Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Eloise zooms in






Our fourth grandchild the beautiful Eloise, takes after her mum in beauty and is almost bald, just like her dad!!
An easy labour and a breeze ever since, as a daughter and grand child she gets full marks. And her big sister Safie makes sure that Eloise gets the attention she deserves, and that mummy gets all the help she can!










































Yes folks Cara says that Blatz is the go, or Blitz as she calls it!!


What else bin happening? Busy as usual. Trips to Melbourne, Nowra/ Mollymook twice, Corowa.
Denise and I had a great weekend with Vince and Christine Smith at picturesque Mollymook, then returned for our 35th wedding anniversary! Dinner at Rick Stein's restaurant, Bannisters.






A perfect location on the cliff overlooking bush and the ocean, an excellent menu and friendly helpful service. I enjoyed plump rich oysters from St Helens, and Denise's entree, a lobster 'raviolo' with spinach and basil sauce, was ''just delicious!'' We shared a huge cold seafood platter of prawns, oysters, mussels, crab and lobster, not forgetting the shy periwinkles.

In between courses we were given complimentary treats, savoury and sweet. The desert was superb and coffee and brandy pour moi was perfectment! The bottle of Spanish white wine was moreish, if not moorish. We will return.

The recent rains have filled Canberra dams, from 38% earlier in the year. The countryside and Canberra itself are festooned with new growth and flowers. Check out Denise's absolutely fab Spring flowers on our Picasa site

Cheap books can be found at the Milton antique store, near Rick Stein's, together with all sorts of interesting objects d'arts. In Canberra we have the best second hand bookshops in the country, and I rate Cantys as the best for reasonably priced, quality books, however you can find a bargain anywhere.

Books read recently include:
Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel, the 2009 Man Booker winner about Thomas Cromwell and Cardinal Wolsey coping with HenryVIII. I found it interesting in that her depiction of their characters differs from traditional readings. It is historical fiction and you can paint the colours in as you see them I guess. An enjoyable read, albeit idiosyncratic.

A Long Long Way by Irish author Sebastian Barry. A poetic book about a Dublin Fusilier in WW1, hated by the Home Rulers in his own country and mistrusted by the English, despite their huge sacrifice. A tragedy, and a terrible beauty.

The Blackwater Lightship by Colm Toibin. Again, a tale of sad beauty, perfectly written. Language to light the senses.


I finally got around to reading Robert Graves' autobiographical account of his life at boarding school and his service in WW1, Goodbye To All That, renowned as being one of the best accounts. A great read, the prose of poet Graves is so natural and fluid.

A Thousand Splendid Sons by Khaled Hosseini is an engrossing, exciting read. If you want insight to the Afghani situation with its warring tribal factions you should read this account. But much more, it is a story of friendship, love and human tragedy. Not to be missed!

Hellfire by Nick Tosches is a fascinating insight into rock 'n roller Jerry Lee Lewis. In dirt farming Ferriday the poor were succoured by the Holy Ghost and the Hidden Hooch, and enticed by the Lure of The Devil, and you were hot or cold, never lukewarm, and Jerry Lee became seduced by the Whore of Fame. I have posted a review on Amazon.

What's new musically?

The Steeldrivers

I came to the Steeldrivers through Mike Henderson's Bluebloods, a fabulous blues band which issued ''First Blood'' and ''Thicker Than Water'' in the late 1990s. Solos from Henderson's guitar and John Jarvis' piano always surprised and were never clichéd like so many others, and this from Nashville session musos! So, I checked Amazon recently to see if the Bluebloods had issued another album, and I found that Henderson had formed a rootsy bluegrass unit called The Steeldrivers. Soon after I found an excellent Rounder compilation called Sinner's Prayer and The Steeldrivers track ''If It Hadn't Been For Love'' was in the prime second spot. I was impressed. Then, while down in Melbourne I found their initial CD in a second hand store, I couldn't believe my luck. So I ordered Reckless through Amazon and I've been listening to it for a couple of weeks. In short, it resonates. It has power depth and soul. It is organic, unpretentious, light years from slick Nashville sounds and it is encouraging to note that the group is based there. I have posted a review on Amazon.

What else? I was blessed to see Leonard Cohen at a vineyard in Bowral, an incandescent night in 2008. A glass of sauvignon blanc with Leonard and friends among the eucalypts - there is nothing in life to compare, almost. I only regret that we didn't get to see him at Woodend recently. But, for consolation, you can buy his Live in London DVD or CD, or the recently released Songs From The Road, DVD and CD for a pittance - the Aussie dollar is fluffing its fandango.

Two bargains I found recently are Linda Thompson's Fashionably Late (2002) and Graham Parker's Struck By Lightening (2004). I found Linda's CD at The Salvos for $3. What?? Brand new. How did it get there? You don't hock goods at the Salvos. I assume someone died and whoever was dealing with the estate had no idea of the worth. Songs are written by Linda or Teddy Thompson and accompanied by ex hubby Richard, Martha and Rufus Wainwright, their parents the McGarrigles, plus the Waterson Carthy dynasty in fact all the cutting edge folk luminaries are there. Songs are tops. Parker's album I found for $3 at Dixon's Recycled in Brunswick St. My original went up with the house in 2003. A very good later Parker album. I was blessed again.

The Cds with each Songlines magazine continue to provide new and exciting music from around the globe. Others I liked are Electric Gypsyland remixes, Lucille Bogan's Reckless Woman, a 1920s blues artist who also recorded as Bessie Anderson/Jackson. I revisited Fleetwood Mac for my U3A group presentation, listening to the original Peter Green band - of Brit blues this surely was the finest. Also listened to Mac's last release Say You Will from 2008, minus Christine McVeigh, and it is surprisingly good, the band can still rock and Buckingham is as adventurous as he was in Tusk.

Tom Waits' chosen tracks for his Mojo Mag disc were eclectic but US music mostly - I was pleased to find Dylan's 100 miles/ I was Young when I left Home, also Big Mama Thornton's Ball and Chain, later recorded by Janis Joplin, but for me Big Mama does it. Sierra Leone's Refugee All stars release Rise and Shine is a winner. I reviewed it on Amazon. Hendrix's Valleys of Neptune is a welcome addition, all good stuff and at least 3 tracks close to being definitive, Red House, Hear My Train A Comin and Stone Free. His humour and sense of fun is apparent throughout.








Thursday, September 02, 2010

Faith

















The pond
struck dumb by drought.

ducks, dragonflies and frogs

oh the frogs...., all shot through.

The stricken face laid bare,

cracked and bleached like a dislodged skull.
It won't come back.
In fact
it'll sound down the country
like a creeping parasitic moan.



Now..... rains
beat out of a lusty sky
all flash and clamour

heaving

with such urgency

to jibe and tack

three days and nights,

the piracy of a damn fool flood

hissing and crackling and taunting

the comatose country

to... rise.

Rise up

you sleeping rivers and lesser beds,

I flush and swell your streams and creeks

rise up rise up

the sound of fortune sings in your valleys

awake and sail in my largesse

billow and bloom again

billow and bloom again

prettier than a piece of eight.


Now the frogs are back!!
The frogs are back

with their rat a tat tat
machine gun chat

Nailing positions
just to be sure,

just to be sure.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Perth, Freemantle and Bali


photos can be found on my Picasa site http://picasaweb.google.com/barry.mcgloin









PERTH AND FREEMANTLE


The middle class suburbs of Perth's north shore all appear newly minted almost artificial as you watch the many weekend joggers along the strand do their best for body and soul. We were there for Denise's Aunt Irene's 80th, great to catch up with people you haven't seen for years and we all enjoyed a lovely celebration for a lovely lady. The trammels of time......, but everyone looked splendid, and I'm sure they thought Denise and I looked splendid too!!



Marinas have rows of white yachts for sale, some close to $0.5m, there is more than a sniff of wealth here, if not an overpowering pomade. Yet graffiti near the long sandy beach warns that stabbings occur in this tidy splendour, which sped up my walk no end. We wandered around Freemantle's old streets, once the scene of hardship, larikins, looneys and the lash, now flush with the tourist dollar from markets to harbour. Ye olde Victorian and Georgian buildings have been airbrushed and gentrified, the former Lunatic Asylum now the National History Museum and former warehouses now part of the medical University of Notre Dame. The howl of the convict is echoed now in the howl from Ipods playing Freemantle's famous son, the diminutive but loud Bon Scott of AC/DC, whose grave is a National Heritage site and visited by thousands of fans. Poor bugger can't sleep.


The harbour is now spruce with piscatorial eateries and together with Geoff and Bernice we tasted Freemantle's No 1 Best Fish and Chips from the Italian restaurant which we all enjoyed. The next day we returned and had lunch at the Greek Freemantle's No 1 Best Fish and Chips, delicious. A visit to a second hand bookshop reaped some treasures but more expensive than Canberra where we are blessed with a number of quality bookshops (especially Canty's), which sell quality books at reasonable prices.






THE FLIGHT


There we were, the plane was chokkers, all aboard and ready to take off when the Captain announced that a ''technical fault'' had been found and that the engineer was on his way. Some two hours later we boarded another plane, well thankfully they were taking no risks. In the meantime Denise had phoned Taman Harum Cottages to advise that we would be arriving at least two hours later than expected. No problem, the driver would wait. The flight was rough, the plane bumped, buffeted and burped about in a bellyache sky – Denise had a number of cushioning wines. We eventually arrived at around 2am, found our driver and were into a familiar S.E. Asian night with its earthy, pungent aroma, mixed with incense and perfume, smoke and humus. Ahhhhh!!


Bali









THE ACCOMMODATION


I posted this review of Taman Harum on Trip Advisor:

We arrived at Taman Harum after 3:00am, walked along a path on a balmy night through lush vegetation to our two storied cottage. Clean and roomy, a large four poster bed both downstairs and upstairs, table and wardrobe, scattered artwork. The balcony outside the bedroom upstairs overlooks trees (possibly star fruit) and rice paddies. The cacophony at 3am is amazing, frogs, insects and what else? You are seemingly in the jungle, yet it is quiet inside. The shower is open Balinese style – nothing between you and lush vegetation, unless you want to use the screen, but we enjoyed the sensuality, hey.... tropical and exotique.


Breakfast is either continental, Asian or the full monty. Fruit juices are several and delicious, fruits, good eggs done to your liking, the bacon is good in Bali unlike elsewhere in SE Asia (the Balinese enjoy their pork), but the sausage has little going for it, toast, jams, tea or the excellent Balinese coffee. Music is ubiquitous in Bali and the soft liquid notes blend with the sound of water in the warm, (slightly) smoky, flower perfumed Asian morning. The staff are cheerful, helpful and friendly.


Taman Harum is located in the artisan village of Mas, which is 10 to 15 minutes south of Ubud and you can book the complementary shuttle. Alternatively you can arrange through the staff to hire a car or motor bike which we found a convenient way to travel, using the shuttle to and from Ubud restaurants at night. The swimming pool is inviting with its lounges, mosaics and statuettes and you could imagine yourself in an ancient Roman indulgence, but a Balinese indulgence is fine.




UBUD and getting around

Ubud is inland, about 45mins from the nearest coast, on the rise towards volcanic slopes. Set in rice paddies, vegetation and jungle but besieged by the traffic of commerce and tourists, you need to move away from the main routes to find peace. It isn't hard, even a walk down Ubud's many long narrow back streets will find discrete, well established and resplendent gardens poised behind ancient walls. The dwellings within, and often the walls themselves are a work of art, being painstakingly constructed by artisans. Ubud has an artistic heritage and there are galleries galore, of varying quality from what we saw, but because our stay was short we hired a motor bike and headed out off the beaten track.


The rented motor scooter cost me 60,000 rupiah per day, about $8 plus petrol. Out onto the great SE Asian grid of moving humanity you become at one with Asian Purpose, enveloped by Asian aromas of warm earthy vegetation, cooking, smoke, incense, humus and traffic fumes (until you move off the main roads). A great way to travel and in my list of Top 10 pleasurable experiences....

We have hired motor scooters in Thailand, Laos, Vietnam and now Bali so we are comfortable with it. The best for me for views and skill was around SaPa, the northern region near the Chinese border in Vietnam. Riding out of a valley climbing a dirt mountain road to find a water fall has eroded the surface to pot holes and then gun the bike so close to the edge of a drop was a mite hairy but ah yes, very exhilarating.


The Balinese are fervently religious, those we encountered loved to talk about it. Most, particularly in the tourist business speak English very well. Their general aim is to perform good works in order to provide descendants with the best karma. Each morning offerings are made to the spirits, both for the good spirits and also to appease the bad guys. Such offerings are found even in the middle of the road, at a crossroad, evil spirits reside everywhere. You see trees wrapped in black and white chequered cloths which represent good and evil forces. Statues and carvings of magnificent monsters are everywhere – the Balinese recognise and visualise the forces counter to achieving a good productive life, for instance, by excessive drinking. That said, the local beer Bali Hai is reasonably priced, of excellent quality and aptly named. Bintang is the brew from Jakarta, also excellent, and the noise you hear when the bottle top strikes the bin.


We travel north on the Denpassar Road then west toward the Goa Gajah, or Elephant Cave. The man at the servo asks ''German?'', then smiles when we say “Australian''. Aussies are liked here, despite the young yahoos who come in droves to the Kuta Beach area. The ladies at the stalls outside the temple try to rent us saris (appropriate temple attire) but we decline and then find that they are included with the entrance fee.

Holy pools and shrines Batman, the elephant cave is within a black gaping mouth, which could be either the earth god Bhoma, or the widow-witch Ragda, or perhaps a combination of both. Whatever, beware all who enter..... Inside the elephant god Ganesh is at one end and phallic emblems of the god Siwa at the other. Interestingly, neither of my photos of the gods came out, just a round glow from where the gods are placed, but you can see the cave sides and offerings clearly. Weird.


From Goa Gajah we step down into a beautiful gorge. Lush green moss covered boulders, ancient trees with tendril roots and a stream with lily covered ponds, exotic plants abound. We follow the forest path above the valley finding another temple, make a donation to assist restoration, sign the book. The somewhat slippery and muddy pathway leaving the temple descends towards the river and we are lucky to meet a young girl who guides us down. The path becomes narrow and hazardous, a slip would plunge you into the swift flowing river. Denise decides to stop.


The girl is confident and holds out her hand as we step carefully along the dripping cliff face to a bamboo bridge with a single guide rail. Needless to say I'm apprehensive, the bridge is not that stable, and I'm relieved to reach the other side. Here is a wide, low roofed cave, and filled with bats, so she says.


Her name is Wyung, the name given to the first child. She is fourteen and hopes to develop her English and become a guide. She is a lovely girl, open and friendly. Do I want to go into the cave? And disturb the bats I reply....?? Maybe next time.....On the way back she takes us to another small temple. There are temples everywhere. That afternoon I have a Balinesian oil massage. Wonderful.

Apart from Goa Gajah we also visit other temples, the water purification temple at the holy springs, Tirta Empul. Here the then President Sukarno holidayed in a large house overlooking the temple grounds and he allegedly used a telescope to spy on the girl bathers, so it says in our guide book. We also visit the 11th century shrines at Gunung Kawi. Pictures are on my picasa site.








Eating in Ubud

Our daughter Cara has visited Bali twice and was not so impressed with the local cuisine by comparison to Thailand or Vietnam, so we were not expecting much in the way of epicurean delights. But while we found little street fare by comparison to Thailand and Vietnam we were pleasantly surprised with the restaurant cuisine. Visitors to Ubud are well served by the number of restaurants but also the variety of domestic and international cuisine.

On our first day we had lunch at Miros – not Greek but local – barbecued chicken marinated in Balinese spices pour moi, Denise had a selection of sambals with duck. Excellent. A great start. Dinner the following night at Arys Warung, a stylish restaurant was very good – I had prawns as an entrée and pork because the Balinese love pork – Denise had duck. The waiters/waitresses were wonderful. We overlooked the temple complex opposite, the skies opened and no not a Balinese god but rain which pelted down and added to the atmosphere. You can check out their website


The third Balinese cuisine experience in Ubud was totally different. Masakan Padang is more a café with its down home Indonesian/Sumatran dishes on display in the window. No table service you simply find a seat, go to the window and point to your choices which are plated. We chose a number of interesting looking small portions, asked for chilli sambols and sat down with a drink – wonderful, in fact it so impressed us that we came back for a takeaway tea. Around $AUD5.00 for both of us i.e. all up. Wow!!



Opposite Ubud Palace is Warung Babi Gulung which is famous for its roast Balinese piglet. The restaurant was recently featured in Rik Stein's SE Asian series on SBS Australia. But alas the queue was daunting and we ended up at Ryoshi Japanese restaurant. Loved it. The sashimi selection was really fresh, as it should be but sadly not always, the barbecued selection was perfect, and the wasabi exploded! As Japanese food should be, clean, fresh sharp flavours, simply beautiful food and presentation!


How many Nyomen?

Nyoman is the name given to the third child, but it can also be the eighth child.

Well there we were walking in Ubud like a pair of tourists and who should we meet but Nyoman, a cheery guy who spoke English very well and offered his driving services, a day tour, wherever – cost around $AUD40. Good stuff. We said that we would keep it in mind, maybe tomorrow.


So the following day we booked the free shuttle from Taman Harum and on the way the driver asked where we were going and said that his good friend had an excellent vehicle and spoke English very well, perhaps we would like a price? So it sounded good and we didn't know whether Nyoman would be there anyway, nor the type of vehicle he had, so we agreed to the same price.

Well no sooner had we arrived in Ubud when we spotted Nyoman.... looking very cheery, he waved and we waved, but less cheery when another vehicle pulled up and whisked us away. The new driver whose name also turned out to be Nyoman said no problem, his friend.


All went well, Nyoman2 drove us to the temple, up the mountain for lunch overlooking the volcano and more temples, a coffee plantation and at the end of the day when we were all satisfied he offered his services for future drives. We said we intended to motor bike around the following day, which we did. The day after we were off to Sanur so we decided to contact Nyoman1 to compensate for having given the original drive to Nyoman2. But who should arrive to pick us up but Nyoman2.

This was odd. We thought we had used the wrong number but good old Nyoman2 seemed a bit miffed and on the way he asked why we had contacted Nyoman1. We explained that because we had promised (albeit loosely) the first Nyoman we had felt bad about given the job to him, Nyoman2. No problem he is friend, said N2, we work together. Now that explained the phone call.

So, going further N2 was happy to provide information about the religion which they live and breath and I asked why umbrellas were often seen with statues. Well here I had hit a mother-lode of information with N2 explaining the epic Ramayama story about the monkeys building the bridge and the Hindu heroes in full detail which went for most of the journey, about 45 minutes. We parted on good terms and once ensconced in Sanur we hired the motorbike again and organised a drive around the region. Who should turn up but another Nyoman. N3 was as good as you'd expect a Nyoman to be....


Support Police Superannuation


I have hired motorbikes, well motor scooters to be precise, in Hanoi, SaPA, Van Vieng in Laos, Chang Mai and numerous times in Ao Nang, Thailand. You don't need an international driver's licence (IDL), they don't ask for it. You sign the form which exculpates the renter from any legal obligation and puts your head in the noose if anything happens; you pay your money and take your chances. Some places ask for your passport which they retain until the bike is returned. I know, foolhardy you might say, but you take your chances.

(pic taken Van Vieng, Laos)

However I'd read about the police in Bali being stringent on the motorised tourist. I checked the web and one school of thought was that the cost of an on the spot fine/donation is less than the cost of the IDL. Another was you wouldn't drive without a valid licence in your own country, so why here? Well I didn't want any problems with the local police so I obtained my IDL from the NRMA.


So, we decided to ride to Kuta, the main tourist arena, a distance of approximately 20ks. A very windy day out on the highway, blow a rhino off a ride on mower..... a modest pace pour moi. Eventually we hit Kuta and seemed to drive around in circles in three lane roads chokkers with traffic, fumes and noise, round and round like a chook with its foot cut off.....a fly in Barnaby's head......, cockroach down a drain? Ok not the imagery I wanted but you get the drift. Denise being the impatient, well er...pragmatic person decided to ask for directions and so eventually we found the beach, and wandered around enjoying the sights. On leaving we were pestered by a persistent Nyoman selling share accommodation, and Denise's scratchy was revealed as a cam corder!! “Scuze me lady you won very special prize”....... We made the getaway and rode into the vast mass of motorised humanity.


Now, road rules when it comes to an intersection, according to Nyoman2, is ''who goes first gets there, unless someone crashes into you''. So, when turning I would ride on the inside of another vehicle which would effectively ''shepherd'' me from oncoming traffic. When the highway reached Sanur a truck was turning right and I stayed close but alack and alas it decided to make a u-turn, so I pulled up........on the pedestrian crossing.


Ok. I should have backed off the crossing and I failed to spot the nice policemen with the smiling faces. I could come to the station, fill out forms for a number of hours, wait around, or I could pay the 100,000 rupiah now. They had me by the Brindabellas as we say in Canberra. I paid. It wasn't painful, about $14, but a nice little earner for those guys. According to the bloke at the bike shop it is usually about 50,000 rupiah. The strange thing is that the bike's owner had placed an offering to the Traffic Spirit on the front of the bike. Well maybe it saved me from being undercharged....


SANUR

Our daughter Cara suggested the beach side Sanur as being more leisurely and elegant than Kuta. We had booked at Segara Village, a large resort which opens on to the beach. This was a bit of a splash and in contrast to the moderate country Balinese experience of Mas/Ubud. While the resort is tourist oriented it does maintain its Balinese identity with two temples within the beautiful gardens, plus the spirit and god statues and of course the cheerful and obliging staff – no Balinese Basil Faulty here. The gardens have been designed, as all Balinese gardens, in accordance with religious stipulations, and each day a priest performs a ceremony in a temple presumably to appease the evil spirits and praise the good guys. This about fifty paces from the jacuzzi pool where later in the day the cool Euro types wade towards the cocktail bar to the pulse of Asian lounge music.


Sanur is a centre for black and white magic, according to our guidebook, so the daily offerings are all important. Outside the resort along the beach pathway are markets and the ladies from the stalls take turns in trying to entice tourists to buy. They are persistent but they enjoy a bit of sport, a good laugh. We bought a couple of shirts from a lady called Coco who told me that she had been cursed by a person who was jealous of her family. She became very sick and called in an exorcist, in the end having to move house.


Their belief is fundamental to their life, much as it was in the old Scots/Irish Catholic black and white days when you were chased by the Devil – he was in colour, all black with a red hot tongue according to my sister Colleen..... - and his minions, and all his ''works and pomps'' beguiled you, and you prayed to the saints to intercede for you. You lit candles and placed them before the side altar. The priest swung the censer with the incense to signify prayers rising with a pleasing aroma to The Big Y'un, and to get up the Devils nose.


From what I've read the Balinese regard their religion as fun. The Catholic religion of my youth was anything but fun. If you chomped on a pie on a Friday and were hit by a bus you could find yourself shovelling shite for eternity. For an imaginative healthy youth the ever present spectre of sin was an onerous burden. One wonders about those pie eaters who were sent down the shute before the goalposts changed.


Again we used the bike to explore many back roads and lanes through villages. The countryside is is just minutes away from the coast, and villages following the coast south of Sanur are prosperous and attractive.


Music is pervasive in Bali, more so than other SE Asian countries. The player combos are called a gamelan, ranging from a duo to an orchestra. The instruments are plucked or struck, drums and strung instruments apart from flutes, creating a liquid, bell like hypnotic sound, which meanders pleasantly around your brain and around again. Segara Resort had a trio which played during breakfast, but they also had acoustic duos and fiery r'n b bands; there are some excellent musicians in Bali.


Music is everywhere. One night I sought a sound which seemed to be a muezzin call to prayer but turned out to be a Balinese Hindu preaching over loud speakers. Male groups were gathered in gardens for instruction and prayer. I walked through towards the beach past feeling like an intruder but they took no notice. Down on the beach path a reggae band pumped out rasta fare. At another beach restaurant was a solo artist. On the main thoroughfare an Irish pub jumped to jigs and reels. At other cafés and pubs crowds gathered to watch the soccer world cup finals. So much variety.


Eating in Sanur


Sanur earlier on was the centre for Bali's best cuisine and even now has some top restaurants, ranging from haute cuisine to the popular beach front blackboard fare. For lunch we sat out on the beach tables at the Beach Café, tasted their quick and fresh blackboard specials barbecued chilli prawns and garlic calamari, and one day I tried their steak sandwich – excellent! Mixed barbecued seafood on Jalil Danou Tarnblingan was very good and reasonably priced but one lunchtime we headed south on the bike to find the best Italian food anywhere at Massimo Restaurant. Their swordfish in garlic butter was just superb, the fish succulent, the sauce heavenly. Denise was in raptures over linguine crab, tomatoes garlic and chilli. Needless to say we returned twice, for their lauded Saltimbocca alla Romana and their Lecce speciality pizzas, both very good but the swordfish was the trip highlight for me. We also returned to Japanese cuisine, the Sanur Ryoshi, again very good but not quite up to the Ubud standard.


Overall Bali was an enjoyable experience, geared more toward the commercial tourist end of the market. The Balinese are friendly and happy and we felt welcome and safe there. There's much more to see, but perhaps after another visit to Thailand.
















Monday, July 19, 2010

The Fizz of Life


The Fizz of Life



The souls of the dead rise

like so many bubbles

in the fizz of life

a hundred each minute

but sometimes in thousands

and hundreds of thousands

and millions

say,

in an earthquake,

famine or

tsunami.


You'd reckon

at some point

one might suppose

within reason too

it might

get up God's nose.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

The Pacific Solution?




TOO RA LOO RA LOO RA LOO
They're looking for monkeys up in the zoo
Said one if I had a face like you
You'd be on Easter Island

Yes, sad indeed and almost incomprehensible that Abbott, like Howard before him, is appealing to base instincts in this election by promising to "Stop the Boats", turn them around and send them back. Abbott, a professed Christian like Howard, shows no compassion to those who have most need of it. The Labor Party's ''regional solution'' is also appealing to base instincts nurtured by shock jocks and poll politics.
Where is the leadership? Where is the recognition that this nation is bigger and better than this?

Monday, July 05, 2010

Jamie's 21st Birthday Bash


Jamie's 21st Birthday Bash was held at home on Saturday night, July 3rd 2010.

Ted and Carol Kenney dropped in prior to the event to see Jamie. Carol has unfortunately injured both ankles and walks with difficulty. James Twohill's parents John and Kim came as did Bernard and Alex Young's mum, Cecelia. Jamie really appreciated seeing all these well wishers.

Initially it was quite a blokey party with the ladies lobbing in later in the piece.

Le mob despite this was very well behaved apart from Jamie's father who attempted a speech from the height of the kitchen bench after a number of tequila slammers.

This attracted howls of derision, ''gibberish'', ''unintelligible'', ''I say Charles, I think he's a touch tiddly, what?'', ''get down ya mug''. In the end his long suffering wife Denise floored him with a rugby tackle and administered his medication.

Pictures can be viewed at http://picasaweb.google.com.au/barry.mcgloin

I found some words

fell from each other

to form a sound, a poem of sorts,

a series of sounds.

But

in the haze and din of the night-time

swim

they slipped away

being on loan for your

birthday

they did the bolt

the Harold Holt

but all that's left

is all that's best and

all I really wanted to say

is

We have

indeed

been blessed.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Byron Bay Bluesfest 2010

So here we are again at the annual report on the East Coast Blues and Roots Festival.
This year 2010 was the best ever. I must admit that I did consider not attending. I thought that the organisers were becoming complacent and taking the soft option - the choice of artists was becoming predictable and the lack of contingency in last year's deluge just topped it off. In addition the festival was moving further out of Byron Bay.

Well the artist announcements included some who clearly could not be missed, Jeff Beck, Dr John and Peter Green were old heroes but the crunch for me was Oumou Sangare, the Malian diva. Her CD Seya had been in the car since our return from the UK in June and it was my top purchase for 2009. And she was playing with Bela Fleck. But she wasn't our 2010 Bluesfest winner....
Our accommodation last year upgraded from tents to a house in Byron Bay – our family came up for a wedding so we opted for the additional expense. This year Len, Patrick and I were fortunate to share a house with Michelle, Niki and Annie, colleagues of Len. We were joined by Team Trevor for a couple of nights Trevor and Len are a Gold Coast Run team for 2010. A cheery boisterous group who viewed sleep with some disdain (except Team Trevor who hit the sack moments after arrival).
“I spit on sleep, said Pat at 1.30am after arriving back from the Bluesfest, ”it's an encumbrance, besides there's at least two hours of cricket on tv.....” After limited kip we were up and dived into a bright new day with a swim in the surging sparkling waters off Brunswick Heads, a coffee on the return journey then the Blues Brekkie on the barby, a fortifying start to the day. Tradition. Then Len was off to the pub and TAB to pick his winner. Tradition. Then a schooner or two to drown the dogs of misfortune. Or in Len's case gee gees. Tradition.
Slightly altered photo of Niki sqwawking alongside an attentive Len.
Now to the ratings. But before that I must put to rest some rumour that I won the snoring comp.
Pat reached eight on the Richter scale and Len was making noises resembling a pregnant hippo. And Niki one morning following an enthusiastic drinking and squawking session was cracking walls in the girl's bedroom according to Michelle. Not that I heard anything.



More photos can be seen at http://picasaweb.google.com/barry.mcgloin 



Thursday provided an enticing flavour of what was to come. The Avett Brothers was our first stop – a bluegrass group with great harmony vocals, intelligent lyrics from what I could hear, plus a dash of punk attitude and execution. Multi instrumentalists apart from the Japanese cellist whose expression evoked rapture or anguish, I'm not sure which, but he added an interesting dimension to the mix. Rating 9 Len 9

Following the Avetts we had two doses of prime Southern gumbo. The good doctor, Dr John, I hadn't seen previously and although almost in his seventies and using a cane, his voice and expertise on the keyboards were as strong as on record. The highlight for me was the eerie voodoo swamp song, Walk on Gilded Splinters. It was as if he had summoned the roots of his muse right there. He played two keyboards, an organ on his left and a piano on his right, sometimes simultaneously. A shrunken skull (or a child's skull....) was placed on a silken cloth on the organ. There were inscriptions on the cloth. An adult's skull was grinning on the piano together with other voodoo odds and bobs, alligator teeth, claw of cougar, penis of python.....who knows?
“We wanna thank y'all for comin on down t' see us” Rating 9.00 Len 9.5


The Good doctor and Len, both in appropriate crown and brim.



The second gumbo was Lil' Band of Gold, a band consisting of Louisianan blue ribbon players led by the tall C C Adcock. Crouching, with his guitar slung before him like a gun, Adcock stalks his music, spins around pointing his weapon at the next soloist or together with collaborator Steve Riley (leader of the Mamou Playboys) moves in on his prey – usually joshing the fabulous drummer vocalist, smiling septuagenarian Warren Storm. ABC Radio National's Lucky Ocean sat in on pedal steel, doing a fine job. Len bought the album, Promised Land, a studio recording which has the diversity of their repertoire but for me doesn't reach the live show. You might say “it's a studio recording ya wombat” and do you know what, you would be right.
Rating 9 Len 9

Leaving Lil' Band of Gold quite enthused we popped into Orquestra Buena Vista Social Club who sounded musically very good as you'd expect but not quite what we wanted to hear at the time.
Rating 8 Len's rating 7

Len headed for Tribali a lively band from Malta who he rated a big 9, then to Jack Johnson who didn't do much for him at all – rating a disappointing 7. I ended with Jools Holland & his Rhythm and Blues Orchestra – about 20 musos on stage putting out a very professional, slick selection of blues in various forms, jump blues, R'n B, jazz blues etc. All well done but cabaret for me, there was no edge to it at all, but the audience seemed to be enjoying it. Rating 7

Hat Fitz and Cara Robinson
Hat Fitz for me has always epitomised the core of the Bluesfest. This is blues in its most primitive and raw state. This is where it all came from, one man with a box of wood and wires and a voice full of wailing emotion, energy and power. This is where rock stems from, this is the Rosetta Stone.

Hat was chuffed at Byron, glowing in his new love.
A pissed voice kept yelling for Po' Boy. Hat responded “I'm no poor boy now, look at that....”, nodding significantly over to Cara. “ All those trips to Ireland, coming back with friggin' leprechauns, four leaf clovers [sic]. Look what I came back with this time....!!”
Together they sang Blind Willie's Delia, Cara adding flute. Holy shit. Where was the manic Hat of old we asked? The one with mad eyes popping, voice raging against providence, flailing his guitar like a beast possessed? Is this Hat Lite? Could there be such a creature.....?? What happened to Itchy – he's obviously been scratched?
OLD  HAT

Well, as it turned out what we have is a more musically adventurous Hat. Sometimes it works and sometimes it misses, but when it hits, as in their version of Delia when Hat actually sings with a low rich vibrato, or in Nobody's Fault but Mine when Hat's slide has such a delicate sensitive touch, it sounds great. Cara has a rich adaptable voice, she can sing Bessie Smith, sound like Bonnie Raitt, and can probably sing in the ornamented Irish traditional style, sean nos.

I bought their new CD Beauty and the Beast – Hat reckons ''she's the beast....'' - it is nothing if not eclectic. The addition of Cara's flute and whistle, plus Jim Conway's harp on a couple of tracks, Jacko (Jackson who else?) on fiddle, others on tuba, clarinet and cornet all go to vary the musical palette. Wicklow Feel sounds like Barney McKenna and Ciaran Bourke from the Dubliners, albeit with a hangover. It's a bit clunky in parts and I'm not sure whether it may have
been the fault of the bodrhain player. Perhaps it could have been ironed out in the mix. Euronator is flat out RL Burnside dance and it works! Backdoor Man is blues rock with great harmonies. Fitzmulholland is a folky hippyish instrumental, skipping around the fire. I think it points to a good future. Hat is recognising the potential of his voice and playing, and Cara's influence will hone his art alongside her own.
Rating at Byron 9.5 Len's rating 9.5

Ye Olde Brit Blues Blowers








I remember seeing John Mayall in the early 80s at the appropriately named Punchbowl Pub where drinks were sold in plastic cups, everything was nailed down. You had to arm wrestle the Gatekeeper to get in. And she always won. Mayall was supported by Mick Taylor and John McVie, I can't recall who was on the tubs – I'm sure it wasn't Mick Fleetwood. Anyway a fab lineup with Mayall pretty well in his prime, shirt off after a couple of numbers to highlight the rich dark Californian sun tan, hair by Charles blown by the strategically placed fan while he sang “It's a hard road 'til I die”. You could be forgiven for cringing at the irony.




Almost thirty years later Mayall can still put out a show which pleases the punters. Nothing real flash, he can still do Parchment Farm, All Your Love and other staples – the band was good, his guitarist a cut above, and yeah, it was a steady show. Rating 7.5 Len was more impressed and gave 9.5.




Peter Green's Fleetwood Mac is recognised among aficionados and critics as being the best Brit blues band of the 60s. Not only blues but pop rock – Apple wanted to sign them. The man at the helm was guitar maestro, singer and songwriter Peter Green. A hero of mine, I loved his stuff with Mac – check out the live Boston concerts, Greeny duelling with Danny Kirwan. A Mojo best guitarist ever list of the late 90s placed him at No 2, just behind Hendrix. Well those lists are always contentious but there is no doubting the man's deft touch, subtle and soulful, but his talent could also encompass rock, r 'n b and even the Spanish cante hondo style. And his lyrics always hit the mark. But Greeny dropped out for about 30 years before being coaxed back in the 90s.

The marquee was chokkers with those who wanted to see The Legend levitate, self combust, burst into fits of uncontrolled mirth or just play Apache. Surprisingly he starts with Oh Pretty Woman – a Mayall standard lifted from Albert King. He's seated and the poor old bugger is studied and tentative, his fluidity has diminished and he looks like a rabbi in a mosque, but you feel the audience willing him to succeed. After a while he seems to be enjoying himself. His voice has less strength but his singing is as soulful as ever. He did a great version of ''Dark End of the Street''. Crowd pleasers such as ''Oh Well'', ''Black Magic Woman'', and ''Albatross'' were there – the last without the harmony support guitar lines – presumably the 2nd guitarist could have played them.
Rating 8, Len's rating 9




Jeff Beck has fared the best of ye olde Brit Blues Blowers. His playing is better than ever. This is where Peter Green might be, had he not blown his brain with acid. Of course Greeny has said that he's only [sic] a blues guitarist, but compositions such as The Supernatural, The Green Manalishi, much of the LP Then Play On would discount his assertion. Beck is close to Hendrix's muse. A superb player, inventive, controlled, a master of his music. Great versions of Rollin and Tumblin, A Day in the Life and Somewhere Over the Rainbow – the only songs/tunes I was familiar with – must get his video Live at Ronnie Scotts. His support band was excellent, the young female bassist – an Aussie someone said - was a marvel.
Rating 9.5, Len's rating 9.5.






Ancient Black Blues Guys Who Still Stand Tall

The second time I've seen Buddy Guy and like before he astounds with his energy and skill. He defies all laws of nature, the guy, that is Buddy, must be at least 300 years old. Seriously he is walking museum, a timeline direct to Muddy Waters and then to Son House. When he was a sideman for Chess, Son House, M. John Hurt and Skip James had yet to be rediscovered. He was part of the young guns trio which emerged in Chicago in the fifties, alongside Otis Rush and Magic Sam. Listen to his complete Chess recordings for some of the best slow burning blues – but also jazz and pop! Listen to his later albums, Green Tea and Skin Deep - just as intense.

As a performer he is electrifying. His vocals and guitar playing are becoming stronger still, if that is possible – have you seen the Stones' Shine A Light where Buddy Guy steals the show? This is the artist so admired by Jimi and Stevie Ray. There is no other blues performer alive who has this street cred, pure ability and excitement. Astounding. 
Rating 9.5 Len's rating 9.5









Both Buddy Guy and Taj Mahal are no strangers to the sexual blues metaphor eg. I'm a crawling elephant's trunk etc Yet between them they have about 450 years. Ok my maths are crook, but somewhere thereabouts. Can they still get it up, metaphorically? Betcha.

Initially I thought Taj was a folky bluesman, educated middle class doing faithful reproductions - not the dark hard lived Mississippi blues which continued electrified in the Chicago tradition. But Taj is Mr Eclectic and has branched out over the years into various forms eg African, Hawaiian, Caribbean, gutsy r 'n b and this wealth of styles comes together in his entertaining performance. Blues has widened in its scope, you don't have to be a cotton picker to play it, or express its emotions. John Mayall would agree. You can polish your licks in a tree house in suburban Manchester. You don't have to blow your harp on a street corner to earn a dime. These are the days of the middle class educated yuppie blues person (YBP). Where are all the Blind Willies??  Or, for that matter the Big Willies and Little Willies? 
Rating 8.5 Len's rating 10





Bela Fleck's African Project feat. Oumou Sangare (and her band)

Banjo virtuoso Bela Fleck is a humble dude. If you thought he was the headliner here, as the advertising indicated, you would have been mistaken. It was Oumou Sangare's show all the way.
When I saw Oumou's name on the list of artists I had to attend. I had bought her last CD Seya in London last year and it has been in the car since then. Fabulous. Bela Fleck's African Project CD has Oumou on three tracks including the wonderful Djorolen, and they are among the best on his album. On stage he took a back seat adding his banjo subtly to the tapestry of traditional and modern instrumentation. I really enjoyed it but there were mixing problems which slightly marred the concert. Oumou's voice was fabulous as you'd expect, and she tried to communicate to the audience in French but heck, some of that audience would have been challenged in English.... 
 
Rating 9.5, Len's rating 9.5

The Winner Justin Townes Earle

Ah yes, you have all these bands with their gizmos and volume but all it takes is a voice, a hollow box with wires, energy and imagination. It was like watching Hank Williams or Woody Guthrie. A true line of tradition. He stepped as he said in his slurred diction from the plane to the stage folks,
this lanky (186cm - 6'5”), skinny guy with legs like poles and a body like a ventriloquist's dummy has talent, attitude, and liquor. He stoops, leans in over the mic, does his Backstep Hunch and Stoop, leans in again. We were blessed, though I doubt this son of outlaw country star Steve Earle would have put it like that. He also won our sartorial award. His mum didn't dress him. He said he and his dad don't get along – too much alike "I ever hope to hear, I am my father's son/ I've never known when to shut up/ I ain't fooling no one/ I am my father's son/ we don't see eye to eye/ and I'll be the first to admit I've never tried/ it sure hurts me, it should hurt sometime/ we don't see eye to eye/ I was a young man when/ I went down the same road as my old man.". But he said his good side comes from his mum “and I still see wrong from right/ cause I've got my mama's eyes”. Ex Drive By Truckers Jason Isbell backed him well on a number of songs, both puffing on ciggies and cracking tubes, like a couple of musos sharing a song, before we became so clinical.
Rating 10 Len's rating 10.














 The madness of gypsy punk band Gogol Bordello

Such manic energy from this NY gypsy conglomeration had the audience jumping like maniacs.
It was The Pogues on fast forward. The music is eclectic – gypsy with ska, dub, reggae, rai, punk, metal, techno, rap, flamenco etc etc. Leader Eugene Hutz leaps around like a fox on fire, he knows no boundaries, his energy is immense. Exhausting to watch, but exhilarating.
Rating 9.5 Len's rating 9.8 (wow!!)

Surprise of the Festival
10cc. What? Yup this pop rock unit from the 70s was the Big Surprise. Smart lyrics and harmonies, clever musical structure topped by the ability to effortlessly reproduce music which is light years away from Justin Townes Earle, yet although arty pop, still rocks with resonance. Well it did for us and the audience. To tell the truth I would not have bothered going to see them, although I loved Une Nuit a Paris from The Original Soundtrack LP way back in the mid seventies, but we were settled in the marquee and couldn't be moved. So. We experienced a sensational show. Tops. All respects to them, bro.
Rating 9.5 Len 9.8 (wow again!!)

Kev Carmody
Kev never fails you. He's so humble about his musical ability, yet his lyrics and delivery are passionate, his communication skills well honed. Kev sits down and chats away, it's like being in his lounge room – sure it would be no different. Well this time on From Little Things he was joined by his guests, a whos who of Aussie music including Troy Cassar Daly, Dan Sultan, Blue King Brown. It brought a tear to a glass eye.
Rating 9 Len 9.5

Rockwiz
Rockwiz ran for three afternoons with the alluring and entertaining Julia at the throttle. The show is great fun, the presenters, guests and audience all contributing to the carnival. A couple of the guests were impressive singers, particularly a woman from Adelaide – I hope they put it on TV.

Others:
Dynamites feat. Charles Walker Rating 8 Lens rating 8
The Snowdroppers 8 9
Joe Bonamassa 7 9
(Joe was technically excellent, but subtlety is not his middle name – too much flash and clamour for my taste, metal would welcome him but.....everyone else seemed to enjoy him. Maybe I should give myself a good talking to.....)
John Cruz 7.5 9
Narasirato Pan Pipers 7.5
Ozomatli 9
Renee Geyer 9
Galactic feat. Cyril Neville 8 8
The Flatlanders 7 7
Next year?
Maybe, if we're lucky...
Kings of Leon, Hazmat Modine, Burning Spear, Robert Plant and The Strange Sensation, Mike Henderson & the Bluebloods, Legendary Shack Shakers, Detroit Cobras, Sierra Leones Refugee Allstars, Ska Cubano, Salif Keita, Issa Bagayogo, Baaba Maal, Ba Cissoko, Martha Wainwright, Richard Thompson, Wayne The Train Hancock, Jo Jo Zep, Neville Brothers, The Pogues, Graham Parker, Little Richard, Chuck Berry, Daddy Cool, Buddy Holly















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