A lazy start yesterday, although that was soon to be changed. Another phone call from Chris to find out whether I had anything planned for the day. Well, not really, so another guided tour was coming my way. Since Chris’ wife needed the family car, we were going to tour around in her sports car. Another new experience to add to the list :  from now on, nothing is going to surprise me anymore. This time we headed for the country side at a good speed (a car likes that proves to have a very sensitive accelerator, the slightest touch and the engine gives full speed ahead!). Where as I have been fortunate enough to see the living version of Skippy the previous day, I have been confronted with the less fortunate congener yesterday : some poor ones which had been hit by cars were laying along the road.


Australia is big, that’s a lesson which I have already taken in. The wide views over the gentle slopes, which prove to be much greener here than in Adelaide, will always stay with me. Those typical gum trees, as solitary guards, waiting to give shelter to one of the few cows  venturing in the pastures. With miles in between, a farm house is to be discovered. Makes me wonder who can survive here… No Australian farmer will ever be able to charm me, that is for sure! I still haven’t figured out whether it is the intention to turn me into “Aussie Charlotte” but sure enough efforts are being put in to offer me as much of the local taste as possible. No chocolate but beer was the next experience on the list. I ended up in a local pub, drinking Aussie beer (although Belgian I am not a beer drinker. Having said that, I might change my opinion after my first taster!) in and amongst a whole bunch of local Aussies. Large screens were projecting horse races and a rugby game simultaneously. Gambling seems to be the second nature of many Australians. Needless to say that horse races are a number one for these people. Rugby plays a big part in  society here too : youngsters play it from a very early age. United as Oz may be, this doesn’t apply to rugby : 3 different types of the same game… Wonder if one of my next outing would be a lesson in rugby???

Had I been to a local market yet? No? Well, direction market it was. Don’t expect the European type of market as a market here, believe it or not, is organised indoors. Aussies have a social life outdoors but do their shopping indoors. The large variety of fruits and vegetables draws the attention straight away, no doubt that the choice here is a lot wider. Wonder whether the melting pot of cultures is to be “blamed” for this. A shop with nothing but nuts of spices… those would struggle to survive in our country. However, in a country where the sun shines more than one reckons to be possible, I would have expected outdoor markets. Those Aussies, they keep on surprising me!

To round off the day with on a cultural note, I was taken to the National Gallery. The most impressive of pieces of art, coming from a wide area, are being put on display here. Some of these masterpieces make it clear straight away, that I should have tried my luck as an artist (although I am the first one to admit that I haven’t got a single artistic gen in my body): hanging up an empty frame is something even I would have managed! Chris soon realised that modern art isn’t really my cup of tea, so we moved on to one of the rooms where impressionism was being shown. John Glover, a name to remember for me. The exploration was topped up with some Aboriginal art and some masterpieces from India (beautiful cloths). Time to go after that…

It is just wonderful to be offered the taste of a country on a golden plate. Hospitality isn’t a hollow word down under : no need to give me more proof of that.

Goodnight all

charlotte

A quiet day yesterday: not that there was nothing to talk about… on the contrary : my day was packed leaving me with no time to write it all down. I am not a Duracell bunny : no nightly writing after a day to behold.

The day started in an Aussie way,  in other words : relaxed. Till a phone call broke the morning rest : one of my guests, whom I have welcomed twice over the years, was wondering how much I had seen of Canberra so far. Clear enough not sufficient, so I ended up being offered a guided tour impromptu . Some offers are just “too nice to refuse” and surely this one classified as such. In less than no time I was being collected. Believe it or not but Chris, whom has been living in Canberra since many years, did not even know of the existence of this suburb. Just down the road, a entirely new development is being built : suburbs are growing at the speed of daylight. Whilst the “old” city of Canberra (having said that: “old” does have another dimension here) has been designed by an architect on demand of the government, the more recent area’s are being designed by developers. Europe in a reversed way: old cities with narrow streets and new suburbs with more spacious roads. The Aussie version is : an old city with very large roads and new suburbs with small roads. It only confirms on universal rule : for developers every  square inch counts!

The new Parliament House was the point of destination. Only in use since 1988, this massive building can still be referred to as new. If it has been the intention to tell the world that Australia is a young nation which is growing rapidly, I can only say that the architect has met the challenge in a brilliant way. The first impression is overwhelming: walking into a huge room with numerous pillars, covered with pink marble, refering to the gum trees, with their soft pink and grey colours. Even though this is a modern building with white walls and a lot of incoming light, it still has a warm atmosphere. For a split second, it strikes out that the architect has succeeded in catching the Aussie world within the walls of this room. The second hall proves to be enormous is size, with the most beautiful wooden floor I have ever seen: inviting me to start dancing straight away. It shines in a breathtaking way… This room is dominated by a massive tapestry (20m X 9 m), based on a painting by Arthur Boyd. On this very spot, Flemish tapestry is losing it status of “large”. This blows me away…

Australia is a melting pot of different cultures but even more so, it is the country of intense colours; I can’t deny being impressed by the beauty. Blue has a different dimension to it, red is not as harsh as I what I am used to: it almost feels fragile, whilst yellow is so bright that one needs to put on sun glasses (which reminds me of the fact that, after 2 weeks in Oz, I am convinced that Aussies are being born with sun glasses on their nose or head!). The colours are splashing of this tapestry, vibrant as the country itself!

The senate and the house of representatives have a very European style, except for the green and the red being much softer. I have been given a decent lesson on Australian politics, which has left me with the believe that all politicians are the same, regardless which nationality is indicated on their passports. Alike their antipodes, the average Aussie doesn’t seem to be too impressed by the ladies and gentlemen who occupy those seats. Another similarity : as in Europe, coalitions seem to change from time to time.

Not everything what is being discussed by politicians should be heard : even that has been incorporated in the design of this building. A centrally located fountain should prevent that someone is listening in whilst the authority figures are having an informal chat. ( “Watergate” was the word that jumped to my mind)

Enough about politics : the next stop was one to refuel the inner person, which took us to a restaurant in the old city centre. Eating has never been one of my priorities (nor will it ever be), in other words : I don’t want to waste too much time on it. A sandwich in a restaurant where men in suit and tie, blend in between those in jogging and sneakers. Again that cosy mix. It has drawn my intention that one can not really sin against the dress code in this country : youngsters in shorts and low cut tops, people in daily city wear and others, in a coat and bonnet : one sees it all in the same street. Clear enough a population with such different roots has a different thermostat as well : what proves to be cold for one, seems to be summer weather for the other. Should be acceptable and clear enough that is the case in Canberra.

What’s the action a commanding officer undertakes when he wants to capture a city? Lesson learned in the Great War : move to the higher ground to have the overview. With no intentions to invade Canberra (other than as an anxious tourist), we went up Mount Ainslie. The view from the top is stunning : it becomes clear how stretched out this city is but at the same time it shows the amount of green in the centre. We had a leisurely drive up to the top. Wandering around we bumped into an acquaintance of Chris, grasping for breath. That brave man had run up to the top and just to make sure his condition wouldn't slip away, he added a number of push-ups. It doesn’t take that much to impress a Belgian… should I have told him that?

Later in the day, I have been guided through the embassy section of the city. Apparently every country had been asked to build their embassy in the style of the homeland. When hearing that, I couldn’t do anything else but panic : how on earth can Belgium represent its soul in a building? I won’t be able to provide the answer to that question for the good reason that the Belgian embassy is a well kept secret… we didn’t manage to find it. Some of the countries understood only too well what was expected (India, Thailand) while others clearly didn’t. Our neighbouring countries can go for the top on that list : France and Germany… not a single French or German would recognise their own embassy!

Enough of bricks and concrete, we move on to fauna and flora. True nature lovers will know that autumn isn’t really the best time of year to admire flowers. Even without blooming flowers the botanic garden is well worth the visit. Don’t question me for names : my hard drive is already overloaded. What I do remember is the name of a grey and red bird (kind of an oversized parakeet) : Galahs, hundreds of them to be seen.

Meanwhile Chris had learned that there was still a gap in my introduction to this country. Where have all those kangaroos gone to? And then I ended up, having a guide with a mission : I was going to see my first roo that very same day! It pays to be persistent : after a very short drive and an even shorter walk, I stood in front of the hopping national symbol of this country. Fact is that the puzzled kangaroo looked at me with the same amazement as I did. Funny creatures : a small head, ears which seem to be continuously in move, a spine which goes from bend over to straight upwards in a fraction of a second… The more I looked, the more there were to be spotted : small, tall, hopping around, laying down… Hard to believe that barely 3 minutes away from the town centre, wildlife is to be found in it’s natural habitat. Canberra is being referred to as the bush capital: I’ve seen living proof of that.

I was neatly being escorted to the front door by my gallant guide, promising that there is a lot more to be discovered and that he would happily guide me around again. Who am I to complain? Gratitude and joy, these are the feelings which I experience now.

Time to change into a different outfit since I was invited for an evening meal by a major and his wife. A typical Australian meal: what would that be like? The start proved to be very Spanish as we were greeted with sangria. I am still doubting whether the entrée was a soup or not (it could be either by the looks) . Fact is that it contained fish which was ever so nice but…spicy! Wow, that put my mouth on fire. First lesson learned : Aussie kitchen is different from the European one, the influence of the neighbouring countries can not be denied.  The main dish was beef (slightly similar to Flemish stew) , served with rice, a dish with vegetables and a dish with (again spicy) potatoes. My hostess was kind enough to warn me, so I stayed miles away from the potatoes. Safe the best for last, no doubt about it. The dessert proved to be heavenly : a crème with lemon. Out of this world!

Before I realised it, the clock pointed at midnight. Time to head "home". A beautiful day, full of warmth, friendship and laughter. Another day to confirm that booking this trip was the best decision I have ever made.

Good night,

charlotte

Dear all,

I am more or less recovered from the shock of yesterday, although it is not  out of my system yet. I just need a few days to digest and then I will be ready to beat the world again (at least that is what I hope.)

Would I be suffering from the after-effects of a shock (sounds almost as if I have survived an earthquake)? This morning my power meter was definitely stuck on “refuel” : I didn’t want to get out of bed, nor did I feel like doing anything at all. Laziness is a bad advisor as it only results in the fact that one starts worrying even more. So : get into action, girl, that is a remedy that always works

What do to do if you want to shoot in action in someone else's house?? Looking for work is the logical answer to that question.. And so, my eye fell on a laundry basket, which in no uncertain terms made it clear that the measure was full (in this case: the laundry basket). Stacey told me that I was free to use their laundry machine, whenever I wanted to, but my dear hostess, to whom technology has no secrets ( while she assumes that this applies to everyone!), forgot to explain how to operate it. Opening the door, filling the machine, doesn’t present to much of a problem. But what comes next? Even Christmas (the family cat), who usually ignores me point blank,  came to check on me as if she wanted to warn me for the disaster that was about to happen. Sure enough the last thing I wanted to achieve was clothes, reduced to half the size, on the line. Well, I am happy to say that my self-confidence (when it comes to operating buttons on a machine) has received an enormous boost. As with public transport : I now feel to be in control of all situations . This reads that I can handle silk, wool, cotton without any hesitations

Autumn in Canberra: there are worse seasons on earth. The sun puts in an effort, a breath of wind and dry air: the ideal formula for quick drying and that is what laundry does.

Just before noon I was picked up by someone called Tony, who took me to the university for the third age (not that I have any intention to subscribe as yet ). Along the way he picked up another 2 people: a 87 - year old and a 90-year-old: brisk men, still eager to learn. Made me feel a teenager! Especially Bill,  was a very interesting conversation partner. At the outbreak of the war, he had signed up as intrepid young  man to the call of duty (as a volunteer of course). Soon came to conclude that the army wasn’t not really his thing, so moved on to the Air Force. Like any young man, he was chasing the dream for a career as a top gun Tom Cruise. Many are called but few are chosen: Bill discovered soon enough. Not the fast fighter planes were to become his world, but the much more cumbersome bombers. After an intensive 2 years training , he received the title of pilot, which meant that he was to drop his part of the “load” over Germany. When I asked how many flights he had done, he replied innumerable. Learning that I came from Belgium, he told me: I often flown above you. Correction please: over my mother yes, as I was not yet in production!

On one of the flights there was a bomb stuck in the system what constituted a real danger when landing. On the flight back to England, he undertook frantic efforts to loosen the absurdity and according to him, he finally  managed when Glen Miller’s plane was in the area  (haven’t I have heard that story before???). As a result of health problems after the war, Bill lost all opportunities to become a commercial pilot. Instead of conquering the skies, Bill became an accountant: as a career change, I guess that can count.

This afternoon was just a taster for me: so that I would know what I am expected to do next week. Thank you, it worked perfectly to reduce my confidence (killed instantly the boost it had experienced in morning!) The lecturer, Barry…( I didn’t get his surname) had been active in the media world in a previous life. Apart from that he had also written speeches for many politicians, so needless to say that he knew the ropes, something he did demonstrate there with a natural ease. He proved to be a very entertaining speaker presenting a fascinating talk on Galipolli in combination with an impressive power point (having all latest features included). I will be sweating next week… that already I know.

Back home (that is how it feels like)  I wanted to do some ironing. So far I have been nothing but impressed by Australian houses but now I realize there is one large shortage…Where can I plug in please? No plugs to be found. Copper must be incredibly expensive here, or : Aussies just don’t iron their clothes???

Pizza to put the day to an end, a lovely chat and then: yes, definitely some blogging…

Best wishes,

Dear All,
A day as many others: at least for my hosts, as both of them were back to work again today. It seems an eternity to me since I have experienced that pressure on my shoulders. Too bad that, what seems to be an eternity, doesn’t last an eternity.

So this was the first morning for me to wake up in a house that was completely deserted, except for that dog and the cat. The dog has wisely decided that there was human life in the guest room (oh yes, since the youngest son of the family has returned from a few days of camp, I dropped ranking on the spot: Skipper shifted to the bed of his master) and that this person could act perfectly as a back-up option. For a moment, I thought this house was haunted, when noticing that the door of my room (which is a bit twisted so it doesn’t close a 100%) very quietly opened. It was the small, little brad sneaking in. Since his food made him flourish in width rather than height, I couldn’t spot him. It was only when 2 hairy paws appeared on the edge of my bed, that I knew I wasn’t going to write a ghost story tonight…..

After I had savoured my breakfast (and I must admit : Australian bread is delicious), I was ready to go. Life can be so simple… unfortunately that isn’t always the case though. I had barely left the house, to come to the conclusion I couldn’t lock the front door. Sure enough I had a key but no manual. Which ever direction I turned the key (remembering that in the US you have to turn the key in the opposite direction from what we are used to in Europe), nothing worked. All my efforts had the same effect: the door opened swiftly! On to plan B : all houses have screen doors as well, which, believe it or not, have a lock as well. Where to find the logic behind that, I guess my hosts will have to explain it to me. To be complete: I have to mention that this screen doors have a metal grid ( small enough to make sure that no human being can get through). However, I still haven’t figured out why this door has a lock too. Would it be designed for those Belgians, who don’t manage to operate the first lock???

The bus today, offered a free “speedy Gonzales” experience : the driver had decided to honour the name of the bus (rapid red: what’s in a name?) by giving the accelerator an extra hit. No doubt about it that a record has been killed today! No need to worry about police: alike kangaroos, they seem to be hard to spot. This surely presents the biggest difference with Washington, where the streets were colouring blue with police…definitely not the case here but amazingly enough there seems to be hardly any crime here. Canberra is considered to be a very safe city

When walking through this city: one can not deny that it exudes wealth. With exception of a couple of streets, where it is visible that money is tight, I was left with the feeling that money is the last of all concerns. Clear enough, Australia is obviously a big country, where one would expect to come across differences. I guess that Adelaide and Canberra are prove of this. When walking the streets, glitzy Audi’s and Mercedes cars are to be seen all the time, sure enough that wasn’t the case in Adelaide. I was quite amazed to hear that there is no compulsory MOT check is some states : in other words, as long as the engine runs, one is allowed to drive that car. Would this the be the explanation for the fact that I barely see any garages around here?

The most produced car here is a “Holden”.  Since I didn’t seem to succeed to mock their national pride on 4 wheels in the traffic, Hugh (my host in Adelaide), pointed some out to me. Hello… their Holdens are Opel cars with a different emblem. When looking at the fleet: one soon spots the difference with the US: no big vans or jeeps here, but much more European styled cars. 

Once arrived in Canberra, I just jumped on another bus (after all, I am experienced by now) to head to the AWM (since I don’t overeat, there is no need to work away any extra pounds by walking the distance). I just wanted to visit the WWI exhibition more in depth as I still find it a fascinating world. 

And of course, I am keen to find out how in what way different guides present the history of the Great War to their audience, so I decided to listen in to a guide at work in this section. If ones believes in coincidence : what about this one… In the first group, a man stepped forward asking the guide if she knew anything on Hill 60. She replied in a very honest way that she had no specific knowledge and then turned to the group, in a jokingly way, asking if anyone in the group might be able to help. To me, that is an opportunity not to be missed of course, so it ended up that I was acting as a guide in the WWI section of the AWM!  If I would be offered this as a job: I tell you something, I would grab it with both hands! I really had to bite my tongue or the 90 minutes which are allotted to a guide to cover all of the AWM, would have been filled in with the history of WWI only!

In the afternoon, I chatted with someone who was looking at rearranging the WW I exhibition room (in the next couple of years this part of the AWM is going to be completely refurbished). To me, this was the signal to make clear that the role played by the Diggers in the Salient is not being covered as it should. Ninety percent of the coverage is on the Somme area whilst only a scant of 10 percent is dedicated to the Salient. So I keep on repeating ad nauseam, that the Battle of Broodseinde, the biggest success during the Battle of Passchendaele and a very Anzac achievement, is not even being mentioned here!

I guess that over the years, I have proven the fact that being talkative can help you forward in life. And that is no different here : in less than no time I was taken to the catacombs to be introduced to the head of all the guides. Apparently the bush telegraph ( in Belgian that would described as the “gossip machine”) had already done its work, since the man already knew of the fact that a Flemish guide had enchanted his audience. Fact is that I have been invited to talk to the guides this coming Wednesday. I wonder where the bureaucrat is Brussels is now, as that lady of the National Office of tourism claimed that a single person couldn’t achieve anything. At least all the guides of the AWM will know the story of the Salient in more depth. I wonder to how many visitors that will be passed on to???

On the return journey, the bus seemed to have lost all its speed. Oh yes, another nice difference with Europe : in all bus stops, there is a sign, saying that the given times on the time table are approximate times: ie “timing in the Australian way. I love it!

I almost had to find my way back home in darkness : with no nuclear plants in this country, it means that there are not half as many street lights as I am used to. I could see myself walking with my little flashlight : the only missing part was a sign “stray Belgian” to make the picture complete. 

To round the day off, I have been very active in another field. My hosts are very involved in the starting up of a new charity organisation, called “soldier on” (http://soldieron.org.au/) to help wounded soldiers (that large group, which never makes the statistics and ends up being gradually forgotten). A very noble goal, although I would have expected this to be the job of the defence department. That is true to a certain extend but there is so much red tape (why does that sound so familiar to me???), so some victims simply never get all the help they need. All evening long, we have been packing wrist bands to send them to the many people who have decided to support this charity. I am sure many more will follow as orders are coming in all the time. 

Looking at my life: it seems to be my fate to be am connected to a war, albeit it is a much more recent one in this case. Where are the days, that the Great War was being referred to as “ the war to end all wars”?  Marco Borsato ( a very famous Dutch singer) has the answer with his song : dreams are deceiving…


Well, I surely hope that mine are not!
Charlotte

copyright: Charlotte Descamps 2012