Tag Archives: Street Art

Melbourne – Modern and Historic, Handsome and Scruffy

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Monday 2 September – Having escaped satisfactorily from Kangaroo Island, we now had to escape from Adelaide via a flight to Melbourne yesterday. The process of dropping the bags off was trouble-free, but on arrival at the airport security, it looked like it might take us some time.

Appearances were deceptive; the queue moved swiftly and we got through security smoothly. It helped that small liquids and phones could stay in bags and the only things that needed putting in separate trays were laptops and aerosols. Generally, I’ve been impressed with air travel within Australia.  We’ve used Qantas-based flights so far and their online check-in and at-airport bag drop processes have been well-designed and swift.

Our next flight will be Virgin Australia; I will report back on their User Experience.

The weather for the flight was largely cloudy, so there weren’t many aerial photos to be taken.  However, as we approached Melbourne, we got our first glimpse of the city

and I noticed that some areas appeared to be very densely-packed housing; so densely-packed that at first I couldn’t make out whether the objects were parked cars or houses. This, for example, is the Mt Atkinson area west of Melbourne. The houses appear to be really crammed together.

We had arranged to stay at a friend’s airbnb apartment in the Southbank area of the city, and accordingly followed instructions to pick up the keys at a local convenience store. The code number we had been told to provide proved to be “invalid”, and so there was a great deal of to-and-fro and sitting outside cafés drinking coffee whilst we waited for some kind of resolution. There had been a delay in the cleaners dropping off the keys and so we eventually got our hands on them and headed off to the apartment… where the keys we’d been given turned out to be the wrong ones.

Bugger.

To cut a long story short, we ended up staying the night in a hotel, the rather oddly-named but perfectly comfortable Mantra hotel, where we had an apartment. With milk in the fridge and Earl Grey beside the mugs. The fridge thing gave me an idea, so I went out to get some gin and tonic, which was available in a very convenient local grocery store. And so passed our first night in Melbourne.

A word about the weather, here: we had been booked on a “moonlight kayak tour” on the Yarra River which runs through the city. However, as the exceedingly lumpy but nicely-handled landing at Melbourne showed, it was very windy, and we’d received a message apologising for cancelling the kayak tour. As it happened, given the difficulty with the keys, it was just as well.

Yesterday’s kayak tour was supposed to be our first real glimpse of Melbourne, but the weather put the kybosh on that. We had a three-hour small group walking tour of the “Lanes and Arcades” of Melbourne booked for today, so this was now our chance to get a flavour of the place.  We headed to the meeting point in Federation Square,

where it was reasonably easy to find our guide, Isabel, who was wearing a very distinctive yellow beret. Imagine our surprise, however, when the other members of the “small group” turned out to be Stephanie and Garret, an American couple who had been, alongside the Great Danes, our companions on our Kangaroo Island tour! Life is enhanced by such coincidences.

We actually passed some interesting sights en route to the start of our tour;

Striking building exterior

Melbourne Arts Centre

View across the Yarra

Federation Square is just by St. Paul’s Cathedral

and Flinders Street Station, which is an impressive building (more pictures of it later).

There had apparently been a move to replace the clocks in the picture above with something more modern and, well, operational, but the outcry ensured that the classic clocks remain there above the station entrance.

As in Adelaide, there are many handsome buildings in Melbourne, although everything is more densely-packed and the high-rises rise higher and overwhelm the smaller, older buildings more.

Above is the old GPO building, now owned by H&M. Alongside it is a very narrow alley

which even though it’s had eateries added along its length, shows the scrapes of the old horse-drawn carriages along the side and the warnings about the devil motor car.

What has been done well is to keep the facades or exteriors of some of the more notable buildings, such as the old post office building above, and also to keep as much of the interior as makes sense.

Here’s another example.

A mall off to the side of The Block, a very handsome arcade,

features some great mosaic work

and is generally very photogenic.

It features the oldest tea rooms in Melbourne, called The Tea Room 1892. I wonder how old it is, really?

The Block is also home to L’Occitane, which has a wonderful hand-painted ceiling.

Another very handsome arcade is the Royal Arcade.

Isabel also showed us into the Manchester Unity Building, which has a sumptuous interior

and surroundings

including Melbourne’s first-ever escalator, originally installed in 1932 to much excitement and lining up for a ride.

We had a very engaging chocolate tasting in The Block, at a specialist boutique called Mörk (Swedish for “Dark” – the operation has a Swedish connection in its ownership)

which, apart from very delicious hot chocolate drinks, offers some unusual variations on chocolate flavours.

Blue cheese Caramelised Yuzu, apparently

As well as the handsome buildings, many of which could do with a bit of a tidy-up,

Isabel showed us some of the street art. We saw one or two larger installations

and there are many more of these around the city; but we didn’t have and won’t have time to explore these. What we saw was much smaller-scale and very much less formal.

Caught them at it!

It’s difficult to distinguish between what’s art and what’s graffiti, which is why I say it’s informal – we even saw a couple of guys adding their last touches to something or other. One of the best-known streets for art is Hosier Lane, which is either a riot of colour or a complete mess, depending on your point of view.

I’m sorry I couldn’t do more justice to Hosier Lane, but it was hurling down with rain at this point, making photographic essay work somewhat unrewarding.

A side note: we returned here later at night, having met a friend for cocktails, and walked through an after-dark Melbourne to get back to the apartment.  As we walked down Hosier Lane, we were passed by a van with a pressure washing trailer.  We chatted to the two guys operating it, and they had been given the job of removing some of the graffiti towards the bottom of the street. The plan was to paint it over with black, and their view was that it would last maybe a couple of hours before someone started daubing again.

STOP PRESS

The black area is still there. We discovered this on the way to meeting other friends for lunch. We found some more street art en route, and so the complete set of photos of it is on Flickr.

We also saw a couple of inexplicable installations on Russell Street

and some nice brass work in the paving outside city hall.

The after-dark walk enabled a different perspective on Melbourne.  Flinders Street Station’s impressive building

is quite something else when lit up.

Federation Square

and the view over the Yarra

also look very different after sunset, as does the Arts Centre.

Sadly, we’re not likely to get more time to explore Melbourne; I feel we haven’t been able to spend long enough here to get to grips with the place at all. But it has been interesting to see what we have seen, despite some very poor weather. Tomorrow we have an all-day outing, and the day after we have a lunch date with friends, and who knows what state we’ll be in after that. I will, of course, report back, and I hope you’ll visit these pages again to find out how everything unfolded.

 

Off the ship and into Darwin

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Thursday 22 August – Yesterday was a day spent at sea making the transit from the Kimberley to Darwin. The day was therefore spent mainly doing end-of-cruise admin – repacking the suitcases, paying the bills, that kind of thing.  There was one important event to attend, though. Although we’d avoided most of the “social” activities on board the ship, the guides had organised a photo competition, which, of course, is catnip to me. There were four categories in which to submit entries – Landscape, Wildlife, Social and “Wild card” (i.e. anything at al). Unsurprisingly, I had no candidates for the social category, but  I did submit entries for the other three. And, ahem…

(and another photo was a runner up, too, in the wild card category). One lady won two of the categories with a couple of cracking photos, but sadly couldn’t be there to celebrate her success, as she had Covid and was confined to her cabin.

By about 6pm we could see Darwin in the distance, albeit not very clearly. The lack of clarity in the view was almost certainly down to what we think must be a bush fire somewhere in the area.

The smoke gave some nice atmosphere to photos as we approached,

and then we had arrived.

It would have been possible to leave the ship for a wander around, but we expected to do that after we finally disembarked, so we concentrated on having a few final free cocktails….

As is normal with these things, next morning we were flung off the ship in very short order; out of our cabins by 8am and off the boat by 9.

We were staying in the Vibe Waterfront hotel, as were several other passengers, so APT had laid on a coach to take us there from the port – a lengthy drive covering a total distance of about 500m. On the way, though, the driver gave us a couple of useful tips about places to visit and to eat.

It being not long after 9am at this point, our hotel room wasn’t ready for us, of course. So we went for a walk. Obviously.

Darwin’s not a big place, but it has some interesting things to see, which Jane, in her usual organised fashion, had scoped out for us. The hotel itself is in the Waterfront area, a redevelopment, i.e. gentrification. It has its own small but perfectly-formed beach,

which fronts a water park

in an area which seems pretty nice for a leisurely swim., protected from those nasty ocean waves

(though we discovered later that they can turn them on for you if you want).

At the end of the wharf which protects the waterfront area is a uniquely Australian exhibition.

which, although it doesn’t say it on the door, is also dedicated to something that unsurprisingly figures high in the local consciousness:

the wartime bombing of Darwin (February 1942).

We went in to take a general wander round and were immediately bossed about in a very organised way by a lady who was clearly part of The Management; she told us about a simulation of the attack which happened every 20 minutes, as air raid sirens went off, and an immersive screen showed a visualisation of what it might have looked like.

We were then ushered into a small film theatre for two “holograms”: one told the story of the genesis of the Flying Doctor Service, including how it became Royal; the other was the story of an American general on the scene of the bombing – both done really quite well, and very interesting.

The bombing of Darwin on 19 February 1942 was the largest single attack ever mounted by a foreign power on Australia. On that day, 242 Japanese aircraft, in two separate raids, attacked the town, ships in Darwin Harbour, and the town’s two airfields in an attempt to prevent the Allies from using them as bases to contest the invasion of Timor and Java during World War II. Darwin was lightly defended relative to the size of the attack, and the Japanese inflicted heavy losses upon Allied forces at little cost to themselves. No wonder it’s something that still looms large in the folk memory here – although relations with Japan nowadays are cordial.

The centre also has a real Flying Doctor aeroplane there.

There was a VR setup which gave one the chance to see the Flying Doctor service from the point of view of both patient and pilot.

The hologram film gave an excellent overview of the development of the RFDS, starting from its inspiration: the case of someone who had to travel hundreds of kilometres and wait six days for treatment after a major farming accident. This inspired the Reverend John Flynn to look for ways to solve the problem of communicating and delivering medical care across the remoteness of the Australian interior.  The combination of nascent aviation capabilities and a pedal-driven radio proved to be a successful one, allowing the service in time to grow to its current roles: nationwide, the service has over 80 aircraft and includes flying dentistry and flying mental health services alongside emergency and primary medical care.

The Flying Doctor Service was allowed to add “Royal” to its name after HM Elizabeth II visited in 1954; she talked to people over the pedal-driven radio, though I bet someone else did the pedalling.

All in all, it was a very worthwhile and interesting hour spent at the centre.

We went back to the hotel, but our room still wasn’t ready. So, after a coffee, we went for another walk. Obviously.

Downtown Darwin is on a plateau somewhat higher than the Waterfront, and is reached via a lift (well, you can use the steps if you want, but the temperature was around 30°C, so sod that for a game of soldiers).  We passed some handsome buildings, such as Government House,

the oldest colonial building in Darwin,  and the Northern Territory Library, which is a very imposing building.

Outside the library, a group of Masked Lapwings were having a barney

and we saw an Orange-Footed Scrubfowl, scrubbing about very orange-footedly.

We then headed for Austin Street, which is noted for its street art. It is indeed very varied and colourful.

By this stage, the temperature was well into the 30s, and so we headed back towards the hotel. We passed the site of the Darwin Festival, an 18-day event which is due to continue until 25 August,

and the Anglican Cathedral, which is definitely an Interesting Church

albeit a closed one; it was possible to see inside through the front door, though.

Some White Ibis (“Bin Chickens”) were squabbling outside.

Our route back to the hotel also took us near another Darwin unique, the WWII Oil Tunnels. These were tunnels built as underground oil storage tanks, in the aftermath of 1942 Japanese bombing of the above-ground ones that were already there.  The enterprise was a massive engineering undertaking, with many problems and false steps along the way; and it wasn’t a massive success.  11 tunnels were envisaged, and six were completed by the end of the war, and so weren’t needed by that stage, although tunnels 5 & 6 were used for storage of aviation fuel during a confrontation with Indonesia in the 1950s.

Tunnels 5 and 6 are now open to the public. For a fee, of course.

It looks like a tunnel, but actually this is the interior of one of the tanks

This engaging sculpture can be seen at the junction of a couple of the tunnels.

Even after all this peregrination, our hotel room was still not ready, but we sat in the blessed cool of reception for a few minutes and then were at last admitted. Actually, the room is pretty good – plenty of USB charging points, plus a kettle, Earl Grey and milk in the fridge. And face flannels in the bathroom, something that seems to be standard over here, whereas it’s disappointingly lacking in most other countries we’ve visited. Including the UK, I might add.

We had a really very good late lunch/early dinner at a bus-driver-recommended restaurant, Snapper Rocks, just along the way from the hotel and retired to our room to rest and prepare ourselves for the morrow. We are due on an all-day outing to visit Litchfield National Park, which on the face of it offers many diversions, termite mounds, waterfalls and crocodiles among them, so it would seem an interesting day awaits. Let’s see how it turns out.

 

 

 

 

No Fundy Sundy

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Sundy Sunday 2 October 2022 – Our itinerary for today featured, as its main event, a tour round the Bay of Fundy, a bay some 90km north of Halifax, on the border with New Brunswick. “Tour” in this case, meant a hike of about 17km in total, and the reason for going there was to witness the tides, which are the highest in the world – as much as 50 feet between low and high water levels. We had instructions to present ourselves at the Maritime Museum entrance, about 15 minutes’ walk away, at 0830. So we got up nice and early (‘coz we’re on bloody holiday) and shot down to the hotel lobby at 0730 to discover that breakfast on Sunday didn’t start until 0800.

Bugger.

There wasn’t much we could do about that, so we just dressed ourselves up in the expectations of a cool (10°C) windy (northerly, 20mph) day (yes, I know that’s mixed unit systems. Deal with it) and set off breakfastless to our rendezvous.

Which didn’t happen. No-one turned up to collect us.*

To be honest, we weren’t altogether surprised. Jane had tried to contact the operators of this particular tour to confirm things, and there had been no answer on their phone number over a couple of days. We gave them until 0900 and then gave up, but used the time in going back to the hotel to see a few new things on the streets of Halifax that we’d missed before: artworks;

a shack which would offer the Canadian national dish were it open, which thankfully it wasn’t;

more artworks;

some buildings of curiosity – the Pacifico Dance Club and the Press Block, the remains of which are shored up in dramatic fashion in order to act as façade for new apartments yet to be built;

and a chance to get some photos on the Grand Parade unobstructed by the celebrations of other folk – the town hall, the monument and St. Paul’s Anglican Church, the oldest building in Halifax and the oldest Anglican Church in Canada.

So we got our breakfast after all. Having partaken, we rested a while and then went out for a walk. Obviously.

Before we had our chat with Tim the concierge, he had been giving another couple some tips about places to go and things to do. Jane had earwigged this and used it formulate a Plan B – take the ferry across the harbour to Dartmouth and take a late lunch at a restaurant called the Wooden Monkey. So we walked to the Ferry Terminal via the Historic Properties

which now house various small boutique-y businesses.

I noted this highly retro offering in the ferry terminal.

The ferry is astoundingly good value for money. Two dollars will get you across the water to the Alderney Landing in Dartmouth and that price also includes what they call the “transfer” – a return journey if undertaken within two hours of the start. The only hurdle put in our way was that not only did they only accept cash, but also you had to proffer the exact amount. We managed to get some notes from an ATM (which was erroneously marked as Out of Service) and thus some change from a change machine, but this was the first time that only cash was acceptable for such a long time that I had given up taking any with us.

Anyhoo… the ferry journey gives some decent views in the 10 minutes it’s in motion: views of Halifax city

(our hotel visible between the two buildings), including the large Casino complex;

a view of the Alderney Landing, unsurprisingly;

and a view of the two major bridges across the water, the Macdonald Bridge and, through it, the Mackay Bridge.

Seeing the two bridges gave an opportunity to reflect on something I’d never come across before we visited Canada (first mention of it was in my brother Chris’s blog post on his earlier visit here) – the Halifax Explosion of 1917, the largest man-made explosion before the first atomic bomb. On the morning of 6 December 1917, the French cargo ship SS Mont-Blanc collided with the Norwegian vessel SS Imo in the area between where those two bridges now stand. The Mont-Blanc, laden with high explosives, caught fire and exploded, devastating the Richmond district of Halifax. 1,782 people were killed, largely in Halifax and Dartmouth, by the blast, debris, fires, or collapsed buildings, and an estimated 9,000 others were injured, many by flying glass. It’s amazing that I’d never heard of this incident until this year.

Dartmouth is quite a large area in Halifax, but the downtown part near the ferry terminal is quite limited. We had time before our restaurant reservation, so we walked around a bit. Obviously. There’s a waterside trail which features a couple of curiosities: the propeller of HMCS Macdonald, broken by ice when assisting another vessel in crossing the North West Passage (astonishingly the damage was only discovered later in dry dock);

the World Peace Pavilion, dating from the 1995 Global Economic Summit and containing symbols of peace from nations around the globe;

and a decent view back over to Halifax.

We had an excellent meal in the Wooden Monkey,

(above – the lift lobby going up to it from the ferry terminal)

which takes local produce and environmental issues very seriously. My theory about the restaurant name was that it was called such because it wooden monkey around with the quality of its offerings (actually, we were told that it came into being in the Chinese Year of the Monkey when wood was the element associated with that year).

Afterwards, wandering back for the return ferry journey, we came across more artworks.

It really is a pleasure to see such trouble being taken, pretty much wherever we’ve been in Canada – and Alaska – to use art in various forms to make places more attractive. I hadn’t got a mental picture of Halifax before I arrived, but such a bounty of interesting and quirky touches was not something I had expected, and they make it a nice place to be.

Whilst waiting for the ferry to go back to the city, I caught sight of this chap in a wheelchair, nonchalantly doing stationary wheelies; very impressive balance and control.

And, as we walked back to the hotel, we passed yet another mural that we hadn’t seen before.

We decided to try to find a Pedway route back to the hotel, doing which gave us this final nugget about the city.

One hopes the future will see the place developing and improving itself even further. It’s been a pleasure discovering the city. Even though we missed out on the Bay of Fundy hike, we’ve had a really nice two days here.

We leave tomorrow to go to the final new adventure before we return home – St. Johns, Newfoundland. Here’s hoping that our last couple of days on this nine-week odyssey will be a pleasant conclusion to what has been an excellent holiday. Join us, if you will, to find out….

* It turns out that there has been a miscommunication between the various agencies behind our intricate and ever-evolving itinerary. Our UK agency had thought the Canadian agency had nailed it down whereas the local operator had cancelled. It’s a shame, but it did mean we had a more relaxed day here.