Personal Impression about Perth CBD

I posted yesterday a picture from the London Court, which breathes a strong English air, but I said that it made me feel that Aussies are 
still looking for their identity. At least from architectural and urban points of view… To continue my thought, London Court is on the side of a regular shopping
 mall and a street with office high-rises of non-descript architecture. It is the trophy that sits on a dull pedestal. The surrounding areas of Perth CBD are new with some modern touches
 on St Georges Terrace, but except for the very British London Court,
 the rest of the city has a common urban flavor, with nothing standing 
out. Quite unfortunate, we stayed in a hotel in walking distance from
 the mall, right in the middle of the CBD, but it felt as out of place 
as the London Court, because the neighborhood consisted in more office 
buildings and small chain cafes that were mostly closed due to the 
holidays. About 15 minutes away from the Hay Street hotel was the nicer area of
 Northbridge, with the cultural district and a concentration of cafes, discos
 and restaurants. Another 15 minutes in the opposite direction 
from Northbridge were some gardens, the Perth Bell Tower and the jetties
 for the boats to Fremantle. We took a scenic ride on the
 Swan River (today’s picture) and admired private villas, the Swan Brewery and an infinite number of 
small boats and windsurfers. A good 15-minute drive from the hotel
 were the Kings Park and Botanic Gardens, about which I will write
 more tomorrow. I found a common feature of the major Aussie cities, 
including Brisbane, Sydney, Melbourne and Perth, which is
 their layout around big bodies of water. I guess this is actually 
their identity, which is not necessarily architectural, but 
"locational." And although this country is so dry, most major cities 
disguise this characteristic by being built around rich bodies of
 water.

Happy New Year! La multi ani!

After a week in Perth, I am happy to celebrate a reasonably warm start of 2013 in Melbourne. A significant 15-degree higher temperature in Perth (41C) for three days in a row was a good reminder that as much as weather here in Melbourne is unpredictable, it’s still better than being stuck with one hot choice for enough time to feel as if living in a large oven. New Year’s Eve was devoid of BBQ, prawns and heavy drinking for me, so I fail the Aussie citizenship “test” again, but watching the 10-minute Sydney fire works from the comfort of our nice home while eating really good cheddar cheese and Romanian “sarmale” surrounded by family was a wonderful way to cross another time border, 2012-2013. No resolutions and no high expectations, just the wishes for a year of peace and health. The trip to Perth gave me enough material to post again more often, as in the past two months I didn’t have enough material for regular blogging. Today’s picture is that of the London Court, a pedestrian lane/shopping arcade that goes between the Hay Street Mall and St George’s Terrace. I thought of it as a good reminder that Australia is essentially a British relic still searching for identity.

Christmas Preparations Down Under

Ten days before Christmas and the action is on. This is a list of random things that I did, happened, or happened to make me think of Christmas and prepare, at least mentally, for it. I start it with the difficulty of finding a parking spot at the largest mall in the Southern Hemisphere, Chadstone Shopping Centre. And I will end it with the two little caterpillars curling like a Yin and Yang on a half-eaten leaf, which seemed to wear cozy coats like I used to wear in the harsh winter of Macin, Philadelphia or New York. So here if the rest... On Monday, I stared long enough at the bloomed paper-bark trees on my street until the fuzzy little flowers clouding up at the top seemed nothing else but a layer of fluffy, pristine snow. I wiped the sweat on my forehead as I walked into the sweltering summer heat, just as I used to do as a kid back in Romania after walking into one foot of fresh, powdery snow for about half an hour. I took a deep breath as I walked into the bakery yesterday, surrendering the Christmas flavors of savory and sweet bread, as if they just wrapped around me in the kitchen of my childhood. Finally, I played some Romanian carols sang by the Madrigal Choir and I cooked some bean soup, after which I knew I was ready for Christmas.

Hot Christmas

This is my fourth Christmas in Oz and I’m still not used to wearing sandals and a summer dress, going to the beach, and being content with no more than a salad “feast” on that Christmas Eve. Last week-end we put together the Christmas tree, huddled the fake snow together at its base, and hung the “icicles” on the top branches. All this under the air conditioning unit, since there were over 92F (33 Celsius) outside! The city is decorated with holiday lights, red and green, but they’re invisible most of the time, because the sun sets late, close to 8PM, when all shoppers have gone home with the gifts they bought and the only shops open are those selling alcohol… It’s dark after 9PM and the lonely Santas and Christmas lights brighten the path of those rushing to go home. I imagine a very sweaty Santa dressed in thick layers of fur-trimmed clothes landing by our tree to deliver melting chocolates and a pair of skates. Roller blades maybe...

Silky Oak Tree

I haven’t neglected my blog, but I simply ran out of interesting things to share about Oz. Today I found one, the silky oak tree, and thus my return to posting for you. Soon I’ll be going to Perth and that should give me lots of material for the blog. The silky-oak tree (Grevillea robusta) is the largest plant of the grevillea genus. I love its dark yellow, almost rusty orange hermaphrodite flowers that embellish the tree in late spring-summer. They look like large brushes with curly hairs, are loaded with nectar, and buzz with busy bees. The leaves are also beautiful, lacy and of a dusty green. I guess the first part of the name comes from the silky wood that is used for furniture making and in construction. Yet, why it’s called “oak” when it belongs to the grevillea genus, I don’t have the slightest idea. This tree can reach 30 meters in height, but its shocking similarity to the low grevillea plants turns it into a giant exception of the plant world. At least in my eyes, delighted to admire this unique Australian beauty.

Socially Awkward?

Ever since I moved to Melbourne I am trying to figure out if Melbournians are cold, filled with an almost royal chill, but every time I conclude that I meet someone exceptionally nice and I brush off this idea, even accusing myself of having misconceptions. The fact that I made many good friends in this city strikes me as the ultimate proof that Melbournians are actually nice. However, among them, and is not so different in other places, are some truly socially awkward individuals re-enforcing ridiculous social rules. What’s very sad is that such rules every day, and this is ran under a state government initiative. It’s extremely helpful for working parents like us and it’s not expensive. My daughter, being the only child, always loved little kids and asked for a little brother or sister. This never happened, but she plays with small kids at school and is very nice and gentle with them. They are the brothers and sisters she never had… Well, until yesterday, when the after-school teachers told my daughter and the little girl she played with for a long time, that they are not allowed to play together anymore because they have to make friends of their own age. The ridiculous rule hurt both kids and can only explain the socially awkwardness behind some of the grown-ups I have seen occasionally. Yes, I will talk with the personnel caring for the kids, but I am offended I even have to bring up the subject. The situation throws me back in time, about 100 years ago, in the Aussie or British orphanages I dread even reading about, because of the cruelty the carers imposed on small children.

Running Around, Asleep or Awake

I am in the Arkaroola Village, a very remote place in the Flinders Ranges. A $65 a night room feels like a shoebox with two beds and a shower, no soap, TV set, fridge or any other luxuries. You walk in straight from the parking lot, and the room windows are big holes that barely separate you from the street through a cellophane-thick sheet of glass. It’s a place where you have to arrive exhausted, crash into bed, sleep and then go the following morning… Spiders hang in observation, strategically, from two opposite corners of the room. They are watching me, the old furniture reflected in the dark brown linoleum, or the warning signs of a mouse plague hanging on the wall? The covers, a rodent grey shade, are lighter than the sheets, and I can almost distinguish footprints on them. I pray the sheets are clean and at no moment of the night I touch the covers. I smell disinfectant, old poison and spider feet, then I fall asleep. I dream that I am not in Arkaroola, where I just enjoyed seeing the stars like light bulbs through the heavy lens of the Arkaroola Observatory. I am back in Melbourne, watching a pink and purple sunset with boats, crystal waters and a sweet flavored breeze. I am walking alongside St. Kilda Beach thinking of how I got there and how easy I hover, asleep or awake, among all these places I’ve seen in my life.