Two seconds of fame – walking the talk for wellness

Even though I doubt I could live in Sydney again, I always become excited when I visit. We’ve just come back from a quick trip there – on the train this time. There was a tiny flurry of media excitement as we left because some upgrades had been promised for the train and the Chief Minister was visiting. The ABC interviewer asked me for my comments, so I waxed lyrical about train travel – my two seconds of fame.

People I have known for a long time and complete strangers
I know I promised my next post would tackle Queensland – the Killing Times, the Ballad of 1891, the Red North, the Brisbane Line and the Battle of Brisbane – all the good things, but first a quick report on my thoughts following a trip by train to our nearest and dearest, Sydney.

Passing under the Bridge, with all flags flying.

When we visit Sydney I divide my time between talking to people I have never met before who I bump into, and seeing old friends. At our hotel, the staff member on the reception desk recognised my New Zealand-designed Blunt umbrella – it was raining in Sydney and I’d brought the umbrella, my birthday present from a 2023 visit to Dunedin, rain capital of the Southern hemisphere. She had worked for Air New Zealand and they’ve all been given one.

Heading to Sydney on the train, we left autumn in the national capital behind.

I also seemed to find myself taking family portraits for people – a mother and daughter on the ferry and two sisters in front of the fountain in Hyde Park. It’s much more satisfying than selfies – in fact I’ve decided offering to take portraits of strangers will be my new hobby when travelling.

At the station in Canberra I waxed lyrical about train travel. Stepping on the train at Central Station to return home confirmed my feelings.

As for the old friends, one had just started at the Seymour Centre, after many years at the National Theatre of Parramatta, and another was on Lord Howe Island, so we saved them for another visit. Another friend, who had moved to the Blue Mountains, was briefly back in the city, so I managed to catch up with her.

‘I also seemed to find myself taking family portraits for people – a mother and daughter on the ferry and two sisters in front of the fountain in Hyde Park. It’s much more satisfying than selfies – in fact I’ve decided offering to take portraits of strangers will be my new hobby when travelling.’

I also hopped on a ferry to Balmain, where I had once lived, to have a long lunch with someone else. A mutual friend had recently died, so we thought it wise to get together while we, at least, were still around. She was off to Maldon in Victoria at the end of the week for a celebration of a life – such events were starting to become far too frequent.

Circular Quay on the way to Balmain - trains, light rail and ferries, riding public transport is my favourite hobby.

In keeping with the tenor of our times we went to a play at the Sydney Theatre Company drawing on Homer’s Iliad, harking back to humankind’s eternity of wars – of course, as yet another one dragged on. The lead actor, well, the only actor – there was him and a musician, budgets are tight – impressed us by reciting the list of wars and atrocities from memory.

Walking the talk for wellness
I’ve decided to become a wellness influencer. If every second person can be one, then I can too. In the spirit of self-help and wellness exercises I’ll be offering a series of physical and mental exercises to help us all adjust to the rigours (and stupidity) of the modern world. I did consider that the global pandemic might be an intelligence test set for humanity by aliens at the time – a test we narrowly passed on that occasion, with no guarantees for future occasions.

1. Debilitating condition: Watching 25% of the population become deranged and vote for Right-leaning populist parties with simple answers for complex problems.

Physical exercise: Lifting heavy weights on your left side to help you lean back the other way.

Mental exercise: Repeating out loud that we are not one country but two, going in opposite directions, one part into the future and the other into the past.

2. Debilitating condition: Rushing to deport all our immigrant talent and promote incompetent old white guys to take us back to the 1950s when nothing worked and everything ground slowly to nowhere.

Physical exercise: Shovelling extensively to help dig up replacement talent and bury any hopes for the future.
Mental exercise: Imagining what the economy will look like once these changes cut in and clever jobs and innovation disappear.

3. Debilitating condition: Anti-vaxxers and science sceptics taking over responsibility for health.

Physical exercise: Queuing for long periods for rapidly-disappearing vaccines.
Mental exercise: Reminding yourself that with the return of the old approach of developing immunity from disease by catching things – and hoping we don’t die – the best hope for the future of the planet will be when old age and death finally caught up with most of those over 50. As I have said previously, the Government shouldn’t have banned use of social media by those under 18 – it needed to ban its use by those over 18.

Other useful mental exercises include reminding yourself that the guillotine in 18th Century France and the machine guns on the Western Front in 1918 weren’t all bad – they destroyed rigid social orders that when all is said and done weren’t much of a loss.

© Stephen Cassidy 2026

See also

Horror stories for children – but wait there’s more

‘Horror stories for children– once there was a group of religious extremists that couldn’t fit in anywhere. They travelled to another continent and started to kill all the native inhabitants. To celebrate stealing their land the newcomers threw a feast called. Then they burned some witches and discovered slavery. It all went downhill from there. But wait there’s more. It’s hasn’t been all bad’, Horror stories for children – but wait there’s more.

Thinking twice – about everything
‘Any sensible person might think twice about travelling overseas at the moment, given that the US has been bombing Iran. However, I realised that there has never been a moment in living memory since the 1953 coup in Iran where the US hasn’t been bombing or invading someone, hasn’t recently bombed or invaded someone or isn’t planning to bomb or invade someone. Though, as one commentator pointed out, the last war they won was World War 2, and that was with the help of others. Maybe it’s best to treat it as situation normal, simply ignore it and get on with your life’, Thinking twice – about everything.

Cooling seasons and war in the air

‘The cool of the changing seasons is in the air and apples are on the table. For me the months of stone fruit are like Christmas – well they are Christmas, along with fruit mince tarts of course – but nothing lasts for ever. Luckily, though, it comes back again a year later. Right now what’s come back are apples. All the apples at the Farmers Market early this morning were new season. That’s good because war is in the air and we seem to be surrounded by things falling apart, so ongoing certainties are reassuring’, Cooling seasons and war in the air.

Stumbling over ghosts in an art gallery 

‘We seem to be creeping towards the colder weather. Still with the daily news full of America revisiting its 1953 coup in Iran who has time to think about the weather? In between catching up with old friends, we’d just driven back from one of my favourite spots in Australia – the Thredbo Valley – and now it was time to return to furnishing our home. Someone once commented that inhabiting a modernist house would be like living in an art gallery and I thought I’d like to live in an art gallery. For many decades I carted around some old silk screen prints from my time in Adelaide. We finally decided to get one of them framed after all those decades and cities’, Stumbling over ghosts in an art gallery.

I'm never leaving home again – well, except to travel
‘I’ve made a couple of big decisions. I’ve decided that it’s better to be a Chardonnay socialist than a Riesling reactionary. I’ve also decided that given the state of the world – despite all the good things going on that we never hear about, it seems to be balancing between mediocrity, incompetence and plain greed and lust for power – I’m never leaving home again…well, except to travel’, I'm never leaving home again – well, except to travel.

Guides to a fiery future – it was only a matter of time

'It was only a matter of time. It seems such a long time ago that we moved from bushfires to pandemic and watched as a wave of disease and stupidity swept the world and the country. Now the bushfires are back – the stupidity as well. Did we ever think they wouldn’t be?', Guides to a fiery future – it was only a matter of time. 

Sheep graziers warning replaced by heat wave alert – reading books, drinking tea and reading tea leaves

‘Today I popped out to get coffee and to visit the library, which just reopened after the break. They are the only things that would tempt me out of the apartment in this weather. Instead of the normal sheep graziers alert we get in Canberra, today we have a heat wave alert. Today is 33 degrees, then tomorrow is 35, the next day 37 and then Friday will be 39. Originally there were going to be three days in a row where the temperatures reached 39, so I’m thankful that’s changed. I feel as though I am living in Adelaide again, but it’s probably even hotter there’, Sheep graziers warning replaced by heat wave alert.

Lurching to a halt at the end of the year
‘For some reason Christmas reminds me of a play by Jean-Paul Sartre called ‘Huis Clos’, named after the French equivalent of an in camera trial or closed courtroom. It’s about three people who have died, locked together awaiting judgement in a crowded room for eternity. It’s the origin of Sartre’s famous line ‘hell is other people’. But it’s not the idea of hell that Christmas reminds me of, but the fact that at Christmas, especially on Boxing Day, the world suddenly lurches to a halt’, Lurching to a halt at the end of the year.

A different universe lapped by waves
‘The little city that serves Australia as a capital is tucked up in the mountains far from any coastline, even though in a strange historical quirk it actually has a coastline at Jervis Bay. Yet to reach the South Coast of New South Wales, below the swollen city where Australia’s official European history began, takes hardly any time at all. It’s much more drawn out heading down the coast from Sydney, through the great Sydney sprawl past Wollongong and beyond. The South Coast is an entirely different universe to the capital’, A different universe lapped by waves.

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.

Self-imposed lockdown – hanging around home

'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', Self-imposed lockdown.

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.