisps). With your sandwich, you can get either sliced fruit or “yoghurt.” Healthy to the max.

Overnight, we’ll head to the old Outback mining town of Broken Hill, where I’ll try to post this from. (But the chances of finding working wi-fi at 7 a.m. on a Sunday morning in rural Australia are remote, so I may not get this up until I’m in Adelaide).

Greetings from the Bya Aera (sic)

I'm usually a staunch defender of the (non-tabloid) media, and not one to point out simple typos, but I found this one on the Sydney Morning Herald's website tonight a bit funny. You'd think "the oldest continuously-published newspaper in Australia" (per Wikipedia) would know how to spell the name of the city in its masthead.


I made an interesting typo on a headline a few years back when filling in for the vacationing editor of the Redwood City Tribune/Independent. We ran a three-column subhead in two different newspapers about the expansion of the "Dumbarton Bride." Of course, I meant traffic across the southern end of San Francisco Bay would be better, not that Mrs. Dumbarton was getting fat.