Rosemary in Australia

Rosemary's Ramblings in June 2013

The wedding of my granddaughter Marion Petty to Jordan Fox was on 7th June.  I was excited to be able to attend, thanks to Mark who offered to pick me up at Sydney airport and take charge of me until he handed me over to Nathan.  I am indeed blessed in my sons.  On the day before the wedding, Mark flew from Christchurch and I flew from Auckland, both arriving in Sydney at the scheduled time of 8.30am. I had left home at 2.00am, Mark a couple of hours later. We picked up Mark's rental car at the airport, and set off to do the tourist thing in Sydney, a place new to both of us.  I had flown into Sydney in 1988 for Nathan's wedding, and I had seen the Harbour Bridge from the plane as it came in to land.  After landing, as I made my way by bus to the train station, I had glimpsed the Opera House.  I had taken the underground train to Carlingford.   By the time my train emerged on to the surface of the earth, dusk had fallen so I could not really say I had seen Sydney.

I was happy to go wherever Mark wanted. Mark had more or less memorized the major routes through Sydney from the map, and programmed the GPS accordingly. Bondi Beach was the first objective. The day was overcast, which was just as well, as the atmosphere seemed warm and humid to us, coming from the cold snap that had recently hit New Zealand.  Bondi Beach, renowned in film and literature, was much smaller than we had imagined.  We walked to the end in about 10 or 15 minutes, and back along the esplanade in much the same length of time.  Looking back from the other end, we realized the beach was longer than we had thought.

Following that we made our way to the harbour (unless I have forgotten something, which I suspect I may have).  We parked a few streets away from the waterfront and walked down to, and across open public ground as we approached the ferry terminal.   We were fortunate in that the ferry was just coming in.  We stepped on board and were soon away up the harbour.  We went out to the open deck at the bow and looked all around.  I was surprised there was so much high ground, a bit like Wellington.  It was exciting to see the harbour bridge and the opera house from the ferry.

At the main terminal where we disembarked, we found out why we had not had to pay to get on the ferry.  We had to have a ticket to get out of the building. Mark figured it all out and got return tickets from a machine with his eftpos card.  By this time we were looking for somewhere to eat. 

There was an iconic sea-food shack right on the waterfront.  The prices were high and I do not like sea food except fish, so we walked away and across the wide area of the street to “Wolfies”, another restaurant that looked expensive but more to our taste.  It was sort of half open to the wharf.  Here we were well-served and did not have to wait too long either.  Mark ordered a steak and declared it was the best he had ever tasted.  I had beer-battered fish with chips and a salad.

Then we set off towards the bridge, which was almost overhead.  Mark had looked into walking over the top of the bridge, but it was far too expensive and the tour took too long.  $270 dollars each for a 2½ hour tour.  I did not really want to do that anyway, I thought I might not be able to climb the structure and I certainly would have begrudged the money.  We wandered around and farther up the street found the access to one of the towers that stand two at either end of the bridge. Mark remarked we could see almost as much from there as from the bridge.  We could see the way over the bridge.  Mark said it was not as scary as it looked from below.  True, but still steep.  People going over had to wear special clothing provided so as not to be conspicuous to motorists on the bridge and thus distract them.  We could see them from our vantage point.  We left the tower and continued our exploration of this part of Sydney.

Mark knew what he wanted to see, and had a fair idea of how to get there, but in the older part of town near the bridge we hit a few blind alleys amongst the narrow streets that were often but not always connected by flights of steps.  So we back-tracked a few times.   The deep canyons of streets in the city were overwhelming to me, and it was  beginning to rain, which darkened the day.  I had absolutely no idea where we were or in which direction we were going.

One of the places Mark was looking for was the Lindt chocolate shop.  I was so glad when he found it.  I was just about walked out!  While Mark bought hot chocolate for us, I went to sit at one of the tables under large brown umbrellas out on the closed-to-traffic street.  I found a table with a spare chair on which to put up my weary feet.  The rest and the delicious hot chocolate revived me, and I happily followed Mark through street after street until he found the State Theatre, the ornate foyer of which he wanted to see, and the Strand.  This latter was an amazing arcade of shops that had been there since the mid 1800s.                                                                                                              

Both of us wanted to see the Opera House and found a way there through the grounds of what had been, and maybe still was, Government House.  It was growing dusk, and the guard was just about to lock the gate as we went through out on to an area of grass sloping down to the harbour.  There was a grand photo opportunity to take the harbour bridge against the last light.  Mark, lying on the ground took clever shots with his good camera.  I took one with my little Pentax.  It would have been good had I got it in focus! 

So by devious lanes and steps we came to the Opera House.  We are impressed by the building from this side. One does not see it this way from the harbour.   The acres of steps give it a clean, serene and pleasing look.  We walked up to it, and discovered the lightweight-looking wings of the roof were very solid, constructed in some sort of mosaic.  We went inside an upper part and looked around some of areas adjacent to the booking office, souvenir shops etc., which were closed at this time of night. Somewhere at this point Mark noticed that he had lost his glasses from his breast pocket when taking his photos of the bridge from the grass near Government House. Rather than return to look for them in the dark, Mark decided to drive back in first thing in the morning.

We wandered outside on the harbour side of the Opera House, then  made our way around to the wharf, but waited until the lighting display came on at 6.00pm before catching a ferry back across the harbour. We saw the really amazing projection of lights and designs against the Opera House. During the 20 minutes or so that we watched there was no repetition.  I wondered if it continued to display different images until it stopped at 10 pm.  Some of the high buildings around the harbour had their own small version of decorative lighting. We hurried back to catch the next ferry.

Thanks to Mark's orientation skills, we found the way back to the car.  We decided it would be the done thing to drive through the infamous King's Cross.  This early in the evening it looked just like any normal street.  The next challenge for Mark was to find the way out of town to Carlingford.  I was no help, I slept.  He got off track a bit.  When I woke up he had stopped to look at a map in a service station forecourt.  We got to Carlingford, we found the temple, but not the temple motel. After driving round in vain, Mark found someone to ask.

It was a short – by car – distance down the road.  We found it, but could not find anyone to show us to our unit.  Mark did some phoning, and the custodian appeared from somewhere.  We settled into our two-bed room and then went out looking for food.  We found a Woolworths open and bought stuff for breakfast.  We then went to a 7 Eleven and bought snacks for our dinner.   We had not discovered at that point that there was no soap in the unit.  I was pretty sure I had brought some, but could not find it!  Dylan came knocking at our door, so we knew the Melbourne contingent had arrived safely.  They had come from Canberra that day.  The Foxes were there too.

Friday 7th June

Mark went back to the city and found his glasses.  He had first been across the road to a petrol station and bought some soap.  So while he was gone I showered and had my breakfast.  I stripped the beds as directed and remade them without sheets and pillowcases, just as we had found them and as directed by the instruction sheet in the unit.  We were supposed to clean the unit thoroughly, but I just did the dishes and vacuumed.  We had not made any mess.   Nathan and Vern came around, and we set off for the temple.  Mark and I had a wait to pay for our unit and were concerned about being late for the sealing.  We need not have worried, we were shown into a waiting room where a lot of the Fox family were gathered.  Then we were all shepherded to the sealing room.

It was a small room and there were 23 present.  Nathan and Vernice, Ellen and Dylan were in there when Mark and I made the total of the Petty family to six as we waited for the bride and groom.  It was a moving ceremony.  The sealer was a Dutch member of the temple presidency.  His accented English added to the solemnity and serenity of the occasion.  Marion was beautiful.  Jordan shed a silent tear, while Marion was dabbing her mascara with a tissue all the way through the solemn sealing.  The president managed to get some humour into his excellent talk to the young couple. 

Ceremony over, the guests were hurried out.  Mark and I milled around outside with the others while waiting the appearance of the bride and groom.  Many photos were taken.  Ellen and Carmen were beautiful bridesmaids, both with blonde hair on this occasion.  Beautiful also the third bridesmaid, Marion's friend  the brunette Jaeger Nicholls.                                                                     

It was not until later that I sorted out some of the Fox family.  Jordan's mother is Marama Smith Fox. Alice Smith is Marama's mother.  She said she knew me, but I could not remember meeting her.  It was probably at CCNZ.  Some of her children were there with some of mine.  Cerian has since told me that Marama was her roommate for a while, and she knew her sister Terry.  Another of the Smith children, Ra, I vaguely knew at Christchurch when I used to stay there often.

Mahli Howe, Marion's cousin, was married the previous week to Jareth Fox, Jordan's brother. Mahli is the daughter of Mark Howe and Nicola Abel.  The senior Foxes came over from New Zealand for both weddings on the one trip.   The children of Sam and Marama Fox are the three brothers, Jordan, Jareth and Ririwai, all now married, a son Whatahoro aged 18, and four little sisters. 

Mark and I, being time-conscious Pakehas, were anxious to move on.  Nathan was chivvying his gang along too.  The wedding reception was a Canberra, many kilometres away, at 5 pm that same afternoon.  The freeway avoids all towns, which makes for quicker travel, but can get a bit tedious.  We took an  exit to Campbelltown, not because we knew anything about it, but because we wanted lunch.  There are occasional rest stops just off the freeway, with eating places and petrol stations, but we did not come across any when we needed one.  Campbelltown turned out to be an interesting old town.  The main street (if it was the main street) was not only narrow but crooked.  We passed old places, shops and cafés but none where we could park.  Finally we came to a slighter newer part and stopped at the Subway.  There was a long and noisy waiting line.  Mark felt conspicuous in a suit with the kind of clientele there!  We took our food to an outside seat and enjoyed the sunshine.  Mark finished eating first and went to look at some shop that interested him, and also bought himself a sticky dessert.

Back on the long road, our next and only other stop was at a 'Driver Reviver'.  A wonderful institution!  This was a temporary one, set up in a public park, possibly because it was Queen's birthday weekend in Australia.  A van dispensed drinks and biscuits. Mark and I had hot chocolate.  It was not particularly chocolaty, but it was wonderfully hot.  The air out there was incredibly cold after Sydney!  We were travelling south and gaining elevation.  There was a permanent refreshment stop with fast food outlets and coffee shops a few kilometres farther along the freeway.  I thought the owners there might take exception to the free Reviver service, but Mark pointed out that those who stopped at the Reviver were not the type who would patronize the other places.                                         

It was interesting to come into Canberra.  The outskirts were not prepossessing, but the real city, or rather its satellite towns, were open, tree-lined and attractive.  Mark had no difficulty, with the aid of the GPS thing, to find the Best Western Garden City Motel.  More a hotel than a motel.  Janet was staying there.  She had arranged that I could pick up at the desk a key to her room.  I did this, but did not need it, as Janet was in.  Mark and I went up and knocked at Janet's door.  I was to stay with Janet.  Mark had booked at another motel.  He had balked at the price of this one, and later said his was older but nicer!  Janet was suffering with an abscessed tooth and a sore and slightly swollen cheek. To her it felt grossly swollen. She was suffering also with nausea from the medication she was taking.  Not a pleasant weekend for her.

With Janet we drove to the chapel where the reception was held.  Although there were welcoming decorations at the entrance from the car-park, the door was locked.  It took some time to find a way in that was open.  We finally went through the door the caterers were using.  We were directed into the recreation hall which was utterly transformed.  It was ceiled – I mean it had a false ceiling – of white drapery. The walls were white-draped. It was painstakingly, carefully and tastefully decorated.  Two long tables ran down both sides of the hall, while the 'bridal party' table was set on the stage.  This was brilliantly lit, while the body of the hall was subdued.

Mark, Janet and I were led to a seat with our backs to the wall near the front.  We had each other to talk to when no one else drifted our way to visit with us. The time passed pleasantly. There was music stuff going on, at least at intervals.  The bridal party was supposed to arrived at 5.30, but were an hour late, due to the photographer being late for their photographic session by the lake. 

When they did arrive, they came in choreographed style, a groomsman danced in with a bridesmaid, then the second pair and then the third.  Finally the bride and groom.  Marion is a natural dancer, Jordan looked a bit out of his depth, but he played the game valiantly. They were welcomed in.  Dinner was served. The high table had theirs brought to them, and so, as very senior grandmother, did I!  The rest walked up with their plates to the caterers' table where they were served their food.

There were speeches and dances and songs. The father and mother of the bride and the mother and father of the groom spoke, as did others who were called upon, including Charlie Abel just from his mission.  Dylan read an email from Calvin.  There was a haka. I am confused in memory about all this, so I had Ray print out from her email to Calvin, Vernice's version of it all for my journal.  When the noisy free-for-all dancing began,  Mark, Janet and I departed.  Mark dropped Janet and me off, arranging to pick us up in the morning for a tour around town.   When the party was finally over, Vernice, Nathan and others worked until 2 am to clear up the hall.

Saturday 8th June

It was a beautiful day, though cold at first.  The first tourist attraction was the War Memorial Museum.  We entered one of the galleries of memorial plaques and poppies.  I was astounded at the number of Australians killed in the two World Wars.  The thought of the waste of life was overwhelming.  As Ray would say, the dead were the lucky ones.  Their families and the wounded survivors were the true casualties.  I was ambivalent about the whole museum,  but marvelled at the meticulous effort that had gone into creating it.  Some parts brought back memories too close for comfort even for me, who had lived only on the very perimeter of the second world war.

I was happy to emerge an hour or two later, though I had not seen the half of it. Every once in a while inside I had met up with Mark, doing his own wandering.  When he suggested leaving, that was fine with me.  Mark had to collect his bag from the lobby desk.  Bags are not allowed!  Janet had not come in, preferring to sit outside in the sunshine and read her book.

Next we drove up Ainsley Hill, behind the Museum.  It would have been nice to climb it, although it would have been steep, but Janet was in no condition to do that.   From the hill we could look out over the city and I could get myself orientated.  Mark with his remarkable talent already more or less had the layout in his mind. In the mid-distance we saw Parliament House.  That was our next tourist destination.

We were hoping to find somewhere to have lunch on the way, but passed nowhere to eat. To get into Parliament House we had to go through a security check like those at airports.  From the imposing  but not particularly attractive atrium we walked up to the Queen's Terrace Café on the second floor.  This was a dual purpose café.  One could sit at a table and order from an expensive menu, or one could line up at the cafeteria counter and chose from the display cases.  We did the latter. After lunch  we wandered around the luxurious complex.  To me it seemed a great show place, built at the tax-payers' expense.  Mark pointed out that this was the capital, and here the government entertained and impressed world leaders. I got myself lost several times.  I looked down into the great hall.  This day it was set for a banquet.  From the respective visitors' galleries I looked into the green furnished House of Representatives and into the dusky-pink furnished Senate chamber.  From the glassed-in walkways to these wings, one looked down on enclosed courtyards with grass, trees and flowerbeds.   Mark and I finally found the way to get on to the roof while Janet sat in the sun on the steps by the pond outside. 

Afterwards Mark drove around a few streets looking at the Embassies.  The New Zealand Consulate was the poor cousin, and seemed to thumb its nose at its palatial neighbours by having corrugated iron cows on the lawn!  The last place we went was up Black Mountain.  On this was built the Telstra Tower.  Janet stayed in the car while Mark and I went up into the tower.  We wandered around an encircling balcony and took photographs.

It was dark as we drove back to the city.  Somewhere along the line Nathan had phoned Mark and we agreed to meet with him and Vern back at the hotel carpark, then go out to dinner.  That was a comedy.  The first idea was to go to the German Harmonie Club just across from the hotel.  They allow visitors if not too full of members.  We got ourselves registered as visitors, then found the dining room was fully booked, so we trooped out again, walked back to the hotel and drove into Woden in one of the cars. 

The first couple of eating places we looked into were also full.  One was The Hog's Breath.  It was noisy and I was glad we could not eat there.  The next was a Thai place, which I thought would be a novel experience, but that too was full.  Vernice knew of some area less popular, and we ended up at Nandos, which was not at all full.  Nathan bought my dinner.  I sat at the table while the others went to order.  A back-country sort of place.  Good food. I liked the place, and was glad we had failed to get in the other places.  We sat a long time together around our corner table.

Back at the hotel, we showed Nathan and Vern our room, said goodbye to Mark, who would leave in the morning to drive back to Sydney by another route, and goodnight to Nathan and Vern.  They are staying with Vern's sister Courtney who lives in Canberra, as do several of the Howe family. 

Sunday 9th June

Nathan picked me up for church at 8.30.  I said goodbye to Janet, and left my bag and key for  her to leave at the desk when she checked out in the afternoon.  Nathan would take Janet to the airport at 2.00pm.  At the meeting house we somehow entered a door almost right into the chapel.  It was a typical Australian LDS chapel, but here the raw lines of the red brick interior walls were softened by green plants across the front.  Tony Abel was the bishop.

We went to the senior Howes after church.  Bill and Wally produced a tasty lunch of baked beans on toast.  I spent the early afternoon sitting beside the amazing Mini.  She did most of the talking, giving me hints as to how to find my Welsh ancestry.  I appreciated her suggestions, but I think people just do not realize the problem of so many people in the same area having the same names.

Mini told me some amazing stories of prescience in her ancestry.  Her sister, an atheist – or at least a person with no use for God – found she knew the way around a village in Scotland where she had never before been.  She was visiting with a football team. Mini found that an ancestor had lived there.  Fearing to weary Mini, (and also fearing our conversation would dry up!), and wanting to take advantage of my expensive hotel room,  I had Nathan drive me back to the hotel at 4.00pm. 

When I checked in, I was told that I had been upgraded to an executive suite at no extra cost.  Nathan remarked that these things are always happening to me. They are indeed.  It must be my age!  Or do I look feeble?  It can hardly be because I look the executive type!   At first the room  did not look much different from the other, except that there was one bed and a couch instead of the other bed.  Later I found refinements.  Triple mirror in the bathroom, a shower with a detachable head, bathrobes hanging in the closet, a possibly a larger TV set (I did not figure out how to use it) a laptop (I did not try to figure out how to use that), better bedside lights perhaps, I do not remember.  What I do remember, for it amused me, lids for the cups, and that they did not fit well! 

There was something else that I especially appreciated.  I was on the ground floor and my large windows looked out onto the enclosed patio/courtyard/garden.  I could sit on the sofa and look out.  Not for long though, because it soon began to get dark.  Vern had been concerned that I would have no dinner and wanted to bring me some.  No, I had enough snack bars of one sort or another to make a meal of, things that I had brought for the meal-less flight and had not eaten, M&Ms from the wedding reception, the free hotel cookies.

Monday 10th June

When Nathan phoned that he was almost ready to leave, I was ready, and sitting on my sofa with  half my attention out of the window, and half reading the Gideon Bible. We left Canberra in a temperature of 2 degrees on a misty morning.  Nathan and Vern were alone in the car.  The children would follow later the other car.  Some of them had gone back to Sydney for a YSA convention.  I never did not get the ins and outs of who was where and when.  They actually arrived in Melbourne very late indeed.  We had a pleasant and peaceful 670km drive,  Nathan driving first, and then Vernice while Nathan had a sleep.  We stopped at Chiltern, an interesting little town, and had lunch at a Bakery known to Nathan and Vernice. Then it was over the Great Dividing Range again (not that one would notice) and home to Reservoir.

Tuesday 11th June.

I had decided to go to Kyneton this week so as to be back for Vernice's birthday next week.  Margaret came to get me this morning, arriving at 9.30, thus giving me most of the day at Kyneton.

There I stayed until Saturday.  The weather was bleak, so the only times I went out of the house were for a walk with Margaret and the dog by the river early one cold morning, and an outing with Margaret and Huw to Gerard's place another day. 

On Saturday both Margaret and Huw brought me back to Reservoir.  On Sunday I went to church with Vernice, Carmen and Austin in the morning, and to the Melbourne International Branch with Nathan in the afternoon.   That chapel is right in the city, not far from where Nathan works.  It consists of the entire second floor of a block of offices.  Quite different from the usual chapel.  The people, mainly Vietnamese, were friendly and I much enjoyed the meetings.  That was Nathan's last official Stake visit.  His Stake Presidency was to be released the following Sunday.

Thursday 20th June Vernice drove me to the airport early, on her way to work.  I had a good flight and a safe journey home.