Cycle of Obsession

To the cinema in Sawtell last night to see The Flying Scotsman, about the cyclist, Graeme Obree. Cycling is really taking off in Coffs Harbour at present, I’m glad to say, with twice-weekly community rides attracting up to 80 people, as well as the group training runs for the racing fraternity.

So one of the cycling shops sponsored the showing and handed out free tickets to all those who habitually spend their pocket money on lycra and exotic bits of metal. It was very strange watching the goings-on in a gloomy Glasgow and stepping out afterwards into an evening of Mediterranean warmth to have coffee in a street café surrounded by palms and fig trees.

Stranger still was the story told to me about buying a tandem on eBay and travelling to Vilnius to collect it. And yes, that was Vilnius in Lithuania and not some other Vilnius in Queensland or Tasmania. Cyclists are the same the world over.

Old Conflict

The drive to end child abuse and generally improve life in the Aboriginal communities of the Northern Territory took a step forward with
this agreement by the traditional owners to lease their land to the Government. To an outsider, it seems strange that this post-colonial conflict is still being worked at the beginning of the 21st century.

This story about the near-death of an Indigenous language shows the difference between the two societies.

New Frontier

Neighbour John has run away to join the circus - or, at least, the modern equivalent. He's sold his fine foods wholesale business and gone to work on the set of Spielberg's new television series The Pacific in far-away Queensland.  It all comes about because Henry, the brother of John's partner, Liz, does logistics for film companies, and not so long ago did a long stint in China for Mission Impossible 3 (or was it 4?).  Anyway, it's rather sad for us but he will be back, no doubt with many tales, and it just shows golden opportunities are just waiting to be grasped out here in the colonies. 

Still Foreign

Even after a few years here, things still happen that make you say: "That would never have happened at home."

For Sara recently, it was leaving the office to walk to the car and watching three blokes trying to wrestle a goat out of the back of a ute and into the vet's surgery.  For me, it was a visit to local masseuse, Glenda ,who lives round the corner.  Glenda used to work on prawn trawlers in the Gulf of Carpentaria and regaled me with fishy tales as I lay on the couch.  I tottered home afterwards, listening to the surf, under a sky full of stars, and thinking about the sweet smelling sea slugs which had sparked a violent allergy that made her swell up like a balloon.