travelling light

November 15, 2025

Walking with ghosts

Increasingly people I have known for a long time seem to be dying. In fact my generation is steadily starting to disappear. Who is replacing them? We shuffle along in a world that is unravelling, a world – that for both good and bad – our generation gave birth to. We are teetering in a strange balance between building on the achievements of the past and desperately trying to dismantle them. In many countries, the current generation is poorer than the previous one, upending generations of dreams by working class parents and migrants for a better life for their children. In this time of upheaval – both welcome and unwelcome – creativity is needed like never before.

As long as we remember them, they are still with us

A few weeks ago I flew to Adelaide, where I spent my years as a young adult, to celebrate the life of a friend and mentor who died earlier in the year. It was busy, catching up with everyone I knew from years ago, and there were some scheduling issues. It reminded me of an old friend from my days playing in a short-lived but thoroughly enjoyable band there. He missed an appointment we had made and I asked him,‘don’t you write it in your diary?’ He replied that he did, but that he then forgot to look at it.

On the rails again

I'm on the road again – well, on the rails again at least. On Monday I caught the slow train from Canberra to Sydney, and today I’ve woken up in Surry Hills. I’m enjoying my days in Sydney – after all, I did live here for twelve and a half years. I’m mainly here to see the Yolngu Power exhibition at the Art Gallery of NSW, which finishes next week, but I’m also using the trip to see to other business.

It started badly when on the morning I left I tried to set the combination on the brand new suitcases I’d bought on sale and never used. The reset was a bit sluggish and I managed to lock the suitcase with everything inside it. Despite manually trying every one of the 999 possible combinations on the four hour train trip, I had no success.

When I arrived in Sydney I walked to a tiny down-at-heel hole in the wall called the Suitcase Repair Centre which was stacked with dilapidated suitcases of every variety. There they took five minutes to pick the lock by feeling when the tumblers clicked into place. They didn’t even charge me. I was hugely relieved – but it doesn’t make you confident about the security of your luggage.

Looking down on dire predictions

I see the latest report on looming climate change has some pretty dire predictions – like a future of four times lengthier heatwaves, up to five times as many deaths due to extreme heat, a massive drag on productivity, 1.5 million Australians at risk of coastal flooding and a potential half trillion dollar hit to property values by 20250 – and that’s just the good news.

But wait, there’s more. Add to that bushfires becoming too uncontrollable to be fought and coastal areas abandoned and all those climate change sceptics are going to be looking pretty sheepish, if not soggy. It will be bad for those who live near a coast – any coast – or in a low-lying part of Australia.

Unfortunately those swamped by the rising waters, with their houses collapsing into the sea or rivers will include both those who heeded the climate message, but couldn’t afford to move and those who scoffed at it and decided it was all rubbish, and they were staying where they were with their expensive (increasingly close up) water views.

Marching with the Nazis – as un-Australian as it gets

I’m still shocked by the marches and rallies around the country opposing immigration. Everyone involved says mass immigration, but it’s clear in practice they mean most immigration – and definitely all immigration by people who aren’t white, or as I like to say, ‘pink’. Here I am travelling through my own homeland once again and, at times, it seems like a foreign country – not because of immigrants but because of those who have grown up here. Those taking part in these marches probably have genuine grievances, but they have picked the wrong target to blame and, in the process, have been steered into becoming in effect neo-Nazi fellow travellers. We are (almost) all immigrants here, only just starting to genuinely come to grips with this country.

What is interesting, and heartening, is that – apart from the Nazis, who don’t want any immigration – no-one else wants to publicly oppose immigration completely. No-one seems too keen to be publicly associated with organising the events either. It’s clear that those involved sense that the whole thing could easily be on the nose.

Self-imposed lockdown

For all their faults and disadvantages there were some positive sides to the pandemic lockdowns. As I often say, ‘good times’ – maybe my memory isn’t what it was. I realise that I planned and prepared for so long to move to an apartment and now I am here, I keep discovering more and more things I like about it. I could stay home and read and write and never leave it, just popping down to the shops when I need supplies – perhaps it’s a case of self-imposed lockdown.

I liked previously living in an apartment in Canberra because it reminded me of life in Sydney – without the crowds and the rush. I had more practice of apartment living here than I realise, because I lived in one in Canberra before, but also apartment-sat for a while after I came back from New Zealand. When I lived in the previous apartment, I used to love the way I adjusted the blinds to reflect the way the light was moving throughout the day – it was like trimming the sails on a yacht in the sky. It feels the same here. It means you are always conscious of the light.

Where Canberra (and Australia) was born
Partly that sense of a new beginning is connected with my move to an apartment, where, as I waited for it to be completed, I always dreamed I could think and write with minimal distractions. Driving back from getting a blood test early this morning as I passed through Forrest and looked up to the hills behind, I thought how much I like this area – it’s where Canberra began.

My days seem full at the moment – half with social engagements, half with endless medical appointments. At least the medical appointments are about confirming that I don’t have anything (mainly), rather than uncovering things I do have. Living in Canberra I am mere minutes away from a hospital. Sometimes I think I moved here just in time, both for my own attendances and for visiting other people. If they had frequent flyer points for presentation at Hospital Emergency, I’d be flying for free.

Hanging around waiting to be assessed, you quickly realise that half the people in Hospital Emergency seem to be there because they play sport, the other half because they don’t play sport.

Recently my brother-in-law was helicoptered up from the coast – with a full medical team in attendance – after his motorbike hit a kangaroo, and he then spent a week and a half in the hospital – luckily we don’t live in America. But I'm in relatively good shape. Too many of my friends have been ‘having falls’ – at a certain age, you stop ‘falling’ and start ‘having falls’.

Veering between serious shit and chicklit

Amongst all this I’m navigating the wonky crazy world we live in by veering between reading serious stuff and what has unfairly been disparaged as 'chicklit', which is my latest obsession – but maybe it’s all serious stuff because it’s in a book, and what's better than a good romance anyway? I have gone back to the library and I have a column of books by my bed – hopefully they won’t topple over and crush my enquiring mind! I could stay home and read and write and never leave it, just popping down to the shops below when I need supplies. I step outside when required to go foraging in the local supermarket.

Life in the attic in a big public building
Life in an apartment in Canberra is like living in a big public building near other big public buildings. It’s ironic that we are living on what is described as the attic level, rather than the penthouse. In grand houses and hotels the attic is where the small rooms were where the servants lived.

I do go out for some reasons – coffee at the Saturday morning Farmers Market.

I realise that in my long working life I’ve had so many different – though linked – lives, all endlessly enjoyable. One of my friends from Adelaide once said in exasperation ‘Stephen, you get all the good jobs.’ It’s true – I’ve moved through community arts, the trade union movement, community radio, museums, Government – in literature, music, creative industries, museums and Indigenous culture and languages – and ended up helping establish the long-running DESIGN Canberra festival, now in its eleventh year. In all of these successive careers I’ve managed to pull off mighty things and been surrounded by people who I admire, respect and value.

Bringing down Higher Education
There’s a small personal footnote amongst all the vandalism occurring with Higher Education. It’s ironic that amongst all the staff it has sacked, the University of Canberra has lost me in its cuts as well. I was an Adjunct wit the University for eleven years. I brought a huge wealth of experience and skills and cost them nothing. I am a hidden loss because firstly they no longer had the staff to make use of my skills and then they didn’t have any surviving staff who were interested enough to notice that my term as an Adjunct was expiring on Friday. Adieu.

See also

Walking with ghosts
‘Increasingly people I have known for a long time seem to be dying. In fact my generation is steadily starting to disappear. Who is replacing them? We shuffle along in a world that is unravelling, a world – that for both good and bad – our generation gave birth to. We are teetering in a strange balance between building on the achievements of the past and desperately trying to dismantle them. In many countries, the current generation is poorer than the previous one, upending generations of dreams by working class parents and migrants for a better life for their children. In this time of upheaval – both welcome and unwelcome – creativity is needed like never before’, Walking with ghosts.

On the rails again – a trip about the past and the future
I'm on the road again – well, on the rails again. On Monday I caught the slow train from Canberra to Sydney, and today I’ve woken up to a third morning in Surry Hills. I’m enjoying the days in Sydney – after all, I did live here for twelve and a half years. I’m mainly here to see the Yolngu Power exhibition at the Art Gallery of NSW, which finishes next week, but I’m also using the trip to see to other business’, On the rails again – a trip about the past and the future.

Looking down on dire predictions
‘I see the latest report on looming climate change has some pretty dire predictions – like a future of four times the length of heatwaves, up to five times as many deaths due to extreme heat, a massive drag on productivity, 1.5 million Australians at risk of coastal flooding and a potential half trillion dollar hit to property values by 20250 – and that’s just the good news’, Looking down on dire predictions.

Marching with the Nazis – as un-Australian as it gets

'I’m still shocked by the marches and rallies around the country opposing immigration. Everyone involved says mass immigration, but it’s clear in practice they mean most immigration – and definitely all immigration by people who aren’t white, or as I like to say, ‘pink’. Here I am travelling through my own homeland once again and, at times, it seems like a foreign country – not because of immigrants but because of those who have grown up here. Those taking part in these marches probably have genuine grievances, but they have picked the wrong target to blame and, in the process, have been steered into becoming in effect neo-Nazi fellow travellers. We are (almost) all immigrants here, only just starting to genuinely come to grips with this country', Marching with the Nazis – as un-Australian as it gets.

Essen, trinken, tanzen – aber nicht rauchen
‘From time to time my posts on ‘travelling light’ include references to restaurants we have eaten at or enjoyable places we have stayed. However, most of my regular writing about food, produce, restaurants and places we have stayed is on one of my blogs, tableland, which I describe as: ‘Food and cooking land to table – the daily routine of living in the high country, on the edge of the vast Pacific, just up from Sydney, just down from Mount Kosciuszko’, Essen, trinken, tanzen – aber nicht rauchen.

Cooking minestrone in an art gallery – pineapple fruit cake, hot soup and art on a cold day
‘In winter my mind turns to food, but since it is never turned away from art, cooking and looking manage to fill in the cooler months – or maybe that’s all months. I haven’t made hand-made pasta for a while but I have made sushi and sashimi – though only once in recent memory – as I resurrect all my food traditions. Cooking, eating and cruising around art exhibitions – that’s winter for me’, Cooking minestrone in an art gallery - pineapple fruit cake, hot soup and art on a cold day

Winter markets in a creative city

'The winter we had to have (and could have hoped for) finally arrived on the Southern Tablelands. We have gone back to going to the Farmers Market every week. To add to the winter sun good news arrived. For over ten years we worked to have Canberra listed as a UNESCO Creative City of Design, part of a global network of creative cities. Finally the ACT Government announced that it intended to take the bid forward – and that it had allocated funding for it, the true sign of a government being serious. It’s always a pleasure to help initiate a worthwhile endeavour, but even more of a pleasure to look back ten years later and see that it has been a roaring success in more ways than one', Winter markets in a creative city.

Speaking in tongues

‘Where I live a statue of French maritime hero, La Pérouse, looks out over the suburb as though to say: this, too, could have been France. For a period it seemed everyone who went to school in Australia studied French. Perhaps it was a belated attempt to acknowledge how much better everything would have been if the French had got here first. As I like to say whenever I’m in France, ‘j’ai étudié le Français pendant six ans à l’école’ and I would like to have had more opportunity to use that knowledge', Speaking in tongues.

Looking down on birds

'While the world unravels and some gleefully repeat the mistakes of the past, life goes on in gardens everywhere. I remember that in the Roman Empire, if a change of regime occurred, soldiers, recognising that they were also farmers, would often retire for a time to their farm - until circumstances and duty called them back. Some wit commented that what is happening now is like the fall of the Roman Empire, but with wi-fi', Looking down on birds.

Back in the days when we travelled

'Back in the days when we travelled, I used to post news of my trips to Facebook, so my friends could follow my exploits overseas. For a long time it has been apparent that Facebook has issues, so back in 2019 I set up this blog 'Travelling light' to replace my Facebook posts. However, in the end I decided to stay with Facebook, so this blog was never used', Back in the days when we travelled.

Travelling light by being still

'As I've said repeatedly, I don't have any problem with flying, it's landing and taking off I don't like – and all the logistics in-between. I have few problems with lounging around for hours and on a flight, you get to sit still while people bring you food and drink. How much better does it get?', Travelling light by being still.

Abandoning the world of work

'When I left full-time work over ten years ago, I was asked what I intended to do. Once I no longer had distractions, like work – fun though it was at the time – it was clear that I would definitely have some time on my hands. I replied that I planned to keep up with my friends and to travel – when I wasn't gardening, cooking, reading or writing. It sounded like a fine plan at the time and as things panned out, it WAS a fine plan', Abandoning the world of work.

August 31, 2025

Essen, trinken, tanzen – aber nicht rauchen

Amongst the blog articles I write on my suite of four very different blogs are news and comments about places where I have eaten and stayed over the years. Some years back I started to post shorter versions of these articles as reviews to Google Maps. It was a fun thing to do, I enjoyed writing about places I had liked and it’s good to acknowledge the local businesses that help make our everyday life worthwhile. When I last checked I found I have a huge number of views of the articles and especially the photos – numbers that keep growing.

From time to time my posts on ‘travelling light’ reference these comments about restaurants I have eaten at or enjoyable places I have stayed. However, most of my regular writing about food, produce, restaurants and places I have stayed is on one of my other blogs, tableland, which I describe as: ‘Food and cooking land to table – the daily routine of living in the high country, on the edge of the vast Pacific, just up from Sydney, just down from Mount Kosciuszko.’

It has over thirty articles that I have written over the last almost 11 years – readers might find some of them interesting and useful. As a sample here’s a summary of a few of my most recent articles:

Finding myself on Google Maps
‘On my blog, tableland, described as: Food and cooking land to table – the daily routine of living in the high country, on the edge of the vast Pacific, just up from Sydney, just down from Mount Kosciuszko, I publish articles about food produce and wine, travel and exceptional places I’ve stayed. The blog is the longer version. Some years back I started to post shorter versions of these articles as reviews to Google Maps. It was a fun thing to do, I enjoyed writing about places I had liked and it’s good to acknowledge the local businesses that help make our everyday life worthwhile. When I last checked I found I now have 31 reviews with 47 photos and, according to Google, at last count views of the photos totalled 442,923 – crazy’, Finding myself on Google Maps.

Leaning towards Asia on a rainy night in the nation’s capital
‘Recently we finally made it to the tiny little restaurant in Yarralumla called Minima, where we sat at the counter and tried to avoid distracting the chefs as they got on with it. I suppose being a chef is like being a nurse – long and unusual hours, lots of stress and tight deadlines, difficult customers and high expectations. Avoiding distraction we ordered and then the world suddenly burst into colour’, Leaning towards Asia on a rainy night in the nation’s capital.

Very dangerous ales at the Milton Hotel
‘On a recent visit to the South Coast we drove to the tiny and attractive town of Milton for lunch. Milton is perched on a thin ridge, with hills and views either side and the escarpment towering in the distance. Unfortunately, like Moss Vale in the Southern Highlands – another favourite place – the main street is also the main highway. Cross if you dare. Once across, though, it's a place well worth spending time in’, Very dangerous ales at the Milton Hotel.

Washed up on the shore – on the roof at Bannisters Pavilion

‘A few weeks ago we headed down the Coast for a short break. Once again we found ourselves at Bannisters Pavilion – the cheap version of Rick Stein’s Bannisters Lodge at Mollymook, a bit more distant from the sea, but a bit closer to the ever-enticing town of Milton. In winter Bannisters have sales because no-one wants to go to the seaside – except those who live there – and we love a bargain’, Washed up on the shore – on the roof at Bannisters Pavilion.

July 10, 2025

Cooking minestrone in an art gallery

In winter my mind turns to food, but since I'm interested in art, cooking and looking manage to fill in the cooler months – or maybe that’s all months. I haven’t made hand-made pasta for a while, but I have made sushi and sashimi – though only once in recent memory – as I resurrect all the food traditions I used to observe when I lived in Sydney 25 years ago. Cooking, eating and cruising around art exhibitions – that’s a big part of winter for me.

Cooking minestrone
In the course of my life I have cooked many hundreds of pineapple fruitcakes. It’s a long story. Years ago, after finishing my Master of Arts degree, I found myself working as a wrapping machinist at Arnotts biscuit factory in the heart of the Western suburbs of Adelaide. One of the women I worked with came from country South Australia.

She gave me a recipe for the pineapple fruitcake, which I of course assumed was a traditional recipe from the country – like the South Australian classic, chicken cooked in Coca Cola. The other recipe I was given was for Italian bean soup, but I didn’t make the mistake of assuming that was from country SA.

My blogs

indefinite article: irreverent articles about contemporary Australian society, popular culture, the creative economy and the digital and online world – life in the trenches and on the beaches of the information age.

balloon: thought balloons for our strange and unsettled times – short, quirky articles about the eccentricities of everyday life, almost always with a sense of short black humour.

handwriting: homegrown graffiti from the digital world – writing, rhyming and digital animations.

tableland: land to table – the daily routine of living in the high country, on the edge of the vast Pacific, just up from Sydney, just down from Mount Kosciuszko.

travelling light: travels through life - through the neighbourhood, across the country, across the globe.