The Flying Pig

The fortnight Adelaide Staycation was up and it was time to go home.  The Floosie had thoughtfully given me a gift the size and weight of a small anvil.

But it is The Flying Pig.  I haven't been game to tell you before that my pottery pig crashed and broke.  It was not flying at the time but put away for safe keeping while the deck was being built.  The dangers of being kept safe...  This little pig sat on my hotel table during the many delicious meals brought in from the huge array of eateries around the hotel.  For a girl with limited cuisine choices at home, this was heaven.

I discovered the delicious banh mi at a side booth at the railway station.  These were so good and so cheap that they replaced my go-to of a fresh salad wrap at Subway.  I didn't try the iced coffee but have been told by one, allergic to coffee, that it is sublime.  Next time.

I packed Precious Pig, my sole new acquisition apart from a few kilos, left my bag at Reception and strolled the Mall to the library to return my books.  The library is on about the ninth floor.  I discovered a little verandah garden part of the library and spent a peaceful cuppla hours there reading magazines. 

Then it was off to get my bag and wait on Hindley Street for Willowa to pick me up and take me to the airport,

via Ikea, of course.  Another Flying Pig moment.  When Tamasin and Willowa were little, I longed to take them to Ikea and let them chose toys and furniture.  It was not to be, until this momentous day.  We spent a lot of time looking at dinosaur paraphernalia.

Home to The Flying Pig after 11pm, then enjoyed 4 days before Tasmania Health decided people who had been in South Australia after 8 July had to spend 2 weeks at home with limited social contact.

Which suited me just fine.

the deck is coming along

a Sentimental Blog

Sadly you can't Ditter in Adelaide the way we used to in our uni days.  Back then there were a number of their shops in the city and it was a daunting and dazzling experience to peruse the plump, jewel-like dried fruit.  I particularly liked the snow white coconut flakes.  Fortunately there is still Haigh's.  Not as colourful and more difficult to convince yourself you're doing something good for your health, but absolutely delicious chocolates.  Give me a marzipan bar anytime.

The banks of the Torrens have changed radically, but how endearing to see self-sown native plants asserting themselves.

I used to lunch a lot on the lawns beneath the uni.  I don't recall ever being threatened by a pelican.  In fact I don't recall ever seeing one near the uni footbridge.

Adelaide Uni has changed dramatically, though the buildings here seem like old friends.  The paths are new.  I assume the lights are temporary and for the Illumination event.  But maybe not.  I'll have to check this space out next time.

Old space, new event.  Adelaide Winter Wonderland, or some such, in the grounds of the Army Barracks.  Igloos and ice skating. I was tempted by the skating - a lake in Austria is still a dream - but with age comes caution.  How would I cope on my own in Adelaide with a damaged ankle?

It all looked a bit forced and tacky really, though it may be mesmerising at night.  Should you feel inclined,  you can hire a plastic igloo.

The adjacent Pioneer Women's Memorial Garden is far more dignified.  I think it is a lovely space and have attended Writers' Week events there in the past.  The rain made the garden very muddy to access, so I didn't.

And talking of pioneer women and dignity, Carla Zampati at David Jones, in honour of Lady Jayne.  I have to say that I tried a cuppla times to browse the shops but I find the overfilled racks of clothes distasteful now.  The clothes shops look like op shops in their abundant mayhem, and I feel swamped.  Ms Zampati's wares were a notable exception.

Had I splurged at CZ's, I could have joined the parade of red and purple ladies on North Terrace.  Have they also discovered The Guardsman?

I've also decided that DJ's has the best underwear and shoe departments.  Can't quite see myself in these mercurial little numbers.

More my style.  A Jumbuck parked near the Market - note it is a shopping trolley.  Steve so loved his Jumbuck that we called it Jolene.  Sadly he wrote it off in the rain a few years ago and Jill has never been able to be a ute dog.

I found the Central Library just off Rundle Mall and, with an abundance of irony, borrowed 2 books about Tasmania which jumped off a display table and into my arms.  Wild Island is a very clever story entwining real historical figures with fictional ones, ie characters from Jane Eyre and people from the Franklins' time in Tasmania. I am boggled at the research and imagination required.  I think the author says it took her 40 years to write.  Jane Franklin and Elizabeth Gould are key characters, shining through their shadowy place in history.

This one was written in approx 2004, after Peter Timms and Robert Dessaix had moved to Hobart to live.  It is a small book (which I love), beautifully written.  It's always interesting to read someone's views of somewhere you know.  I wonder if they still live here.

Never let a chance go by...  A table for one and a book at The Pancake Kitchen.  After spending time with Pearl, I couldn't resist the night time call of a 'stack' with maple syrup and whipt butter  - Adelaide in the 70s.  So many uni students worked at the Pancake Kitchen back then, and I've eaten a fair few stacks in my time.  Of course, they are nowhere near as delicious these days...  Perhaps I should have had the banana split - the guy at the next table seemed to be having a 'When Harry met Sally' moment with his.

And so, the last night in my city pad.

a sop for a stunned mullet

 Remember this?

Well, I had a request for a  picture of the dress I made back in the 70s.

Golly gosh.  Here it is.  Back in my Department of Foreign Affairs days - also known as Sweet FA.

And, sadly, upon reflection the fringed artwork is a little Abu Ghraib.

City Gal's gotta eat

As most of you know, I go to Adelaide to visit Mum, now in a nursing home.  Photos are not allowed in the home for privacy reasons.  I'm sure I could take a photo of Mum in her room but don't know that she would want me to.  When I show her photos of our trip to Wales in 2010, she's displeased with how old she looks as she strides across cliff tops.  A photo of her sitting in the chair in her room, which is how she spends most days, would not please her.  She seems content in the home, and I think she is well looked after.  She sometimes forgets where she is and asks me to 'go down to the bedroom' to get something, or asks me to get something from the kitchen, but this is a fleeting confusion.  She does have difficulty remembering things from day to day.  She looks forward to me coming over from Tasmania but largely forgets what occurs when I'm at the nursing home.  She is pleased when I go out with friends.  She is interested in them all and enjoys hearing of where we've been and, particularly, what we have eaten.  We share an enthusiasm for food and it is our main topic of conversation.

I decided that I would try for a programme of 2 days visiting Mum, then a day with friends or exploring the city.  Naturally, I did not always stick to the plan.  Thus it was that I saw Mum at Christies on Wednesday, finally pausing en route to check out this intriguing sculpture,

and meeting Pru for lunch on Thursday.

I had already been to the Central Market a number of times in search of provisions, but Pru and I always meet at the Market so we did again.  Pru loves the market and believes it is one of the best things about  Adelaide.  It seems to be changing from a produce market to yet another collection of eateries and she is concerned.  My concern is wider.  There are so many places to eat and stay, which must employ many low paid and casual staff.  Who eats and stays in all these places?  Presumably those getting richer from wage-slaves (jobs! jobs! jobs!), and rich pensioners like me.

market mecca for turkish delight and halva

breads and cheese on Bastille Day

Pru, her grand daughter and I slipped across from the market and ate in what I consider to be the new food court in China Town.  I was too absorbed in eating to take any photos.  We returned to the market proper for coffee.  I watched in wonder as Grand Daughter ate 3 macarons in a row.  I have never been able to bring myself to eat one.  They look so artificial.  But then I'm not 14 any more.

My next culinary adventure was with Pearl.  I met her at the tram stop in Victoria Square and we moseyed along to a certain previously mentioned favourite restaurant of mine, checking out my city abode on the way.

This time we were seated at the back of the Guardsman - a new experience.

Tempted as I was to have the Coorong mullet, I thought I'd try out the mushroom miso bowl - just as stunning as the mullet.  And so healthy.  Definitely something I will be trying out at home.

As we took a postprandial wander along North Terrace, the Pearl remembered she had one more church to find for Adventure lab.  Remember she was into geocaching? Well, she's moved on to the next challenge.

 

We found the oldest church in Adelaide, studiously read the information and then had to translate the foundation date into roman numerals.  I knew there was a reason for studying Latin at school.  Sadly I'd forgotten D = 500, which made 1838 a very long, and wrong, number.  But we got there.

We meandered back streets to return to Victoria Square and explored Light Square which I hadn't walked through before. Perfect day for reflections.

My final social gastronomic event was with Tamasin and Nima at the Afghani restaurant we visited last time.  I had lamb curry this time instead of the whole leg of lamb I inadvertently ordered last visit.  We shared a range of delicious goodies and then revisited the ice-cream / fruit juice place that makes the falooda drinks.  How I love this wicked drink!  I find it so mysterious and unknowable.  It's like being at a fun fair.

City Gal reunion

I visited Mum on the Monday, then had a hot lunch date with Fleurieu Floosie, formerly City Gal, on Tuesday.  The Adelaide Paringa was my choice of accommodation because of its proximity to the railway station.  I take the train to Christies Beach to see Mum.  The Floosie drives to Seaford Meadows and catches the train to Adelaide.  Of course we rendezvoused at the station.  In fact we are Adelaide Railway Station groupies and watch its renaissance with professional eyes as the former Arbiters of Taste in Bellerive.

I inveigled the Floosie to stand before this sign because it seemed so apt.

After surveying my city digs we jaunted uptown to the Adelaide Arcade - the original and best - and indulged in a very tasteful hot chocolate and macchiato.  Note we are sitting outside   https://www.adelaidehatters.com.au/ , a very long standing hatters and where CKBeagle bought very posh hats, the types you see in Australian Country Style.  Then it was back to the railway station and my current favourite Adelaide restaurant, The Guardsman.

shared garlicky bread, a sangiovese for me and a white for the Floosie

for both of us, an amazing concoction of Coorong Mullet - so clever and delicious

an espresso martini for dessert for me

some healthy looking cocktail for the Floozie

Doing the Seniorella thing, we headed for the Seaford platform before 3pm and travelled together to Seaford Meadows.  I took the return journey alone feeling replete and very satisfied with our day.

On being a City Gal at the weekend

I visited Mum two days in a row then took Sunday off to do urbane things.  In the morning I went to the Art Gallery.  I found the Ramsay Art Prize 2021 entries disappointing, so thought I'd treat myself to some Aboriginal art and stumbled into this:

I was bewitched by the upside down tree.

fell in love with this shirt made from eucalyptus leaves

love this work which makes me think of cows, and also reminds me of drives through far western NSW and largely deserted towns

some of you will recall my Margaret Preston phase and the copy of this work in our kitchen in Wentworth

I suspect none of you will recall the dress like this (but without the fringed shawly bit) I made in the mid seventies

And then I found myself in this gallery.  I was intrigued by the effect of the mirror placed between 2 rocks of different geology - a possible garden idea?  The black and white work you can see is on the opposite wall but reflected in the mirror.

For some reason I love this work.  It is paper with burn holes and scorches, but makes me think of the universe, the sky at night.  Having taken in all the culture I can in one visit, I had lunch somewhere and then set off for the Botanical Gardens.  I checked out all my usual haunts:  the Ginkgo Gate, the medicinal garden, the veggie garden, Diggers shop, but these are the images that stay with me.

the arbour, I think laburnam, with its string of lights

the bamboo grove, which I'd never walked through before, and the graffiti left by generations of visitors.  It is an artwork in itself.

The Gardens were being wired for 'Illuminate Adelaide' festival and there were strings of lights everywhere being tested for the big event - which, sadly for me, started the day I left.  I think it will be beautiful.  The City of Colonel Light.

To Adelaide: setting the scene

Just getting to the airport was an adventure this trip.  Because the road to Hobart, and thus the airport, was closed because of 'Rock Down', I had to catch the 8am (and only) bus to Hobart which traveled north to Swansea, across to Campbell Town, then south down the Midland Highway to Hobart - a nearly 4 hour ride.  It was, of course a pleasure.  Being a passenger on the Great East Coast Drive is the best way to enjoy the scenery and sea views.  I've driven across from Swansea to Campbell Town many times en route to Devonport to catch the ferry to Melbourne, but I've always wanted to just be able to look out the window and study the vegetation, and this time I could.  The section of the Midland Highway from Campbell Town to Hobart has been unknown to me for many years.  It's changed so much.  When did all the cherry farms appear?  A pit stop at Ross made me want to spend a bit of time exploring there in the future, and I got some garden inspiration.

My flight to Adelaide wasn't until 8.30pm so I had quite a bit of time to kill.  The library was the ideal place:  I could hire a locker for my bag, read magazines and go out for some lunch.  A choir came in to sing in the afternoon - if you look along the second from top shelf, you can just see them.

I got to the hotel in Adelaide just after 11pm and, after a few hassles re payment, found myself in the room above around midnight.  The photo was taken the next morning...  Not only was the window frosted it was nailed closed.  I asked if the window could be open and was told the hotel's windows had to be sealed to comply with noise regulations.  I said I couldn't stay in a place where I couldn't see the sky, so they let me look at another room. 

Heaven.  Just what I wanted.  It would have been perfect if the windows could be opened.  But I lived happily here for a fortnight, fulfilling my dream of being a City Gal.

view of hotel from Hindley Street

view from Gilbert Place, taken by former City Gal, now Fleurieu Floosie, some days later