Sydney traffic remains horrendous. Bring on matter transference.
Although it was Sunday, it still took over an hour to drive from Bungan to the eastern suburbs. Alicia had received an invitation to a party being held at Tamarama, and being good parents, and in a holiday mood, we agreed to her request. Unfortunately Sydney's 5 million also decided it would be a good day to take out their 4WD' s. Result: bumper-to-bumper along Military Road all the way to the Harbour Bridge.
The party was being held at Laura's house, a typical tumble-down student dig, located at the eastern end of Birrell Street. Broken cane furniture and a home-wrought depiction of Bowie's Alladin Sane cover greeted our entrance. Alicia had promised us a fantastic view as long as we did not venture too far i.e meet other party-goers. It was worth it ~ glistening Tamarama beach was visible through a canopy of frangipani and fig trees giving us the impression we were standing in a tree house looking out to sea.
Bondi was but a headland away and bustling. Tourists wearing aussie clobber mingled with sun-bronzed surfie chicks toting triple-thruster short boards. The Gelato Bar was dispensing matso ball soup to an appreciative clientel as we made our way along Campbell Parade towards Dave's 30's apartment block Sunray. Dave's CRV was home but he wasn't ~ probably down at Thai Terrific tucking into an early prawn laksa. Mustn't grumble. A drink seems in order and the location of a convenient parking spot soon saw us sitting in the front bar of the Beach Road Hotel. No chance of getting a seat, let alone a drink in the packed back beer garden. The big screen sported a sign announcing the men's final was starting at 7.30 and the pub was staying open until 12.30.
Brushing off a persistent bar-fly, we made our way back to the car for the trip back to Bungan. By-passing Bondi Junction, we drove passed Gelignite Jack Murray's garage and Royal Sydney Golf Course towards Rose Bay and the tollways home.
http://www.abc.net.au/news/photos/2010/02/01/2806156.htm
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
Snug at Bungan
The theme from Endless Summer is blasting from the iPod and John McG is starting his second novel. How does he do it?. Maybe he reads while barbequing and washing up. I must make any effort to finish at least one book before returning ~ a cover to cover reading of the SMH doesn't count.
I promise to remove my sunglasses once the Peninsula sunshine stops reflecting off the hard surfaces ~ all that chrome and white!. It's enough to make you weep.
The surf is calling my name and I believe a post-Weet Bix plunge is called for. Now, if the theory is correct I shouldn't drown: I have waited the compulsory 30 minutes since eating and the surf looks inviting. Besides, the local surf club has six young clubbies on hand to ensure my safety and none resemble Tony Abbott. I strip down to the budgie smugglers and race into the foaming water. Magic!.
We have settled into 5B Karloo Crescent to celebrate Marge's 90th and the pantry is groaning from Benham clan contributions. I suppose we can take home anything that is not consumed. Still, there does seem to be a lot of comestibles for a week. Kim and Wendy's tic-tacking has worked and there is minimal duplication ~ you can't have too much ash-crusted goat's cheese in my opinion.
I promise to remove my sunglasses once the Peninsula sunshine stops reflecting off the hard surfaces ~ all that chrome and white!. It's enough to make you weep.
The surf is calling my name and I believe a post-Weet Bix plunge is called for. Now, if the theory is correct I shouldn't drown: I have waited the compulsory 30 minutes since eating and the surf looks inviting. Besides, the local surf club has six young clubbies on hand to ensure my safety and none resemble Tony Abbott. I strip down to the budgie smugglers and race into the foaming water. Magic!.
We have settled into 5B Karloo Crescent to celebrate Marge's 90th and the pantry is groaning from Benham clan contributions. I suppose we can take home anything that is not consumed. Still, there does seem to be a lot of comestibles for a week. Kim and Wendy's tic-tacking has worked and there is minimal duplication ~ you can't have too much ash-crusted goat's cheese in my opinion.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Australia Day 2010
We've breakfasted, barbied and toasted and it's not even 12.30. Must be January 26th. Unfortunately the original plans for today have fallen over and we won't be celebrating Vickie and David's 25th Anniversary at Honeysuckle Creek. Moonwalking is, however, still an option.
Hope every one has a great one and that your Hot 100 selection greets the judge.
Cheers
J&K
Hope every one has a great one and that your Hot 100 selection greets the judge.
Cheers
J&K
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Fast Forward ~ 2010
Dateline: Sunday, 24th January 2010 ~ Duffy
The Peninsula beckons. A gathering of the Benham clan will be spending late January/early February at Bungan near Newport. Accompanied by sundry daughters, the odd spouse and rampaging offspring, Marge Benham will be celebrating her 90th birthday in style at the beach.
To ensure maximum efficiency Kim's list of holiday essentials has been created and checked twice. Dukkah - check, teapot - check, .......... etc. Grandchildren will be sourced from near and afar - Castle Hill, Baulkham Hills, Fitzroy North and Plymouth (UK) to complete the caravan.
I can already smell the citronella candles. We will keep you posted.
J&K
The Peninsula beckons. A gathering of the Benham clan will be spending late January/early February at Bungan near Newport. Accompanied by sundry daughters, the odd spouse and rampaging offspring, Marge Benham will be celebrating her 90th birthday in style at the beach.
To ensure maximum efficiency Kim's list of holiday essentials has been created and checked twice. Dukkah - check, teapot - check, .......... etc. Grandchildren will be sourced from near and afar - Castle Hill, Baulkham Hills, Fitzroy North and Plymouth (UK) to complete the caravan.
I can already smell the citronella candles. We will keep you posted.
J&K
Monday, November 2, 2009
Autumnal Paris ~ Part Deux
Sunday 18th October
Le musique accordian faded away as we left Rue Mouffetard and headed in the direction of the Seine. Along past the Museum National d'Histoire Naturelle, through the Jardine des Plantes where families cavorted, and onto Pont d'Austelitz for a photo session. More picture-perfect postcard conditions. Packed cruise boats shared the water with all manner of barges.
We walked along le Quays various in the direction of Notre Dame, stopping by the iconic postcard and souvenir stalls to check out their offerings. Being Sunday, mass was being held in the Cathedral, and despite the teeming, snapping tourist hordes, a performance by an accompanied choral group made the visit special. Ever hopeful, we lit another candle for my Aunty Ollie.
Our friend from Canberra, Gaik, rang Kim to arrange an evening meeting. We eagerly accepted her invitation to visit the oldest church in Paris for a piano recital commencing at 6.00pm. To ensure our success, we found St Julien Le Pauve close to Notre Dame, and following a late panini lunch in Square Viviani, started walking back to La Mouff. A couple of warming glasses of red in Place de la Contrescarpe and back to No. 78 to change.
Fifteen minutes after leaving our apartment we arrived at the church to meet Gaik, her sister Chu and husband John, and our friend Petal from Canberra. The Steinway concert grand piano gleamed at the front of the church as pianist Jean-Christophe Millot bowed to the assembly and sat down to play. To our uneducated ears two separate programs of Beethoven and Chopin were performed magnificently in the 12th century stone church. I was particularly taken by a complicated Chopin nocturne that used the Steinway's sustain to great effect. Altogether a most unexpected but fantastic feature of our time in Paris.
Leaving St Julien in the descending dark, we set off for our dinner destination with Gaik leading. Unfortunately, Chu, Petal and John went in an altogether different direction. Sensing we were alone, Gaik phoned to seek directions and we soon were one once again outside Shakespeare and Co close to the Seine. Crossing Rue Mazarine, we entered a warm and inviting restaurant with an impressive wine list. Pate de foie gras featured prominently, however Kim and I settled for baked Atlantic salmon and a rack of lamb respectively. Both were superb. Dessert was a shared wedge of Munster cheese accompanied by a pot of fragrant honey.
Leaving the restaurant, we walked up onto a bridge over the Seine to view the lights sparkling on the nearby Eiffel Tower. We proceeded along the riverbank and left up Rue de Seine where many art galleries were located. A print by Cubist Fernand Leger occupied pride of place in a well lit window. La Poissionary, a possible 30th anniversary restaurant, was located before we wished Gaik and Co. good night, and headed off for a leisurely late night stroll home via Boulevard St Germain.
Le musique accordian faded away as we left Rue Mouffetard and headed in the direction of the Seine. Along past the Museum National d'Histoire Naturelle, through the Jardine des Plantes where families cavorted, and onto Pont d'Austelitz for a photo session. More picture-perfect postcard conditions. Packed cruise boats shared the water with all manner of barges.
We walked along le Quays various in the direction of Notre Dame, stopping by the iconic postcard and souvenir stalls to check out their offerings. Being Sunday, mass was being held in the Cathedral, and despite the teeming, snapping tourist hordes, a performance by an accompanied choral group made the visit special. Ever hopeful, we lit another candle for my Aunty Ollie.
Our friend from Canberra, Gaik, rang Kim to arrange an evening meeting. We eagerly accepted her invitation to visit the oldest church in Paris for a piano recital commencing at 6.00pm. To ensure our success, we found St Julien Le Pauve close to Notre Dame, and following a late panini lunch in Square Viviani, started walking back to La Mouff. A couple of warming glasses of red in Place de la Contrescarpe and back to No. 78 to change.
Fifteen minutes after leaving our apartment we arrived at the church to meet Gaik, her sister Chu and husband John, and our friend Petal from Canberra. The Steinway concert grand piano gleamed at the front of the church as pianist Jean-Christophe Millot bowed to the assembly and sat down to play. To our uneducated ears two separate programs of Beethoven and Chopin were performed magnificently in the 12th century stone church. I was particularly taken by a complicated Chopin nocturne that used the Steinway's sustain to great effect. Altogether a most unexpected but fantastic feature of our time in Paris.
Leaving St Julien in the descending dark, we set off for our dinner destination with Gaik leading. Unfortunately, Chu, Petal and John went in an altogether different direction. Sensing we were alone, Gaik phoned to seek directions and we soon were one once again outside Shakespeare and Co close to the Seine. Crossing Rue Mazarine, we entered a warm and inviting restaurant with an impressive wine list. Pate de foie gras featured prominently, however Kim and I settled for baked Atlantic salmon and a rack of lamb respectively. Both were superb. Dessert was a shared wedge of Munster cheese accompanied by a pot of fragrant honey.
Leaving the restaurant, we walked up onto a bridge over the Seine to view the lights sparkling on the nearby Eiffel Tower. We proceeded along the riverbank and left up Rue de Seine where many art galleries were located. A print by Cubist Fernand Leger occupied pride of place in a well lit window. La Poissionary, a possible 30th anniversary restaurant, was located before we wished Gaik and Co. good night, and headed off for a leisurely late night stroll home via Boulevard St Germain.
Paddy Ryans Pub
'
Galway/Horseleap/Dublin: Deardaoin 15th October
They serve a very good full Irish at the Park House Hotel, with probably the most savoury black pudding I have encountered since dining at Olthwaites. After a visit to 3 for a full refund of Kim's Waterford purchase, and an unsuccessful search for a replacement GPS fuse, we turn east for our trip back to Dublin.
The M4 was a great road back and sticking to it would have made our trip swift. Thankfully, however, taking the high road is not on our agenda and we had an unenviable choice to make: Moate or Horseleap. Opting for the latter, we pulled off the M4 and parked outside Paddy Ryans Pub located right on the county border between Offaly and Westmeath. Three old codgers were chewing the fat over a few pints and chasers at a table next to the coal fire. C'mon Eammon, get that down yer fookin' neck, We're going to be fookin' late for t'other fookin' pub if you don't fookin' hurry up.
Back onto the M4 and off. Unfortunately, our instructions for Hertz did not coincide with the available roadway and we spent a very frustrating 90 minutes stuck in Dublin peak hour traffic. Look!, there's the Guinness Storehouse again, better ask for directions. We pulled up in a bicycle lane and sought assistance from a bloke standing outside his furniture shop. Can you tell us where we are? we pleaded. Sure, You'd be in Dublin he grinned. We were very close - It's just up to the next set of lights and turn right ~ so close, yet so far.
Kim successfully argued a reduction in the hire price of the SatNav and we waited for our taxi to The Burlington. The usual blarney went on as we travelled around in circles and sat stuck in traffic - thank God the exchange rate is favourable. We arrived at the hotel where we were given a room at least two minutes walk from the lift. No view to speak of this time.
After a lie down and shower, we were dropped off near Duke Street where we dined on pasta at Carluccios after a bit of a wander around. The Literary Tour swarm disappeared around the corner towards Trinity College as we sat down. Not up for a big night, we started walking back past the multitude of tacsais all hoping for a fare. A few drivers were getting a bit testy and words were being exchanged over maurauding rights.
We turned right near St Stephens Green and asked assistance of a woman at the bus stop opposite the park. There's no doubt about the Irish, they love a bit of a chat, and she had found her match in Kim. Life stories were exchanged, and Moira told us of her goddaughter Lucy in Melbourne. What a coincidence. She enquired of our travel and when told of our imminent trip to Paris on Saturday replied That sounds Smashing! Two Euros 30 for our ride right back to The Burlington. I hope those taxi drivers don't hear about this. They'll be out of business and will have to start producing daughters.
Galway/Horseleap/Dublin: Deardaoin 15th October
They serve a very good full Irish at the Park House Hotel, with probably the most savoury black pudding I have encountered since dining at Olthwaites. After a visit to 3 for a full refund of Kim's Waterford purchase, and an unsuccessful search for a replacement GPS fuse, we turn east for our trip back to Dublin.
The M4 was a great road back and sticking to it would have made our trip swift. Thankfully, however, taking the high road is not on our agenda and we had an unenviable choice to make: Moate or Horseleap. Opting for the latter, we pulled off the M4 and parked outside Paddy Ryans Pub located right on the county border between Offaly and Westmeath. Three old codgers were chewing the fat over a few pints and chasers at a table next to the coal fire. C'mon Eammon, get that down yer fookin' neck, We're going to be fookin' late for t'other fookin' pub if you don't fookin' hurry up.
Back onto the M4 and off. Unfortunately, our instructions for Hertz did not coincide with the available roadway and we spent a very frustrating 90 minutes stuck in Dublin peak hour traffic. Look!, there's the Guinness Storehouse again, better ask for directions. We pulled up in a bicycle lane and sought assistance from a bloke standing outside his furniture shop. Can you tell us where we are? we pleaded. Sure, You'd be in Dublin he grinned. We were very close - It's just up to the next set of lights and turn right ~ so close, yet so far.
Kim successfully argued a reduction in the hire price of the SatNav and we waited for our taxi to The Burlington. The usual blarney went on as we travelled around in circles and sat stuck in traffic - thank God the exchange rate is favourable. We arrived at the hotel where we were given a room at least two minutes walk from the lift. No view to speak of this time.
After a lie down and shower, we were dropped off near Duke Street where we dined on pasta at Carluccios after a bit of a wander around. The Literary Tour swarm disappeared around the corner towards Trinity College as we sat down. Not up for a big night, we started walking back past the multitude of tacsais all hoping for a fare. A few drivers were getting a bit testy and words were being exchanged over maurauding rights.
We turned right near St Stephens Green and asked assistance of a woman at the bus stop opposite the park. There's no doubt about the Irish, they love a bit of a chat, and she had found her match in Kim. Life stories were exchanged, and Moira told us of her goddaughter Lucy in Melbourne. What a coincidence. She enquired of our travel and when told of our imminent trip to Paris on Saturday replied That sounds Smashing! Two Euros 30 for our ride right back to The Burlington. I hope those taxi drivers don't hear about this. They'll be out of business and will have to start producing daughters.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Went down to the Chelsea Drugstore
Dateline: London ~ Friday 9th October
Broke our fast around the corner at Maison Fait ~ croissants dipped in chocolate. Walked along Stratford Road and down along Earls Court Road. Into the tube, just past another William Hill betting establishment, and emerged at Sloan Square. Clickety-click! sounded our Cuban heels.
Outside Chelsea Town Hall a be-ribboned Chelsea pensioner stood guard against enemies of the monarchy. Support was present in the form of that actor who played Hugo's dad in The Vicar of Dibley. Resplendent in a carbon blue jacket, he chatted to a King's Road furniture store proprietor.
Window shopping takes its' toll, and turning at the kink in the Road we headed back past Michael's suggestion the Bluebird Restaurant. We sat in The Cardogan Arms in Chelsea and supped a pint of London Pride and a chardonnay ~ having had our breakfast, lunch is out of the question. We pop into a florist to seek flowers as a gift for Sue and Michael to thank them for their generosity ~ what do you give someone who has everything?. Wine was out of the question, because the 'fridge is full of Tattinger, and the 1982 Chateau Gazin Pomerol is having an outing. Orchids look nice!.
Having not post-carded for some time, I seek inspiration at Scribble. Margaret Thatcher as Che a la Warhol, and a Stones' inspired weatherman fit the bill. Arrangements had been made to meet Sara McCarthy for drinks, and soon after we three were seated in our local The Devonshire Arms on the corner of Stratford Road and Marloes Road. London's weather continues to be unseasonally perfect and we sat outside chatting at dappled tables. We walked Sara back to High Street Ken underground via EMI headquarters, with promises to catch up again before our departure.
We are joining Robyn and Marina for dinner, and around sevenish meet them at Hotel 54 close to the V&A. We extract ourselves from your genuine hackney cab in Kensington Church Street, and enter Romano's Ristorante Italiano. Impeccible service plus the best fritto misto makes for a memorable night. The zablioni wasn't half-bad either.
http://www.bluebird-restaurant.com/www.thecadoganarmschelsea.com
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