Spanish art

Phil was on a real winning streak with our choice of accommodation.  He had found us a great little apartment in Madrid that was in the middle of a triangle of galleries and a short walk from the famous Puerta del Sol.

We spent much of our days walking through these incredible museums and galleries that Madrid had.  The quality of the exhibitions and displays were very good, mixing the traditional art you would expect to see in any large European gallery with more contemporary pieces.

Our favourite gallery was definitely the Reina Sofia.

The building itself was a blend of new and old.  A classic old European structure that had been encased with modern elements.

It was like much of Madrid.  The old elements were all there and they were well maintained.  Yet the modern was also blended into the city.  It felt natural, like it had developed according to a pre-determined plan.

A few days wasn't enough and we wished we had more time.

Madrid

After a few days of partying in Barcelona, Phil and I boarded the fast train for Madrid.

It was convenient, comfortable and actually went incredibly fast.  Australia has been mulling the development of a fast train network for decades, but it's hard to appreciate what we're missing until you actually ride one.  The process of getting to and from the station is so much quicker and you don't have the same hassle of having to go through the usual pre-boarding routine.  It's also nice to be able to just go to a train station in the middle of town and not have to schlep out to an airport on the far outskirts.

Phil had found us another great apartment in the middle of town.  It was in fact right in the middle of a triangle of museums and galleries which would prove handy.

The Barcelona and Madrid divide is famous around the world.  Geographically, they aren't far apart, but there's a huge gap culturally and politically.  You could see it quite quickly from the moment you arrived.  Madrid just looks different.  Barcelona has the look of a Mediterranean city, it's relaxed and the buildings have the "look" of a Mediterranean city.  Madrid on the other hand is classically European.  It has the grand and traditional style of architecture you would expect when visiting Europe.  Even the people seem more serious. 

I quickly liked Madrid.  I liked it a lot.  The city was full of parks and monuments, incredible museums and beautiful galleries.  At night the city was just as lively as Barcelona, with bars and restaurants everywhere.  As much as I enjoyed my time in Barcelona, I think I enjoyed myself more in Madrid.  The bar culture was one of the best I had ever seen and the food at each place was fantastic.  For an inland city, I was surprised by how seafood focused all the bar snacks were.  We ate calamari sandwiches, mussels, baby eels, cod croquettes, gambas.  All of it delicious, but not what I expected at all.

Gaudi's Spain

The city of Barcelona really does belong to Gaudi.  Culturally, aesthetically, architecturally.  He left his stamp on this city and whenever people think of it, they generally think of his style.  Everywhere in the city, you can see imitations of his style and his masterpiece, the Sagrada Familia dominates the Barcelona skyline.

No first time visitor to Barcelona can avoid his works and so Phil and I both lined up to pay homage to this famed architect.  

My initial impressions weren't positive.

Standing in front of the cathedral, you feel overawed by its size.  It's a huge structure, but that being said, there have been other cathedrals I've stood in front of which have felt more imposing.  Looking at the detail, I also didn't quite get it.  There was no doubt that the design was incredibly unique and it was nothing like any other cathedral I had seen before.  As much as a looked at it though, I didn't really see the beauty in it.  It looked like it had been made from sand and I didn't like the shape of it at all.  Even in its state of ongoing construction, there was something very unfinished about the structure, even the parts that were meant to be complete.  It felt like blasphemy to have these thoughts, but when I looked over at Phil he seemed to be equally unimpressed.

The line to get in moved slowly.  Thankfully we had arrived early, the number of people in the line behind us continued to grow well past where had started.  At last, we got to go inside.

My attitudes switched completely when I was inside the cathedral.

I found the inside of the Sagrada Familia to be worthy of being described as breath taking.  It was a bright and open space, with thin white pillars that seemed almost alien in their design.  They reached high into the ceiling like some otherworldly trees, with branches spreading out to hold up the roof.  The intricacies which I found to be a bit strange and unattractive on the outside of the building were stunningly beautiful on the inside.  Every other cathedral I had ever been to was generally quite dark on the inside.  There would be certain sections which were a bit more lit up, but in general they weren't places that shone with natural light.  The Sagrada Familia on the other hand welcomes the light in.  The stained glass windows are unsurprisingly enormous and lovely, but when combined with the whiteness of the stone they seemed to give the entire interior a lovely glow.

I couldn't help but think about all of the sci-fi movies and space operas I had watched over the years.  The interior of this cathedral felt like something from one of those movies, like it was a monument built by some advanced civilisation who had skills and engineering far exceeding what we had now.  I thought about it a bit more and realised that my thinking was probably back to front.  This cathedral wasn't like those movies, it was those movies that were in fact like this cathedral!  This cathedral was itself the inspiration to all of those other artists, writers and directors and not vice-versa.

We had bought tickets which would let us go to the top.  That's one thing about my travels I've always done, I've always tried to get to the top if at all possible.  Most European cities are quite low, so the top of the cathedrals often offer the best vantage spot to see the entire city.  The Sagrada Familia was no different.  When we reached the top, we could see far out into the distance of Barcelona.

We left the Sagrada Familia and continued our "Gaudi tour".  We caught the suburb a bit further out to have a look at Park Guell.

The entire park was built and designed by Gaudi, so everything had his unique style and look.  From a location perspective, it was also a great place to see Barcelona as it's set on a hill looking across Barcelona all the way to the ocean.  Everything building, staircase, monument and statue was "Gaudi".  There were no hard lines or corners, everything was curved and flowing.  There were also lots of examples of the mosaics that Gaudi loved to apply to his works.  I still wasn't sure if I really liked it all that much, but I was definitely starting to appreciate it more.  Like the Sagrada Familia, it was just such a unique approach to design.  It all felt and looked more natural, it looked like the structures belonged to the landscape and had grown from their surroundings rather than merely being imposed into nature.  It again made me think of some sci-fi movies I had watched and I really did wonder how much of an inspiration he had been for many of their writers.

By this stage in the day we were tired.  Well... I was tired.  I always prided myself in my ability to walk non-stop when traveling, but Phil more than had my measure.  We were in Spain, so eventually I had to say "no mas".  I needed food.  We walked down from the park and wandered into the first churreria we saw.  It seemed legitimate enough and when we checked on our phones, it turned out to be one of the most highly regarded churrerias in the city.  We were the only people in the shop and the man behind the counter made our orders fresh.  We picked up the still hot churros and when we bit into them they still had a satisfying crunch.  Combined with the small cup of hot and thick chocolate, it was pick me up I needed to keep walking.

We managed to walk most of the way back to the Gothic Quarter.  It was a long walk, but it gave us a chance to see the city.  Once you leave the main areas, everything clears out significantly and it starts to feel like any other city, albeit with prettier architecture.  We had been given a strong recommendation to go and visit a restaurant near our apartment called "Cal Pep", so we went back to the apartment to change before heading over.

Cal Pep itself is a bit strange, it's half restaurant and half bar.  The most famous part is probably the open bar area where you sit and see the food being prepared in front of you.  There isn't really a fixed menu and you are served the seafood that the chefs considered to be the best choices out of the market that day.  We waited in line to get a seat at the bar.  The line was long, but everyone was quite happy to sit along the back wall and experience the laughter and banter from the chefs and waiters in front.  They were loud and they were enjoying themselves.  Even as we waited, we weren't ignored and we were able to order bottles of wine to help with the wait.  It's probably the only time I've ever enjoyed lining up.

After we finished our bottle, we reached the front of the line and we were seated at the bar.  The long wait is probably one of the best methods for Cal Pep to drive its business, as watching a variety of different dishes being served to those in front of us meant that we were ravenous.  Our friendly waiter brought us another bottle of wine and asked us what we wanted.  "Chef's choice" was our response, imitating what most others seemed to also chose.  My only requirement was that I wanted one of the plates to be razor clams (though I think they're actually called jackknife clams).  The waiter seemed more than happy with our choice.

The food was as advertised.  Everything was as fresh as I had hoped and just as well cooked.  Each dish was an example of the best that the region's sea had to offer.  I got my clams, we had langoustines, calamari, fish .... all of it cooked to push the fresh flavour of the ingredient.  The waiter was great and continued to joke with us throughout the meal.  The one time he was more serious was when he brought out my razor clams (jackknife clams?), he changed into an instructor and told us that we weren't to use our knives.  He motioned to eat each of the whole clams in one go.  We obeyed his commands, pulled each clam out of its shell by hand and ate them in one mouthful.  His guidance had been right.  After everything arrived and was devoured, Phil looked at me and asked "one more dish?"  Seemed like a good idea.  We asked for one more plate and the waiter arranged it all with a smile.

We hadn't yet reached the point of too much of a good thing, so pushing it a bit further seemed to be the way to go.

Barcelona

Switzerland was a lot of fun.  Seeing all my old friends was alone worth the trip.  However, it was time to move on to the next location.

I had arranged to catch up with Phil and we both decided to go spend a week in Spain.  I hadn't seen Phil for a while, and it had been years since I had been to Spain.  The first time I went, I only spent time in the south of Spain as well, so I was looking forward to the opportunity to go to some of the more famous locations.  I arrived in Barcelona not too long before Phil's flight from Norway.  We made our way into Barcelona together where Phil had arranged our accommodation.  He had found us an amazing little apartment in the Gothic Quarter on a lane just off to the side of the famous La Rambla.  We walked up a few stories and found ourselves a simple and bare apartment.  It didn't have any special comforts or luxuries, but it did have a small balcony that looked out onto the lane.

After we settled, we went for a walk around the city.

La Rambla has a reputation as one of the loveliest pedestrian malls in the world.  Within a few minutes of walking around, it was clear to us that it was a well deserved reputation.  The Spanish poet Frederico Garcia Lorca apparently once said of La Rambla that it was "the only street in the world which I wish would never end."

It wasn't hard to understand the thinking.  The street has a combination of architecture, restaurants, markets and a general atmosphere that come together to make it incredibly lively in an exceptionally beautiful setting.  The paths are so wide that even when you have thousands of people walking along the street, there still seems to be space for everyone.

We went looking for a bar within the Gothic Quarter.  Walking down the narrow side streets, we walked past various restaurants and bars full of people.  We walked past some ladies who tried their very best to solicit our business, when we declined they began to blow raspberries at us... hilarious...  We eventually found a very old looking bar off one of the side streets.  We ordered some gins and then moved onto some absinthe.  The bars in the area all seemed to be museum pieces themselves.  They weren't all in the best condition, but there was something about their worn down facades that made everything seem more genuine and real.

The Alps

It was still very early in the ski season, but since I had the opportunity, I thought I would try and ski.  I wouldn't be going just anywhere to do this either, I would go to ski in the Swiss Alps!

Living in Australia has always made skiing an expensive and difficult hobby to maintain.  It's been even harder with the knee injury and subsequent surgery.  The recent attempt at skiing in Dubai had been a nice test of the knee since the surgery.  It had been successful, so it seemed like it was now the time to increase the intensity of the testing.

It had been great staying with Zubi and his family in Bern.  He dropped me off at the train station and I started heading towards the Alps.  Of all the different ski resorts close to Bern, one of the closest happened to be Zermatt.  I had read about this place since I was a kid and most people are familiar with the unique profile of the Matterhorn (anyone who has ever eaten a Toblerone should be familiar with its shape).  I had been on a lot of incredible train rides recently, but the train ride up to Zermatt was probably the best I had ever been on in my life.  It was a slow and scenic train with big windows that covered half the roof of the carriages.  Sitting back, you could look up and see high into the mountains.

I arrived in Zermatt late in the afternoon.  The sun was setting and there was a chill in the air.  The two itself was quiet.  It was again, the very beginning of the ski season, and so the town was largely still in set up mode.  I didn't know it until I arrived, but Zermatt doesn't allow cars, so walking around the town is a relaxing activity free of any need to be careful.

It was too late in the day to go skiing, so I just wandered around the town.  It had been a while since I had experienced any real cold weather, so I was enjoying being able to breath the cold air and the chill on my skin.

The next day I headed straight up the mountain.  I was surrounded by skiers and boarders who were all chatting about how terrible the snow was, but none of this really mattered for me.  Being able to ski again after all these years was what was important to me.  I skied for most of the day and I was nothing short of terrible.  All those years away meant that my technique was gone and even basic carving was something I needed to relearn.  I didn't care at all though.  I had a great time!  Every now and again, I heard other skiers talking about how few runs were open.  It amazed me that they could complain about this.  Even with the limited runs, it was still possible for me to ski on runs that were 6 or 7 kilometres long.  These bad conditions were still twice as long as even the very best runs in perfect conditions in Australia.

As I carefully navigated myself down the slopes, every now and again I would stop and look back towards the Matterhorn.  It felt surreal to be skiing in its shadow, to be able to enjoy this experience of skiing in one of the world's great alpine locations with a backdrop this beautiful.  As I finished my day skiing, I sat in a restaurant looking out of a window at the Matterhorn.  I ordered a rosti with egg and bacon, which seemed to be the appropriate meal for the occasion.  I thought about whether to go and ski more, but before I could make the decision a huge storm started to roll in over the mountains.  The clear skies disappeared and the lifts were closed.  The skiing was over, but it had been a good day.

Swiss fondue

The temperature had dropped a bit when I left Zurich and headed to Bern.  The train ride over was peaceful.  The scenery consisted of the most bucolic of rolling hills and pastures.

I arrived at the main train station in Bern where I was picked up by Zubi.  It was great to see him.  I would be staying with him and his family for only a night.  Since it was getting cold, Zubi thought it would be a good night for fondue.

It was the first time I had ever actually had fondue.  It seems like something which everyone "knows", but it isn't something that everyone has necessarily tried these days.  On the way to their place, we popped into a cheese shop named "Chäsbueb" (which apparently translates to "Cheese Boy" and bought a packet of fondue mix which consisted of a variety of different cheese which had already been prepared for a fondue.  Back at home, Zubi and Corinne pulled out their fondue set, something they said every Swiss person has at home, and made the delicious pot of melted cheese.

As Zubi and Corinne prepared the dish and cut up piece of bread, I asked them whether there would be any other food.  It wasn't a question asked out of greed, but I more curiosity as I wasn't used to taking a meal where there would only be bread and cheese.  Zubi immediately offered to make some potatoes and vegetables, but once our confusion passed, he explained to me that this was indeed the way any family in Switzerland would normally eat their fondue.  No additional accompaniments, just the cheese and the bread.  I was more than happy to eat it the way the locals did.  It is a "simple" dish, but there is a complexity to the makeup of the mixture that doesn't become apparent to you until you actually start eating it.  Different people will have different preferences and there will be a variety of different mixes and proportions that can go into making the fondue of your choice.  We cleaned out the pot fairly quickly and it was fantastic.

Zubi and Corinne lived in a converted barn about ten minutes drive outside of the centre of Bern.  Zubi apologised to me for living so "far way".  The barn was in a field next to a small mountain.  It was unimaginably beautiful and I couldn't believe he was apologising for letting me see his incredible home.

The inside was modern and well furnished, but the history and original purpose of the building was still very apparent.  It had been a long time since I had been anywhere so peaceful and I fell asleep faster than any time I could recently remember.

Back to Zurich

I left Nader and Pinar in Abu Dhabi and flew to my next destination, Zurich.

I had visited Zurich before and I honestly never thought that I would be back.  However, this time I wasn't just visiting a strange city by myself, instead I was visiting friends.  For the past few years living in Australia, I had spent most of my time socialising with Swiss lawyers who were doing their masters degrees in Sydney.  I had met them all whilst doing my own masters and it was nice to find a group of people who were generally looking to explore Sydney.  It gave me a chance to go out and do some extra sightseeing of my own city.  Sadly, most of them were now back in Switzerland now.  The plus side to that I now had people to visit in Zurich.

My first trip to Zurich had been a quiet affair.  Sightseeing and wandering the perfectly clean and manicured streets of the city.  I went up to look at the scenery from all the high places and I caught the boat around the lake.  Everything was "nice", but it wasn't all that exciting.

This time, it was a completely different story.  I spent most of my time going out, visiting friend's homes, getting meals, catching up for coffees and generally just partying.  I very quickly saw Zurich in a different light.  It felt warmer and more welcoming.  It wasn't just a strange and cold place that I had once visited, but it felt almost like a second home where all my friends happened to live.  I'm constantly reminded of the importance of people when I travel and for me, this trip was more evidence of that.

The Emirates

I had been enjoying my time in the Emirates.

It was a very tourist's view I had received, but it was still impressive.  Up close, the development of the city was amazing, particularly given how quickly it had all occurred.

I really liked the fact that even though these were all "modern" constructs, there had been a determined effort made for the Arabic styles to be pushed through as well.  It may have all been a facade, but it still made the building feel like they actually belonged to the region instead of merely having been airlifted in from some Western country.

I sat within the food courts or the cafes inside these buildings, and I drank the coffees and I ate the dates.  There was a feint hint of the experiences I had once had as backpacker, even if only passing.

It wasn't Syria, but it was still nice to be back in the Middle East.

Snow in the desert

This is very silly.

This makes no sense and there's something about being part of this that makes me feel guilty.

But this was still an experience I wanted to try at least once.

I was skiing in the desert.  Not skiing on sand, but actually skiing.  Snow, skis, stocks and everything.

The complex is enormous.  You walk into the middle of the shopping mall and you walk towards a shop front that feels like the front of a large department store.

Of course, it isn't a department store, it's actually the entrance to one of the largest indoor ski fields in the world.

I went inside, paid my money, got my gear and went skiing.

It definitely wasn't the "best", but it was far better than I expected and it was much longer than expected as well.  There were two runs (well.... there was one run that was split in half) and it was a few hundred metres long.  I did my runs and it was enjoyable.  It had been a long time since I had been skiing, the first time I had skied since my knee reconstruction in fact.  Who would have thought that the first time I would ski again would in fact be at a ski centre in the Arabian desert?

At the end of it all, it just felt a bit wrong.  I was pretty much alone skiing, with only the occasional office worker coming in to do a few runs (clearly a European expat longing for home).  It all seemed like an enormous waste that was there purely so that whoever sponsored the project could tell people it was here, rather than for it to actually provide the benefits of skiing.  On top of that, the poor workers inside (who looked to be Indian foreign workers) looked truly miserable in the cold.

After being blinded by the whiteness of the snow, it was extra surreal to be outside again and looking at the endless sands of the desert.

Into the desert

I was tired from the long flight and the early start, but my time was short.  I only had a few days in the UAE and I wanted to see as much of it as possible.

After a lovely wander around the beautiful Shaikh Zayed mosque, Pinar left Nader and myself to go do some chores.  Nader had planned more fun for the both of us without telling me.  I'm generally a fan of surprises (the good ones anyway) so I was happy to go along.

He wanted to give me a true Arabian experience.  This involved first getting decked out in the appropriate clothing.

Once we had all of that sorted, it was off to the desert.

I have often written about my love for the desert and this trip showed me that nothing had changed.  From the moment I walked onto the sands and looked out into the distance, I felt an immediate sense of ease.  Deserts and snowy mountains seem to both share a clean perfection that I love.  There was something so perfectly calming about being out in the openness that completely relaxed me.   What we did was probably the opposite of relaxing though.  Nader had arranged a 4WD expedition across the sand dunes for us. 

We were taken well into the desert and I definitely appreciated being so far from anything man-made.  It helped me to properly see the size of the place, the feel the scope of the desert and where I stood within it.

It was a touristy trip.

But I didn't care.

We were even taken to a small training ground for falcons.

The birds were uniquely beautiful, and the location added to the experience of "authenticity" which was in reality completely missing.  It was a strange paradoxical feeling to be able to embrace the culture I wanted to experience in such a manufactured manner.

Maybe this was just part of my progression and development as a traveler.

I certainly seemed to care less about seeking out what many would consider to be the most "authentic" experience, and was probably far more concerned now with seeking out the most enjoyable experience.

Those things don't need to be mutually exclusive, but there is definitely a time and place for some of the more guided experiences.  They help things along and can give you access to an activity that you simply wouldn't be able to organically achieve.

As I sat on a rug in the middle of the desert, eating rice and chicken, looking up at the stars and drinking tea, I was full of appreciation for where I was.  I was in the desert.  I was in Arabia.  I was with a good friend.  Did it matter at all how I had arrived at the place?

Beautiful people in a beautiful place

It had been a long time since I had been the Middle East.  It had been a long time since I had been able to travel at all.

I had been given the opportunity to take some leave and so I decided I would make the most of it by going to visit friends in some far away places.  I was now in a better financial position than I was when I was younger and so I even made the decision to purchase less direct tickets so I could stop in some other places and visit different people.

The first stop I decided to make was in the Arab gulf.

The United Arab Emirates has done an incredible job at promoting itself as a tourist destination, but I wasn't convinced yet.  My personal love for the Middle East was driven by what I would consider to be the genuine or "real" parts of the region that I had discovered back when I was backpacking.  There was something about the shininess of the UAE which didn't feel completely right.  It felt almost like a theme park version of the places I had grown to love.

Still, I hadn't actually experienced it yet.  I needed to look at it all with my own eyes to be able to make a proper judgement.  This trip would give me the opportunity, and it would also let me see my old friends Nader and Pinar again.  Meeting the two of them had been one of the great (and few) highlights of my trip to Egypt and so if nothing else, it would be amazing to see them again.

I landed early in Abu Dhabi.  So early in fact that there wasn't a chance that they were awake.  I decided to stay in the airport for a little bit to give them time to wake up.  Soon enough, I watched the sun rise over the desert and again felt the rush of comfort knowing that I was back in this part of the world that I loved so much.  I found a taxi and before long I was at their beautiful modern apartment next to the ocean.  The only way I can describe seeing Pinar and Nader again was joyful.  The happy expressions we all had combined with overall excitement is something that continues to encourage me to travel.  Seeing old friends is always an amazing experience.

So now I was in Abu Dhabi.  It seemed like a beautiful place and I was now with my beautiful friends Pinar and Nader.  They wanted to show me some of the most famous sights of Abu Dhabi and so decided to take me straight to see the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque.

I had seen a lot of mosques over the years, but this was definitely on a different level.  There was a modern opulence to it that I was completely unfamiliar with.  Everything glistened and the white of the exterior almost glowed in the strong sunlight.  The size of the entire complex was also incredible and the grounds didn't seem to have an end to them.

Once we walked inside, we were given another shock.  The interior was covered with gold and other beautiful jewels.  There was an enormous chandelier that overlooked the prayer floor.

It was all very nice.  It was incredibly impressive.  Yet for all of this opulence and grandeur, it didn't quite impress me in the same way that other mosques had when I was young.  This felt big and it felt a bit manufactured.  It lacked the intricate beauty that was in the mosques I had seen in Turkey and Syria.  Those mosques were near antiques from a time long gone.  This mosque however was a modern construction.  As a modern construction, I couldn't help but think that it was actually overly simplistic for its time.  The real monuments of this era didn't look like this after all, they were the skyscrapers and enormous museums that were down the road.

It was still nice to look at though.

That one day in September

I write about Australian football a lot on my blog.  It's something very special to me.  My one truly tangible link to my childhood.  I still remember very clearly moving away from Melbourne as a child.  It was a devastating experience for me that I didn't get over for a long time.  I left my friends and the places that I loved and I found myself in Canberra, an unfamiliar city that I disliked intensely.  The people were unfriendly and I went from being in comfortable surroundings into some pretty unhappy situations.  Maintaining my "Victorian" roots was important for me and my continued support of Australian football whilst living in rugby league territory was a badge of that for me.  Things were different when I was younger as well.  Canberra was well and truly foreign ground for Australian football and there was no where near the level of interest in the sport there as there is today.  

Even today, the sport still creates a level of emotion for me that I don't experience anywhere else.

An important part of following Australian football has been supporting the Hawthorn Hawks football club.  They were the team closest to where I grew up.  This wasn't an instance of merely supporting some faraway sporting franchise because I liked a player or a mascot.  No, for me this was an old fashioned approach to sports that is often absent in the increasingly internationalised area of sporting interesting. They were my home town team.  

So in the middle of year, I found out that my brother would be moving to the UK.  I wanted to arrange a nice farewell gift for him, and so I organised for us to go and watch the Grand Final together.  At the time of organising, we both of course, had no idea who would be playing in this final game of the season.

As the season progressed and the teams slowly made their way through the finals, we became increasingly excited.  The Hawks were doing well.  They were doing very well.  When the siren sounded for the end of the preliminary final, all our hopes had come true as the Hawks had made the Grand Final!  I had been excited enough about attending a Grand Final, and so being able to attend a Grand Final with my own team playing was even more incredible.

On the other side of the game were the Sydney Swans.  I don't like the Sydney Swans.  Living in Sydney makes me dislike them even more.

I was hopeful of a win, but the Sydney Swans were a good team.  There were no guarantees, so I went into the game with the mindset that I was going to try and just enjoy the moment.  I was going to enjoy the experience of being able to see my own team play in the Grand Final and that whatever the result, I would be appreciative for that.

Before the bounce, the noise of the crowd lifted to a level I had never experienced before.  It was loud like nothing I had heard and yet the moment the countdown hit zero for the bounce itself, the crowd suddenly went quiet.

All of my fears and worries turned out to be for nothing as well.  By the end of the fist quarter, the Hawks stamped their authority.  The Swans were outfought and outhunted by a Hawks team that seemed intent on hurting their opponent.  As the game progressed, the gap between the two teams widened and the Hawks took complete control of the game.

I cheered and celebrated every goal and yet even in such a moment, I couldn't let myself get away too quickly with thoughts of victory.  Lingering in the back of my mind was still the thought that there could always be a comeback, there could always be a sudden change which would snatch victory from the Hawks.  It wasn't until the last quarter that I truly accepted that it was happening and the Hawks would indeed win.  As the crowd erupted in round after round of the Hawthorn club song, it was hard to think that anything other than a victory had been achieved.

It really was the best day ever.

Sunshine wedding

I feel fortunate that I'm now in a position where on certain rare occasions, I am able to travel just to attend a particular event.

I think about the suffering that my parents must have gone through when they were young.  Far from home in a foreign country, with the important events of friends and family all happening far from them.  Out of reach.  Only experienced when recounted to them in a letter or on the phone.  It seems strange now that when I have a friend in another state invite me to their wedding, I am happy to jump on a plane and fly over to take part in what is effectively just a party.

Still, as far as I'm concerned, it also presents another opportunity to travel.  Another opportunity to go somewhere I wouldn't have otherwise gone.

It was because of a wedding invitation that I decided to go up to Noosa in Queensland.  A good friend was getting married and she invited me to join in the celebrations.

I didn't know all that much about Noosa, other than it had long been known as a holiday location of choice for the rich and famous in Australia.

Arriving there, I quickly understood why Noosa was so beloved by so many.  It was beautiful.  But beyond just being blessed with incredible natural surrounds, it was also surprisingly high end.  The buildings on the main street were restrained and surrounded by lovely draping trees.  It gave the entire area this subtle and gentle moving light.

My friends were happy.  The wedding was beautiful and everyone was happy too.  Standing under a large tree, with lots of white wooden chairs, it was a picturesque scene that seemed to come out of a postcard.  It was simple, and yet far lovelier than many other weddings I've been to.

My friends, being the amazingly considerate people that they are, arranged for all of the guests to be taken on a cruise along the waters to the reception venue.

We were given a long and slow cruise through the area.  We got to see the sun slowly set as we headed towards dinner.

The entire areas really was undeniably beautiful.  I have no idea what people in this area do for work and money, but it's definitely a nice to spend your time if you can.

Maybe it's more of a holiday spot rather than a place to actually live.

A country escape

I needed a break.

City life can be a bit draining, particularly with the long hours at work.  The colder months in Sydney are also a drag.  It's a city built for summer and I've always found that winter in Sydney is a bit lacking in activities.

A friend from work owned a property in the country and offered to host a few of us over the weekend.  I wanted to leave the city so it was a perfectly timed offer.

His property was only a few hours drive away from Sydney, close to the town of Goulburn.

I was shocked by the perfect beauty of the place when I arrived.

The land was a lush green that I wasn't used to.  Back when I lived in Canberra, the countryside was mostly dead and dry.  It was the effects of years of drought and I had grown accustomed to a dead land.  Seeing everything full of water and life was something I remembered only from my childhood.

I enjoyed walking the fields and feeding the animals.  I enjoyed making dinner in the lovely quietness of the surroundings.

 But most of all, I loved the evenings.

When I closed my eyes at night, there wasn't a single sound to be heard.

It was perfectly quiet as I drifted off to sleep.