I sit on my balcony, while my fingers tap out the words of this blog; my laptop poised precariously as I recline on my comfy bench seat. The sun above hangs in a perfectly cloudless blue sky, a distinct contrast to the grey sky of a few hours ago..
The ocean beyond the highway in front of me mirrors the blue of the sky above. Whales, on their migration north, mark their presence as they breach close to the horizon.
It is winter in my part of the world, the East Coast of Australia, but winter here feels more like autumn.
The dramas of yesterday are gone; vanished as quickly as the flash of inspiration recently lost on a busy day. My mind is focused on my writing; there is no room for worries, at least for a while. Even the noise from the busy highway between my balcony and the ocean can’t take away from the absolute bliss of being under the warm winter sun.
My body absorbs the Vitamin D; my mood is elevated; my soul is calm.
My body and mind heal naturally on this perfect winter’s day.
The bumper-sticker ‘Keepin’ it Weird Austin, Texas‘, has a special place in my home. Not that I’ve been there, but my son has. And I love that there is a whole city that is weird – and proud!
And if Alexis is anything to go by, then I’m all for a whole city of weird.
Let me tell you about Alexis.
A friend and I stopped for a coffee at The Churchill while holidaying in Wellington, New Zealand, a couple of years ago. The coffee was good and the conversation with the young girl who took our order was even better.
Being the chatty person I am, I asked where her accent was from. I’m never sure whether it’s a Canadian or American accent, and I’ve learned from experience to never, ever guess. Some Canadians get a bit upset if you get it wrong. It’s a bit like asking an Australian what part of New Zealand they’re from.
Keeping it weird
Alexis was from Austin, Texas.
My American friend was quick to remind Alexis of the – keeping it weird in Austin – slogan.
But as far as weird goes, there was nothing weird about Alexis. She was an extraordinary young person on a working holiday in New Zealand; and in the course of the conversation Alexis told us her next journey would be to Australia. Naturally, I gave her my contact details and asked her to stay in touch. And she did.
Instead of writing about your holiday – you Video it. Add a bit of background music and dialogue and you’ve got yourself a Vlog. It’s a great way of sharing places you’ve been.
Alexis made it to Australia and I caught up with her in Byron Bay. And there was just enough time to show her around my area before she set off on another adventure.
If Hugh Jackman says Australians are coffee snobs and had the cappuccino before America – then that’s it – we did! After all, who wouldn’t believe Hugh? He’s one of my favourite Australian actors!
Australians are coffee snobs. An influx of Italian immigrants after World War II ensured that – we probably had the word ‘cappuccino’ about 20 years before America. Cafe culture is really big for Aussies. We like to work hard, but we take our leisure time seriously.
I have to admit, I have never thought of Australians as coffee snobs. I thought America had that game all sown up. But apparently not.
My journey with the cappuccino didn’t start in earnest until I was in my fifties – well – let’s just say I was well and truly an adult. Sure, I drank coffee before then – but only if you call that tinned instant stuff, coffee.
The transformative journey towards coffee-snobbery started for me when I lived within walking distance of Surfers Paradise on the Gold Coast of Australia.
Weekends were for relaxing. And Saturdays always started with a coffee at a local coffee-shop (Cafe).
Shopping, chores, and preparation for next week’s school didn’t start until after the ritual of slowly sipping a long, hot cappuccino. Time stood still until the coffee-ritual was done.
Weekdays – it was back to the instant powder from the tin. Oh, how I longed for Saturday mornings!
Big Changes Were Imminent
It all happened so fast I’m not even sure where to start telling the story. But the short version is, we packed up and moved to North America for two years. I remember sitting on the beach one morning while preparations were in progress, wondering if I was doing the right thing.
That little bit of self-doubt lasted about a minute. From then on, it was full-steam ahead with planning and packing. There wasn’t much time for any more thoughts of should I or shouldn’t I.
As we left on the big jet-plane from Sydney, I thought I would actually burst with excitement. Not so for Bill. Bill was Canadian/American. For him, it meant going home. Going back to a past-life. Memories tugged at his feelings of excitement – but he handled it well.
Destination Vancouver
A hotel was our home for the first few weeks. And coffee became the start of every day.
Tim Hortons was a short walk away. And this Aussie learned the language of Canadian coffee in a big hurry. I walked up to the counter the first day and ordered a cappuccino for me, and a flat white for Bill.
Hmm, it seems there was something wrong with ordering the flat-white. When Bill heard the commotion, he came to the rescue. I was still in shock that they didn’t understand the order so I can’t tell you what Bill said to resolve the crisis, but it worked.
Apparently a flat-white is a coffee order unique to the Land Down Under or it’s neighbour across the ditch (New Zealand). But I don’t think that’s enough to make us coffee snobs.
From then on, it was Bill’s job to order the coffee while I sat and waited.
A few weeks later we moved into an apartment on Robson Street and a whole new world opened up for me.
Bill’s American roots resurfaced.
I discovered there was a Starbucks on almost every corner! In fact, there were two diagonally opposite each other (does that mean Kitty Corner?).
The sign at the very first Starbucks – in Seattle…Yep – I lined up and bought a coffee at the original Starbucks…
Every day started with a coffee at our nearest Starbucks – right across the street on Robson and Jervis.
I had landed in coffee Heaven.
I know, there are some who would say coffee and Starbucks are not synonymous. But I’m not one of them. I happen to love Starbucks (but that’s another blog for another time).
Once you’ve ventured onto the path of white chocolate mochas with no whipped-cream, there’s no going back.
And Bill progressed to Soy Latte’s.
The fantastic Barista’s at our Starbucks even taught me how to order my favourite cup-of-joe. I took up the challenge of being the one to bravely order the coffee now that it was a lot easier. A ‘Grande no-whip white chocolate Mocha’ for me, and a ‘tall soy latte’ for Bill.
When we left Vancouver and moved over the border to San Francisco, our nearest Starbucks was a couple of blocks away – but it wasn’t too far to walk each morning. The day had to start right, right?
A year later we moved back to my homeland and back to the Gold Coast, and for me, back to teaching. The first year is still a bit of a blur.
Bill spent most of that year in hospital. And my weekend coffees consisted of whatever I could get before rushing off to visit him, or the dreaded hospital-canteen coffee. Sometimes you just have to make do.
All too soon I was on my own.
Weekend coffees resumed at my nearest Starbucks, a block away from where I lived. The first year was the hardest. Ordering just one coffee – and staring at the empty chair opposite – but I survived.
On weekdays I would look at that jar of instant coffee and say – Yeah? – Nah! I just couldn’t do it. I’d call into a drive-thru on my way to work. The coffee wasn’t good, but it was a whole lot better than the granules from within that jar.
When I ran out of Starbucks by moving to a town in Central Queensland (CQ), something had to give. The nearest coffee-shop (cafe) that even remotely resembled a Starbucks was a two-hour drive away. And then two-hours back. It was a long way but I often did it, just to sit in that cafe and soak up the atmosphere.
But the weekdays were the problem. So I invested in a coffee-machine. Not the Pod variety. I mean, a real one! I bought a Rocket Giotto, and a coffee grinder.
Every time I went back to the coast I would go to my old Starbucks and buy lots of beans to take back to CQ. Then I would make my coffee each morning – put it in a travel mug – and enjoy the taste of real coffee as I drove to school.
What makes us coffee snobs?
There is a local cafe near where I live now that makes the best cappuccinos, using beans that are roasted a few hours from here. Since the very first cup, I was converted.
Luckily I can order the beans online or buy them from the cafe, so there is always a supply on hand (well – at least in the freezer).
The only trouble is, I will now only drink cappuccinos made from Dancing Bean beans. If I meet friends at any other cafe, I just can’t bring myself to order a coffee.
I know what tastes best – and there is no substitute.
Oh, that is, unless I happen to be near a Starbucks. There’s still something about the atmosphere in a Starbucks that I just can’t resist.
I just wish there was a Starbucks close to where I live now. I’d make it a weekend thing – but I’d do it. Perhaps it is because I still can’t sit at a Starbucks without thinking of Bill…and the fond memories of our Vancouver and San Francisco coffee routines.
And his major role in my journey to becoming a coffee-snob.
The big word that has dominated media coverage in Australia for way too long is the D-Word – D-R-O-U-G-H-T! The soil in most parts of the country has been dry as a bone. There are toddlers who don’t even know what rain is in some parts of the land. There just hasn’t been any since they were born. But in twenty-four short hours, we’ve gone from drought to flood.
Here in Murwillumbah, we are usually luckier than most – our overall rainfall is generally healthier than in other parts of Australia. But not this season. Even before summer officially started, rain was nowhere to be seen.
And with drought comes water-restrictions. A few weeks ago our local Council brought down the verdict:
Level Two Water Restrictions for the Tweed Shire!
I don’t have too big an issue with that because I try to limit the amount of water I use every day. I’ve lived in the bush and relied on tank-water (with very little rain to fill it) often enough to appreciate how precious every drop of water is.
But no so for my neighbours. They are gardeners. And Level Two restrictions means they have to ration the water out to their ever-thirsty plants.
I should explain that my place is where plants come to die. Not intentionally. It just happens. Apart from one Zanzibar Gem that even I can’t kill, an Aloe Vera plant that thrives on neglect, and one small succulent that has managed to remain in the upright position – I don’t do the gardening thing. I tend to either drown plants or they die of thirst. So I prefer to leave living garden things in other people’s capable hands.
My plant-loving neighbours can now only hose their gardens on odd or even days (depending on their house-number), and then only late in the afternoon. But if they want to carry a bucket-load of water to each garden, they can water whenever they like.
Drought to Flood!
A few days ago it was hot and dry in Murwillumbah, as it had been for a very long time.
But last night the rain came in earnest. Heavy drops that you could actually hear falling. And accompanied, sporadically, with thunder and lightning.
This morning, it’s a very different scene.
The soil the rain is falling on is so hard, from prolonged lack of moisture, that the rainwater can’t get through it. The water is just pooling on the surface. And naturally, that water has to go somewhere, so it is spreading out across roadways.
At least one road in the area could easily change its name from Ducat Street to Ducat Creek.
And a local cafe has closed for the day due to water backing up. There just isn’t anywhere for the excess water to go.
Floating Debris and Flooded Roads
The fires that have ravaged so much of our land since October have left very little in their path. Ash and unstable trees, the ones lucky enough to have escaped complete destruction, are all that is left. The water from the long overdue rain, unable to soak into the ground, has enough force to topple some of the trees that have not already been taken down by fire. Those trees, along with ash and other debris, is now at risk of being pushed onto roadways.
Sadly, while one of our Fire and Rescue teams was out saving motorists who were trapped in their vehicles on a flooded street, their Station was inundated with water. According to their Facebook page, the morning has been taken up with rescues in the area, and then sandbagging their station. All they hope for is a bit of downtime so they can eat, drink coffee, and brush their teeth. I guess the early morning call outs don’t leave much time for life’s basic necessities. I hope they get that downtime today.
Despite the sudden onset of the flood, which is why it is called flash flooding, we still welcome the water falling from the sky. Not only will it help relieve some of the drought-related problems, but hopefully it will extinguish the fires that are still burning.
The flooding is temporary. And if motorists take adequate precautions, there shouldn’t be too many problems.
The first time I drove past a sign to Tumbulgum, I reckon I did what any non-local would do – I mispronounced it. Yep – I got it totally wrong, because it isn’t how it seems.
There are a lot of places down here in Australia with names you can’t pronounce. The first time I saw the name ‘Indooroopilly’, I almost packed my bags and moved back to New South Wales, from whence I’d just come.
How was I going to live in a State where I couldn’t even say the name of neighbouring towns, let alone spell them? I mean, really?
But like everything, once you get the hang of it, it’s easy.
So you see, there’s absolutely no rhyme or reason to sorting out our language. All you need to know is: if it can be shortened – it will be shortened.
And that goes for people’s names as well. Oh, unless you have red hair – then you’ll be called Blue.
Wait, is that even politically correct anymore? Probably not – but it was certainly the case when I was young.
Let’s get back to those place names.
As it turns out, Indooroopilly hasn’t been shortened – as far as I know – but it is shortened in the way you say it. Instead of sounding out all the oo’s, you kind of just leave them out altogether. So Indooroopilly ends up sounding like ‘Indrupilly’ (using the short vowel -u- sound like hum).
And now, let’s get back to Tumbulgum. Nope – it isn’t like Tum-bul-gum. It’s more like Tm-bul-gm – you kind of run the t and m, and the g and m, together. And the second u is an u sound – as in t-u-c-k, except the way the locals say it, it’s more like Tm-bol-gm.
Actually, it doesn’t matter how you pronounce Tumbulgum, as long as you go there. It is a spectacularly beautiful little place.
My house is just a short drive from Tumbulgum, so I guess you can see why I love living in Murwillumbah.
If you are up for a real challenge with place names – visit our neighbour, New Zealand, especially the town of Whakatane – pronounced: /fɑːkɑːˈtɑːnə/. – if you say it fast it sounds like… never mind.
The F-K of doors and windows is a journey through some of the places I’ve visited here in Australia, and across the world. Some of the photos might need to be viewed with a little more imagination than others – but – most fall neatly into their assigned category.
F Well, this kind of qualifies in the F category. A stroll down Flinders Lane Melbourne opens up a whole new world of ornate doors and windows. How beautiful are these? The curves, the panels – it all adds up to a beautiful piece of architecture and craftsmanship – or – should that be ‘craftspersonship’?
On to the G’s…
G The Treasury Casino is on George Street Brisbane. The windows and doors are stunning and provide the perfect backdrop for the colours that magically transform the Brisbane night sky. It doesn’t matter what angle you view this building from – its beauty is exceptional, especially at night. The former life of the building was a Government Office, dating back to 1886.
George Street Brisbane: Treasury Casino
Oh gee – Microsoft Windows!
Granville Street Vancouver
H is for….
H Hamilton, Brisbane. The Kookaburra Queen entertains diners as it steams its way along the Brisbane River. The light coming from the windows on the old Paddle Steamer is reflected beautifully on the water at night. If you find yourself in Brisbane, you can dance the night away on a dinner-cruise onboard the Kookaburra Queen.
The Kookaburra Queen at Hamilton, Brisbane
I – well – it has to be India
I India! What comes to mind when we think of India? The Taj Mahal, of course. The magnificence of the buildings has to be seen to be appreciated. The windows and doors that make up the total experience of the Taj Mahal are spectacular! Just to stand in the shadow of this romantic building is amazing.
The Taj Mahal – India
And then, onto …
J
Jiangsu – well – Nanjing to be precise, but it comes under the broader heading of Jiangsu. I’ve been to a lot of places, but obviously not many starting with the letter J. I love the way the new buildings can be seen through the archway of the old. Not exactly a door or a window, but I love the colours on the old structure. The colours in this elaborate entrance would welcome even the most weary traveller.
Jiangsu, Nanjing – China
On Jefferson Street you can stand and peer in this window and watch the experts mould the sourdough into delicious sourdough bread at the Boudin Bakery. There’s nothing better on a cold day in San Francisco, than going to the Boudin Bakery for soup in a sourdough bread bowl. Just thinking about it brings back so many memories…
Boudin Bakery, Jefferson Street (San Francisco)
The journey ends at K
K Kangaroo Point in Brisbane – home of the beautiful St Mary’s Anglican Church. The windows, as expected in a building like this, are spectacular. I sat in the church recently (at a wedding) and was mesmerised by the colours. I was grateful that the bride was a little late because it gave me time to take photos and admire the beauty of the stained glass.
Kangaroo Point Brisbane
As I meander through the twenty-plus thousand photos I have stored on my i-Devices, I wonder why I have so many photos of doors and windows? So far I’ve covered the A-E and F-K of doors and windows, so stay tuned – the journey will continue until we get to Z.
By the way, if you know any place that starts with the letter Z, please let me know in the comments section below. Otherwise, we’ll only get to Y.
