Two significant developments. First, we have bought a barbecue. Homes here seem incomplete without one in the back garden and summer's setting in so we picked up a modest little number in the hardware shop in the nearby plaza ie a vast shopping centre with a car park so big that you can wander in it for days if you've forgotten which aisle you parked in.
An earlier visit to Barbecues R Us proved overwhelming - I stood mesmerised before the top-of-the-range Beefmaster. With its four burners and two serving tables it stood almost two metres wide and was big enough to roast a cow. We eventually bought a modest two-burner Bondi - named after the famous Sydney beach, it has a wave logo on its wheels - filled our new gas bottle, and used it last night without acquiring burns or food poisoning. Cooking on a barbie is man's work here and you have to drink beer while doing it, straight from the bottle, of course. So I did.
I have also become a member of the Coffs Ex-Services Club. Forget those dingy, backstreet dens we have in the UK. This is huge, white, gleaming edifice in the centre of town with more than 22,000 members. (See Coffs Ex-Services Club) For a mere $11 a year, you get cheap drinks - a round of schooners for myself and my de facto father and brother-in-law comes to less than $10 - cheap food, and free snooker. It's got restaurants, bistros, a number of bars and two halls for gigs. Most towns have something similar. We've started playing snooker once a fortnight, and very badly, too. It's true to say that there's not a great deal of ambiance, but it's clean, smart and well-run. (And if anyone invites you to a bowls club here, there's no need to be surprised. You're not being taken to some wooden hut in the local park where elderly ladies brew tea and cut sandwiches; again, we're talking well-appointed buildings, restaurants and bars and, if you do play bowls, floodlit greens).
How do they do it? The posters extolling "responsible gambling" in the toilets give a clue. In the room next to the four snooker tables, stretching as far as the eye can see, making calamitous electronic noises and flashing fitfully, are the ranks of poker machines, or pokies, reputed to be one of the least successful ways of hanging on to your stake money known to man or woman. But I like the place. It feels unpretentious, and foreign and comfortable at the same time.
Monday, September 27, 2004
Saturday, September 18, 2004
The Birds
Somehow, when I first fell foul of Australian wildlife, I expected that it would be a spider or a snake and not a bird. It was something of a surprise.
The first hint of trouble came when I was cycling happily along the Orara Valley, which is the neck of the woods where Russell Crowe lives and I think I saw his security lodge from the road. He's popular around here - I passed the club house and pitch of the Orara Valley Axemen, the local rugby league club that he's helped, and he's contributed to many other community projects. And he and his band, Thirty Odd Foot of Grunts - Thirty Odd Foot - play in local hotels.
Anyway, I was just thinking about how pleasant it was to cycle 42k without having to negotiate a road junction, when I noticed a bird-shaped shadow on the road beside me and then heard a swish of air just above and behind my head. This was repeated, together with some caw-ing, and then I was left in peace.
I thought no more of it until yesterday - rural doesn't even begin to describe the Orara Valley so you might expect wildlife that didn't know its place - when I was riding in the seaside suburb of Sawtell, heard another swish of air and then felt a resounding blow on the top of my helmet. Again, the attack came from behind so I couldn't see the bird. I was wondering whether I should get off, so I could get a swing at the thing, when it had another go. Obviously a bright bird, this time it came in from the side and clouted me behind my ear. Luckily, there's a uncoloured bit of helmet there, which the bird hadn't noticed. Then it cleared off.
Research showed one of these was the likely culprit.....
Australian magpie
It looks very pointy to me, which explains the gouge marks I discovered in my helmet when I got home. Around this time of year, they mate, nest and turn nasty, according to the Queensland Environment Protection Agency - Queensland EPA - which advises bike riders to wear a helmet (you're telling me - I would have had gouge marks in my head otherwise) and to fit an orange traffic flag (I'm not at all sure about this).
Pedestrians are advised to wear a hat or carry an umbrella, and you can even try painting a large eye on the top. Someone suggested I paint an eye on my helmet but they clearly don't appreciate the aesthetics of serious bike-riding. Oh yes, and according to the QEPA "learning to live with magpies can be rewarding." I suppose we should be grateful that the local pelicans don't turn stroppy in September.
The first hint of trouble came when I was cycling happily along the Orara Valley, which is the neck of the woods where Russell Crowe lives and I think I saw his security lodge from the road. He's popular around here - I passed the club house and pitch of the Orara Valley Axemen, the local rugby league club that he's helped, and he's contributed to many other community projects. And he and his band, Thirty Odd Foot of Grunts - Thirty Odd Foot - play in local hotels.
Anyway, I was just thinking about how pleasant it was to cycle 42k without having to negotiate a road junction, when I noticed a bird-shaped shadow on the road beside me and then heard a swish of air just above and behind my head. This was repeated, together with some caw-ing, and then I was left in peace.
I thought no more of it until yesterday - rural doesn't even begin to describe the Orara Valley so you might expect wildlife that didn't know its place - when I was riding in the seaside suburb of Sawtell, heard another swish of air and then felt a resounding blow on the top of my helmet. Again, the attack came from behind so I couldn't see the bird. I was wondering whether I should get off, so I could get a swing at the thing, when it had another go. Obviously a bright bird, this time it came in from the side and clouted me behind my ear. Luckily, there's a uncoloured bit of helmet there, which the bird hadn't noticed. Then it cleared off.
Research showed one of these was the likely culprit.....
Australian magpie
It looks very pointy to me, which explains the gouge marks I discovered in my helmet when I got home. Around this time of year, they mate, nest and turn nasty, according to the Queensland Environment Protection Agency - Queensland EPA - which advises bike riders to wear a helmet (you're telling me - I would have had gouge marks in my head otherwise) and to fit an orange traffic flag (I'm not at all sure about this).
Pedestrians are advised to wear a hat or carry an umbrella, and you can even try painting a large eye on the top. Someone suggested I paint an eye on my helmet but they clearly don't appreciate the aesthetics of serious bike-riding. Oh yes, and according to the QEPA "learning to live with magpies can be rewarding." I suppose we should be grateful that the local pelicans don't turn stroppy in September.
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
Waving, not drowning
Wandered over the headland to McCauley’s Beach the other afternoon, where the New South Wales junior surfing championship was taking place.
We’d had a few days of storms so the surf was pretty big, so much so that many of the competitors decided against wasting their energy battling out through the waves to the break. Instead they scampered, barefoot of course, round the bottom of the headland and out on to the rocks, where they waited for an incoming wave to break around them before flinging themselves and their boards into the sea and doing their stuff in front of the judges, who were comfortably set up on the beach, under a sunshade with a pair of binoculars and in sniffing distance of the barbecue.
Waiting to compete...
Apparently, it’s normal practice. It’s certainly something you wouldn’t see at home - 13 and 14-year-olds in an official competition being allowed to jump into the foaming waters without any supervision, life-jackets or lifeguards - at least not without howls of outrage and calls for the prosecution of all involved.
There’s also a tradition of fishing off such rocks and of fishermen entering the water involuntarily, courtesy of large waves, and being swept to a salty grave.
We’d had a few days of storms so the surf was pretty big, so much so that many of the competitors decided against wasting their energy battling out through the waves to the break. Instead they scampered, barefoot of course, round the bottom of the headland and out on to the rocks, where they waited for an incoming wave to break around them before flinging themselves and their boards into the sea and doing their stuff in front of the judges, who were comfortably set up on the beach, under a sunshade with a pair of binoculars and in sniffing distance of the barbecue.
Waiting to compete...
Apparently, it’s normal practice. It’s certainly something you wouldn’t see at home - 13 and 14-year-olds in an official competition being allowed to jump into the foaming waters without any supervision, life-jackets or lifeguards - at least not without howls of outrage and calls for the prosecution of all involved.
There’s also a tradition of fishing off such rocks and of fishermen entering the water involuntarily, courtesy of large waves, and being swept to a salty grave.
Thursday, September 09, 2004
Welcome Rain
We’ve just had 12 hours of steady rain. I realise that may not move or entertain those of you who have just come through what I gather to be the UK’s wettest August since dinosaurs roamed the earth but it’s a welcome event here.
Most of the country is in the grip of drought and has been for some years. Much of New South Wales and the neighbouring states is in deep trouble with no water for cattle or crops and the Government has announced a range of measures to help stricken farmers. All the signs are that everyone had better get used to it. Earlier this year, a group of climate scientists warned that Australia faced higher temperatures, more severe droughts and bushfires, and if that weren’t bad enough, more tropical diseases as well. And you all thought we lived in a veritable paradise, didn’t you?
Well, if you live in a town or a city, you could go on believing that. Unlike the farmers, you don’t see your waterholes and rivers shrinking and your stock dying. Everything looks pretty much as normal unless you take a trip to one of the reservoirs serving your city. In Sydney, for example, they’re down to just over 40 per cent of capacity. They waited until the reservoirs were half-empty before stepping up the water restrictions and now you must not hose your lawn or garden except with a hand-hose and that before 10am and after 4pm on Wednesday, Fridays and Sundays. You can’t use a sprinkler or hose down your car at all and, if your swimming pool holds more than 10,000 litres, you can’t fill it.
Hardly draconian and yet, apparently, half of Sydney’s water is used on gardens. And, according to the Green Industries Group, 5,900 jobs were lost in gardening and related industries before the tighter restrictions above were introduced in June. There are some hard issues here for local politicians.
Here, if you take a drive over Red Hill and down the other side to Karangi, you can inspect Coffs’ own water supply at the Karangi Dam. It’s currently three-quarters full, so looking much healthier than the Sydney reservoirs and we still have the bulk of our annual rainfall to come. Nevertheless, you can keep track of water levels on the net http://www.coffsharbour.nsw.gov.au/www/html/356-overview.asp and the restrictions in force here are at least as severe as those in Sydney.
Non-native plant - future limited?
I find this tougher approach rather comforting, though it seems we’re just as keen on watering our gardens as the Sydney-siders; after a period of rain, consumption drops because people aren’t out with hose pipes. Part of the problem is that people want lawns, which aren’t really a good idea in this climate, and that they’ve planted European and other non-native plants which need the water. The gardens between this house and the beach are incredibly verdant, but it’s not natural; a lot of watering goes on. On the other hand, I haven’t been near the native plants in our garden, planted by the landlord, since we moved in and they’re looking fine.
It all goes to show, I suppose, how much this country has been changed since Europeans arrived here. Can those changes be sustained in the face of global warming? Should they? Already there are signs that the population is tending to move toward the coast, giving up the unequal struggle in the interior. The number of people living in Coffs is predicted to rise from 62,000 to 90,000 by 2021. That’ll be quite a challenge for the people who manage the Karangi Dam.
Most of the country is in the grip of drought and has been for some years. Much of New South Wales and the neighbouring states is in deep trouble with no water for cattle or crops and the Government has announced a range of measures to help stricken farmers. All the signs are that everyone had better get used to it. Earlier this year, a group of climate scientists warned that Australia faced higher temperatures, more severe droughts and bushfires, and if that weren’t bad enough, more tropical diseases as well. And you all thought we lived in a veritable paradise, didn’t you?
Well, if you live in a town or a city, you could go on believing that. Unlike the farmers, you don’t see your waterholes and rivers shrinking and your stock dying. Everything looks pretty much as normal unless you take a trip to one of the reservoirs serving your city. In Sydney, for example, they’re down to just over 40 per cent of capacity. They waited until the reservoirs were half-empty before stepping up the water restrictions and now you must not hose your lawn or garden except with a hand-hose and that before 10am and after 4pm on Wednesday, Fridays and Sundays. You can’t use a sprinkler or hose down your car at all and, if your swimming pool holds more than 10,000 litres, you can’t fill it.
Hardly draconian and yet, apparently, half of Sydney’s water is used on gardens. And, according to the Green Industries Group, 5,900 jobs were lost in gardening and related industries before the tighter restrictions above were introduced in June. There are some hard issues here for local politicians.
Here, if you take a drive over Red Hill and down the other side to Karangi, you can inspect Coffs’ own water supply at the Karangi Dam. It’s currently three-quarters full, so looking much healthier than the Sydney reservoirs and we still have the bulk of our annual rainfall to come. Nevertheless, you can keep track of water levels on the net http://www.coffsharbour.nsw.gov.au/www/html/356-overview.asp and the restrictions in force here are at least as severe as those in Sydney.
Non-native plant - future limited?
I find this tougher approach rather comforting, though it seems we’re just as keen on watering our gardens as the Sydney-siders; after a period of rain, consumption drops because people aren’t out with hose pipes. Part of the problem is that people want lawns, which aren’t really a good idea in this climate, and that they’ve planted European and other non-native plants which need the water. The gardens between this house and the beach are incredibly verdant, but it’s not natural; a lot of watering goes on. On the other hand, I haven’t been near the native plants in our garden, planted by the landlord, since we moved in and they’re looking fine.
It all goes to show, I suppose, how much this country has been changed since Europeans arrived here. Can those changes be sustained in the face of global warming? Should they? Already there are signs that the population is tending to move toward the coast, giving up the unequal struggle in the interior. The number of people living in Coffs is predicted to rise from 62,000 to 90,000 by 2021. That’ll be quite a challenge for the people who manage the Karangi Dam.
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