Cruises and Cruise Ships: Celebrity Edge December 23rd 2025 13 nights

Celebrity Edge

Staff

Overall, very good. Room steward was very attentive and helpful. Good sense of humour and kept our room in tip top condition. 8/10

Room

By far the best room we have had on a ship. The “infinite veranda” is a great concept and worked very well. One benefit is that one can sit right next to the glass while in the warmth (or cool) and comfort of the room air-conditioning, or open it and let fresh air in. A very clever technological innovation. On one occassion, I had the internal blind, that when closed darkens the room very effectively, partially down. When I pressed the open button for the window, the blind automatically retracted before the window would open. The innovations go on, as when night mode is selected on the control panel, all the lights gradually dim to darkness, allowing the occupant to safely reach the bed. There is also a discreet night light in the bathroom, avoiding the need to switch on bright lights. The bed is comfortable. 10/10

Food

We didn’t have a bad meal. A rich variety from around the world is available in the oceanview cafe at all meal times, and the various restaurants are also very good. 8/10

Restaurants / Buffets

There are four included specialty restaurants on board, and all are available on a walk-up basis. The decor is pleasant in all of them, themed across Italian, Greek, French, and “cosmopolitan “. The wait staff are excellent, and the same for the food. 9/10

Safety

We didn’t notice any obvious safety issues, and felt safe and protected most of the time on board. However, I made the mistake of enjoying a soak in the hot tub, and ended up with a skin infection that somewhat put the dampener on the cruise. As a side note, this is the second time I have been affected in this way, so I will avoid hot tubs in future. 8/10

Entertainment

Not always to our taste, but we attended events in the main theatre (spectacular design) and The Club. The choreography and house musicians were excellent. The headline acts were of mixed quality. 7/10

Enrichment seminars

There were some available, but didn’t attend them. Not rated

Communication

Ok… but not outstanding. Alex the cruise director was big on confected enthusiasm and excitement, something that tends to grate (with me). As I mentioned earlier I developed a skin infection, and the reception staff called me on a daily basis. They kept asking if they could do something (apart from booking a doctor appointment at USD250 a visit), and after a few days it really felt like a box ticking exercise. We heard breifly from the captain on most days, but such announcements were very bland and provided no consequential information. 6/10

Overall 7/10

Cruises and Cruise Ships: Carnival Luminosa 9th Feb 2025, 7 nights

Overall, somewhat disappointing compared to our last time on this ship. To break it down… 

1. Staff - overall very good. Generally attentive and tried to please. Very professional in all encounters. Score 9/10 
2. Room- overall very good. A couple of mark downs include the door handle to the balcony very worn and stiff to operate; the door between balconies rattling back and forth in the wind; and the overflow in the bathroom sink lacked a trim, which detracted from its attractiveness. Score 8/10 
3. Food - overall okay… BUT the cost saving measures taken by Carnival are questionable. 8/10 
4. Restaurants/Buffets - On at least three days out of seven, the MDR was closed for lunch, pushing over 2,000 people into the Lido buffet for lunch. I know the MDR was supposed to be open from 8:30 to 11:30 for ‘brunch’, but try telling cruise passengers to forego a meal because they had brunch. Score 6/10 
5. Safety - a major problem with this cruise ship are the tiles on the floor of the Lido. They are perpetually damp or downright wet. Although they seem to have people constantly mopping the tiles, and setting up floor dryer fans, they are still dangerously slippery. On last year’s cruise, a passenger was taken off in Guam and rushed for emergency surgery due to falling and smashing her kneecap. Score 6/10 
6. Entertainment - it is hard to know if it is the failure of the Cruise Director, the Entertainment Director (who was invisible), or more cost-cutting on the part of Carnival. There was literally just one good show in seven nights, and the quality of the entertainment in the various bars and Ocean Plaza was pretty ordinary. There were no string quartets or even duos, meaning the more mature customers were left with little to listen to as they sipped the nightcaps. Calling Deal-or-no-Deal or karaoke entertainment is stretching the metaphor. Oh, and while I’m at it, who thought it was a good idea to play soccer or NBA on the screens in the Ocean Plaza while a concert was happening? It is just plain distracting! Score 4/10 
7. Enrichment seminars - simply non-existent unless you consider the Spa a center of academic excellence. What a missed opportunity! Sailing around the lush tropical environs of the pacific islands, and no information about the geology, environment of habitats over which we were sailing. Score 0/10 
8. Communication - we were skirting and avoiding cyclones the whole trip. While there was SOME communication from the captain, it was perfunctory and minimalist. It would have been much more helpful had he been more visible and communicative about the situation. A seminar in the theatre one morning, with a question and answer session, could have been useful to assuage the angst from many passengers that felt they had been ripped off by not visiting two of the three advertised stops. And to shorten Noumea to just 5 hours smacks of a total disregard for their paying customers. Score 4/10. 

Overall, this cruise and its leadership scored 5/10. Our cruise on the same ship last year over 31 days scored above 8/10. We would need to carefully consider if we would travel on this ship again. One of the differentiating factors from our previous experience was a seven day on this trip compared to 31 days last year. Maybe the two types of cruise are different beasts, with different expectations. 

Cruises and Cruise Ships: P&O Pacific Encounter 29th Oct 2024, 4 nights

Overall, awful! 

1. Staff - At times, lacklustre service. Score 6/10 
2. Room- overall quite good. Score 7/10 
3. Food - overall disappointing. 6/10 
4. The specialty restaurants were underwhelming. The MDR had a low ceiling that seemed to amplify noise, while the food was ordinary at best. Ice cream anyone? Not unless you are willing to pay. Burger? Same. Pizza? Same. Score 4/10 
5. Safety - all seemed ok with no noticeable danger points or defects. Score 8/10 
6. Entertainment - overall underwhelming. A couple of good performers that popped up now and then in the jazz bar, but otherwise lacklustre unless you paid extra. 4/10 
7. Enrichment seminars - non-existent. Score 0/10 
8. Communication - not present. Score 0/10 

Overall, this cruise and its leadership scored 4/10. We would absolutely never travel on this ship again!

Cruises and Cruise Ships: Carnival Luminosa 1st April 2024, 31 nights

Carnival Luminosa 1st April 2024, 31 nights

Overall, fabulous! 

1. Staff - overall very good. Generally attentive and tried to please. Very professional in all encounters. Score 9/10 
2. Room- overall very good. A slight annoyance was the door between balconies rattling back and forth in the wind but quickly attended to by the room attendant and maintenance. Score 9/10 
3. Food - overall okay… really enjoyed the MDR food. Particularly appreciated the occasional afternoon high tea. Score 9/10 
4. Restaurants/Buffet - Layout quite good. Well laid out and accessible (with the caveat below in terms of safety). 8/10 
5. Safety - a major problem with this cruise ship are the tiles on the floor of the Lido. They are perpetually damp or downright wet. Although they seem to have people constantly mopping the tiles, and setting up floor dryer fans, they are still dangerously slippery. Score 6/10 
6. Entertainment - overall excellent. From the wonderful string duets and the solo or duet guitar/singers to the variety in the theatre, very good. 8/10 
7. Enrichment seminars - excellent speakers who provide interesting information about the geology, environment of habitats over which we were sailing. Score 9/10 
8. Communication - overall, very good. Captain and Cruise Director were clear, frequent and pertinent (and often entertaining) in the information they provided. Score 8/10 

Overall, this cruise and its leadership scored 8/10 - we would definitely travel on this ship again!

The New Year’s conundrum

It’s a very strange thing:

Each new year we stay up late

We stand in awe of fireworks

We engage in sentimental review.

And we make our resolutions anew. 

The same as last year, and the years before.

We somehow hope for a year ahead 

That is kinder, fairer, with greater leadership; 

Perhaps not the leadership we deserve...

You know, one that mirrors the collective greed, complicity, insecurity, licentiousness.

But leadership that calls us to greatness, and demands greatness from those who lead.

A year ahead less brutal than the past 

With less mayhem, murder, grief.

Less sadness.

Yet, we know in the depths of our being

We fool ourselves and others.

For it is the human condition to lust, hate, and maul.

To destroy the beauty of the natural world

In the name of progress, order, orthodoxy. 

So we will again, each new year, engage in the same pantomime of hope and disappointment.

And we will hope, for without hope there is annihilation. 

So, my friends, raise a glass, toast a friend, make your resolutions.

And join with me as we, together, boldly proceed into a future of which we can only dread and dream.

Power, money & politics (AKA Lies, Lies and more Lies)

The release of the Panama Papers and the excellent work undertaken by the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists (ICIJ) (https://www.icij.org/) stirred within me feelings of rage, resentment and resignation. Perhaps its my age catching up with me, or simply a growing cynicism about the motives of the rich and powerful - whether they be simply rich, simply powerful (e.g. a politician), or both - no matter if they entered into that condition with relatively pure motives or with evil. I think the latter could be exemplified by the big buffoon Clive Palmer who has begun to unravel recently (don't go graphic), or by even bigger buffoon Donald Trump, himself beginning to unravel - thankfully. Its harder to pick those who entered into their power or wealth with relatively pure motives, but I'd like to think someone like Bernie Sanders or - wait for it - even Malcolm Turnbull may be in that camp.

I have long wondered about the concept of inevitable decay and the way institutions seem inherently to tend towards corruption. I work for a tertiary education institution and over the past decade have observed how the stratosphere above a certain level of management seems to be populated by apparently psychotic individuals who are prepared to go to any length to achieve their personal ambition. This leads to a micro-managed, risk averse environment where the very things that a university stands for - innovation, invention, open-mindedness - are discouraged in case something rocks the boat of the particular psychotic manager within whose purview something may occur. So the very things that are supposed to make a place of higher education a... well... a place of higher education, are quashed to protect someone's ambition. 

But I digress. Niall Ferguson, in his excellent expose of the degeneration of modern institutions, maintains that the four key drivers of our modern western world are Democracy, Capitalism, the Rule of Law, and Civil Society. If these are the pillars of 500 years of civilised development, it seems that we may be witnessing the death throes of at least one or two - in what I would call their pure form. 

Churchill famously quoted an unknown author in 1947 when he said: "Indeed it has been said that democracy is the worst form of Government except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time...". It is my melancholy impression that this "...least worst..." form of government has been molested, corrupted and gamed for the good of the psychotics in our midst who would manipulate it for their own benefit, oblivious to the tragedy that befalls their unwitting victims. I cannot help the image of Clive Palmer coming to mind, but also at a local level, the flamboyant, reckless and apparently corrupt Salim Mehajer of Auburn Council infamy, is also an example of the gaming of democracy for their own benefit. Unfortunately Niall Ferguson is not enthusiastic about the prospect for renewing our "...least worse..." system. Perhaps he is old as I am am and has lost optimism. It seems the lunatics have taken over the asylum when it comes to democracy.

So what about the second pillar, Capitalism? While it may seem superficially to be "business as usual", over my lifetime I have seen a move away from what I would call granular capitalism towards a system that is far more ... shall I say 'chunky". Yes, I know it isn't a finely tuned theoretical construct, but this is a blog, not a dissertation (although it may be by the time I'm through...). What do I mean by "chunky"? It is the juggernaut of transnational mega corporations supplanting - even annihilating - the individual entrepreneur who was content with the corner store. 

It started with American corporations gathering up Australian and other parochial long-established companies like Victa lawn mowers, Golden Circle juices and Arnotts biscuits, and is now evident as European behemoths and, more lately, Chinese leviathans gradually pick off useful targets to feed their growing populations as well as the cavernous wallets of their owners. Kim Stanley Robinson many years ago wrote an intriguing series about the establishment of a colony on Mars, and the eventual terra-forming of that planet, fit for human habitation. I enjoyed the first two books in the series, but couldn't bring myself to complete the third, as it depicted a Mars that, while now suitable for humans to live on, was corrupted by trans-planetary corporations that didn't just control the government, but the daily lives of individuals. What had started out with such hope degenerated into a morass of misery. It seems to me that we are well down that road at a global level today, and the glitz and glamour of marketing does its best to distract and convince us that we have some control. 

No, I'm not clinically depressed. Nor am I a nihilist. What does gladden me is the faithful few like the ICIJ who seek to shine light into the dark and murky world of the rich and powerful who would like to keep their avaricious activities away from the judgement and condemnation of the community. More power to them and their ilk.

Ole blackie

When wandering through my files I found this poem that I penned in 2010. I'm glad to say that the feelings that are evident in the poem are no longer present. I'd encourage anyone who is experiencing similar feelings to seek help sooner rather than later...

Ole blackie

Why the sigh?

Why the sadness?

Why the darkness?

Despair.

This life is good!

This life is full!

This life it beckons!

To be more full!

But underneath he sits;

Underneath he growls;

Underneath he knows;

That I hold but by a thread.

In the midst of a crowd;

In the bustling city life;

In the noisy public house;

Aloneness.

A bright face!

A noisy laugh!

A witty interject!

A fancy act.

The darkness sees.

The silence hears.

The mute scream.

They know.

So energy expends

Work harder!

Smile wider!

Be jolly.

But Ole Blackie remains.

The faithful hound.

The companion of life.

My “best friend”?

Different days, different people

Friday. Janette & I intended to leave Saturday for a couple of weeks camping in her brother's camper trailer. The intention was to head west towards Moree, enjoy the artesian spas there for a couple of days and then to head north and see where we ended up. Note "the intention". In the middle of packing the car I recieved a telephone call from Southern Cross University. "Great news, your practicum has been approved. It starts next week." Gulp. A little horse trading and the start was pushed out until Tuesday. "Let's just do Moree". Agreed. "Let's leave now instead of Saturday". Agreed.

So off we set after a quick lunch. We discussed along the way the merits of trying make Moree that day - at least 6 hours; or just Glen Innes - around 4 hours; or just Jackadgery - around 3 hours. We decided the latter, and duly arrived at what can only be described as a pretty basic caravan camp ground in an idyllic setting on the banks of the Mann River, in the middle of nowhere. Did I mention it became very cold as soon as the sun set? Did I mention that we discovered we had brought a lightweight single bed doona instead of the larger heavy duty variety? Just on dark, along came big Mick. With tattoos, a face that showed its various knocks, and a voice like gravel, he assured us of our welcome and that if we needed anything we merely had to ask. So with baited breath I asked if he knew where we could borrow a decent doona. Without hesitation he immediately said "I'll bring one in a moment". In a few minutes he returned with a large, very warm doona and invited us to the campfire after dinner. We showed up at the campfire, we were introduced to other guests, and enjoyed a rollicking nights comaraderie followed by a warm night of sleep.

Saturday saw us return the doona, travel to Moree, where we purchased our own version of Mick's warm doona, and settle into site 42 at the caravan park. We enjoyed a nice lunch, and an exploratory trip into town. While sitting with a warming cuppa, there suddenly appeared two caravans with puzzled occupants. "sorry, they said, but we are on site 42". As we investigated, we discovered we were on the wrong site 42. Despite dropping some hints that we were all set up, and it might be convenient if we could just swap sites, the caravanners were insistent that they had right of occupancy on this particular site 42. We quickly packed up the camper trailer and moved to the other site 42.

There are a number of questions about this. One is about how a caravan park can have more than one site with the same number. I'll leave that for my feedback form. Another is how we managed to get lost on a caravan park. I'll work on that later.

What struck me most was how different the two experiences were. The first was one where someone did what they didn't have to do to assist us. The second was one where someone didn't do what he could have done to avoid unnecessary inconvenience for a fellow traveller. The first chap looked like he belonged to the Hells Angels. The second looked like a retired school teacher. It has been another lesson in not judging a book by its cover. I know whose campfire I'd prefer to share. May I be a little more like my new mate Mick.

Chine Southern Airlines - don't

China Southern airlines (CSA)

I returned to Australia from the UK on New Years Day 2013. I wondered why the ticket price was hundreds of pounds cheaper than anything else. I didnt have long to wonder...

CSA is trying to set themselves up as a serious international carrier... The following was written in the first 90 minutes of my first flight with CSA (Beijing to Guangzhou). While I was forced to complete my trip to Australia on a second flight, they will be my last with CSA.

Before we boarded...
Total confusion boarding at gate. Staff member called for another flight, & only when remaining waiting passengers - all European - asked about their flight were they advised to queue, then loaded onto a bus in minus nine degrees with 10 knot wind at each end of the bus journey.

Food

• Congealed Minced chicken balls with rice - tasteless
• Pickled diced vegetables on the side - unchewable
• A drink that was written in Chinese & gave no indication at all from the artwork what might be inside & appeared to have been filled under pressure as the foil lid was taut
• A random piece of dried apricot
• Tiny, tinny plastic knife & fork that were useless
• Featureless round white bread role - no butter

Beer... More diuretic than taste. (This indeed is an unforgivable sin on a long-haul flight...)

Entertainment
Monitors didn't work for safety announcement with audio only in Chinese, and afterwards played Chinese opera whether you wanted to view/listen or not (monitors unfortunately worked for this...).

Contrast
Previous KLM code share flights from Edinburgh & Amsterdam into Beijing had excellent service, food & timeliness.  CSA by contrast  complete opposite.

Danger!!!!
While serving food ... A passenger who was returning to her seat was blocked by the food trolley. Even tho it was only one row away from the galley, the male steward suggested the poor woman try & squeeze between the trolley and seats, rather than clear the way for her. Oh... And anytime the food trolleys are moving, keep your body parts away from the aisle - apparently CSA hasn't trained their staff how to move trolleys without crashing them into seat arms.

But wait!
Then we landed in Beijing, where the passengers were separated into those transiting (us), and those terminating. We were shepherded into an adjoining corridor, given a new boarding pass and a big blue sticker that was placed on your shirt, and told to wait (male Chinese staff member plonked it onto the chest of men & women alike...). Chinese staff member disappears and replaced by an armed security officer. Nearly 45 minutes later - without any communication in the meantime - we were herded into a bus & taken to another terminal. We went through immigration & customs, and we were then ordered to go to the... Departure lounge to await the bus back to the plane!!!! Finally back in the same seat I left 2 hours ago, and await with bated breath the next installment!

The Public House

Since arriving in the UK, I have joined Meetup (www.meetup.com/) - see the footnote for an explanation of the organisation (if it can be called that!). My daughter Annie suggested I look it up, and I discovered a whole host of different groups that use Meetup as a sort of hub to suggest interests, and find others who are of similar mind.

I've joined three so far. Some of my friends won't be surprised to know that I've joined a humanist group, a skeptics group, and (actually this might surprise a few!) a non-fiction book group.

Where do these groups meet? Mainly pubs. And since I've attended, I've become reacquainted with just why we call them "pubs". Because they are "public houses".

On Tuesday nine people attended the non-fiction book group, some having read the book all the way through, some about half way through, and some not at all. There was no supercilious attitude towards the non or part readers. They were welcomed for their contribution that fed off other material brought to their to mind by the discussion. 

On reflection, we seemed to spend an equal amount of time discussing the book in question (Daniel Kahneman's "Thinking, fast & slow" - quite fascinating in bits), other books that might be like it or better, miscellaneous subjects, and finally, and perhaps most importantly to some (not me, of course...), the merits of the "malt of the moment". 

Our meeting place is the Blue Blazer pub in Edinburgh. As I half listened to the conversations around me, I glanced around the room we were in. I realised that the previous meeting also featured the same groups of other people in the room. There was a group discussing a European film they had seen at the Filmhouse Theatre down the road; a small group of men were discussing fatherhood; and finally there were a group of young women earnestly discussing gender orientation and implications. 

All of us had chosen to use this "public space" in which to meet together to discuss ideas, support one another, and to develop bonds. The fact that social lubrication was consumed - in apparently responsible quantities judging by the behaviour - perhaps made the discussion flow more freely. 

I had been told that British pubs were different to Aussie pubs, and finally it has dawned on me how important these places are to so many people. Of course there is debate raging in Britain about binge drinking and over-consumption of alcohol, and those problems are evident in some of the local bars around where I live. However, when used in the best spirit (pardon the pun) the pub can be a "public house" for education and friendship, and a place to encourage new ideas. 

________________________________________________________________

Meetup is the world's largest network of local groups. Meetup makes it easy for anyone to organize a local group or find one of the thousands already meeting up face-to-face. More than 9,000 groups get together in local communities each day, each one with the goal of improving themselves or their communities.

Meetup's mission is to revitalize local community and help people around the world self-organize. Meetup believes that people can change their personal world, or the whole world, by organizing themselves into groups that are powerful enough to make a difference.

Contrasts

Second to the Edinburgh Castle, the Scott Monument dominates the centre of Edinburgh. In the two weeks leading up to Remembrance Day on Sunday 11th November, I noticed that the garden around the monument, was gradually populated with little crosses, each bearing a poppy. Each cross was reverently placed into the soft turf by volunteers, and every now and again there were signs denoting a particular area in memory of the fallen for a region, a battalion or other special group. Visitors wandered around the paths, obviously moved by the display.

For at least a week the air was filled with the sounds of mournful bagpipes as volunteer pipers busked for donations towards the poppy appeal (www.poppyscotland.org.uk). Bus shelters showed pictures of injured soldiers, kilts became commonplace, and even the homeless begging on the streets changed their cardboard signs to indicate they were returned soldiers.

The day culminated in marches, the obligatory minute's silence, and even more proudly-worn kilts and knobbly knees. I was impressed just how the spirit of sacrifice was observed, how seriously it was taken, how reverently people remembered the fallen. I confess I was out on the water at 11am that day, and too busy trying to get the jib trimmed just right...

Imagine my surprise the day after when I alighted the 26 Clerton-bound bus outside the Scott Monument to see cardboard boxes strewn around the grass, with those tenderly placed crosses being unceremoniously rooted out of the ground and dumped into the boxes. I paused in astonishment to confirm that there was definitely no reverence, tenderness or respect. They had done their job and it was time to dispose of them. I was, to say the least, surprised.

The following day, the bus I was on followed into town what appeared to be a fairground truck carrying a carousel. As the bus ground to a halt outside the Scott Monument I realised that the carousel truck was turning into the monument gardens ahead of us. When I looked further I noticed that not only was the carousel truck in the gardens, but that all the garden benches had been collected into a pile, and there were collections of panels, portable toilets, and more machinery all over the gardens. As the next few days progressed a massive Ferris Wheel took shape alongside the monument, as well as various other fairground attractions.


I was quite literally gob-smacked. All the reverence and care leading up to Remembrance Day was wiped out within a few hours and replaced with - frivolity? 

It has taken me a while to get my head around it. At one level it seemed something akin to sacrilege to treat the gardens in such diametrically opposed ways. I have come to resolve it as a powerful demonstration of what has been made possible through the soldiers' sacrifice: peace in this country, and the freedom and safety to enjoy oneself. I'm not sure what you make of this tale. Perhaps others will have perspectives that help me understand it further.

Perspectives

A week ago I was sailing on Sunday. The morning race was a relatively gentle affair with light winds filling our sails. The afternoon saw the winds almost completely die off, and the race became more of a barely controlled drift. We repeatedly sought to sail against the incoming tide, only to lose whatever distance we had gained when we tacked across the river and drifted sideways at an alarming rate. 

As most of the crew sat on the side of the boat chatting among ourselves, one of the crew remarked "This is rubbish, we're going nowhere!".

A little later, as seals were bobbing their heads out of the water to take a look at our unproductive efforts, another crew - a man this time - was heard to say "Where is a club when you need one".

I found it quite ironic that just before the exclamation about "rubbish", I had been sitting on the side of the boat admiring the Forth Rail Bridge that we were unsuccessfully trying to pass underneath, and thinking what a beautiful day it was for being out on the water. I wasn't negative at all about the lack of progress, in fact I was quite entertained by our progress/backwards drift/progress/etc. The sky was blue, I was snug inside my four layers of clothing, and I was on the water. That was my perspective.

On the matter of the seals, I had been thinking moments before I heard the above comment that they were quite cute with their whiskery faces, and were incredibly graceful in their watery element compared to their comical clumsiness on land. I wasn't looking for a club, I wish I had a camera!

There are always more than one way of looking at life. I acknowledge that I don't possess the competitive drive exhibited in the first example - I simply choose to enjoy any opportunity I am given to be on water. I haven't had my fishing bait stolen by seals as I have tried to feed my family. Those that have may look for a club when they see a seal. My experience is purely to marvel at the grace and inquisitive nature of these extraordinary animals. 

That's my brief perspective on perspectives.

The little rough graphic below gives you an idea of our lack of progress until we simply gave up, lowered the sails, fired up the motor and returned to the club for a beer! Oh, by the way, the rounding mark we were heading for was somewhere to the right of the picture, pretty much off the screen!

Boom, bang & whistle

Since arriving in Portobello 10 days ago, most mornings I wander down to the promenade to have my morning coffee. Along the way I noticed a few houses with driftwood piled in the front yard, and assumed they used it for art or a log fire. I didn't think too much about it. I've more concentrated on the coffee awaiting me at my new favourite coffee house, the Beach House(www.thebeachhousecafe.co.uk). 

Over the last few evenings I have heard the thud of fireworks, but not understood their significance. Last evening I went for a walk about 6.30pm, and noticed a lot of booms, bangs and whistles. I followed the sounds and arrived at the promenade, where a surreal sight met my eyes. Dotted along the beach were 20 or 30 bonfires burning, hundreds of families with children playing on the sand and running along the promenade, and groups of parents standing around the bonfires chatting. In the midst of all this there were rockets, roman candles and catherine wheels going off! What a sight! 

Along the shore of the Forth to my right I could see some serious fireworks going off at Mussellburgh, and to my left the bonfires and fireworks extended all the way along to Leith. I could even see them across the other side of the Forth towards Fife. Thousands of people out (in 4 degrees!) having a jolly good time. Families were lighting little burners in miniature hot air balloons and watching as they rose high in the sky, eventually fading from view and, as the fire died, falling back to earth who knows where.

Finally I remembered it was November 5th - Guy Fawkes night. Remember? Something to do with a plot in 1605 to blow up the House of Lords at Westminster in London. We used to celebrate it. Before the nanny state kicked in, and kicked fireworks out. Now, the closest we get to a penny banger is at some festival or another where the organisers pay exorbitant sums to have licenced "professional" fireworks display personnel light the explosives, while we are carefully kept outside the exclusion zone.

I hung around the promenade for several hours, and eventually noticed, a few hundred metres down the beach, the biggest bonfire I've ever seen, as yet unlit. As the temperature fell further to 2 degrees, a gathering crowd waited for the match to be applied. Finally the bonfire, generously dowsed with petrol, roared into life to the cheers of onlookers. People stood around, warming their faces, ears and hands, with a friendly atmosphere pervading the whole scene. Finally, as the fires died down and sleepy children were carried off to bed, people dispersed, leaving behind a hard-core of teenagers determined to make the most of the fires, festivities and fireworks. Even after I was in bed, I could hear the occasional rocket launch after midnight.

I remember bonfires, penny bungers, roman candles, tom-thumbs and catherine wheels from my childhood. On occasion people were injured. On occasion frogs and tuppenny bungers had unfortunate encounters (I admit nothing). The Aussie answer was to ban them altogether. The British answer is to educate children to handle explosives carefully, encourage parents to supervise them properly, and to allow the community an excuse to simply get together and have fun. Perhaps there will be a few burnt fingers and singed eyebrows this morning. Perhaps they are a small price to pay compared to the enjoyment Aussies have lost to to the nanny state.

Ups and downs

When I was preparing for this - jaunt, adventure, mid-life crisis version umpteenth, whatever it is called - I warned myself not to expect everything to be perfect. Because life isn't. Perfect. And I'm glad I pre-warned myself, because not everything has gone to plan.

Take the lady on the plane who inconveniently decided to have a heart attack just after we'd flown over Sri Lanka. Oh wait, we'd better make an unscheduled stop at Colombo. Doesn't matter that it causes us to land two hours late at Abu Dhabi and we miss the connecting flights to Dublin, then Edinburgh. Its okay to enter the UK in Manchester instead of Dublin, isn't it? Flying FlyBE to Edinburgh, who announce the gate about 10 minutes or so before boarding time. With me lugging my baggage seemingly from one end of the airport to another.

Or take my carefully organised access to cash with a Cash Passport card. I dutifully transferred most of my available cash to it and changed it online into British Pounds. Because I was told the PIN can't be changed, I carefully recorded it in a secret location, then filed the original advice deep in my records in the storeroom at home. Then when I landed in Edinburgh I went to retrieve my PIN number... and it had disappeared, vamoose, apparently gone forever. I could order another card, but in the meantime... thank goodness for credit cards, shame about the exchange penalties.

Or my attempts to set up a bank account. "So sir, do you have a passport?" "Yes". "And do you have a second means of identification, like a driver's licence?" "Yes". "And do you have proof of your address, like a rental agreement, or utility bill?" "Will a mobile phone account do?" "No". "Well, actually, no I don't have proof of my address". "Well sir, when you do, come back and see us". She was very polite and professional. But apparently helpless in the face of the bank's policies and procedures.

I could go on.

Thankfully, I did get to Edinburgh in one piece, albeit seven hours late. And I have managed to retrieve my PIN through the very helpful people at Cash Passport. And I have found a far more accommodating bank (HSBC) that is willing to allow me to use the address on my licence as my "home" address, and my address in Edinburgh as a correspondence address.

Through all of this and more, I have been thankful that I am educated (although some may doubt it), that I speak the same language as those with whom I am dealing/negotiating/arguing/pleading (although at times I doubt it), and that I have access to secure accommodation and alternative forms of cash. As I reflect on this, I am humbled as I consider the tenacity and courage of the refugee or migrant for whom the opposite of all these factors is so often true.

Friends

Most of my adult life has been spent away from my immediate family - my siblings tend to be scattered by geographic and personal difference. This has led me to rely on friends that I have developed in whatever location I have happened to find myself, for companionship, mentoring and, at times, for rescue. In places disparate as Melbourne, Canberra, Sydney, and more recently Northern NSW. Over the years I have developed friendships based upon mutual interests. Many of these friends have remained close. Some have faded into the background only to resurface when opportunity arises. Others have moved into my life and passed naturally out again as circumstances dictate.

Often friendship networks are taken for granted. We don't necessarily think "I wonder what would happen if that person wasn't in my life?", and nor should we. It is enough to enjoy their presence.

The last week or so has been personally instructive as I have prepared to depart Australia. I have enjoyed many "farewell" meals with friends and discussed what it means to uproot oneself and travel 150 degrees around the world, along with canvassing mechanisms available to allow us to remain in touch. I have been surprised by friends who I have known for years butt haven't spent much time with recently, and yet who have taken the time to seek out an opportunity to "break bread". I have been humbled by the concern of some who have offered material support prior to my departure or in the event of a future emergency. Mostly I have been gladdened by the reality that my life is rich in companionship and love.

It is usually only in circumstances of imminent departure that we have the opportunity to review our networks of love and care. Too often that opportunity is an end-of-life necessity foisted upon us by fate. I have the privilege to experience this as a result of my own desire for an adventure that happens to create a separation from those I love for an indefinite period of time.

If you are a friend who happens to be reading this, I would like to thank you for being in my life. I look forward to many years of friendship, whether in close proximity or from afar.

Taking the leap

"You leapt into the abyss, but find
It only goes up to your knees" 

So goes Nick Cave's song "Babe, you turn me on". 

This year has I have experienced a number of personal and professional leaps into the abyss, but like Nick Cave's song goes, have found it has only gone up to my knees. 

The two great motivators for change are discomfort and opportunity. In the first case, we sometimes find ourselves in situations which aren't so terrible that we are compelled to get away, yet we know deep within that we are not satisfied, fulfilled or content. We remain in the situation, motivated by hope for a better future, or for fear of a future unknown, or maybe a combination of both. And so time rolls on, the situation remains unsatisfying at best, damaging at worst. 

In the case of the other change motivator, sometimes an opportunity is so potentially satisfying that we are prepared to sacrifice all that we have for the treasures that await. In this circumstance change is not seen as negative, but exciting, invigorating and life affirming.

For many people, the opportunity motivator is the less likely of the two scenarios outlined above. Far more common is the brooding sense of unfulfillment and dissatisfaction. I know it has been for me.

My leaps into the abyss commenced early in 2012, and are culminating in less than a week as I prepare to leave the country for an indeterminate period. 

Why am I doing this? The motivation goes back a long way - 37 years. As a young man I dreamed of travelling to the United Kingdom and elsewhere. At the age of 19, my love for a young lady derailed my intentions, and so I shelved my plans, became married and started a family. From that point onwards family responsibilities, insecurities and lack of opportunity kept me in Australia. Don't misunderstand me - I take full responsibility for my choices in life. In retrospect I am very aware that I could have made different ones. It is just that finally I am in the life situation where I can do the things I could have, or should have, done many years ago. It is interesting that some of the same themes that I experienced so long ago have arisen this time around, forcing me to consciously work through insecurities and relationships issues  uncannily reminiscent of so long ago.

I don't know how long I will be gone - hence the one way ticket. It may be a few months, or longer. I don't know what awaits me, good or ill. I only know that I am doing something I have waited 37 years to do. And it seems that the abyss only comes up to your knees.

Clouds

We've recently enjoyed several weeks of clear blue skies with balmy temperatures in the mid twenties. But... one day last week it wasn't so. Instead, the southerly buster had descended, the sky was leaden, and it seemed the mood of those around had adapted to match the sky.


Suddenly I heard a plane taking off from the local airport, and I imagined that it would soar not only above the ground, but also above the clouds. As it made its way to Melbourne, the passengers would experience not the leaden skies of my terra-firma-bound current experience, but those clear blue skies that I love.


The experience reminded me that just above the clouds there is always a clear blue sky and the sun is shining bright and warm. If we can traverse life remembering that it only takes a breath of wind to blow the clouds away, whether literal or metaphorical, then deep within will be hope that springs eternal. No matter how dark the clouds we experience today, the winds of change can blow them away, bringing fresh warmth to our life, and clarity of vision in the bright sunshine that follows.

Emotional Pornography

Emotional Pornography

The current crop of reality television shows demonstrates a new low in modern society. Most people, in western societies at least, circumscribe boundaries around what they will expose of themselves. For this reason anyone who undresses in public, or exposes what are generally considered to be "private parts" of themselves, tends to be viewed as odd at best, and pathological at worst. The recent tragic breakdown of the director of Kony 2012 is a case in point: his very public nude exposure was seen by most to perhaps be driven by drug misuse, or serious mental illness. Many people smirked at his antics, partly because they were so unusual.

Most people maintain personal boundaries that are well defined. We see the spectrum from those who wouldn't be seen dead" in anything but full covering. Many Islamic women are, if you like, one end of the spectrum. In public they are covered head to toe, including their face. At the other end of the spectrum others may simply be clothed in very short dresses or shorts and singlet tops covering the minimum body area deemed to be "decent". The recent case of Lara Bingle being photographed nude through her window as she closed the curtains, and resultant furore and debate about personal privacy, is an example of someone who often makes her living by wearing the least amount deemed decent, yet was scandalized by the invasion of her privacy.

Physical exposure is not the only area where society establishes boundaries. Emotions too are generally circumscribed, and again there is a spectrum of exposure deemed appropriate. Think about the term "wears his heart on his sleeve". This is an example of someone whose personal emotional disclosure is at the end of the acceptable spectrum. Anyone who is indiscriminate about their emotional disclosures can make others around them squirm with embarrassment or pity. They are seen as socially awkward or simply weird. Of course at the other end of this spectrum are those we would describe as stoic or emotionally inhibited.

Shows such as Biggest Loser and Big Brother take television to a new low of emotional disclosure that I can only describe as emotional pornography. The directors of these shows and their ilk spend a great deal of creativity and money contriving situations where individuals are broken down to a point where their personal boundaries become trashed and they lose sight of what is normal. They are quarantined away from the rest of the world, their family, support networks and the world. Twenty four hours a day they are spied upon with secret cameras, bullied, and emotionally manipulated for the capricious delight of audiences who don't give a damn about the self worth of the individual, so long as there is some new titillation to talk about with their friends, and that to make them feel supercilious because they aren't that “stupid". The irony is that while they spend their time bolstering their own ego, they don't realize that they have just participated in the humiliation of another human being who has been (often willingly) manipulated into trashing their personal boundaries.

This is a sad low to which modern humanity has descended. I can only hope it is a fad with a short life-span.

Finding a voice

An old fart like myself hears about blogs. Some seem to be highly respected, others ignored.

What will happen to my words as they are launched into the electronic ether? And what will I talk about? How self-disclosive should I be? Will I talk about how I see the world? Will I dare to talk about the institution I work for? Will I talk about my hobbies? My family? My friends? What pisses me off?

Well, I'll start by saying that the world of politics seems to be one where individuals work to place themselves in positions where power can be maximised. Sometimes that is through the accumulation of money. Other times it is through the power and control of individuals. The energy needed to create the environment necessary for the promotion of self must require a gigantic commitment, especially in the early stages. Perhaps once the individual attains a certain level it becomes easier. And relationally, what is the cost? Does one who has achieved a certain level of political power find like-minded individuals with whom to relate? Does their relating equate to "ordinary" people's relating, or is it substantially different?

If this seems to be a mess of mumblings, perhaps it is. But over the last two years I have observed politics at a closer, more atomic level than I have done before. This hasn't always been a pleasant experience. Much of what I has seen has filled me with a strange sort of admiration: a certain grudging admiration for the ability an individual has to manipulate situations. However, my response has also at times been that of nausea as I have watched the cost of the politics borne by the innocent bystanders - "collateral damage".

So... a bloggers beginning. Maybe I'll continue the musings along these lines, maybe I'll head off in a more positive different direction. We'll have to see.