Dear All,

This will be a mini update as for the last few days, I simply have not been up to much. After my farewell to Bob and Gwyn, I arrived at my next stop: an apartment on the coast in a small suburb of Sydney, called Dee Why. Yesterday an inscription in the pavement, made clear where the origin of this name is to be found. At some stage geese flew over here in a formation that looked like a D and Y… and that was it! I’ve said several times that Australian schools do stimulate creative thinking. Should I list the name Dee Why as a result of the education???

I am currently staying in an apartment, within 5 minutes walk from the coast. Seeing this coast, I am more than willing to forget about the North Sea beaches in Belgium: this wide sandy beach with very fine sand, could be a picture in a holiday magazine. It invites to go walking, absorbing the beauty of nature. The ocean stretches to the horizon with water, which is bluer than any photoshop program would ever dare to use. Not only the clarity and the colour of the water are very different to what I am used to: the waves are certainly too! Although there is barely perceptible wind, the waves raise fairly high up, before throwing themselves on the beach in a seething mass of foam. Really a surfer’s paradise: the water is teeming with black dots, between all the forces of nature. For a split second I believed I was looking at sharks, till one of them got on his surfboard in order to perform a very nice balancing act.

While my host was at work yesterday, I went out to explore: it turned out to be a relaxing walk in the sand: the sun in my face, my skin being chilled by a soft breeze. The countless coffee bars and restaurants are being frequented by hundreds of people, mothers with children are walking on the dike… Where has the hectic life, that I’ve had, gone to?

One can not change one’s personality: I still very strongly feel the need to talk to people. After my walk: I take a seat next to a lonely man, peering at the rolling waves. He appears to be an Italian (makes me wonder where all the real Aussies are, as everyone I spoke to seems to be a first generation immigrant). Some 5 years ago, he left Italy to explore the world and to find out what that big outside world had to offer.  On his trip around the world, he did fall in love with Oz.. on top of that, he found the love of his life here too. A very romantic story of which I am sure, there must be hundreds more.

On to the supermarket then, as I still love my diet of bread, bananas and yoghurt. To my big surprise the tills were not manned: it is a matter of DIY! Not all that obvious for a tourist, for whom this is a first introduction to such a system. A little peek, left and right, gives me the confidence to give it a go. Modern society this is: even the cashiers end up being replaced by a machine. It is with a wry sense that I leave this place. Will there come a day when people no longer speak to each other at all???

On returning to my residence, I passed by a school. My motto being “Nothing to lose, everything to gain”, makes me walk in. I want to inform this school that I have something to offer. Clearly enough, the friendly clerk was not expecting anything of the kind and seems to be a bit lost for words. She notes down my name and phone number with the firm promise to contact me in the next week. In a happy mood, I continue my walk back “home”

My host is a born and bred Brit, who came as an adventurous young men to Oz, some 10 years ago. Having a law degree, he ended up in a very different industry since he has build up a career as a sales manager. I don’t have the slightest doubt that he is good at what he does. Fact is that some things are the same throughout the world: one only gets forward in life if one is willing to commit for a 100 %.  Tim surely sticks to that rule: on a his free Saturday, he sits for hours at his desk, preparing for the next week.

The plan is to explore Sydney during the coming days. For the time being , this city is still the big unknown to me, as other that the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House, I have no idea what this metropolis has to offer. Having a private guide, I feel confident that I will get filled in, before departing for Brisbane.

As a bouncer, I have one remark to daily life: it seems that Aussies don’t bother to much to wash the windows. To my surprise, windows don’t open in such a way that they allow you the wash them on the outside. Staying in an apartment on the third floor means that you really need long ladder to give them a clean on the outside! And where I would never describe Aussies as vain, I have noticed that a lot of attention is being paid to ironing clothes. I guess this is something to classify under the heading “cultural differences”?

Best wishes,

Charlotte

Copyright: Charlotte Descamps 2012

Dear All,

On this occasion, the title surely doesn’t refer to the weather, as that is everything but enjoyable. As a true Belgian, who has so very often yammered of the rain, I do experience this as a lesson to stop for once and for all, the lament on what the weather gods are offering us. I am learning to look at the beauty around me, and then the lesser parts of life pale very quickly.

My new home has proved to offer me a very warm nest… referring to human warmth. I keep on struggling with the cold temperatures in which people live here. Only now, does it become clear to me that we used to heat our house far too much: you won’t find rooms with 21°C here, a modest 18°C seems to be much more realistic. Gradually, my body is becoming used to this: since a few days I walk around with a sweater less, although my toes are still protesting. Could this be the result of the fact that, for years, I have been walking on heated floors?

Glynn and Bob are very active seniors: still very dedicated working with the local scouts organisation. I reckon they have become the grandparents of many of these children. When looking at their house, I recognise a Flemish characteristic in such a way that they have extended their house several times over the years. Without a shatter of a doubt : their hall is the longest I have ever seen in a house! When their parents came to live with them, this was solved in the “Australian” way : just knock down the rear wall and build an extension. Why am I left with the impression that problems in this country are being dealt with more common sense that in our over-materialized world?

Yesterday, I had a lecture to the local RSL (Returned Service League) in the centre of Sydney. A beautiful building but of a very different nature than what I had seen in Canada. Here, everything is modern, sleek and minimalist: somehow, it lacks the charm of an old building, where the walls exude history, but nevertheless: it feels very inviting. When addressing to a group of former soldiers (as the majority of my audience proved to be) you can bet on it, that someone in the group, will have knowledge on ammunition. Right so… as an artillery officer asked me a number of questions to test how far my knowledge stretched. I am pleased to say, I passed the test as David later told me that he was quite impressed with what I had to tell on the subject.  Only one caveat that day: my remote control for my power point (which I had tested just before my presentation) went on strike and refused all service. Back to basics then: hitting the spacebar is the way to work around this problem.

Whilst the temperatures are dropping in the length of my travel, the culinary experience is going up the other way. After the presentation, a lunch was being offered in the same club: a lunch I will remember for a long time and not only because of the breathtaking view on Sydney’s Opera House. The open plan kitchen allowed us to watch how the kitchen staff was working themselves into sweat … and fire! Till today, I am convinced that the cook, of Asian origin, must have had a previous career as a fire breather. Watching flames going up more than one meter high, my inner alarm went off.. Where is the emergency exit here??? I can only hope that the fire prevention of this club was up to date as, in Belgian eyes, this was direct attempt to set the place on fire! That aside, the veal, which was served was of the finest quality I have ever tasted. A lovely closure to a wonderful day…

Dee, Bob’s daughter-in-law, acting as chauffeur today, decided to take me to the best viewing point of the city. Even having no basis of comparison, I will readily admit that it will be difficult to find something better. A place on the waterfront, with a view of the Harbour Bridge (the 2^nd largest suspension bridge in the world) and the famous Opera House. For a moment, I wonder whether there would be anyone on this planet, that would not recognise this building on a picture? Just as beautiful, although less known are the old dockyard buildings, which have been converted in exclusive apartments. If you want to become Nicole Kidman’s neighbour, you have to be assured of a fairly good bank balance though…

Up to Roseville then (the suburb where I am staying) to enjoy a relaxed evening followed by an equally relaxed night. And wonder, oh wonder, the sun is shining today! Leaves me with the question : for how long???

Later today, I will be on the move again: from Roseville to Dee Why (so strange place names are no longer an European privilege), where I will be staying the next 4 days, before moving up North to Taree. I already know that this trip will not be obvious as, believe it or not: when I tried to book my train ticket yesterday, I got a message that all trains were fully booked. How on earth  am I going to cover the distance (5 hours by train) is a bit of a miracle to me. Fact is that  I have 2 lectures in Taree… the challenge is now: how to get there??

To be continued…

Greetings

Charlotte

Copyright : Charlotte Descamps 2012

Rain and wind in Flanders, that is what I pick up over here. Not to worry, people: it is currently no better down under. It seems as if everything in Melbourne wanted to wave me out in the Belgian way: all hands on deck (for the rain gods !) was the motto.

But let me step back in time. After my lecture on Sunday afternoon, a passionate young major of the reserve army approached me with the question, whether I had been to the “Shrine of Remembrance”. On replying, that I intended to do so the following day, he immediately invited me to a private guided tour, which I have accepted with pleasure.

Monday morning progressed in an unexpected way as I was presented a private concert by my hosts. Janet, who has gone through conservatory many years ago, proves to be a gifted singer. Her husband Jim, whose strong accent keeps on stressing his Scottish roots, has a warm, deep voice, which perfectly blends in with the flawless vocals of Janet. In less than no time I was immersed in Celtic sounds: melancholic, lyrical, exciting… I ended up in a different world!

After a light lunch it was time to make a move to the centre. Jim had told me that Melbourne in the most spread out city down under and who am I  to contradict him? At least, the city keeps up the reputation for excellent public transport : tram 67 appeared right on time. The stop where I stepped onto the tram was number 62 . To get to the memorial, I had to get off at stop 19. In other words, between both stops, I had more than sufficient time to read the newspaper from back to front and… from front to back! An good hour later, I got of the tram, still being on the same side of the city as where I am staying. At that stage the opposite side of Melbourne is more than an hour away. OK, the tram may not exactly match up with a high speed train, but even then…

The impressive memorial of Melbourne is of a different nature than the War Memorial in Canberra. Only temporarily exhibitions can be organised here, there is no permanent display of artefacts other than 2 authentic VC crosses and a lot of colours of several regiments. Having said that, I learn that there are big plans to expand this building. It seems that the centennial fever is striking here too.

In case I would describe the way into town as a test for my nerves, the way out proved to be a test in the square! The wind tears unusually hard on my umbrella, which barely succeeds to keep all the downpour away from me. It seems like yesterday, that I was wondering why Australia doesn’t have any windmills. On a night like this, it soon becomes clear that wind turbines would soon prove to be a profitable investment!

Tram after tram arrives, with exception of tram nr 67… would that one have decided to call it a day before retiring into the depot? As I am about the reach the level of desperation and under cooling,  the missing tram appears. Did anyone whistle “attack”? I am firmly convinced that there must have been some secret signal, for the whole crowd pushes forward, in an almost desperate attempt to find shelter for the rain in an overcrowded wagon, ready for the long drive to home and hearth. I always tend to look for a positive note though. In this case it proved to be the opportunity for a chat with a young woman cramped in, just next to me. With an accent that was a dead give away, that she was from Eastern Europe. She told me she left Macedonia some 5 years ago, as even with an accountant degree, she couldn’t get a job. On my question “why Melbourne”, she replied that she had family here, which proved to be a big help to make the immigration process a lot easier.

More than a hour later, I was only too pleased to be in the warm living room of my host family. Dinner was served very quickly, a matter of warming up life and limb… Dinner proved to be some kind of soup, rather tick, with bread and 3 different kinds of bread spread. Soup and bread: you are on a winner with me there.

In the meantime the wind had built up even more, which would make it hard to get some sleep. In the distance a door was hitting the wall with predictable regularity, preventing me from sinking away into a deep sleep. All I can say is that I wasn’t pleased when the alarm clock woke me up, the hands of the clock pointing at 4 am. We needed 45 minutes on the highway to get to Melbourne airport. One keeps on being reminded constantly: the size of Oz is hard to grasp for a Belgian…

After a pleasant flight of about one hour, the Boeing 757 hit the tarmac of Sydney’s airport with a barely perceptible touch. Bob, my new host, who organised tomorrows lecture, was patiently waiting for me. A good fortune that he had forwarded me a very accurate description of himself: look for an egg with glassed and a beard! It soon becomes clear that Bob, must have been very good in his job at some stage. This 78 year old, decided to get a lawyers degree, after a career of a marine engineer. Four years later, he succeeded and even though he might be a bit slower now, I can assure you that his tongue and brains can easily compete in first class still! For those amongst you, who believe I am a smooth talker… I bow to the master!

Meanwhile, the weather evolves from bad to worse. Enough reason for me to sit at my laptop, typing down the story of my journey into a new future. A story, which I hope that is going to be read by people, wherever they may be…

Stormy wishes

Charlotte

Copyright : Charlotte Descamps 2012

I have surfaced again! The wonder pills, called Panadol have killed the fever to that extend that the day before yesterday, I was sufficiently recovered to start exploring Ballarat. Keeping in mind that I was still on the path to full recovery, we decided to that by car (not that one could possibly explore any Aussie city by walking anyway). From one day to the other, it dawns on my that Aussie autumns are not as mild as I had them expected to be. On the bright side: I should end up in warmer atmospheres when heading North to Brisbane, where they enjoy a more tropical climate.

I have overslept more than a bit on Thursday… When Mandy was knocking on my door, in order to check whether I was OK, I simply had no idea of time. Informing me that it was 11.30 am; well that was good enough to chase me out of bed at the speed of lightning! Clear enough the fever had taken that much energy from my body that I needed a more than 12 hour sleep to recuperate. Not a beauty sleep, rather a sleep to restore the balance in my body. This journey has been so enriching for me in a mental way… perhaps I have simply ignored my body just that little bit too much?

My restless nature is still searching for a final destination, which I haven’t found so far, although I know for a fact that I am in no way, the same person as the woman I was, when closing the door of Varlet Farm behind me, on February 2^nd, setting my first steps on an unknown path. A decision, with which I am being confronted on daily basis, since the ones at home stubbornly refuse all communication. Even so, nothing is going to withhold me from saying that I have made the right choice. Or am I right, in stating that all people are narrow minded, selfish little creatures? And I am not referring to myself on this occasion… Sure enough, I have chosen for myself. However, I didn’t do that until my children were adults. As they have reached the age to walk their own path, I am doing that too: the only difference being, that I do wish them the very best, something which they don’t grant me. Leaves me behind with the question: who is being selfish in this story…? My door will always be open, theirs remains closed.

Back to my journey… Mandy is being drawn as a magnet to her favourite restaurant: have a guess where we had our lunch today? At least, I can understand her choice: as far as I am concerned, this is by far the best restaurant I have encountered since I started my trip. Pumped up with sufficient calories to see me through the day, we started our exploration. The somewhat  faded-glory of this city is still reflected in many stately buildings. Somehow, there seems to be an imbalance between the city size  and the scale of the buildings, that  are too

 impressive to the streets. I notice that the same mistakes as in Europe are being made here too: wide boulevards, lined with beautiful Victorian architecture style, are here and there being abruptly disrupted by a more recent structure of indefinable style: a concrete box, that contrasts with the sophistication of the rest of the street. Shame that the government allows this to happen. The vision of this young country on the preservation of heritage is in urgent need for continuous training: on very regular base, authentic buildings are being knocked into the ground. Something that amazes me, knowing that Aussies are often drawn to Europe, because of its history. Don’t they realise that they will never build up a history of their own as long as traces of their existence keep on disappearing under a breaker?

Ballarat has a magnificent monument to all Australian ex-prisoners of war soldiers: an endless row of granite panels, on which thousands of names have been engraved. Names that symbolize the unspeakable suffering humanity can bring about. The memorial is connected to a sophisticated water system, revealing a lot of symbolism. This country surely doesn’t lack creativity. I wonder whether their school system plays a part in that?

From there on we went to a building to commemorate the Great war. Mandy lovingly describes it as their own “Menin Gate”…with some imagination, I see the logic behind it. One of the panels, placed here in the early 1920’s, makes immediately clear how far away we are from European mainland. Under the heading “France” , I see the names of Polygon Wood, Zonnebeke and Broodseinde appearing. No reference to Belgium though!

Right behind the gate lies the majestic “Avenue of honour” : a 22 km long perpendicular avenue that stretches itself endlessly. Along this boulevard appear, to this day, 3332 trees (there were originally 3771 but here too, modern society has created some damage). In front of every tree, I spot a small plate with name and rank of a soldier, who many years ago, signed his enlisting papers full of courage, ready to walk to the big adventure. Only to discover soon after that the adventure they ended up in, proved to be of a very different nature than what they anticipated.

Our ride continues for miles along a vast lake. I can barely believe my ears, when Mandy tells me that, only a few years ago, this was a dry plain. This part of Australia had gone through a drought of 10 years, so water became extremely scarce. The endless lake, which now extends itself in front of me, reveals for fickle nature can be down under.

The late autumn sun is not as such to convince anyone to stay outdoors for long. At 5 pm, we are safely back home, on the mat in front of the stove, to enjoy the radiant heat. This house offers, as many other Australian houses,  very little protection against the cold. It keeps on amazing me that nothing is being done to prevent the cold from getting in.  While we are enjoying “The English Patient”, all of a sudden, the quiet evening is being disturbed by a tremendous thud. Not to worry: it proves to be possums, falling out of a tree. Their landing resounds through the house. The next phase is a bustle of many feet, to and fro, which makes clear to me that the little sweeties are trying to get away.

Saturday, and that means once more: time to say goodbye. I will always be grateful for all the good care Mandy has given me: a private nurse, that far away from your home country, not everyone has as much luck as I had! The train brings me, without any problems, back to Melbourne, where I have a lecture for the “Historical Society” in the afternoon. First and foremost, I get to my new hosts for the next 2 days. It turns out to be a beautiful home in Carnegie, a suburb of Melbourne. From there we depart for the local bowling club in Oakleigh where the meeting is set to take place. My audience consist of a group of 60 people, all with a very strong interest in the history of the Great War. Some of them have driven a long distance to attend the lecture… this is not Belgium, o no.. no one would drive more than 1.30 hours to attend an event like this!  A relaxing atmosphere, a smooth lecture with a very satisfied audience, organisers radiating with pride… in other words: my day can not go wrong anymore!

Janet and Jim, my new hosts are the very first Aussies I meet, who are so well aware of the environment and the need to protect it. They proudly tell me that they have installed solar panels for the production of electricity as well as to supply them with hot water. Moreover, they drive a hybrid car, which charms me especially because of the silence , no roaring engine to be heard!. The only lack I notice, is double glazing. Apart from that this couple thinks very “green”, something which I have barely encountered in Oz , so far.

Both of them are very enthusiastic musicians: wherever I look, there are instruments to be seen. Jim , a native Scot (and no way he could ever hide that : after 2 words I realise that his accent hasn’t faded in the 40 years he has been living here!) proves to be a gifted cook too, however tonight it is Janet that works away in the kitchen. She offers a delicious meal : lamb (cooked as I hope to be do it as well one day…) , a bunch of vegetable and  -thank God- no rice but potatoes instead. It proves to be a lovely evening, in the company of Helen and Michael, who have joined in. Many aspects of life are being discussed… even Belgian politics!

This morning is reserved for updating my blogs: the Dutch one, being more or less up to date, the English one, on the other hand, is constantly lagging behind. Never had I imagined that so much time was going to be invested in writing. No complains to be heard though:… in a comfortable seat, in front of a fireplace, I do realise that life is not all that bad after all!

Warm wishes,

Charlotte

Copyright : Charlotte Descamps 2012