Tag Archives: Sydney

Poems for New Year’s Eve

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New Year’s Eve. A time for introspection, anticipation and good resolutions. Like breaking open a fortune cookie, who knows what the new year will bring?

To usher in the new year, here are a few photos of Sydney harbour, to be lit up by fireworks tonight. And a few lines from season-appropriate poems – I hope you like the haiku at the end.

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Post-election goat cheese and pistachio loaf

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Australia has a new Prime Minister-elect. Before the election, some people planned to move overseas (unil the next election) if one political party won; and some others planned to leave the country if either of the main political parties won – guess they must be somewhere far away by now.

Political ‘stuff’ aside, if I was choosing a place to live for the next three years, where would I go? Would I be able to find goats cheese, fresh mozzarella, figs and quince in season? How far is a good vendor of xiao long bao, or pho, or green papaya salad or hor mok? What about crusty sourdoughs? And would I miss Clive Palmer’s Titanic II?

I probably would take an extravagant round-the-world trip instead.

The first stop? France. All that cheese, wine, and women who don’t get fat (what about the men?), and all that kuign amann.

After France, the possibilities are (almost) endless – Bolivia, Guatemala, Cuba, Argentina, India, Vietnam, Thailand, China, Spain, Portugal, Russia (with a ride on the Trans-Siberian railway), Iceland, some corner of the Middle East (Syria, I wonder if I could go back to Syria), Japan, and let’s not forget that blogger feast in a Medieval feasting tent I’ve been planning with Laura.

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In the meantime, I’ll bask in the sunlight, clear sky, reading at the beach and riot-of-colours flowers that come with a Sydney spring. And bake things with a French accent. Such as this savoury goat cheese loaf (still working on that kuign amman…).

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Opera house by night

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Autumn is creeping up on us. The morning air is becoming nippy so my thoughts turn to long sleeves, even if it gives way to a swelteringly hot day. Some evenings look so cool, others continue to look like an extension of summer.

Last night was just like summer again.

The day began as a warm day that held just enough promise of clouds. Old-time Sydneysiders shook their heads and muttered about thunderstorms. By midday, and all through the afternoon, the air was like a wet-and-warm blanket that weighed on our suits and dresses. It made us long for the beach, or failing that, the air conditioned dryness back in the office cube farm. Early evening saw the promised thunderstorm, so brief that it seemed to make the air hotter, and more humid.

Then, somehow, during the evening, the air cooled and seemed just a little less humid. A sea breeze blew.

Sydney is seen as the glamorous but try-hard counterpart to its more aloof Melbourne cousin. During rush hour, it can seem as though the whole city is trying to get somewhere else as quickly as we can, and never mind the colour of the sky. But, at night, in summer, the city seems to breath a sigh of relief and relaxes – with a cool drink, by the harbour. (A Sydneysider is, at heart, a poster child of a country girt by sea.)

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Memories of Sydney summer

Week 1 of Autumn, the days are officially getting shorter, and it is becoming harder to take decent photos after work. At least the crazy windy, rainy weather we’ve been having lately will start to make sense!

Absence, they say, makes the heart grow fonder. I’m already becoming nostalgic about the few long, hot, humid days we had in late February. In this vein, here are some photos that will speak to me of summer … until next summer rolls around.

Sydney Festival, a month-long highlight of every January. This year, we had a giant rubber duck sail (float?) into Darling Harbour. We had fun with this oversized bath tub floatie on a glorious January day.

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And a few snaps of our iconic Harbour and the Harbour Bridge. On one of those overcast, temperamental-crazy summer days… 

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Here’s to the autumn harvest, Easter, winter stews and Christmas in July. (and yes, that’s a tiny pineapple in the photo below)

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