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Showing posts with label Sydney. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sydney. Show all posts

Friday, 10 August 2012

Out of Town

'Here, long after I'd left home, is my stepfather on set, relaxed in the 'shed' he invented for the programme, a yoke of studio lights reflected in his glasses...
Jack Hargreaves ~ Out of Town 
...Growing up with Jack I spent a lot of the time we weren't out of doors, in a shed - watching him, sometimes helping him, always listening. It was a comfortable space suffused with the aroma of Gallaghers Honeydew and a bench rather than a desk next to tool racks and an accumulating plethora of useful odds and ends that would have cluttered a studio.'
I've just prepared this paragraph as a comment on a Southern Television studio photo in family files taken, I suspect, in 1980 when Jack must have been touching 70, about to leave the company, knowing it was almost certain to lose its franchise in the latest round of ITV bidding. I'm working with Ian Gilcrist at Delta who are preparing some images and texts to go with their release of 34 original Out of Town broadcasts.
These are as far as we know the only complete episodes of Jack's Out of Town programme that survive. The set that Charles Webster of Delta, who I've been working with over the last three years, plans to release later in the year. His 'box' will include an account from me of the search for this material and one from Simon Winter of Kaleidoscope of the extraordinary mix of luck and wisdom that unearthed them, with a short accompanying website, in which my stepfather's portrait will feature.
1951 ~ Gallagher's Golden Honeydew
I probably know as well as anyone how accurately Out of Town transferred my childhood to the tele’. In that posed studio photo he sits at a desk with the Falcon pipe he’d draw on through count-down - a concession to indoor smoking that even as early as 1980 had to be negotiated. He’d rest the pipe gently on the desk as he went on air, relighting it with the credits.  There was in the end surprisingly little difference between Jack’s carefully devised set and the shed next to our house; little difference between Jack Hargreaves as a natural on TV and Jack in a real shed being a dad to die for. He chatted as he worked. I was endlessly entertained, understanding, years later, why he sub-titled his book - Out of Town - ‘a life relived on television’. I'm sure that was because of, rather than despite, the artifice. Never am I so reminded of the fancy that we invent our lives, or at least our biographies.
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I don't wish recession on anyone but this is nectar:
ATHENS, Aug 8 (Reuters) - Greece's dire economic plight has forced thousands of businesses to close, thrown one in five out of work and eroded the living standards of millions. But for bicycle-maker Giorgos Vogiatzis, it's not all bad news. The crisis has put cash-strapped Greeks on their bikes - once snubbed as a sign of poverty or just plain risky - and Greek manufacturers are shifting into fast gear. The high cost of road tax, fuel and repairs is forcing Greeks to ditch their cars in huge numbers. According to the government's statistics office, the number of cars on Greek roads declined by more than 40 percent in each of the last two years. Meanwhile, more than 200,000 bikes were sold in 2011, up about a quarter from the previous year. Shops selling bicycles, and equipment ranging from helmets to knee pads, are spreading fast across the capital, popping up even between souvenir shops on the cobbled pedestrian streets of the touristy Plaka district. "They're sprouting up like mushrooms," said Vogiatzis, who designs and builds tailor-made bicycles in his workshop on the Aegean island of Rhodes....

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To my delight the chickens have arrived. Four healthy looking two year old hens. Two Suffolk Lights and two Rhode Island Reds. They were delivered to their run and coop on one side of Brin Croft at 7.45 Wednesday morning...

...kept in there for 24 hours. Friday afternoon three are out on the grass basking in  unaccustomed sun, wings outstretched, and Blanche seems to be broody in the laying box. "I doubt we'll have any eggs for a while. They need to settle in" said my mother, who sees them first on my computer...
...and names them, Blanche, Edith, Rhoda and Gladys - Edith the Suffolk with black speckles on her cape, and Rhoda, the Rhode Island with darker feathers on her back. I bought back a large bag of laying pellets and a water feeder from Harbros on Harbour Road in Inverness.The doctor and nurses have been dropping in, courtesy of the NHS to check on Mum who's not feeling so good. The arrival of hens and relatives cheering her up a little. Her grandson, my sister Bay's son, Antony, has taken a house in Tomatin for a week and is there with that side of the family. I've been ferrying Bay over the 14 miles to Inverarnie to check on our mum and confer with Sharon, her wonderful carer, and calm collected Doctor Sweeney who's mother's also in her 90s. Bay got our mother to a window to have a first gaze at her new chckens...
...and  my great niece came round with her mum keen to try feeding them...
Sydney with her grandma and the chickens
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I've been taking walks in jocund grazings playground for hundreds of small butterflies - Scotch Argus - myriad small insects, bees large and small, tiny moths fluttering between storks amid the rich greenery along the silvery Farnack...
The Farnack
...heading above this pleasant Highland bocage, on above the forestry line to scan the Strath in all its beauty - a panorama on these clear days to Ben Wyvis in Easter Ross beyond the Moray Firth winding away to Cromarty until it disappears beyond my middle ground, eastern slopes of serried pine, leading south to my point of reference - Brin Rock.



Time travel, like riding a bicycle the first time or skipping, is a mix of chance and craft. My daily biography runs to random slides amid the sounds of the moment; no track for smell. Dipping my nose into a flower, a patch of greenest sphagnum, rotting leaves, an errant pine branch, a handful of long wet grass to hold a living fish going back where it came, broken earth; I flick through a worm hole - momentarily effulgent with joy; sometimes its opposite stench, equally evocative. Possession is immeasurably brief, far outside conscious attention, an elusive sense animating the images and sounds, even the tastes, of lost times - του χαμένου χρόνου. How we mock noses, the part that resists all but teasing poetry. Yet the terriers, all dogs, share an environment of smells and taste. With their wet noses and little lolling tongues they survey and map the walks we take.

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À la recherche ... in Ano Korakiana
A swimming expedition of Korakianers to Dassia - before the they built the big road along the shore

"Η μυρωδιά της τηγανητής μελιτζάνας και πιπεριάς καθώς και η φρέσκια σάλτσα ντομάτας μου θυμίζουν έντονα τα καλοκαιρινά μας μπάνια όταν ήμασταν παιδιά! Από τα χαράματα με ξύπναγαν οι μυρωδιές που προανέφερα. Ήταν η μέρα που θα οδεύαμε προς Δασιά μεριά. Αρκετή η απόσταση όταν την κάνεις πεζή. Όσοι είχαν γαϊδουράκι ήταν τυχεροί. Εμείς δεν είχαμε! Ξεκίναγε η συντροφιά με τα φαγώσιμα κρεμασμένα στα ''σκαρβέκια ''του γαϊδάρου...
The smell of fried aubergines and peppers as well as the smell of fresh tomato sauce reminds me intensely of our summer bathing when we were children. These smells awoke us from daybreak. It was the day we were going to travel to the seashore at Dasia - a considerable distance on foot. Those who had a donkey were lucky. We didn't. Our group set off with the picnic food hanging from the wooden parts - σκαρβέκια - of the Jenny's saddle..."
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I thought this interesting - from John and Alistair cycling across Canada right now. Looking at what makes a community work -
John and Alistair in Tatamagouche
Sustainability and the Entrepreneurial Spirit: It is the most obvious thing that is missing in communities that are stagnant or in decline. In these places no one is able to refer to any one individual or a group of passionate and committed citizens who are taking action....Business entrepreneurs are the cornerstone of successful small communities. It may not take many, just a handful working on their own business. Together they recognise the efforts of others who also take this risk and they form an important cohort in the community around which others will follow to build a sense of place...
...and another cycle odyssey with a purpose - described in The Carbon Cycle. In 2006 Kate Rawles cycled 4500 miles from Texas to Alaska, following the spine of the Rocky Mountains conversing with people she met about climate change – from truck drivers to the Mayor of Albuquerque – to find out what they knew about it, whether they cared, and if they did, what they thought they could do. I've bought the book...and extract from Kate's blog. I like the fine grain, the small things, the ubiquity of unique individuals, talents I'll never encounter, the amount I miss in the wider world:
25th june '06...wonderful couple of days. great evening at neighbours' yesterday. when we arrived at john and anne's, just us and them. i was imagining a sit-down formal dinner. then another couple arrived, then a car-load, then another. cars kept arriving. soon the house was full of three generations, wandering inside and out, drinking beers, cokes and margheritas. i spoke with a geologist specialising in hazardous waste retraining as a nurse specialising in anaesthesia. (an anaesthetist with a geological time-frame, what a thought! let me put you to sleep for a hundred thousand years....).   his view on global warming was a) climates have always been in flux and this is just another flux and b) in any case talking about global warming isn't a good way to get people to act differently. it's too big and distant. focussing on the geo-political situation and the desirability of energy independance would be much more effective. i spoke with a solar astrophysicist who'd been studying the sun's output since 1970. we can't blame the sun's output for global warming anymore, he said. it's now certain that the output has been constant for the last 30 odd years. and yes, i certainly believe global warming is happening. i spoke with anne who showed me her little black and white cat panda's two kittens and told me a bear had eaten all their chickens bar one last night - and had a go at the hummingbird feeder. (bears? already? goodness!). best of all i spoke with heidi. small and slender, skin tight jeans, beautiful boots, pink and white shirt and white cowboy hat over a long pale plait, large blue eyes with a calm, grounded sort of look. heidi has a very large ranch in utah. in the summer she rides the ranch checking on cattle and fences, sleeping out for five or six nights at a time and then coming back for an occasional bath before setting out again. a real cowgirl (cowperson?!) - and a grandma! what an inspiration. (being a cowgirl is a long-standing fantasy of mine, tho its never sat entirely easily with being a vegetarian). we talked about arabs versus quarter horses (she uses quarter horses), how travelling in an rv cuts you off from so much of what you are travelling through, and how useful dogs are. "they make for lazy cowboys but take the pressure off the horses. they're about 5% useful: most of the time the cattle are chasing the dogs rather than the other way around." tom and rosalind told me later how heidi on form was an extraordinary dancer, known, amongst other things, for tap-dancing on tables and throwing truly wild parties which people would cross states to get to. and she invited me to come and visit! oh my. somehow i must find a way to make that happen.
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I've only just read Richard Pine's latest Letter from Greece in the Irish Times of 3 August 'Living with bribery and tax evasion as normal as the azure sky'...
I plead guilty. Last month I colluded in tax evasion and paid a bribe. I was buying stationery costing €105. The shopkeeper asked if I wanted a receipt. No thanks. “Then that will be €90 – cash, of course.” Of course. I saved €15 and he avoided paying VAT. Collusion. Everyone does it...Meanwhile, the coalition government in place since late June appears to be doing nothing except mouthing empty rhetoric about the need for reform and renegotiation of the bailout. There are reportedly 110 bailout conditions on which no progress has been made, thus imperilling payment of the next tranche of the loan. Government prevarication has registered with the voters: a recent opinion poll indicated that 50 per cent of voters are dissatisfied with the inaction of people who have the power – but not the motivation – to effect change. This is the same percentage that voted for the anti-austerity, anti-bailout parties on June 17th. A house divided, indeed. A visitor, looking at an aquamarine sky, asked: “Where else would you see a sky like that?” To which the answer is: Portugal, Spain, Italy – all the “bad boys” of southern Europe. It isn’t simply a matter of doing business in these countries in a quite different way to those of the north, but a cultural difference. A country in which clingfilm is called “diaphanous membrane”, and where boys are still named Aristotle, Hercules and Perikles, and girls Aphrodite, Urania (sky) and Agape (love), isn’t quite the same as one in which children are called Nigel and Ingrid, and where clingfilm is, well, clingfilm.
The other evening I asked my nephew, who's senior enough in knowledge of economics and finance, to have an opinion I value, about Greece
"You know how I feel. What of the future?"
"Greece will leave - will have to leave the Euro" he said very quietly; a little reluctantly.
"And Spain, and Italy and Portugal and...?" I asked amid a crowd of chatting relatives in my mother's sitting room. He looked at me eyebrows raised knowing I was seeking reassurance.
"Well?"
"They'll pull through"
Olympic debt race - Sophia Mamalinga 2 Aug'12

"What's the difference?" He shrugged and made a small spread of his arms. It was like pulling small teeth.
"Is it corruption?"
"Hm"
"Why Greece? Why not the others? You know how bad things are in Athens" I ran through my present list of harm and spreading misery.
"There's no capital left" He paused and looked away then back at me "Nothing there" Another pause "A dreadful mess."
He wanted to talk and think about something else. I didn't pursue, just felt a small ache in the pit of my stomach. (Telegraph 7 Aug'12: Greek exit from euro is 'manageable’ says Jean-Claude Juncker)
The family came to say 'Goodbye"

Friday, 22 June 2012

How Ano Korakiana voted last Sunday

ekloges2012c.jpg


ekloges062012a.jpg ekloges062012b.jpg 
Key: ΣΥΡΙΖΑ=Coalition of the Radical Left, ΝΔ=New Democracy, ΠΑΣΟΚ=Panhellenic Socialist Movement (now in coalition with ΝΔ to form a government), Ανεξάρτητοι Έλληνες=Independent Greeks, ΚΚΕ=Communist Party of Greece, Δημοκρατική Αριστερά=Democratic Left (now in coalition with ΝΔ), Λαϊκός Σύνδεσμος-Χρυσή Αυγή=Golden Dawn, Δημιουργία, Ξανά!=Recreate Greece, Οικολόγοι Πράσινοι=Ecologists Greens, Λαϊκός Ορθόδοξος Συναγερμός ΛΑΟΣ=Popular Orthodox Rally, Κόμμα Πειρατών Ελλάδας=Pirate Party of Greece, Κίνημα δεν πληρώνω=I am not paying Movement,  Ένωση Κεντρώων=Union Centrist, Αντικαπιταλιστική Αριστερή Συνεργασία για την Ανατροπή, ΑΝΤ.ΑΡ.ΣΥ.Α.=Front of the Greek Anto-Capitalist Left, Κοινωνία Πολιτική Παράταξη συνεχιστών του Καποδίστρια=Political Party of the Successors of Kapodistria
(Voting in Ano Korakiana for the general election on 6 May is recorded here in actual numbers as well as in the right hand column above - %s only)
The new Hellenic government is maintained by the conditional involvement with New Democracy of the Panhellenic Socialist Movement (PASOK), the Independent Greeks and the Democratic Left (DIMAR) - all avoiding a level of involvement with the dominant ND that might compromise their future with the electorate. There are only ND MPs from the coalition partners in the new government. The smaller parties have nominated unelected academics with expertise in the area of their brief. There is, as far as I can see, just one woman - Olga Kefalogianni. She holds the Tourism brief. The list that follows is from a page in the superlative Athens News. It gives links to nearly all the names of the people appointed to Samaras' new Cabinet.

Prime Minister Antonis Samaras (ND)
Administrative Reform and E-Governance Minister Antonis Manitakis (technocrat, prof of constitutional law)
Deputy Manousos Voloudakis (ND)
Defence Minister Panos Panagiotopoulos (ND)
Alternative Panagiotis Karampelas
Deputy Dimitris Elefsiniotis
Development, Competitiveness, Infrastructure, Transport and Networks Minister Kostis Hatzidakis (ND)
Alternate Stavros Kaloyiannis (ND)
Deputy Thanasis Skordas (ND)
Deputy Notis Mitarakis (ND)
Education, Religious Affairs, Culture and Sports Minister Konstantinos Arvanitopoulos (ND)
Alternate Kostas Tzavaras (ND)
Deputy Yiannis Ioannidis 
Deputy Theodoros Papatheodorou (technocrat, uni rector)
Environment, Energy & Climate Change Minister Evangelos Livieratos (technocrat, prof of geodesy and cartography)
Alternate Stavros Kalafatis (technocrat, prof)
Finance Minister Vasilis Rapanos (technocrat, banker - arrested during the Junta) resigned through ill health (25 Jun), replaced by Yannis Stournaras (26 Jun'12)
Alternate Christos Staikouras (ND)
Deputy George Mavraganis
Foreign Minister Dimitris Avramopoulos (ND)
Deputy Dimitris Kourkoulas (technocrat, European Commission official)
Health Minister Andreas Lykourentzos (ND)
Alternate Marios Salmas (ND)
Interior Minister Evripidis Stylianidis (ND)
Deputy Haralambos Athanassiou (ND)
Justice, Transparency and Human Rights Minister Antonis Roupakiotis (technocrat, lawyer)
Labour, Social Security and Welfare Minister Yiannis Vroutsis (ND)
Deputy Nikos Nikolopoulos (ND)(resigned 9/7/12)
Macedonia-Thrace Minister Theodoros Karaoglou (ND)
Public Order and Citizen Protection Minister Nikos Dendias (ND)
Rural Development and Food Minister Athanasios Tsaftaris (technocrat, prof of genetics and plant breeding)
Alternate Maximos Harakopoulos (ND)
Shipping and Island Policy Minister Kostis Moussouroulis (ND) 
Deputy George A Vernicos (technocrat, entrepreneur and social activist)(resigned 26/6/12)
Tourism Minister Olga Kefalogianni (ND)
State Minister Dimitris Stamatis (ND)
Government spokesperson Simos Kedikoglou (ND)
Parliamentary speaker Vangelis Meimarakis (ND)
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Bridge on the Farnack
In the Highlands. I’m wary about sharing Scotland – my Scotland – even with relatives. The lush landscape to the variegated detail of trees, grass, moss, gorse, broom, exquisite lichen, rocks and running water are quite in the charge of my subjectivity, with sensations of place created in my heart by the presence of my mother, without whom this landscape that I've visited every year for forty years to stay for several weeks; which I dream from other places, which lodges in my daily imaginings, has really neither joy, nor love, nor light without her. My sister feels the same. "Mum makes this place for us"
Four generations at Brin
To my slightly vexed delight Brin Croft was full – with my 18 months younger sister, Bay, her second child Susie and her daughter, Sydney, so we have a confluence of life-lines and in my monochromed snap - family detail.
(Email sent later) Dear Susie...my unposed snap of 4 generations? It could really be 5 - because the pictures on the left on the wall near your head include one of Bar (my mum’s mum) as a girl, and my grandpa Henry as a toddler, when the Victorian habit was to put very young boys in a dress. It’s only the rifle over his shoulder sends a reminder. I can see the likeness between you and Angus’ mother in the oil painting by Sir James Guthrie (above my mum’s head).  And I like it that Bay’s profile is close to the watercolour of her leaning on the sitting room wall, painted by a Swiss magazine illustrator when Bay was about 9 or 10. The newspaper headline ensures knowing the date of the picture, and when I look at it I see other small details that speak of the time and the place, like the latest re-issue of the King James Bible on top of the thin bookcase aand Sydney’s toy by your grandma’s feet.  Anything else? XX Simon
S. I love that it's not a posed photo - its a snapshot of our day- mum feeding Sydney, Sydney more interested in playing, I'm probably looking for wet wipes, and grandma watching it all happen! Probably could have taken almost exactly the same photo the day before or the day after at the same time! The joys of having young children and routines! ;)  Sent from my iPhone
As well as relatives here, comes the virtual presence of Susie's Dave, working from home in London but in regular exchange with Susie and Sydney via skype on tablet phones, while broadcasts to the house come via the conventional TV, my laptop and two iPads. The house is full of alternative versions. I am, by my own estimate, the old fellow among women. I sense territoriality in myself. I moved to a bed in the log cabin...
My bed in the log cabin
...Bay and Susie and her daughter share the bathroom and loo; we use the kitchen, Mum's carer's space. Sharon's actions there, always efficient, become slightly emphatic.
How we spread in age; mum 95 on her iPad, Sydney 2 on hers. I'm well fed, looked after, pampered, loved. This should be my mother’s domain. Always was, but her age has required occasional regency, negotiated by her relatives in consultation with Sharon, her kind and competent comptroller. The dogs observe - non-combatants. Anyone who heads out in to the country for a walk is their leader. On Wednesday my sister was throwing sticks for the terriers from Nairn beach; mid-summer and almost empty; cold sea in the broadening firth, with a little snow on Ben Wyvis, the Cromarty coast stretching away north-east into haze and, over the horizon, Duncansby Head and the north.
I'm beginning to be noticed by Sydney. She's shy and I must loom over her large and strange 'Uncle Simon'. Susie took this picture which reminded me of a sepia photograph of my mother with her Dad just after World War 1 in which he'd fought.
2012 ~ Nairn
1919 ~ Isle of Wight

Sunday, 15 November 2009

Now that's something to see ...

I'm hardly an innocent abroad but here was something to see. We - me, John and Neil Patton - a Canadian friend of John's from Vancouver with an expert's interest in the negotiation at the heart of our seminars who'd also joined us at Melbourne, flew into Sydney around 2.00 this afternoon; checked into our hotel overlooking Botany Bay, and travelled by bus and train to Martin Square, from where John led me through the magnificent Palace Gardens where I saw a memorial to Charles Darwin amid trees of unsurpassing grandeur.
'It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change' Charles Darwin
At the foot of the Domain we strolled along the harbour front until, rounding a corner, I came all of a sudden across the Sydney Opera House, a building in my imagination since its completion when I was just 30. Sunday afternoon and the world of human variety - age, nationality and ethnicity - seemed to revolve gently about us in every direction, walking, sitting, reclining and, like me, gazing - in joyful wonderment - at a panorama too wide for the camera and an acoustic landscape of waves, the rumbling and plashing of boats - large and small - and conversation in every register. We sucked choc-ices and stared up and down the harbour like eager children, then strolled on to a quayside restaurant for a late lunch, revelling, with a thousand others, in the grandeur and jollity all around. Not since I've been to Cairo or walked around the Parthenon or the Taj Mahal do I recall such pleasure at being an unabashed tourist - and in such kind company.
After eating we took a ferry to the end of the harbour passing below Sydney Harbour Bridge, seeing the Opera House across the water, the high rises of the city centre and the busy shores from Lunar Park to the Maritime Museum where we alighted to continue our stroll through a city made by people from across the world.

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Simon Baddeley