A Tale of Two Springfields

So the title is a little random here - I was thinking about the two cities I am about to cover here, and from nowhere at all this title of a great old episode of The Simpsons sprang to my mind. Given how different my experiences were in Canberra and Melbourne (which I revisited), it certainly seems apt. 

After spending a fair few days in a rain-sodden Sydney doing, on the whole, very little, I decided to take action and head down to Canberra; it's not reputed to be the most riveting place in the world, but if one has the time, one might as well go see the capital of this continent-country. 

My generally none-too-high expectations for Canberra were, however, did not prepare me for the dreary reality. The place is basically a bunch of giant, often unsightly, concrete creations separated by cumbersome distances and connected by empty superhighways, with the empty spaces in between filled with what could be lovely parks but what are ultimately just vast expanses of dull, unplanned lawns and scrub (see below - both photos are taken right in the city "centre"). I'm a little loathe to paint such a bleak picture of any one place, but within a day and a half or so I had had thoroughly enough of Canberra. Getting anywhere is an enormous faff (which, to some extent, is of course my own fault for coming to a country this size without a driver's license), but that's no excuse for the complete absence of any character or soul or, for that matter, life. 

The one good thing I will say about Canberra is that the Parliament building does look cool, integrated as it is into a large hill. It's just that the rest of the city feels like a sort of motorway rest station catering to the Parliament, which for inexplicable reasons was put in the middle of nowhere. It's a beautiful example of a compromise benefitting nobody, as the only real reason for Canberra's existence is Sydney and Melbourne squabbling over which should be the country's capital. 

Clearly whoever planned Canberra lacked a thorough understanding of the complex intricacies of Basketball...and of sports courts in general, as this one was completely fenced in and there was no door.

It comes as no surprise, then, that I was glad to see the back of Canberra and make my way, for a second time, to Melbourne - the joys of a rail pass and infinite free train journeys! This turned out to be an excellent decision, although you wouldn't have known after my first night at the hostel I checked into. Nestled snugly between two train stations it was never going to be a quiet night, but the guy on the bunk below me returning completely drunk at 4am with a lady conquest and having (or attempting to have...?) sex for some 3 hours took levels of general discomfort to a whole new level. The muttered German sentence fragments drifting up from below were nothing short of depressing at times (the girl said "it's too small" several times - I struggle to conceive of any sexual situation where that might be good for the guy), and the squeaky rocking of the bed was not much of a lullaby, either. 

The next day, however, I got home to a very hungover, contrite and thoroughly apologetic bunkmate who actually turned out to be a good guy; with him and 4 others we spent the evening drinking cider (they had actual Bulmers, which is about the best that can be hoped for here) at an Irish Pub. On our way back the buskers lining the streets - which were still teeming at midnight as it was Chinese New Year - were nothing short of fantastic. They included a guy with a telescope trained on Jupiter, which thoroughly blew my mind, and someone in a penguin suit playing the bagpipes which is not easy to top in terms of sheer randomness. 

The hard at Melbourne's central rowing clubs. Not bad for a backdrop!

You know you have it good when palm trees grow where you row. Bit of a contrast to hearing of windswept -10C outings in Ely from Helena...

More importantly, earlier that day I had been for a run. This is not unusual in itself, but the halfway point happened to be at a place called Power House Rowing Club, and this also happened to be where I suddenly needed the loo something fierce. The girl outside the club turned out to be their captain, Caitlin, who kindly let me use their facilities. We chatted for a bit (I'm not one to forgo the possibility of rowing chat) and one of the club's men squad joined us. Nick turned out to be an HRR semi-finalist and they invited me along to the next day's squad session; I don't think I've ever accepted an invitation quite so gratefully. 

And so it was that I found myself in a shiny new pair, going for a pretty good sightseeing paddle down the Yarra - and subbing into a couple of the club's crews at the Ballarat Regatta the next day. This was a fun, laid-back affair, the equivalent maybe of St Neots Regatta or something along those lines, and I raced in a novice 4+ and an IM3 4+ (or thereabouts). Incidentally, we won both races, and I am now a proud owner of 2 Australian rowing medals and a new one-piece. It was the best possible way to spend my last day in Melbourne, and a thorough pleasure to fully immerse myself in all that we love (and love to hate) about the rowing world, including the terrible chat, the faff, blisters, scratch crews and dodgy rolling starts in awful conditions. Thanks again to all of PHRC! 

The winning Nov4+: Pav, Marcus, Tara, myself and Brad

Closer action in IM3 4+; also me stroking my first ever non-small boat!

Winning IM3 4+: Ross (I think?), Nathan, Dave, Caitlin and yours truly

In other vaguely cool news, I have now rowed on three Olympic rowing lakes: Melbourne 1956, Moscow 1980 and London 2012. 

And suddenly I find myself just a few hours shy of leaving Australia for New Zealand, where I will attain the furthest distance from Europe at 19-odd thousand kilometres. I am planning several sweet hikes which will hopefully result in some more exciting photos, so stay tuned!

Heading Down Under

Noms everywhere!

Sitting in a monsoon-ridden hostel on the normally gorgeous Queensland coast which has been transformed into a grey uniformity where it is impossible to not get soaked within 5 steps, this seems like a good time to get stuck into a bit of writing about the land Down Under. Having spent a lovely Christmas in England I was rather keen to spend at least a few more days there, but it seems a bit silly to complain about getting the chance to go travel more. And indeed, arriving in Sydney after 60 hours on 4 different planes (London-Dubai-Chennai-Singapore-Sydney), tired and exceedingly jetlagged, I couldn't help smiling: I fell in love with this place when I was last here in 2005, and memories abounded. It is as gorgeous as ever, with its crystalline blue bays, pristine beaches and smatterings of vivid green everywhere. It is also an absolute paradise for road cyclists - lots and lots of hills, perfectly paved roads, plenty of cycling paths and not too much traffic outside the city centre made me very sad to have left my bike in London (although, it appears, in capable hands!). 

On the last hilly outcrop before the ocean, looking into the harbour - it's a big city...

Standard life in Sydney. The number of pleasure craft of all kinds here is incredible!

 It is also, unfortunately, an almost unbelievably expensive city, the pinnacle of a phenomenally expensive country; I hadn't been ready for this and have been leading a rather frugal life these last few weeks, but on the upside this has meant unprecedented quantities of fruit and a generally healthy-ish life. Drinking is practically unaffordable (5 pounds and up for a beer, which comes in half-pint measures put me off that quickly), and so I managed to keep up a pretty tight running regime in Sydney. My aunt and uncle very kindly put me up in their stunner of a house which is just up a big hill from Bondi Beach, making for a very convenient and photogenic 9k circuit with mats for bodyweight circuits along the way. 

Bondi on a windy day - though no conditions or time of day seems to stop the incredibly fit Sydneysiders who populate this beach from going for their runs. Apparently, this includes New Year's Eve at 8pm (yes, I was out as well...).

That said, I did go out in Sydney with a friend of my uncle's daughters - this turned into a fairly random and fun evening as we ended up in a gay club. Having never been to one before, it subscribed to all the cliches - many sweaty men in various states of undress, a lot more fairly intense grinding than I've seen in most other clubs, and a *lot* of me getting groped and having to clarify that I am, in fact, straight. Still, there was a decent sound system and bass-heavy music, so even though it wasn't as fast as I'd normally choose we danced away happily enough. 

On the whole, though, the prohibitive prices of practically everything in Australia - coupled with my recent larger investments - have meant that most of my time has been spent wandering around various cities. In Sydney, this took me to the fish markets (and some oysters, made tasty by the bacon and cheese on top of them), and to various corners of the city accessible by ferry. To be perfectly honest, though, I would have been a very happy man just sitting on the ferries, looking around - that's how pleasant the place is.  

Bridge climbers on top of the Harbour Bridge. Now a guided tour...

A few cool-looking sailboats came in looking like they are racers - someone who knows anything about sailing might know more, though!

New Year's Eve, of course, was every bit as spectacular as the annual news photos make it appear. The fireworks here were absolutely huge, putting to shame the John's May Ball fireworks which had been my previous benchmark. I watched them from the balcony instead of braving the crowds jostling for position in every free spot around Sydney Harbour from midmorning onwards, and was rewarded with some fairly sweet shots (and some tasty food!). 

Early in the new year, I headed out to Melbourne on a night train. I was less impressed with the place last time I was here, but this turned out unjustified - apart from the two days I was out of action with (man)flu, I had a lovely time clocking some miles around town in my trusty Olympics-uniform trainers. It's full of really cool public spaces, parks and places to eat (although I can't afford any of the latter, supermarkets & cooking is the way forward!), and comes across as more laid back and less formal than Sydney. This made it thoroughly enjoyable to just wander around and get lost, only to find my way back home sometime in the evening. 

This screen shows what's going on right in front of it - my touristy self on the left side.

Melbourne Museum - I sought refuge from the 43C heatwave here, and found a really quite pleasant museum!

St Kilda's beach, swarming with kitesurfers - how I miss these blue skies!

Sadly, I didn't get the chance to look around the Rod Laver Arena as the place was in lockdown for a pre-Australian Open security sweep (flashback to working at Eton Dorney!). I'm starting to realise, though, that a big part of what there is to see in Australia is the wildlife. In the cities, this consists mostly of the obligatory botanical gardens, and of the possums that seem to swarm the numerous parks once darkness falls: they're adorably inept, but constantly hungry and very used to human attention. 

A possum, more intimidating with red-eye...

...and the anti-possum measures on old trees which would otherwise be climbed and eaten by the critters.

And a taster of desert vegetation!

Oh, and maybe most importantly - Melbourne's boathouses! I came across these right by the city centre and started missing rowing even more than usual immediately. Sadly, nobody seemed to be about - I would probably have gone up to them to see if anyone needed a random sub...

Melbournites teasing me with their shiny boats...

Anyway, more soon - will do my best to keep these posts reasonably short and snappy and well-supplied with photos instead of rambling on and on!