ADELAIDE From Boredom to Exhilaration and Beyond

The raison d'être

The Foundations colloquium was probably one of the most unimaginative and irrelevant things I have been to for a while - the demographic in the room told the story - aging, ambitious academics who think they are bigger than life itself - little to say - snobbish and selectively deaf to any suggestions. The high light of the experience was the company of my colleagues Diane, Angela and Kay. It was good to have a chance to talk about our work outside of the SUT environment - to laugh and help each other survive the trauma of our cavernous, stuffy, smelly and suffocating accommodation at the Mercure Grosvenor in North Terrace (I do not recommend this as a place to stay at)

The survival strategy

As I have had the good fortune to live in Adelaide in my distant past it was great to be able to be a 'tour guide' for our small party. In the little time we had we managed to concentrate our efforts on the gastronomic delights of the city. First stop was the Brasserie at the Hilton, the brainchild of Simon Bryant (Cook and the Chef) where we indulged in an exquisite three courses of local and regional delicacies washed down by a wonderful McLarenvale Coriole Verdelho. Breakfast the next morning was at Cibo on Gouger street a favourite of mine.

The conference dinner was held at Regattas on the Torrens River front at the new convention centre. Once again the food had a wonderful regional theme and beautifully presented. Our small group sat almost alone at a table - perhaps we were not wearing the right 'symbols'.

The next morning it was a quick tour of the boutique Adelaide Central Markets - and a must experience - Breakfast at Lucia's. The tigellata was perfetto!!

Let the fun begin

After farewells I made my way back to Suzanne and Gary's to dump my cases and then off on a wander to make the most of a second chance at the John Brack retrospective that I had missed in Melbourne. It was a wonderful experience here are a couple of my favourites:

The Latin American Finalists

and on the left the centrepiece - the Bar. I have juxtapositioned the Manet Bar at folies bergere as I enjoyed the memory of so recently being able to stand in front of the original at the Courtauld Gallery in London.

It was also enjoyable to get a first hand glimpse at this modernist master's take on everyday Australia. In 1965 John Brack said, ‘For me I think that there must always be some sort of comment, but it must never be the sort of comment that could be put into words.’ His was an art of ideas that aimed to speak directly to the viewer. It was grounded in the everyday but communicated through a distinctive and highly personal language incorporating complex visual analogy, irony, humour, a sophisticated use of metaphor, and always underpinned by a deep knowledge of the history of art.

The rest of my time here has mainly been spent PhD ing and walking around the streets of the city photographically observing architectural development. Here is a sample:

The new development at North Terrace near the convention Centre.

On the right - keeping things clean in the clouds memories of the Sony centre in Berlin.

The High Court

Adelaide innovations in Rubbish Collection in Rundle Mall

On the Right our two furry friends Ari and Agtet accompanied Gary and myself on a quick photographic tour of Port Adelaide!

And on the way home a delightful diversion passing the Cheetham Salt works at Port Wakefield - the landscape was reminiscent of a Georgia O 'Keefesque New Mexico vision.

ON THE ROAD AGAIN in South Australia

FLEURIEU PENINSULA

Three months down the track and back on the road again - seems more like an eon. All the usual stresses and strains managed to creep back after the wonderful Spanish and Uk trip -so the idea of a few extra days to 'chill out' before and after a conference in Adelaide was gratefully accepted. Anyway, the other truth is that the trip evolved an opportunity to celebrate the 60th birthday of my dear friend Suzanne.

It's always good to be back in the 'city of churches' - broad sweeping streets, ordered traffic and a somewhat 'mediterranean' air about the climate. My first instinct is to head for the Central Market to feast my eyes upon the beautifully laid out gastronomic delights, however on this occasion after a rendezvous at their city apartment, Suzanne, Gary and the two poodles Ari and Agtet (named after the philosopher Aristotle and photographer Agtet) the gang set out for Victor Harbour about 80 kms down on the Fleurieu Peninsula. The drive down evokes fond memories of my two years in Adelaide in the 80's when I had cause to spend many a relaxing weekend at 'duck cottage' on at Second Valley.

After a good night's sleep and attention to the Saturday morning shopping rituals we made our way down to the Anchorage for a coffee and cake. Being at Victor Harbour brought back a few memories of Eastbourne and the Costa Geriatrica ... the place is fast being taken over by retirees and their accoutrement. Overlooking the sea we (that is photographers Gary

and myself') were visually drawn to the deserted bowling club on the waterfront. As valuable property, these have now become quite a common sight as property values skyrocket and clubs are unable to sustain upkeep. This photo is somewhat 'David Hockneyish' in its composition.

The birthday celebration had been planned as a lunch - up along the coast at a favourite haunt at Port Willunga. Suza

nne and I have returned to the Star of Greece for an annual birthday celebration for the last eight years. Perched high on the cliffs overlooking the Gulf of St Vincent this cafe/restaurant never disappoints. From this clifftop position, the waters of the Gulf are like a millpond, so calm that it's hard to imagine the severity of the storm which once claimed the lives of seventeen men. It was off this point that the Star of Greece came to grief in July 1888 as she set off for Great Britain with her cargo of wheat. Ove

r one hundred years on from that fateful storm we are now able the experience the

fine dining and views at the Cafe which bears her name. Sitting inside at our pre-booked table it feels more like Santorini than South Australia. Whiteblue are the dominant colours outside and inside amidst the retro brightly coloured decor we raised our glasses of cool crisp Sauvignon Blanc and watched the light and sea combine to paint a Rothko landscape.

It's hard to describe the sublime experience we shared that afternoon. The food was fresh, adventurous and perfectly balanced in flavour, style and taste - so I will let the pictures do the talking.

(L) Pork Belly, Seared Scallops and Pineapple Sorbet.

(R) Hand made Falafels in the foreground Kalamata Olive and Haloumi sauteed with onion and thyme.

mmm ...getting hungry? I will not include all the photos ...you will just have to visit and taste the extravaganza yourself!

Below (L) Hazelnut Cake with Berries and Mascarpone Mousse and (R) Macadamia and Banana Pudding with Caramel Sauce and Chocolate Sorbet.

The afternoon sun burned hot and tempted us outside for an after lunch spot of caffeine. Here we were able to gaze out at the blue shimmering waters of the Gulf and watch flocks of seagulls swoop and float in the early summer thermals swirling as if performing as post prandial for us over sated humans.

Another dreamy long lunch at the Star of Greece.

We meandered our way back to Victor Harbour through acres of emerald vineyards along the coast and up through the freshly cut hay paddocks and gently rolling hills of the peninsula. Stately Red gums and Stringy Barks lined the winding roads that were edged with wild

Penstimon, Lupins and 'egg and bacon' wild flowers. every now and then the landscape revealed a splash f purple from early blossoming Salvation Jane or the vivid yellow of a field of Canola. Newly shorn sheep lazed around the paddocks while queues of Jersey cows lined up eagerly at dairy for their turn to be milked. The countryside is still washed a lush green with only a hint of the searing summer awaiting the landscape.

An early sea fog was rising rapidly from the Great Southern ocean and we finally arrived home to spend a lazy afternoon reflecting on life, the universe and everything from our perch on the balcony overlooking Rosetta Head commonly known as the Bluff. To end this days adventure here is a photo of Ari and Agtet taken by Gary at the top of the Bluff.

Keep posted for another adventure !

Lariane on the Road Overview

Farewell England ...I'm at HKK Airport- The LAST POST

It sort of seems a long time since I blogged - but of course, it has only been a day and a bit - I'm here in transit at HKK International - clean, quiet, and free wifi!! why do things run so smoothly in some places? ..so this will be a Blog in transit.

On Friday after a wonderful and peaceful day at the British Library - I hurried about like a madwoman to catch a final glimpse of some Art .I set off to the National Gallery for the Corot to Monet exhibition.From its own archives of the National Gallery's lavish collection of 19th century French masterpieces, Corot to Monet charts the development of open-air landscape painting up to the first great Impressionist exhibition of 1874. It begins with small- scale oil sketches Denis, Pierre Henri de Valenciennes and Thomas Jones, works of art painted directly from nature in Rome and Naples in the 1780s. There are works from the Barbizon School as the exhibition examines how painters such as Théodore Rousseau, Jean François Millet and Narcisse-Virgilio Diaz de la Peña captured their native scenery.
By this stage I had almost murdered a few tourists (mainly those who sort of stand there to tick off their catalogue entry)...just as well I was relaxed ...
The exhibition went on to trace the influence of these canvases on the Impressionists as the Paris-based movement began experimenting with new techniques. Monet's The Beach at Trouville and other early efforts are on show alongside the beach scenes of Eugène Boudin and later works by Corot.

Call me boring but as usual I was drawn to Monet's work. However, it was interesting to look at the origins of the impressionists and be able to trace the development, especially as I had little knowledge of Corot. Two of my favourite works were - two iconic views of London by Monet and fellow refugee, Charles-Francois Daubigny.Monet's The Thames below Westminster captures the stillness of the then recently built Houses of Parliament, while Daubigny's St Paul's from the Surrey Side portrays a modern industrial city.

Fighting off the crowds in inner London is not my favourite pastime - and Trafalgar Square on a Friday evening is NO fun.. but it had been worth the effort and I finally made it back to Kilburn as Matthew and I had planned a night out. As it turned out he offered to make a great green salad (reminiscent of the Monti days) and I needed greens - so we polished off the salad accompanied by a bottle of Limsestone Coast Shiraz! By now we were both quite merry, and throwing caution to the wind decided to go to a local - for dessert and more wine.

Hugo's is basically on the next street - a resturaunt/bar which serves organic food and wine and has live Jazz.

I can't remember much past the next glass of French something and the Eton Mess (something resembling strawberries and Meringue)....we swayed home ....great night ..but ugh - an early morning ahead.


The morning started with a rendezvous with Dylan and Tessa at C'est Ici for a coffee and croissant .. feeling a little bit seedy - but bright sunny skies and caffeine did the trick.
We set off for Hammersith to collect goodies for our planned picnic on the Thames at Hampton Court. First to Blanche to get some scrummy Portuguese tarts (found later these were almost as good as my sister Ingrid's), then to a great Deli callled Sundrica and to Marks and Sparks for other fine dining items.

Dylan had worked out bus routes so we could be covered by our Travelcard - the added bonus being that we had a meandering trip via Kew Gardens and through what must once have been the ancient villages of Kewand Richmond. We passed the Maids of Honour - an old Bakery in Richmond that has been baking since the days of the Henry the VIII court and home of the 'Maid of Honour Cake'. The Maid of Honour cake has been part of Richmond history for nearly 300 years. Although there are numerous legends about its origin, it is generally believed that Henry VIII was the first to use the name when he met Ann Boleyn and other Maids of Honour eating the cakes from a silver dish. Apparently legend has it that King Henry VIII was so delighted with the cakes that the recipe was kept secret and locked in an iron box in Richmond Palace.

We finally at arrived at Hampton Court Palace and as we were starving elected to have lunch first- found a good spot on the banks of the Thames and indulged in what must go down as one of the best picnics I have ever had. Tessa had carefully packed wine goblets, cutlery and plates for the delicious spread - Fresh Ciabatta, Foccacia, Black Olives, Chilli and Coriander Pate, Cos Lettuce, the sweetest cherry tomatoes, fresh Mozarella and the runniest ripe French Brie ...all washed down by a bottle of fresh lemonade....what bliss.

Fully sated, we were ready for four hours of historical exploration - I had been here before with my friend Jonathon Blake in 1995 - the Privy Garden had just been re-planted and we had almost had the castle to ourselves, thanks to Jonathon's connections with the Elizbethan Theatre Company for whom he was a costume designer - but, today was a Saturday, the first sunny one in a while and school summer holidays...I shuddered at the prospect. However, I did manage to espcape from the crowds (in my head) and somehow managed to exclude them from my photos.

This place is the story of two palaces: a Tudor palace, magnificently developed by Cardinal Wolsey and later Henry VIII, alongside a baroque palace built by William III and Mary II.
With its 500 years of royal history Hampton Court Palace almost too much to take in, in one day. Set in sixty acres of world famous gardens the Palace is a living tapestry of history from Henry VIII to George II. From the elegance of the recently restored eighteenth century Privy Garden to the domestic reality of the Tudor Kitchens we are taken back through the centuries to experience the Palace as it was when royalty was in residence.

The Privy Garden as it appears today is one of the most accurately reconstructed gardens because so much was recorded about the original 1702 garden. William III died before it was completely finished and all the gardeners and workmen were so scared of not being paid that they submitted the fullest accounts for all their work. Even so, many of them including Tijou who made the ironwork and the supplier of the statues were never paid in full by Queen Anne. The Privy Garden represents a formal style of gardening which fell out of fashion soon after this garden was originally made.

This garden from Henry VIII’s day was always the King’s private garden, and very few people would ever have gained admittance to it up until the 18th century. Even then, it remained a private garden for the grace and favour residents of the palace right up until the early 20th century. So it is quite privilige to spend time in the garden now - to meander the paths quite freely. The highlights for me were too many to list - however, a standout was the Royal Chapel - absolutely exquisite with its blue and gold vaulted ceiling, and its elaborate parquetry floors and red velvet choirister seats. This chapel has remained the Chapel of Worship for every English monarch since it was built.

Another favourite was the many fireplaces in the chambers of the King and Queen and of course the wonderful 'Knot Gardens' with their windowed ouvres cut into the yew hedges. I was absolutely exhausted and found a quiet bench to reflect while Dylan and Tessa still raced around the grounds - oh to be young again!

At 6.00 Tessa and I were the last to be let out of the rarher large wooden doors - we pause for a while in Clock Court to admire the gold leaf on the blue clockface and I marvelled once more and the magnificent chimneys - large - red brick in winding geometrical patterns standing like sentinels on the rooftops - wouldn't they have a few stories to tell?- if only they could talk.

After a much needed cup of tea at Bluebeckers on the River, and one of our 'tarts' (snuck in in our bags) - we made our way back to Richmond to Carluccio's for final hurrah - the 'last supper' - Calamari and Penne with a spicy tomato sauce - a glass of Sicilian red and a long trip home - it was 11.00 pm and I was in no mood for packing - but I did have to face it and was amazed that everything fitted in the suitcase.

Farewell to Matthew and an early trip to Heathrow - where Dylan and Tessa were kind enough to drag themselves out of bed on a Sunday morning to see me off. The usual security nightmare ... Bags @ 23 kg .... and finally, CX252 departed on time and without much fuss - up into the ether -carrying me away laden with so many wonderful experiences, adventures and sensations that will fill my memory with sweet fragments for a long long time.

Monday 27th ...almost 26 hours in transit ...Melbourne - Tullamarine Airport - queues, sniffer dogs, questions, form filling ...Graeme's welcoming smile awating patiently to whisk me home to Geelong.

It's Tuesday today and as I complete this last Blog I am jetlagged and living in trepidation of the early morning start on VLine tomorrow - this will not be a St Pancras International experience - then there is the thought of work???? The bags have been unpacked - the mail opened ... accounts still to be dealt with (Sigh) Then there's the small matter of my beloved BMW - it sort of died while I was away - and at the cost of a large sum of money is to be revived over the next week - just what a girl needs to hear at midnight on the send last day of her holiday ... (Sigh) Then of course, there's the anxiety of seeing Dad again ..how will he be? (Sigh)

However, as I opened the gate late last night and walked up my garden path, I breathed in the cold nght air which was suffused with the early blooming Daphne - I opened the door, turned on the central heating, had a hot shower with plenty of free flowing water, and lay down in my very comfortable warm bed with Tigger (my hot water bottle) - I was home ...and, as much as I have loved being away, there's nothing like home.

So it's time to say farewell from me on this journey - and in doing so, and reflecting on the wonderful time I've had, I want to thank all my friends and family who in so many ways directly or indirectly contributed to making all this possible - because it was not just the generosity of friends and strangers overseas who contributed to the happy experience by offers of space in their lives - but it was also the unselfish generosity of family, friends and colleagues who contributed to the experience, who by generously stepping into the breach and supporting me in so many everyday ways - played a critical role in alllowing me the space to actually get away.

So, a great big thanks to each one of you - your friendship is one of the most precious things I have - I feel truly blessed -

I will leave you with these words of Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and sorry I could not travel both
and be one traveller, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
and having perhaps the better claim,
because it was grassy and wanted wear;
though as for that the passing there
had worn them really about the same,
and both that morning equally lay,
in leaves no step had trodden back,
on, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted as I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh.
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less travelled by,
and that has made all the difference.



Lots of love,

Lariane xx

Found a new home ..think I'll stay for a while...

The weather did not get much better ...now I am begining to understand why the Brits are so obsessed with talking about the weather ...remember once? when it used to rain in Melbourne, we too used to talk about it all the time.

I negotiated a few tube changes and arrived at Kings Cross/ St Pancras International to meet Gillian for lunch. What an amazing experience - years gone by, I was quite familiar with this station as it was where I often caught the Midland train to Bedford to visit my aunt and uncle. It was a dilapidated, sad and depressing place - probably one of the most run down stations (mainline) in London. well, the transformation has to be seen to be believed.

St Pancras International is truly a 21st-century wonder. In 1877 Sir George Gilbert Scott's single-span iron-and-glass train shed was engineered by William Henry Barlow (1812-1902) and Rowland Mason Ordish (1824-1886), both of whom had worked with Joseph Paxton on the design of the Crystal Palace.

As you walk into St Pancras through brand new gothic doors and enter the station's previously unseen undercroft, with its 800 Victorian iron pillars,check-in points and security controls fill the former storage basement.I rode up the long, silent escalators up to the trains basking beneath Barlow and Ordish's glorious roof. This is the most adventurous and biggest roof of its kind (certainly that I have ever seen) and it has apparently remained so for decades after it was built. It is now painted a sky blue and flooded with daylight from the skylights that lie between the metal. This station, welcomes 1 Km long, 300kph trains, and has a huge cocktail bar The Champagne Bar, a branch of Foyles , a smart Searcy's restaurant and brasserie - The Oyster Bar (I only looked from the outside), and hundreds of coffee bars and boulangeries. The floors are covered in timber and stone rather than boring carpet, there are new gothic carvings, newly cast gothic door handles, and a nine-metre-high sculpture of lovers meeting under the station clock. How could anyone ever have thought of denying the world this engineering aria, this architectural masterpiece.? But, they did try - there was much opposition to the preservation of the building.

When St Pancras was threatened with destruction in 1966, eminent architectural historians - including Nikolaus Pevsner and tireless conservationists, notably John Betjeman - fought a vigorous campaign to shame British Railways and Harold Wilson's governmenmt. Today, a statue of John Betjaman, the poet stands cast in bronze and surrounded by a poem of his on the stonein honour of his heroic deeds. Here are his words:

"And in the shadowless unclouded glare,
Deep blue above us fades to whiteness where,
A misty sealine meets the wash of air ..."

It is - and I think Scott, Barlow, Ordish, Pevsner and Betjeman might all agree, whether you have business in Brussels, a lunch date in Paris or are simply keen to avoid airport hell, whether you are a railway buff, an engineer, curious shopper, architectural historian or a Friday-evening champagne Charlie, or an idle traveller like me, the new-look St Pancras is very likely to suit you. Here is a gothic fairy tale brought up to date, setting a new standard for England's railways, and has brought new life to one of Europe's most compelling buildings.

I met Gillian for lunch and we chose Carluccio's for a Mozarella and Tomato salad and superb coffee - a bit more suitable than the Champagne Bar at this time of day. We bade farewell at the Sheffield express and I headed off to what could become my new home - The British Library.


T he British are rabid collectors of information, artifacts, and antiquities. Many of the world's most important museums are on this small island. They've been cataloging civilization longer than many countries have been in existence. So, why then, is something with a title as prestigious as "The British Library" in a building so modern? Because, amazingly enough,up till this - it used to be little more than a reading room in the British Museum.

The sun came out ...briefly!
This building was constructed in 1998 after more than 20 years of planning, bickering, and partisan shenanigans. Before this building was erected, the millions of books in the collection were scattered around the city in other libraries. Getting them all together in one place is a boon to readers and researchers. The end result is a reddish-brown building that has not yet earned a soft spot in the public's heart. It looks something like one of the mills that used to line the banks of rivers all over Britain, churning out textiles two centuries ago. But now the product is knowledge, and the warehouse of information this building contains is enough to keep people like me here for many years.

And then it poured again ....
My first mission was to obtain a Readers Registration card. After queueing and all the correct protocols and tests/evidence, I am now the proud owner of a British Library Readers Card till end 2010 - I may have to stay.I was here till 7.00 last night and today I am back for more - Galleries, readers rooms, cafes, clean toilets, readers lounge, quiet spaces with free wireless internet access - what more could a girl want. Perhaps 3 months here to finish that PhD!
Dream On ...

Here is a small sample of things I have seen:


The original Magna Carta
Magna Carta is often thought of as the corner-stone of liberty. Four copies of this original grant survive. Two, including this one, are held here at the British Library


The William and Mary seal for the establishment of the East India Trading Company - the facade for expansion of colonialism.
The East India Company was the foundation stone of British colonial expansion in Asia, and was established by royal charter in 1600.

The Codex Sinaiticus
Codex Sinaiticus is one of the most important books in the world. Handwritten well over 1600 years ago, the manuscript contains the Christian Bible in Greek, including the oldest complete copy of the New Testament.

This is the original version of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, hand-written by Charles Dodgson for Alice Liddell between 1862 and 1864.




This working draft for one of Virginia Woolf's most admired novels dates from 1924. Originally called 'The Hours', it was published the following year as Mrs Dalloway.
The most surreal experience here was the chance to hear Virginia Woolf's actual voice in an interview from the BBC archives on 'Craftsmanship'. i felt she was in the room with me.

Elgar's 'Enigma Variations on an Original Theme' is one of the most familiar pieces of English musicThis was one of the first works to bring Elgar to public recognition, and was first performed in London in June 1899.

The epic Ramayana has been performed throughout India and South East Asia for at least 2000 years. The earliest written text dates back to 400 AD, and was written by the poet Valmiki who brought together stories, songs and prayers connected to Rama and Sita. The epic's origins are in India and Hinduism, but over the centuries the story has crossed seas and mountains, languages and religions, performance styles and art forms. One of the phenomenons of this epic is its migration around the world, which has led to multiple versions and tellings, each storyteller re-composing the story for each audience. Ramayana is still a living performance tradition today.

Apart from all of this there old maps (Christopher Columbus), The Lindisfarne Gospels, John Lennon's original scribblings of 'Help', Jane Austen's 'Persuasion....and on and on...

The other most appealing aspect of spending time here is the environment - conducive to learning - the way in which one meets other researchers quite spontaneously - great conversations - people from all over the globe - diverse research interests -each with a story to tell - Oh how I would love to stay ... but I'm off to the National Gallery for my last hit of 'art' an exhibition 'From Corot to Monet' ...farewell for now ... this could almost be my last post...perhaps one more!
Bye!