Nice Toys

On a flight from Sydney to Hobart I shared a row with two other passengers. While I occupied the aisle seat, a Chinese student returning for university studies in Hobart occupied the middle seat and an unaccompanied boy, about eight-years old, was in the window seat. The flight attendants checked on him several times prior to takeoff, asking if he needed anything. He expressed the hope that he could have an iPad so that he could watch “shows” during the flight. During the flight, one of the attendants gently scolded him for not eating his apples because, “they are good for you.” The student kindly asked about the rather large stuffed border collie that occupied most of his legroom space. The student duly studied it very carefully, graciously commenting on how nice it was, to which the boy replied: “Every time we get toys, I always get the most expensive one. My mom says that I have expensive taste.”

Matthew Flinders and His Cat

Lucie ready for a picnic

The arrival of three kittens in our household this past spring has altered our lives: it has changed routines, conversations and, perhaps, improved our moods. While spending time with our clowder, not a day goes by without a laugh or a chuckle generated from out furry ersatz children. Lately our conversations have focused on the prospect of Lucie, Pip and Coco traveling as they get older. Will they join us on vacation? How will we arrange the car when they travel? What destinations would be feline-friendly? To that end, we have begun to introduce evening excursions around town. Upon returning, the kittens are praised for their bravery and limited vocal complaints emanating from the backseat. We assure ourselves that they will be good at traveling. 

The Statue of Trim at the State Library of New South Wales

The clowder appears to be off to a good start, but no matter how well the three do, it is doubtful that they will ever that they will ever travel even ten percent of the distances covered by Flinders’s cat. Trim is memorialized with a statue on Macquarie Street at the State Library of New South Wales in Sydney. He accompanied his human, Matthew Flinders on an exploration from Britain to Australia, and then in a survey of the continent. Flinders was the first to refer to Australia as a continent and his subsequent book and atlas were lauded.  His story is interesting as well, but a statue of a cat, among the pantheon or monuments of colonial leaders in Australia’s largest city, draws interest and imagination. 

Flinders with Trim in the background

Flinders wrote a loving tribute to his feline companion upon his death, which is recorded on a plaque at the library: “The best and most illustrious of his race. The most affectionate of friends, faithful of servants, and best of creatures. He made the tour of the globe, and a voyage to Australia, which he circumnavigated, and was ever the delightful and pleasure of his fellow voyagers.” 

Even after just a few months, we have grown completely smitten with LPC. As I write this, they are less than six months old; their curiosity knows no bounds, and they are hardly the picture of a calm demeanor and stateliness that are often associated with cats. Nevertheless, Trim is an example of why we value cats in our lives. They are good companions, wanting to share our home and time, they make us laugh, and the reciprocate our affection with theirs.

Paw prints on the railing leading to Trim's location

Translating English (Part 4)

I was having dinner in Paisley sitting next to an elderly Australian couple making plans for the following day. She was spending the trip researching ancestry in Scotland and told the server that her family had emigrated from Scotland in the 1930s. Now she was working on her husband’s family. Later, after not paying attention for quite a while, I noticed that the man was trying to teach his wife how to say “American,” with an American accent: uh-mur-a-cun. She was trying to make the E a long E and could not quite get the hang of it.

Noticing History in Hobart

One of the great benefits of touring a destination where you know several people is that they are familiarly with all the shortcuts and have great insights. It is difficult to make any definitive statements about Hobart given the limited amount of time I spent in the city; however, my impression is of a city rich in history and interests. As is my habit, I noticed many of the smaller historical sites that tell a rich and complex tale of a city, its people and Tasmania.

The one destination that I considered imperative was a visit to the gates of the Beaumaris Zoo. Much like the Berlin Zoo, which I visited earlier this year, it is a place where the folly of humans has had is duly recorded. The zoo, which has been closed for more than 75 years, was the site of interesting stories, such as the attempted escape of a polar bear in 1926. More importantly, Beaumaris Zoo was the location where the last known thylacine died in 1936. More popularly know as Tasmanian Tigers, thylacines were intriguing animals that were drove into extinction. Although there are rumors and hope that there are a few thylacines wondering around the wilds of Tasmania, there is very little good evidence to suggest this is the case. The zoo closed the year following the death of the last thylacine.  

Another tragic event, commemorated high above the city on trails of Mt. Wellington (kunanyi), is the fate of George Radford. Competing in a “go-as-you-please” race to the pinnacle, and return, in September 1903. Radford was caught in snowstorm and perished. Today, a walking and mountain bike trail that meanders through a fern forest is named in his honor. As I walked the trail through the forest, the knowledge that Charles Darwin also walked the same mountain in 1836 gave me much to think about as well.

On a much less somber note, the monuments and signage on docks of Hobart demonstrates the city has several connections with the rest of the world despite its remoteness. This is particularly true of the signing remembering the Jam Factory of Henry Jones. In many ways, the business ethics and manners mirrored the practices of many of Jones’s contemporary. He was very successful and his company’s effort meant that fruit grown in Tasmania, turned into jams and pulp, were consumed around the world. Yet, his treatment of workers were questionable and reflects many of the excesses of the industrial period. Along Hunter Street sits the remains of the factory, now repurposed. His product named, IXL, referred to his personal statement: “I excel at everything I do.” Yet despite his bravado, Jones’s treatment of workers and questionable business practices are remembered at the docks as well. 

Experiencing Hobart

Traveling is often not about a destination; in fact, it may be the least important part of a journey.  What is far more important are the experiences and interactions we have along the way. More so than many of my trips, the interactions in Hobart were significant and personal. While there are several significant sites seen and observed, these are not what will remain in my memory. Instead, spending time in suburban homes, enjoying good meals and better conversations, having a go at backyard cricket, and sitting at cafés and restaurants talking, laughing and sharing stories will be my primary memories. It was not my intent to travel to Tasmania to hold a four-day old baby, but how lucky am I to have that among my catalog of experiences? When I reread this brief entry in the future, it will help me to remember a conversation in which a five-year old friend described the intricacies his new Christmas toy, a Gup X, based upon the children’s television series The Octonauts. His fascinated cousins looked on as he described all the sea creatures that could be rescued by the Gup X vehicle.

Traveling and meeting new people turn mundane events into fond memories and important experiences. Our lives are richer because of them. 

Christmas in Melbourne

Traveling is always provides a sense of dislocation. This is why, perhaps, I like it. We experience something new and different; it is a challenge to understand a new city, different ways of doing things, and translating cultures. Granted that my current trip does not require much in the way of translating language, although there has been a few times when I have asked people to repeat themselves. Nevertheless, travel insists that we examine our own lives, actions and customs, focusing on why we do the things we do.

On a flight from Auckland to Melbourne, on Christmas morning, I was seated on the front row of the aircraft. During take-off and landing this provided an opportunity for me and my fellow passengers to chat with two flight attendants. I commiserated with them on having to work on Christmas; although I did not say this, there were a many of holidays I had to work. The woman from Auckland seated next to me was on her way to Hobart for Christmas with her sister. She asked about my plans and I said that I would be exploring Melbourne. She made some comment about being alone on Christmas, to which I replied, “from my perspective, it doesn't much seem like Christmas.” She commented, “There is no snow, is there?”

It's a Wonderful Life shown on the big
screen in Federation Square, Melbourne

When I arrived in Melbourne I happened upon an article by Jason Wilson, who wrote about how European Christmas traditions made the holiday in Australia surreal.  Walking the city, in perfect 70˚ (F) and sunny weather, was an odd feeling. Santa Claus and snowmen are found throughout the city. Young men and women were wearing red Santa suits with matching caps throughout my travels over the past 48 hours. The most incongruous thing I saw was a group of people watching It’s a Wonderful Life on a big screen television in Federation Square in the city center of Melbourne. The thought of people sitting in summer attire, beneath shade umbrellas, watching the classic film about Christmas avarice and the importance of friendship and family in snowing Bedford Falls was a bit odd. 

Flinder Station, Melbourne

I continued with my own cinematic Christmas tradition. Much like the Parker family in A Christmas Story, I had my Christmas dinner out at a Chinese restaurant. My meal consisted of pork bone soup and steamed pork and wombok dumplings at a traditional restaurant. My dinner at a Chinese restaurant, however, was not necessitated by a pack of wild dogs stealing my turkey. 

Centre Square, Rotorua