Above the Verandas

Do you ever look above the shop fronts?

I do and I wonder why I haven’t hit the car in front.
Above the shop fronts, there is another world. Sometimes it shows you signs of the early history of the buildings, or shows the contrast between a modern street level and the original second level.
Many of our inner suburban strip shopping streets have evolved from the late 1800s through prosperous times, the depression and times of migration with enclaves of different nationalities.
One street that has fascinated me has always been Brunswick Street, Fitzroy.

I decided that during a break during the working day, I'd park the car, not easy in this very busy area around lunch time and walk a small portion of Brunswick Street with my camera.

Fitzroy is actually one of Melbourne's first suburbs, in fact the oldest being proclaimed a borough in 1858. My early ancestor, George Sims arrived in the late 1800s at the age of 16 from London to make a new life for himself. Originally living in the inner city, he later moved to the Fitzroy area as did later generations of the family, the last being my father as a child. The life was particularly tough during the 1930s and 1940s.

I remember the rough times during the 60s when it was not a nice place to be when the sun went down. Towards the city end of Brunswick Street was the Rob Roy Hotel. It had a reputation as a bit of a blood bath of a drinking hole. Things started to change leading into the late 70s and then the 80s.
Today the street is vibrant with the Bohemia and trendy mixing with long term residents and the not so well-off.

The shops have a similar theme to the people in the street. Next to the community help centres for the poor could be a trendy boutique beer bar. Eclectic music and book shops snuggle up to pre-loved clothing stores and all manner of cuisine from the many cafes and restaurants.


Brunswick Street somehow, despite its buildings of peeling paint, graffiti and hotch-potch appearance, it oozes with a vibrancy that can’t be found outside the inner Melbourne district. It really is worth a walk down its three kilometer length.

Above the verandas is well worth a look in Brunswick Street.

For more information on Fitzroy's history and the day to day life within the suburb, go to the link below.
http://indolentdandy.net/fitzroyalty/

Good friends, good food, good wine = good times.

Several of our friends have this year taken trips overseas, mainly France and Italy so we decided to organize a night where we could share our experiences.

Two of the couples, Dags and Denise, Bet and Nico went to Italy for the Giro (Tour of Italy) with a group of twelve, while Jenny who works for Loreal and her husband, Bob the Brickie have been to France. All have had time in Paris.
Initially we thought Bastille Day would be a good choice but trying to get four busy couples together is never an easy task.
We all discovered this Sunday night was free so off to the market on Saturday morning.
Now when Sue organizes a casual get together, it becomes a major production and an all out dinner party becomes, well let’s not go there (having said that, it’s worth being there).
I never mean it to be a production – I always start small and it grows, seemingly by itself.
I’ll let Sue explain the menu.
I decided that instead of a sit down formal type dinner, we would all just sit around the fire (But I have to light the fire and then clean up afterwards) and have nibbly finger food all night – with a Frenchish theme. Some people have indicated they are bringing a plate of nibbles and I am preparing –
Sweet corn and red capsicum soup shots
Little tarts of blue cheese and roasted cherry tomato
Smoked salmon crepes with crème fraiche and salmon roe
Roasted duck breast slices with a plum sauce in lettuce cups with
Pear, caramelized walnut and parmesan salad in lettuce cups
Prawns with aioli
Caramelized onion and brie tart
Seared scallops with honey and lime dressing served in Chinese spoons
Chocolate and raspberry cake with cream
Tomorrow I might decide to do spiced, baked chicken spare ribs as well – just in case there’s not enough food……oh be quiet Leon, you know you’ll eat them! Yum, yum........

The food, the company and the wine was superb. We finished off with a viewing of the different couple’s photos from various trips and although its only been a few short months since our return, we are already enthusiastic to plan our next adventure.
Where to next time – France of course, although Sue mentioned New York.......

Sometimes, don’t you wish you hadn’t started?

Recently for my birthday (April 1 – yes I know, April Fool’s Day), Sue presented me with a 350 gigabyte portable hard-drive. I actually took this on our recent trip with the little Eee PC so we would have music on our travels. I’d been a bit of a music freak prior to entering my teenage years.

I guess my mother influenced me by allowing me to watch all those musicals starring Judy Garland, Bing Crosby, Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra, not to forget the great Sammy Davis Jr.
My first two LPs were of Sammy (I still have it) and the other, a Bill Haley release which came with my first record player. Being a portable player of the era it looked like a large make-up case. What did I know (or care), I was probably seven years old at the time!!!
Anyway that was the start of the rot.
Later came Elvis Presley, Little Richard, Chuck Berry just before I entered my teenage years. That’s when I moved on from my parent’s music – much more exciting and of course, rebellious.

The Study needs a bit of a tidy up, but I know where each CD is placed.
Amongst the few LPs I had were many 45s which these days are probably landfill somewhere.
My first real foray into an obsessive music collecting mania was when I had my first job and money burning a hole in my pocket. The LP collection grew dramatically with the latest releases from the Beatles, Rolling Stones, The Who, and many other British bands along with the many black blues artists that they drew their influences from.

Now where am I going with all this????
That’s right I remember now, Sue bought me this 350 gig hard-drive and I thought, “why not put my CD collection on it”.
My collection of CDs has reached around 1500. I’m not sure why I bought some of them as there are some truly dreadful examples of poor music amongst the collection. Also some very dated music, which at the time seemed great.
But, yes there are some unbelievable classics that bring joy every time I play them.
Like catching up with old friends, they give a satisfying moment when enjoying a bottle of wine or a well made coffee over some reminiscing conversation.

After three months I’m just about to add Warren Zevon and the Zombies to the hard-drive. From A to Z has been a long journey but I’ve re-discovered some great memories.

But, sometimes, don’t you wish you hadn’t started?

Nar Nar Goon - the Mural Town

This morning was my corner duty day – if you have been watching the Tour de France, you would be aware of the traffic control involved? Well smaller club races are no different, albeit on a smaller scale. Safety and duty of care are always the main issues today in this litigious society.
Get on with the story Leon….
OK so I did my corner duty out in the cold with my Hi Visibility vest and the all important stop/slow lollipop sign (I felt important) and did my bit for the year.

These days road racing is some distance from the built up areas of the Melbourne sprawl. On this occasion the race was about 65 kms south east from the city.
Not far from the corner that I was marshalling is a small town called Nar Nar Goon. It’s probably no more than a km or two from the main highway. I’ve always been intrigued by the name, even as a child. It means Koala in the language of the Aboriginals from the district.
I can remember a radio personality by the name of “Joffa Boy” Allen talking about the local Nar Nar Goon football team. Before the war they would race cars on an old dirt circuit out there. I’d interviewed some of the drivers who raced there before the war in my book “Rob Roy Hill Climb”.
As well as the local footy club, Nar Nar Goon would have their Potato Festival to raise funds for local community projects – there was even a Miss Nar Nar Goon, a title to be proud of by a local Belle that raises the amount of funds.

Anyway, I thought being so close, I’ll have a look at the town out of interest.
These days Nar Nar Goon is known as the “Mural Town”. The walls of the different establishments are tastefully painted with scenes from an earlier era of the town.

Hope you enjoy the photographs – click on them to enlarge.
Have to go now, Sue wants me to vacuum. I have to build up some Brownie points for next weekend.

Jack, my Dad

It’s been some weeks since I last raced on the velodrome due to six weeks on holiday, followed by a cold. Nevertheless I decided that Thursday night would be a good time to start again.
This blog is not so much about my racing but the friendship I and my track racing mates have with my 88 year old cycling passionate father Jack.
Yes, you heard correctly, he’s 88 years old, sharp as a tack and cheeky as all hell.
Pic 1: Jack showing his elation at reaching his 88th birthday and still being a regular on the bike.
He still rides his bike five days a week, never on the weekend. “After all” he says, “If I rode seven days, how would I know when the weekend started".
Jack first started racing the bike back in 1937 when bikes didn’t have gears and the roads were dirt most of the times. I remember as a child seeing his bikes and trophies hanging about in the garage. His last track bike was my first. The wheels had wooden rims.

He didn’t talk much about his racing career. I learnt that from people of his era when I started racing.
Jack turns up at the indoor velodrome every Thursday night to sit in his “reserved” seat.
Despite the fact that very few spectators attend this club style racing, it’s a brave person that sits in “his” seat.

Everyone knows Jack. Kids of 12 years to an old mate called Ian Browne who turned up last night to watch. Ian was a gold medalist at the 1956 Melbourne Olympics on the Tandem. Jack knows them all.
Pic 2: Jack's Track - The Indoor Velodrome

Anyway that’s the main reason I race Thursday nights – to sit and have a Guinness after racing with my Dad.