Valentine's day and all the trimmings

The shops are awash with red roses and cards, dainty little arrangements with snuggly little bears and puppies on backgrounds of hearts and red ribbons and I have, to my shame, written an article encouraging people to scrimp on the roses but splash out on the dinners.

Wandering through the shopping malls and perhaps being longer in the tooth I could see a side of Valentine, which was unashamedly sexy. Lets face it most couples are not just going for the food.

The end result a side to retail that perhaps I had not appreciated till now. Underwear takes on the most lavish, lurid and large sizes I have EVA seen as they say round here and I just had to share some of these with you together with a cracker of a joke from my friend Sarita, aptly combining my old Indian life with my Aussie present.

Bengali Bra


A man found a sales lady, and asked
' I would like a Bengali bra for my wife, size 34 B.'


With a quizzical look the saleslady asked, 'What kind of bra?'


He repeated 'A Bengali bra.

She said to tell you that she wanted a Bengali bra, and that you would know what she means.'



'Ah, now I remember,' said the saleslady.'We don't get as many requests for them as we used to. Mostly our customers lately want the Catholic bra, or the Jain bra, or the Parsi bra.'


Confused, and a little flustered, the man asked, 'So, what are the differences?

'The saleslady responded. 'It is all really quite simple.

The Catholic bra supports the masses.

The Jain bra lifts up the fallen & downtrodden.

The Parsi bra keeps one staunch & upright.'


He mused on that information for a minute, & asked,'So, what does the Bengali bra do?



'The Bengali bra,' she replied, 'Makes Mountains Out of Mole Hills.
 

Happy Valentine's Day everyone !

In Niki's light.

Two year ago today my eldest sister left us rather suddenly. We were wholly unprepared. We suspect she had some premonition, some of it reflected in her last paintings in Egypt and in the things she said before she left on this last voyage. We will never know.

The tears still well up but don’t spill so copiously as in those first months. Life is cunningly good to us that way. However much grief consumes you, life pulls you away day by day, almost by degrees, to allow you the strength to carry on. There is however never a severance because she spent her life investing in all of us and now comes the gain. Forever enjoying her love of nature, of culture and literature and lest I forget of course food. She shared all of those with us, a carefully planned meal of some special ingredient, a watercolour that appeared as if by magic on a boy’s birthday or my name day. Books overflowing from our father’s vitrine. Now no longer housing medical manuals and odd human parts in jars, but filled with collector’s copies, precious editions pillaged in the war from my uncle’s Famagusta library and painstakingly found in auction houses around the world which she bought back and looked after. Others saved from certain ignominy as she browsed the church fairs at St Paul’s Church in Nicosia where she picked up books for a couple of euros.  Even a book which I had accidentally given away only to find her returning it back into my hands with the treasured namesake in its cover. That is how perceptive and open she was.

So two years to the day she is lost to our physical touch but none the less present in so much of our lives, whether on voyages of her daughter drawn to places that held equal mystery and fascination for her, or in the writings and passionate embrace of culture by my middle sister, the collective efforts, nieces, sisters, boys and all in the kitchen to emulate some of her delicious dishes and the remembrances of special friends who had shared an event, a musical interlude, a day drawing in the fields or an exchange filled with insight, poetry and passion. My days in Australia are lived in this shared light of the continent and hers and long may they both last.

Two years

The end of January is upon us already. Two years ago we celebrated Republic Day in Delhi on the 26^th and a couple of days later jumped onto a plane to Australia. There could not be a greater contrast of past and present lives, brought home acutely by seeing President Obama enjoying the Republic Day Parade in Delhi as we did on the same day two years ago. It was a fitful farewell to such a great sub continent.

On the 1^st of Feb we will have been here two years. It’s a cliché to say where has all the time gone and even more so to ask myself what I have to show for it.

Am I over the honeymoon yet?

I enjoy the light in the country ( naturally and artificially) as on the first day I arrived.

I love the sense of community and civic pride. My neighbour Russell took my bins out last night thinking that having only returned a week or so ago from abroad, I may have gotten out of the habit.

There is simplicity to the way people enjoy their lives, a stroll along the beach, a few sausages or prawns on the Barbie and some cold beer. Not much standing on ceremony here even if Abbott gives Prince Philip a knighthood- a retrogressive step certainly for Ozzie politics and a bit of a demotion for the Prince no doubt.

There is an Aussie side which I love to hear about and even better experience. The cockroach races held in Brisbane on Australia Day, a place for even these reviled creatures on this continent.

34th Annual Australia Day Cockroach Races

The watermelon ski contests in the Chinchilla Melon Festival, their love of old things, be they cars or buildings and their care of heritage. Their increasing awareness of their aboriginal roots and what those communities have to offer. The cutting edge art and embracing culture like it was a daily vitamin. 

To be within half an hour of the ocean is bliss, to feel that sea breeze and to stroll along empty, pristine beaches an immeasurable gift. Wandering into the hinterland is equally enriching knowing the age of these rainforests and what surprises are to be found under the trees and rocks, the streams and the waterfalls.

I have yet to explore the outback, the red rock, the immense open plains and the endless vistas and I look forward to them all. What I give back? Feeling a part of my community and offering what insights I can. Blogs of beauty, quirkiness and reflection. Never enough but a sharing of sorts which I do whole-heartedly and engagingly.

I went to the market yesterday and picked up some tuber roses. A shot of scent from our past lives in Kenya and India. I gave the woman the wrong money and she corrected me – I said I had been away and needed to re acquaint myself with the money and she asked where I had been. I said I was in the UK, to which she replied, well welcome home. It felt warm and wonderful.

An itinerant fate

This is probably the longest time I have not blogged and it was not wholly intentional. I had hoped to blog about my time in Europe and my travels here and there but I found that I had little time to keep this up because I was too busy socializing and let me explain –not so much the party girl, as the girl with a cup of tea and some time.

And that is what I want to blog about today – the sheer joy of connecting with people not just on FB but across the table and in the living room and even in muddy fields. My travels took me back to the family, to my adored boys who have all shown me, in their own particular way, how much it has meant to them to have us for a short while by their side and to this I can add an amusing – well I am not really surprised, I have time to do the washing, cooking, ironing while they come in and out of hectic jobs and long days. To see family and celebrate weddings and significant birthdays in ways which are memorable and meaningful.

The chance to follow the daily news, to listen, as I wake, to Radio 4, to settle down at the weekend with the papers and a cup of good coffee. To take a walk on the Heath and see owners proudly walking their dogs, and pine for my Tara. To remember what it is like for winter to set in, with few hours of sunlight and that drawing in of the body and the spirit.

And also being able, because true friendships are a bit like that, to pick up where we left off, and I can truly say I have done that this time at the cost of blog entries, where lives intertwined for longer or shorter periods of time and where the words flowed once more as if we were in situ. So I have been back to my University, to Kenya and to Geneva and to Delhi with friends who are now in the depths of Sussex or other parts of the English countryside. I have walked with my women of the IWCN, my women’s club in Geneva, and visited venerable writers and commentators, old, old friends who are still getting the maximum out of life at every juncture. I have traversed fields with mud and cows and counted buzzards on the motorways of France and I have felt throughout the joy of knowing that my life has been enriched at every turn I packed and unpacked my home.

Christmas Lights and the Spirit of Christmas

Living in the sub tropics the spirit of Xmas is slightly more elusive, so when I joined a friend on a tour of Christmas Lights in the northern suburbs of Brisbane I was not sure of what to expect and was very pleasantly surprised.

Firstly because the bus we went on sporting the title of “Christmas Lights”, was decorated from top to bottom with garlands, koala bears, snowflakes and tinsel. What a festive bus it was.

Then off we went on the tour of the northern suburbs and the houses and churches we saw were dazzling and expelling an aura of festiveness all around totally in the spirit of the season.To cap it all the lovely visit of a great Santa carrying sweets for everyone. 

Here are a few for you:

 Love the kangaroos and the water dragons and the koalas with the snowman's hat on.

The lovely houses, places of worship, or warm family homes. 

It remains for me to wish you all a very merry Xmas, a wonderful new year, one with more peace and more tranquility for all, more justice and fairness in the world, happiness and health in abundance with some wealth thrown in for good measure. 

Pulled back from extinction

The history of Lord Howe would not be complete if I didn't mention the creatures that they literally saved from extinction. A rather brown, fairly unprepossessing bird called the woodhen - a flightless bird which was endemic to the island. But because it was flightless and because settlement meant the introduction of feral pigs and cats the population of wood hens dropped to about 15 in the 1980s. That is when they started a concerted programme for breeding it in captivity to increase its population and they have done this successfully to the point where woodhens can be seen in the fields and forests now on the island. We found them twice, once in the forest - we had placed a bet of a million euros on who was going to spot one first and I won, and once in the fields- drinks for everyone at the bar next time we meet. 

These mutton birds make burrows in the ground and can be seen almost crash landing at dusk as they come in to feed their young.

But it not just the birds - the Phasmid-a stick insect to you and me that was thought to be extinct in the 1920s and was found on the stack of Ball's Pyramid 23kms from Lord Howe- the highest stack in the Ocean.  They mate for life - the males follow the females around and their life is dictated by what she does. They seem to have the right idea ! Several pairs were bred in Melbourne Zoo and David Attenborough is a fan !

The Sea birds - the Petrels and the Shearwaters, also known as Mutton Birds, the Masked Booby and the Red tailed Tropic bird, I have already blogged about the beautiful terns and then there are the Noddy birds. All plentiful on the islands beaches coming in to lay their eggs and raise their young. 

 The noddies nest in the branches of the big Norfolk pines and have beautiful silvery heads.

The gaily coloured Emerald doves are all over the island.

The fish are plentiful - near you, under you, circling around you. Loved the blue and violet corals, the swishing sea grass, the double headed wrasse, the blue star fish, the angel fish, the tunas, the shimmery sword fish. Didnt love the galapagos sharks that were also swimming round and had the nasty habit of circling round just as you had caught them in the corner of your foggy eye. I was reassured they were "friendly"

The sweet lips that need feeding, the sheer abundance of nature over humans and long may it be that way, makes the island a place of complete sanctuary for all. My story is complete with the finding of the heart urchins, these sand hidden creatures that live a gentle covered life until they are no more and they are washed onto the shore, slowly turn white in the sun to reveal the beautiful stars on their backs a sure sign that Xmas is round the corner. 

Bikes and Hikes

Plentiful on both scores and good fun. The island has a few well frequented roads and even more paths in the pristine forests. The walks are all graded from Class 1-6 so you need to chose them carefully depending on your fitness level. The highest is Mount Gower at 875 metres and then Mt Ligbird at 777 metres.

We decided to go half way up to the Goats House Cave, a Class 4 walk, on Mount Ligbird via Transit Hill with some memorable views of the island - the forests are full of ferns and kentia palms, the biggest banyans I have seen, delicate orchids and wedding lilies- some 86% of the plants are found nowhere else. There is always something to see and admire along the paths, the startling cliffs, the birdlife, the flowers and scents. A pair of currawongs singing sweetly.  

The immense banyans with their aerial roots spreading over huge areas.

We climbed to the forest edge on Mount Ligbird together and C climbed Mount Gower with a walking group the following day. 

The view from where we climbed

For the last part of this walk we relied on ropes to pull ourselves up.