divacultura: Sydney

Showing posts with label Sydney. Show all posts

Thursday, 12 February 2015

Postcards from the city

Today's city is Sydney. If I was to send postcards today, here's what I would write on them. Maybe I should just tweet, but thought I'd write my thoughts in one place today.

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Why is the toilet paper's placement in relation to the toilet only functional for members of Cirque du Soleil?

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Gee whiz, the shower caps are shrinking! Or maybe my hair is getting bigger.

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I wish I knew how those unmarked mixer taps in the shower worked. All I know, is that one direction is boiled chicken and the other is goosebumps. It's always too late when I work it out.

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Walking through the park back to the hotel today, everyone was lying around and kissing each other. Not the homeless people though. They weren't kissing each other.

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There's a messaging function on the television in my hotel room. I'm scared the TV will start messaging me. Hang on...it says "massaging". What...?

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I pull the curtains back and gaze through the filthy windows. I am on the sixth floor. Over the road, five storeys up, a small Asian man is tethered to an unseen point inside the building. He is wearing tennis shoes and carrying a window. He hunches forward as he passes a column which leaves him with mere inches of space on the awning. He clutches the window. It is taller and wider than he is. I wait for him to fall. He doesn't.

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At a busy intersection, my chances of hailing a cab should be good. After ten minutes I reassess. After fifteen minutes I start seeing things. I open the rear passenger door after I've seen the driver nod and the car stops. A startled Japanese woman squeals and recoils at the dangerous beast breaking into her cab. The light was red.

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An empty cab arrives. The driver is displeased. He complains. About traffic. About driving a taxi. About the weather. About me. About turning right. I insist. He complains when I pay him. Poor man. He no longer knows what is good.

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After walking through the park, I took these pictures of important Latin American men:

Tuesday, 16 December 2014

Justice and fairness - casualties of fear

Funny how fundamental principles of justice and fairness are threatened whenever something like yesterday's siege in Sydney happens.

The gunman was out on bail.

First thing this morning I received a request to sign a petition to tighten up bail laws.

That didn't take long, I thought.

Extraordinary situations happen. Sadly. It's quite frightening to think about what our legal rights would look like if the laws were based on the rare event.

I think about Peter Greste, the Australian journalist currently in an Egyptian prison. He was denied bail. We signed petitions for him to be released on bail.

It seems that the presumption of innocence is the first thing that is easily thrown out when something terrible happens.

Maybe I'm a bleeding heart, but the presumption of innocence is precious to me.

Then again, we have dozens of innocent people locked up in offshore prisons, their only transgression, the temerity to seek asylum and protection. I suppose in this context, what was done yesterday by a dangerous man known to police is very hard to accept.

The world is so out of balance.

It's interesting how all actions devalue or enhance. That balance is so delicate and now there's no balance at all.

As I despair, I remember the story behind "#illridewithyou" and a little bit of hope is restored.

Thursday, 12 September 2013

Checking in - what are they typing?

I've often wondered what hotel, airline and rental car check-in staff are typing when I'm checking in. While I rarely deal with airline check in staff these days (I've usually checked in online), this week I've checked in to two different hotels in two different cities and rented a car.

On arrival at the hotel in Sydney the other night, I was very tired. The drive had taken longer than usual because of road works and Sydney drivers. It was 8:35pm and I also needed some food. I didn't get to my room until 9pm. Why? Because the guy was TYPING. What? Surely he wasn't updating his facebook status. Perhaps he was tweeting or writing a chapter in his novel. While he was typing, he was grimacing. Was he struggling with syntax? Parsing a sentence or two? Quickly jotting down the next line of dialogue in his award winning screenplay?

I asked him if there was a problem. He said there wasn't. He continued to type. After further typing and grimacing, he left the desk and loped over to a man sitting at a desk opposite where we were standing. That guy started typing too. After what seemed an interminable amount of time, my artist in residence, loped back and did some more typing.

I changed tack and asked if everything was okay. He said it was. I started to shuffle impatiently as he added a line or two to his sonnet. Then he handed me my keys and announced that I had been upgraded to a suite. I was relieved that I hadn't had my cranky pants on. Twenty-five minutes it had taken!

Fire plume over the Stadium, taken from the 12th floor balcony
of my hotel in Olympic Park.
Picture copyright divacultura 2013

The suite had everything except a butler and a friend to share it with. The spa was heaven sent after the physio had prescribed soaking in a bath for my knee. There was room to sleep, room to work, room to cook (well heat stuff in the microwave), room to relax and room to swim laps in the enormous spa. There was a balcony to step out onto and view the fires in western Sydney.

As I stepped out onto the balcony, a sticker on the door caught my eye. It warned me that "for my own safety" the door would close and lock behind me. I gripped the door and didn't step too far out. I imagined what would happen if I was trapped on the balcony with no mobile phone. It would be hours before I was found. It would be the cleaners in the morning.

That would give typing man something to write home about. It would be a story for his blog that's for sure.

The morning after the fires, from the same spot.
Picture copyright divacultura 2013

Friday, 9 August 2013

My favourite things... this week

I was away in Sydney this week having a very busy time. The days were long and time available to think and write was limited. Prioritising sleep was critical. So, sorry there were no posts this week. It's a freezing, wet and windy Friday in Melbourne so coming back from lovely weather interstate was a bit of shock.

Here are my favourite things this week.

1. Time spent walking up and down the long driveway of the place I was visiting - to retrieve a forgotten item from the car, to meet a visitor, to make an appointment with a colleague - was to be relished. I spotted this marvellous tree.

When I looked out the other way, this is the view I saw:

On the third trip up the driveway, I stopped and took in my surroundings. I could forgive the long days and the lack of space to do my own work. It was like a mini relaxation session.

2. As I was reading a notice advertising changes to train services over the weekend I noticed someone had failed to proofread:

Footscary?
© divacultura 2013

Last time I checked, Melbourne did not have a suburb called "Footscary". There is one just down the road, along the train line, called "Footscray". Footscray gets a bad rap. Any wonder when the people running Melbourne's trains can't even get your name right. When I tweeted this photo, many responders advised that the misprinted name was more apt. #changefootscray2footscary

3. Sitting in my assigned seat aboard a Qantas flight yesterday afternoon, I was reading my book. The flight was full and it seemed most people had 27 pieces of hand luggage. (Why don't they enforce the limits?) Suddenly I was hit directly on the top of my head. A man was moving bags in the overhead locker and a very heavy one landed on me. I cried out and then burst into tears, both from pain and shock. It really, really hurt. The man said nothing. Didn't apologise. Didn't check to see that I was okay.

A fellow passenger who witnessed the incident asked if I was okay and asked me if I was bleeding (I wasn't). He advised me to tell cabin crew and told me he would be a witness if required.

Qantas cabin crew were amazing. They brought me pain relief immediately and checked that I was okay to fly. Throughout the flight most members of the crew checked on me to make sure I was okay. I was most worried about my neck and I had a hell of a headache.

You might be wondering why this is a "favourite moment"? Firstly the care I received from cabin crew was wonderful. Secondly, so far, I seem to be okay. I'm monitoring myself for any evidence of an impact injury. I've also changed my seating preference from aisle to window. (It's the second time a passenger's activities in the overhead lockers have resulted in something landing on my head!)

4. It's great to be home! (Even if it is cold and miserable!)

What were your favourite moments this week?

Thursday, 25 April 2013

Today - in pictures

I spent a wonderful ANZAC Day in Sydney. Caught up with my dear friend John. We realised we've known each other for twenty years! Here's the day in pictures.