We live in a city of colour, vibrancy, where even a mundane laneway is transformed by colour, yet kept earthbound by an eponymous shopping trolley in the foreground.
There is no stink of piss, no needle fodder, no rubbish, no graffiti. Just a clean laneway and a Tuesday afternoon, well-kept and quiet.
It goes against the grain of inner-city laneway code of Melbourne.
Bourke Street. Tuesday,7.30 p.m. Twilight colours. Emerging lights. A sneaky Maccas. A last laneway meal before winter drives us indoors. Leaves cling to the branches. The ding of an approaching tram. Delivery bikes scarper across the road like cockroaches.
The car is parked easily. The mail is collected. A quick trip.
I live in a city. I have a post office box. This is the price of identity security.
I need to take a 'break' from the blog.
Why? I want to spend some time writing fiction and this will be my compromise. Not blogging.
Okay, maybe not so much not blogging, but not writing on the blog so much. I'll still do the Sunday Questions and film and theatre reviews, and the odd bit of commentary, but for the next month or so I'll post a song of the day and a photo, just to keep the streak, and that will be that.
I might put a word count for the novel down the bottom, for accountabilities sake.
I mean, I've posted daily since the first of January 2020. It's a big ask. I want to keep the streak going.
So, I'm just changing mediums for a bit so I can get some more of this novel written.
Sound like a plan?
And this will be better than bleating on about how much I hate people who don't know how to do hook turns. I nearly got cleaned up going down Collins Street tonight. And I've only just had the car fixed.
Anyway, here's today's shot:
As much as I love planning holidays, I also dislike it - mainly because I have to make decisions.
I'm normally good at decisions.
This time, I've got too many things to think about.
So here we go.
I leave Australia on the 13th of September, arriving in London on the 14th, in the afternoon. I'll find a hotel for the first night and see if friends can put me up until the 18th, when I get the Eurostar over to Paris. I've got a day on my own, then the Gunnas International Writer's Retreat starts on the 19th.
Ten days in Paris and Provence (okay, Occitane - but don't tell anybody that).
Arrive back in Paris on the 28th of September.
AND THEN WHAT?
I'm not flying all the way to Europe to only stay two weeks. I'm not sure I'll have a job when I get back, but still, you don't go to Europe and spend less than a month there.
I've pretty much decided that I need another night or two in Paris. I want to go to Versailles and Chartres - these are done from here. But then what.
Do I go back to England and head North for a few days? Go to York, or even Edinburgh or somewhere.
Or do I go back to England and go South, maybe having a trip for a few days around Cornwall, where the family come from. I've been to Cornwall a few times, but sitting on a beach watching your boyfriend pretend to surf isn't really the trip I'd want.
Do I stay in France. Lyon. Marseilles. Champagne. Brittany. Carcassonne. Monpellier.... endless places to go.
Do I head over to Rome and visit Lizzy?
Do I head to Barcelona and visit Cleo?
Do I have a chat to Reindert and see if we can coordinate again - maybe go to the Netherlands for a few days, visiting Belgium on the way because I've never been to Belgium and Bruges sort of fascinates me.
Here's a novelty. Doing the Sunday Stealing questions on a Sunday. I was supposed to be donating blood this afternoon, but a slight sore throat has put pay to that (you never turn up to the blood bank feeling even remotely dodgy. This is a good chance to catch up on some daily tasks instead of doing the round trip into town.
Questions, as always, have been provided by Sunday Stealing.
1. What book are you currently reading?
That should read what books am I currently reading.
On paper, I'm about a third the way through Katerina Gibson's The Temperature. The writing is great but I'm not convinced about the plot.
I'm also a third the way through Paul Murray's The Bee Sting. It's a thick book and I had to put it to one side for a bit so I could read my book group books.
On audiobook, I'm two thirds the way through Emilia Hart's Weyward. I'm loving that. It's light and fun and about witches. The perfect foil for the other two books.
2. Have you ever smoked?
Yes. I used to be a social smoker but gave up around 15 years ago. Filthy habit.
3. Do you own a gun?
Hell, no.
For the Americans out there, just for a comparison, Australia has guns, but very strict gun control laws. We had one fellow shoot up a tourist location in the late 90s. 35 people lost their lives. The week after all automatic and semi-automatic weapons were banned and other measure were put in place to secure gun ownership. There was a major amnesty. All guns had to be handed in or licensed under strict conditions.
Even if you live on a farm, you need licenses and gun safes (I grew up in the country - we had a rifle). And a whiff of a criminal record or psychiatric illness and you're banned from having them. Owning a gun in the metropolitan area means keeping your guns in a lock up at a gun club. Police and members of the military may have a gun safe at home, but most are kept at the stations. Yes, sure, some nutters get through the cracks, but I'm really glad we have these laws.
We can also walk the streets not fearing being shot and our children don't go through active shooter drills from kindergarten.
Another small different between the State and Australia - from a doctor friend of mine - the doctors in our emergency rooms will be very unlucky to see a gunshot wound from year to year. There's a bit more of a chance of seeing them in big city hospitals, but most will be unlucky if they see one more than once a month.
4. What is your favorite candy?
Choose one of these:
Hot dogs, yay,. but with some caveats.
Australia, once again, does things different from America.
We have a barbequed sausage thing going here. Sausage, grilled onions, some tomato sauce (ketchup) in fresh white bread (I think you call it wonderbread). Magic. Best purchased outside your local Bunnings (Think Home Depot / B&Q) on any given weekend to support whatever charity is doing the cooking that weekend.
Hot dogs come in two forms. The ones you get at IKEA.
One of the following:
Coffee. My standard day opener is a decaf latte with almond milk. Yes I drink decaf. It's got a lot better. I like the taste, but I can't do the caffeine.
8. What do you drink throughout the day?
Water and decaf coffee or tea. Sometimes I'll have a can of sugar free soft drink - I like things like kombucha.
9. Do you do pushups?
Don't mention the war. Short answer, yes. I can pump out as many push-ups from my knees as you want. Chuck has other ideas and has me lowering down to the floor from my feet, then pushing up from the floor from my knees. Did I mention that Chuck was a sadist? I am getting stronger. But still.
10. What’s your favorite piece of jewelry?
I've got three Pandora bracelets that I love. I've also got a leather bracelet with a couple of Pandora charms on it which I wear a couple of days a week.
11. Current worry?
I just look at the news coming out of America and my heart sinks. I'm also very grateful that I live in Australia.
Oh, here is my current dilemma. Before all of this awful stuff in America became so in your face that it's scary, I bought a ticket to London. It's a long trip. I'm supposed to go to Sydney, then fly to Los Angeles, not leave the airport, then fly to London a few hours later. The reason I booked this flight - 55000 frequent flyer points and $250. Most other routes were 130,000 frequent flyer points. Which I have, but like that the spend was less. yes, I'm cheap.
My dilemma is do I cancel the ticket and find another route to London. I'm not leaving the airport. I have to get an ETSA visa (thankfully I don't have any record or any reason for them to look at me funny, but you never know). There's no way I would visit America until the current regime is well gone. But as a transit stop? I'm also a well-spoken, polite, Caucasian, middle-aged woman - basically invisible - with an immediate onward ticket. But still. You hear stories. I'd love to hear some opinions on this. Oh, this is happening in September.
12. Current annoyance?
We're about to go into a Federal election. I can't watch terrestrial television as the political ads, particularly from Clive Palmer and his cronies (the Trumpet of the Patriots - give me bloody strength) as well as the claptrap from the Liberal National Party (Americans, think GOP).
This is why I need chicken wire.
13. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets?
No.
Give me high thread count pure cotton instead please.
14. No question provided. It's not you. It's not me.
15. Can you whistle?
Yes. My grandfather taught me when I was four-years-old, much to my mother's chagrin.
Movie Number 15 of 2025
The Movie: A Little Something Extra (French Title: Un P'tit Truc En Plus)
The Cinema: The Palace, Elsternwick
Runtime: One hour 39 minutes
In French, English Subtitles
Stars: 4
This was an unexpected delight. Jonella and I were overdue for a catch up, so we met halfway between our houses and Jonella picked the film. She did good. This has also done very well in France, being one of the most loved films of last year.
Also, I'm always up for a French film, and this one has the added extra of being fun, funny, charming and just a very lovely way to spend the better part of two hours.
The premise is simple. A father and son (Artus and Clovis Cornillac) hold up a jewellery store. As they try to escape the police the end up joining a group of adults with disabilities, going to a summer camp, where the two pose as a resident and his carer.
It sounds a bit far-fetched.
Making this movie a complete treat is the fact that the actors are mostly intellectually disabled and get to play themselves. This is where the magic happens.
With the group are Alice (Alice Belaidi) and Celine (Celine Groussard) who ensure the group stay safe. The group, who live in assisted living together, have been going to the same country house in a very picturesque part of France for a number of years.
Over the week of the vacation, lots happens. "Orpi" the father, is trying to sort out what to do with the loot. Paulo/Sylvian, playing an intellectually disabled person, is found out by the group, who keep his secret. And you see how the men are redeemed as they gel with the group.
And sure, there's some running jokes, some which fall a bit flat. I loved that the real Sylvian, who was supposed to be on the trip ended up on a party bus bound for the south of Spain. He had a whale of a time. There's also a lot of in jokes. I loved the running theme of the Dalida lover. (If you know, you know).
By the end of the film, you've fallen in love with this loveable, kind-hearting, funny group and you'd love to spend more time with them.
One thing I will say - the film has improved my ability to swear in French. The film, written and directed by Artus, who also plays the son, also known as the fake Sylvian, has done a lovely job on this.
As a film that looks at disability, no as a weakness, but a strength, or as it says in the credits, for all the people who have something a little bit extra, this is definitely worth a look.
The Company: Melbourne Theatre Company
The Space: The Southbank Theatre
Stars: 4
Runtime: an hour and 45 minutes
Until 17 April.
The Removalists was originally produced in 1971. 54 years ago. When it originally came out, I would’ve been three-years-old. This was David Williamson‘s fourth play, before he became the darling of the Australian in theatre scene. I remember this being on the Year 12 curriculum along with Don's Party and The Club in the mid-eighties.
It’s interesting that the Melbourne Theatre Company has chosen to put on, being one of Williamson‘s most famous plays, especially in a time where Women have far more equality and the behaviour of police has some improved over the years. It’s because of this that the play does feel a little bit dated. What might’ve felt normal 50 years ago certainly doesn’t ring true now, which makes us even more uncomfortable to watch.
The play hasn't changed. Set in the early 70s, we find ourselves in a two-man satellite police station where Sergeant Simmons (Steve Mouzakis) is lording it over his rookie Ross (William McKenna) who's having what I would call the first day from hell. The thing about this police station is nothing really happens there. Anything big gets sent to the big station at Box Hill. Anything too minor gets swept under the carpet.
Things change when Kate (Jessica Clarke) and Fiona (Eloise Mignon) turn up, requesting a police report after the latter's husband has bashed her. Kate, the more confident of the two sisters is adamant that Fiona report her husband's deeds as she's trying to leave him and evidence the evidence is required. Fiona wants anything for a quiet exit and for the situation to be resolved.
And here's where things get really uncomfortable for the modern consumer. Things, thankfully, have moved on in fifty years (even if some say they haven't). The way the women were treated - okay, condescended to. The taking of evidence. The lack of empathy. The incompetent cop coming up with a plan to extricate the hapless Fiona from the flat into her new place while her husband is out.
As much as is reeks of incompetence, I'm pretty sure things like this used to go on.
The second act finds us in Fiona's flat, freshly bashed and waiting for Simmons, Ross and the Removalist (Martin Blum) to turn up. Then her husband Kenny (Michael Whalley) unexpectedly turns up, refusing to go down the pub for a counter tea as is his normal routine.
And all hell breaks loose.
This isn't the best of Williamson's plays, but it is one of his most important, looking at everything from police competence and brutality, the fragility of those experiencing domestic violence, to the treatment of women, it's all in there.
I did enjoy the play. Jay didn't. And that's okay.
Firstly, all of the cast were great. This was really well acted. Steve Mouzakis was particularly good as Simmons, the lazy, bent older cop.
Anne Marie Sarks direction was also very good. She kept her cast on a very tight leash and this restraint paid off in droves.
My biggest issue with the whole thing was the set.
Instead of keeping this in the traditional proscenium arch arrangement, stage at the front, they did something different, putting a small group of the audience on the other side of the stage and having the stage in a rhomboid shape. We were seated in the traditional seats to the left. Having an odd-shaped stage was discombobulating. I'm not sure how I would have felt being on the other side of the stage close up to the action, which at times, was violent.
This aside, Dale Ferguson and his team capture the drab banality of seventies decor perfectly. The office space, in particular, was masterfully rendered.
For me, despite a couple of misgivings, this was a win. At an hour and 45 minutes with no interval, I was kept entertained and aware for the duration of the place. What's more troubling is that concerns from fifty years ago are still front of mind today.
This is work a look. It's an Australian classic done well.
