Fraser Island

Rainbow Beach

Rain Forest

Lake MacKenzie

A Weekend in the Mountains

Nick on Cloud 9


The marvellous view from our flat


Huski - our fabulous location in Falls Creek


On the chairlift to Cloud 9


View across Mount Beauty

Out on the Grampians

The two of us

Nick and I spent Easter in the Grampians for a few days of mountain-bike riding and climbing up steep hills. (My ankles are still swollen from the pressure caused by my tough hiking boots.) We burned a lot of calories up-hill but promptly made up for that at dinner time!

We had marvelous blue skies and so the views from the top of the rocky peaks were spotless.

We stayed in a charming B&B out of Halls Gap (which is very loud and touristy), and from there explored the region. This included a Saturday spent at the Stawell Gift - a lovely country town coming alive for the big sporting event - and a guided tour of Seppelts heritage-listed winery in Great Western. There are 3km of underground tunnels where the sparkling wine is kept Champagne-style. But Nick and I remained unimpressed by the various tastings on offer.

One night an Echidna crossed Nick's path. It was during that golden hour, late afternoon, when all the kangaroos are out grazing. What strange animals we have in this country... and the birds, so lovely and noisy in the mornings!

We saw many things: sampled some damper and bush tucker at the Koori cultural centre, inspected some ancient rock paintings.


Going bush


Off the beaten track


Nick at the Stawell Gift


ciclyng along contry roads


Great Western's Heritage Listed wine cellars

Ride a Byke

In Melbourne byke riding is a total subculture.

There they are, kamikaze style, they claim the roads and sidewalks as their undisputed domain. Oblivious to road-traffic rules they are the ultimate consciencious objectors.

They ride aggressively, surpassing the obsolete tram network and snaking their way through the traffic jams. They carry their work clothes inside backpacks and will shower at the office.

Ride a Tram - Part 2

Riding on Melbourne trams is a great way to watch Melbournians in their natural habitat, and spy the endlessly entertaining parade of people go by. Here's a sample of what you may notice on any given day...

A thin 20-something Muslim girl wearing a black Jellabah, which has leopard print piping, and under which you could see her acid-wash jeans and sneakers.

The business man in his brown business suit, listening to his iPod Nano.

The business womand on the tram, wearing a business suit and cradling her toddler in her lap. She was feeding her baby a banana.

The 30-something man with spiky black hair and designer eyewear, and a tattooed arm.

The Jenny-Kee look alike, falling asleep on the Camberwell line.

The African lady in a bold African print (red and yellow) dress. Her hair braided into many tiniy braids that sticked out from her scalp lie a forest of miniature palm trees.

The Asian student reading "The Foodies' Secret Guide".

The homeless man in a woollen pinstripe suit, whose scent of gutter and rotting cardboard wafted through the tram.

On the sidewalk I watch a walking cliché: a suited woman wearing sneakers, she carries a foam cup of take-away skinny-soya-chino. She power-walks past all the tasteless women who team their office outfits with rubber thongs.

Amongst the anonymous crowd: a familiar face. Anthony J., my University lecturer in multimedia. His placid Buddah-like face floats above the nameless morning crowd of pedestrians.

At the Flinders Street tram stop, an Indian lady is wearing a saffron-coloured sari.

The posse of Indigenous Australians, homeless men and street kids, who camp on the benches at the feet of St. Paul's Cathedral, form a corroboree of cigarette butts and plastic cups of beer.

A group of cricket fans raids the tram. They are dressed in Green and Gold, and shout hymns from the Bamy Army song book.

Opposite me, a man with an elephant-print tie puts down his book, stares out the window, sighs uncontrollably and shakes his head as if a great weight might be crushing him. Maybe it's those elephans...

Ride a Tram - Part 1

In Melbourne not all trams are the same. Number 16 to St Kilda Beach is often steeped with tourists, but mainly, its passengers are under 35 and interesting-looking. On the other hand, the 67 to Malvern East always smells of piss.

Travelling to the CBD at 8.00 am is an ordeal. One must squeeze into the full tram in which passengers are squashed together like sardines. The morning rush of commuters is a survival of the fittest in order to secure a seating space to make the 40-minute commute bearable.

If you're unfortunate enough to have to stand, you'll find yourself dangling from one arm as you hold on to the hand rail for dear life, clutching all your belonging, including briefcase, newspaper, jacket (which you will have taken off due to the high level of humidity in the tram's microclimate and generated by all these sandwiched bodies). Possibly, you might as well be carrying an umbrella, given the umpredictability of Melbourne weather.

You'll be struggling with all of the above, all the while, trying desperately to maintain your balance as the tram rattles across intersections and hiccups through the morning rush hour, finally coming to sudden violent stops at red traffic lights. By now you'll be jealously voodooing someone securely seated - enjoying the sound of the music streaming from their personal stereo and peacefully reading a book.

Meanwhile, the effort of balancing and holding on to all your stuff, added to the aching feet from your stiletto heels, will cause your glasses to fog up.

But the ride home, at the end of a long working day is even more arduous.

Hot, crowded trams roll by slowly merging into the afternoon rush hour. Inside we are squashed sardine-like and sweaty and exhausted. The scent of bacteria and armpits, mingles with that of unwashed underwear, urine and spilled beer.

I prefer the new airconditioned trams, my favorite, number 16 to St. Kilda Beach.

226

Our friends, Andrew and Helaine, invited us to spend New Year's Eve with them in the country. Years ago, when the Melbourne City Council was upgrading the city's trams, it gave away the old 226 models. Since then, Andrew's Tram has been a work in progress, a point of reference on the vast, sunburnt property, somewhere spend weekends and be with family and friends...

The Fire Pit


The Cottage

a round of golf before dinner

dining al fresco

boding by the midnight fire

pancakes for breakfast

Balnarring

Nick and I spent a day at a friend's beach house in Balnarring. It was fun. While the boys played beach cricket I went for a stroll along the waterfront. And then, I saw trhee dolphins swimming close to shore. A small group of people gathered to get a closer look and we all waded our way into the cold(!) water. The dolphins appeared just as curious and swam in concentric circles, getting closer and closer. Finally they were just at arm's length! In all these years in Australia, and all the wild, isolated places I've travelled to, I never thought I'd end up witnessing a close encounter with dolphins right here, on the Mornington Peninsula!

Cup Weekend

lookout over Tidal River and Bass Straight, Wilson's Promontory

Picnic Bay, Wilson's Promontory

Over Cup Weekend, Nick and I spent four days in the bush, at Wilson's Promontory National Park. We rented a little country cottage and boy, was that fun! Just getting away from all the traffic and noise oh, what a relief! Yanakie was so isolated that at night the entire country side was pitch-black but for a glowing full moon that made everything look magic.

Our cottage, Yanakie

Nick and the BBQ

One day, mountain boots on, we decided to go on a big walk. So we trekked for 4Hrs, 9Km through brush and rainforests, up and down gulleys, scrambling over and under fallen trees. Finally we made it to a rocky outcrop at the top of Mount Bishop. From there you could look out over Lilly Pilly Gully, to Mt Oberon, Tidal River, Whisky Bay and Picnic Bay. The smooth surface of the sea reflected the shimmering light of the sun and it felt as if the entire Promontory was aglow. I certainly was beyond glowing; sweating like a pig is more like it.

Lookout at the top of Mt Bishop

Mt Bishop with Mt Oberon in background

Another day was spent on 90 Mile Beach, where Nick and I scrambled up the tallest sand dunes and then raced each other to the beach below. It was kind of like skiing without skis.

A surreal find on 90 Mile Beach

We enjoyed Gippsland very much driving through the Strzlecki Ranges, we stopped for lunch at a microbrewery and stocked up on groceries in country stores. We went to the Sunday markets in Foster. And risked losing our way on the lonely, dishevelled dirt road that meanders for 40Km through Tarra Bulga National Park. There we witnesed the most spectacular fern tree forests and many a bush wallaby, looked on in disbelief as we tried to find our way.

Foster street sign

Werribee Safari

Cheetah

Cheetah

Hippos

Lions

Giraffes

Rhinos

Time Out

In questo periodo non mi sento mai in forma, così ho deciso di prendermi qualche giorno di libero. Mentre gironzolavo per casa durante questi tre giorni di 'malattia', lunedì ho avuto modo di lavare i piatti, fare il bucato, pulire per bene il bagno, stirare e compilare i moduli della tassazione.

Ho trascorso martedì mattina ad archiviare le mie scartoffie , dividendo il materiale da leggere dai ritagli di giornale, salvati da Vogue e archiviandoli in un glande classatore diviso in varie sezioni tipo: Hair, Beauty, Style, Self Image, Travel...

Il pomeriggio l'ho dedicato a rivedere vecchi episodi di Sex and the City (SATC).

Mercoledì mi sono finalmente lavata i capelli e sono perfino uscita dall'appartamento per andare sotto casa a svuotare il container con il materiale eiciclabile e svuotare la cassetta delle lettere. Nella posta era arrivato un dépliant per delle vacanze sulla Sunshine Coast, nel Queensland. Chissà, forse a natale...

Per la gran parte, ho trascorso la giornata a surfare il web, a spiare Piazza Riforma attraverso la Webcam e a fare download di mp3 da Internet. Sono perfino riuscita a trovare 'Il Fait Chaud' di Passi, una canzone usata in un episodio di SATC a Parigi. Unica cosa costruttiva é stata scrivere un'offerta di lavoro per un impiego a metà tempo presso un'associazione a fine ecologico.

Il resto della giornata l'ho trascorsa a visionare la fine della serie 6 di SATC e a sognare l'Europa.

Starting Over

Gone again
Crossing the Great Water
Leaving my steeples and churchbells behind
In exchange for a place with no time
Packing-unpacking
The rhythms of my heart
Tea sets and corn-flake-box treasures
and Barbie-doll wardrobes
Folding entire existences
Wrarpping-sealing
My life dissected into 112 cardboard boxes
Then starting ove again
A two-bedroom attic on St. Kilda Road
It isn't home.

Tweaking

It's the eternal dilemma isn't it? Either too buisy working for a crust to enjoy some creative time, or too poor to make the most of all that down time. I think life is forever struggling to attain/keep a balance.

Going through a bit of a re-evaluating-my-values phase at the moment. Lying in bed this morning, I remembered that the last time I was on a holiday was over a year ago. (I don't think moving house and/or unemployment count.) So my last holiday was in July 2005: in Barcellona and the Provence. And it's been a hard slough ever since.

It's been a crazy time; with me having anxiety attacks and allsorts of psychosomatic simptoms until I finally told Nick I hated my job and wanted to quit. Of course I needed the doctor to tell me I had hypertension, before all that sunk in. I mean, Nick hates his job too and we were even (seriously) discussing the possibility of moving to Sydney so he could take up an offer at Bally...

What constitutes happiness? Is it a compromise? Is it settling for what you've got? I know that nothing hightligths how truly blessed and happy we are until we feel the threat of loss... So happiness is a form of stabiltiy and having all those things we take for granted. Yet, how easily we become restless and unsatisfied!

I don't know. Life's just too complicated. You always want what you ain't got and when you get it, it is something else you strive for. It's exhausting and neurotic.

Or maybe it's all about that constant struggle for balance...

Deep down inside our hearts, Nick and I couldn't commit to moving away. Too exhausted. But also: there is so much that is dear to us here and now. Life may be far from perfect, but it is the life we have made for ourselves and the life we have chosen.

Then again, it is all a journey to somewhere else... and who says there cannot be a bit of tweaking along the way?!

These Are a Few of My Favorite Things

Fresh flowers
Entertaining
Writing letters
Weekend getaways
Wealthy friend's parties
Buying perfume
Fresh sheets
Five star room service
Sunrise by the seaside
The island of Formentera

Il Paese delle Meraviglie

Quest'anno abbiamo festeggiato i nostri compleanni trascorrendo un tranquillo weekend allo Spa Country, ossia alle terme di Daylesford. Si tratta di un posto incantevole, circondato da colline, vigneti e foreste di pino. Abbiamo affittato un cottage dove alla mattina ci servivano una squisita colazione, con tanto succo bio e muffins fatti in casa. L'ampia vasca da bagno nella nostra stanza si convertiva a Jacuzzi; mi sono immersa con gli oli essenziali per godermi un bell'idromassaggio a lume di candela. Abbiamo cenato in un elegantissimo e rinomato ristorante, dove eravamo stati quando ci eravamo appena conosciuti, prima di partire per la Svizzera. La domenica mattina avevamo prenotato massaggi e trattamenti termali, dopo di che, una bella passeggiata fino a un café anni 50 dove ci hanno servito un'ottimo brunch.

L'Isola di Filippo

Durante una bella domienica di sole siamo andati a fare un giro in a Philip Island. Mi colpisce il fatto bizzarro che in inglese il nome Philip Island non abbia assolutamente nulla di strano, ma appena lo si traduce: l'isola di Filippo, suona buffissimo.

L'isola si trova a un'oretta di macchina da Melbourne, e la si raggiunge tramite una highway di campagna poco frequentata, che attraversa una serie di pascoli e macchie e infine costeggia il mare.

Siamo giurnti a destinazione all'orario opportuno per goderci un allettante pranzo di sella di capriolo e spaetzli, sul terrazzo di un elegante ristorante in riva al mare. Seduti al sole sorseggavamo il vino godendoci la magnifica vista del mare tranquillo, mentre all'orizzone s'intravvedeva la cofigurazione frastagliata di un gruppo geologico conosciuto come The Nobbies (che mi é impossibile tradurre).

Abbiamo fatto un giro a piedi lungo la punta più estrema dell'isola. Diverse specie marine si dividono questo lembo di terra tormentato dai venti. Appena al largo della costa si trova Seal Rock, un isolotto roccioso, densamente popolato da una tribù di foche; mentre a riva un'imponente colonia di gabbiani invade la scogliera, tanto che ci si dimentica dei Blue Fairy Pinguins, l'attrazione principale dell'isola.

Non ho mai visto tanti gabbiani in vita mia, sembrava di essere in una scena del film di Hitchcock!

Casa Dolce Casa!

La nostra casa





Finalmente ci siamo organizzati.

Luglio 2006.

Settimana scorsa Nick ed io abbiamo finalmente trovato un lavoro fisso. Io nel Marketing per una grande ditta di architettura, Nick in uno dei principali gruppi di abbigliamento in Australia!

E se cio' non bastasse, settimana scorsa non abbiamo perso tempo a firmare un contratto di locazioe per un luminoso appartamento Art Deco, ristrutturato, al secondo piano in una grande casa stile Tudor (quelle un po' Hansel & Gretel, con il tetto spiovente e le facciate decorate con le travi di legno marrone scuro). Grandi pini circondano il giardinetto intorno alla casa.

L'appartamento consiste di un'entrata, due ampie camere da letto, uno studio e, un grande salotto. In cambio la cucina e il bagno, seppur graziosissimi, sono un po' stretti; troppo angusti per accomodare una lavastoviglie e una vasca da bagno. Ma le piastrelle sono tutte originali degli anni 20 poi c'e' il parquet, i soffitti sono decorati a stucco, e i lampadari, stupendi!

La zona e' interessante. La nostra stradina e' tranquilla con tanti platani, e si trova a 50 metri da St. Kilda Raod dove l tram in 10 minuti conducono a St. Kilda, Prahran e il centro citta'. In una direzione c'e' Faulkner Park grande 10 volte il Parco Ciani con campi da tennis, cricket e baseball. Dall'altra parte c'e' Albert Park con un lago artificiale dove si puo' andare a vela (intorno al quale annualmente si tiene il Grand Prix di F1), e uno dei principali campi da golf della citta'. Il nostro appartamento e' a 1-2 Km dalle spiagge, dai mercati, le boutique di South Yarra, i cinema, i ristoranti e i bar.

In questi giorni siamo indaffaratissimi nell'acqisto di mobili, macchina per lavare, frigo ecc... Appena avremo finito di comperare tutti i nuovi mobili che ci servono, pensiamo di procurarci due belle biciclette e di usarle durante il fine settimana, visto che siamo' in pianura e in zona cosi' centrale e vicini a tutto.

Non vedo l'ora che arrivi l'estate! Non che ora faccia freddissimo, ma prevedo che ora che finisca l'inverno, Nick e d io ci saremo installati per benino nella nostra nuova casa e finalmente averemo le nostre bici per poter trarre vantaggio dai chilometri e chilometri di piste ciclabili a Melbourne. Dai giardini botanici lungo il fiume Yarra dove si passa per il centro citta' lungo Southbank, arrivando fino al lungo mare dei Docklands e da li' si continua direzione Port Melbourne, lungo Beaconsfield Parade, fino a St.Kilda e oltre, per arrivare alle spiagge di Brighton e SAndringham dove Nick ed io abbiamo trascorso gli ultimi mesi a casa dei suoi genitori. E una volta in riva al mare, e' possibile pedalare lungo tutta la baia di Port Philip Bay!

E' un bene che le stagioni siano invertite, in questo modo abbiamo avuto i mesi freddi per organizzarci e sistemarci per benino. E appena arrivera' il bel tempo, saremo rilassati per goderci con calma la lunga, torrida estate australe!

Penso molto al Ticino in questo periodo che mi tocca mettermi i guanti e la sciarpa, e mi viene nostalgia del bagno pubblico, di Festate, dei Open Air, dei grotti...

Evil Lies Inside the Pantry

Exactly four-months after arriving in Melbourne, I find myself staring at the reflection in the mirror, wondering how I got myself this out of shape. Before I left Switzerland, I had actually lost quite a bit; but now, there is no trace left of all tha hard work and sacrifice. I have trouble zipping up my 'fat' jeans. The situation is out of control, but how did it get that way?

I go to the department store and purchase the most expensive German electronic scales I can find; one that breaks down your weight into persentages of fat, water and muscle mass.

When I get home and stand on the scales. Horrr! I estimate that since moving into my in-law's I've gained an average 0.58Kg per week!!! How is that possible?

Here's a sample inventory of what kind of 'food' is available at any given time in this house (the foloowing was all recorded on the same day!):

FOOD ON KITCHEN COUNTERS AND IN LIVING ROOM
- Provence-style bread sticks
- a whole chocolate sponge cake with butterscotch icing
- a dinner plate filled with french patisserie
- one fruit bowl filled with pistachio nuts
- a fish bowl of assorted novelty chocolates

FOOD INSIDE THE FRIDGE
- 300ml tub of double cream
- 200ml tub of regular cream
- a packet of toasted coconut marshmellows
- 2x bottles of maple syrup
- 3x 500ml bottles of coke
- 1x 500ml bottle of ginger ale
- 1x tub of ready-made pancake mix
- 1x bottle of white wine
- 1x six-pack of Carlton Extra Dry beer

FOOD INSIDE THE PANTRY
- 1x Panettone
- 2x boxes of assorted chocolates
- 1x Christmas Pudding
- 1x large Toblerone
- 1x 250g chocolate with orange flavour
- 4x packets of assorted crackers
- 1x spare pancake mix
- 1x torrone
- 1x large bag of macademia nuts
- 1x 250g mint chocolate
- 1x bag of chocolate chip cookies
- 1x packet of Orios
- 1x packet of chocholate Teddy Bears
- 2x packets of Tim Tams
- 1x box of Angel Slices
- 1 packet of Arnott's Triple Wafers

FREEZER
- various assorted meat pies
- various assorted individually-sized ice cream
- various assorted individually-sized sorbet

Bells Are A-Ringing

The first time I noticed anything was after I had my ears professionally cleaned. You know, when your trusted alternative medicine practicioner burns a cone over your earhole to, supposedly, suck out all the gunk. They reckon you hearing improves significantly after such a proceure. I, however, felt something had gone wrong because not only did my hearing not improve, but I actually felt a kind of buzzing that kept interferring with the quality of my hearing. A slight buzzing that underscored everyday life. Eventually though it kind of faded away.

Then there were those times at home alone, during my time off work. Whenever I was in the study working on the computer, I would hear a strange hissing sound coming from the neighbours Television set on the other side of the wall. I just tried to ignore it.

Finally, in the cramped bedroom Nick and I shared during our first months in Melbourne, I would stay awake at night because of a high-pitched piercing sound that permeated the room. I thought it was some kind of static, probably caused by the intercom or the PC speakers in the study next door. At times the whistling was so loud it phisicaly woke me out of my slumber in the middle of the night preventing me from falling back asleep.

Finally, I mentioned this to Nick and was surprised to learn that he had never heard this piercing sound, which was tormenting me at night. It was at that point, that the unconfortable suspicion, which I'd kept dismissing for weeks and weeks, revealed itself as a reality. This noise was indeed there, however it occurred only inside my head, as only my ears could capture it. Or more aptly put: it was my very ears that were generating this disturbance; I had infact developed a hearing disability.

I booked a check-up with a specialist and after a series of audiology test it was confirmed that, alhough my hearing had suffered no loss or deterioration, some kind of damage to my ears was definitley present and causing this distutbing sound.

Apparently it gets worse when I'm under a lot of stress, which would explain why the ringing in my ears has become a constant and exasperating soundtrack to my daily existence. I have grown increasingly intolerant of harsh and loud sounds.

Sometimes the Tinnitus keeps me awake at night. Sometimes it is intolerably loud. At such times I feel myself beign driven over the edge by this obnoxious noise in my head. It is said that Tinnitus may lead to depression and even suicide and I can understand those reasons. But the saddest thing for me, is that as I am confronted with the daily tensions and stresses of life, the silence that once was a welcome source of solace and equilibrium for me, has now become my worst enemy.

it is ironic that I, a lover of quietitude and silence, must seek the constant humm of city traffic to distract me from the torment of my inner noise.

Una Vita Nuova

A parte gli opossum che si impossessano dei gardini e di notte gironzolano facendo strani rumori come degli spiritelli maligni, devo riabituarmi al modo di vivere down under. Per esempio, il caffé latte te lo servono nel bicchiere di vetro. E una volta, passando davanti a una chiesa mentre celebravano un funerale, ho visto che sul marciapiede c'era un uomo vestito con una gonna scozzese che suonava la cornamusa. E per esempio al bar e al ristorante, le donne usano appoggiare le loro borsett sul pavimento (che schifo)! Si vede che non valgono molto.

Menre ero assente, a St. Kilda hanno rinnovato i bagni pubblici che da sempre erano in sfacelo. Un edificio storico stile Liberty, con torrette arabo con vista spiaggia-mare, i bagni oggi vantano un simpatico mosaico di piastrelle multicolori che adornano la zona bar con terrazzo sul lungomare, mentre all'interno dell'edificio si possono fare i bagni caldi nell'acqua di mare. Naturalmente ampie vetrate permettono una vista sulla baia.

L'intero piano terra é adibito a varie zone wellness e beautz, mentre al piano superiore si trova Soul Mama un simpaticissimo ristorante vegetariano con una stupend vista mare.

Durante il mio primo inverno trascorso a Melbourne nel nuovo millennio, mi stupiva la nebbia che rendeva grigia e squallida questa città e mi ricordava tanto Milano.

Mentre all'inizio di quest'anno sbarcavo il lunario con il lavoro temporaneo, ero ingaggiata da una ditta di costruzione che aveva dei contratti con l'esercito. Alla scrivania al sedicesimo piano aggiornavo dati su pagine XL. Da lassù si godeva una veduta spettacolare sulla city circostante e oltre, fino alla catena degli Yu-Yangs. Ogni tanto alzavo lo sguardo dallo schermo e scorgevo stormi di piccioni che volteggiavano proprio di fronte all amia finestra. E poi leggevo nel rapporto che si trattava di aggionranre un palazzo adibito alla costruzione di missili (che paura)!

Lavorare nella City mi piaceva. Alla mattina sgusicavo dalla scatola di sardine del metrò per ritornare in superficie all'incrocio di Elizabeth e La Trobe, proprio di fronte a un palazzone Art Dèco che anche lì, mi sembrava di essere in centro Milano. Al mattino la città é invasa da pedoni frettolosi che, in marcia per l'ufficio stringono in mano un cartoccio con un caffé da asporto. Durante l'inverno si vestono con sciarpe, ma solo al mattino. Ma ho visto anche gente che non portava le calze. Non sanno proprio come vestirsi!

Una mattina, tra un mare di anonimi volti annoiati, una volta ho scorto una donna addormentata sul metrò. Aveva messo le cuffie del suo Personal Stereo e sognava beata. Come farà a svegliarsi in tempo per non mancare la sua stazione?