A DISH OF TRUE SATISFACTION AND HAPPINESS
Being human means you tend to expect everlasting satisfaction from situations you know to be impermanent. You also expect lasting happiness when all around you is in the middle of constant unpredictable change.
Well I had one of those moments of everlasting expectation last night and if I could make it last forever then I would.
Fortune recently smiled upon our son and as you would expect I was very excited for him but when he chose to share his bounty with his mother and me I was beside myself.
He decided to treat us to a most beautiful dinner at a harbour side restaurant set by the edge of a golden sandy beach that looks directly back towards the skyline of the city.
The day had been warm and by 7.45 pm the sun had slid behind the city buildings in the distance. A crescent moon threw a faint golden glow across the water and a beautiful coolness overtook the small bay.
I had a superb salt & pepper calamari entrée served with a rocket and cucumber salad and homemade sweet chilli sauce. Then, with indulgence and delight, all three of us ordered freshly caught whole lobster Mornay.
Just at this instant I cannot think of anything more wonderful than the gladness which the heart and mind feels when the primary instinct of celebrating with family is satisfied.
It was a night of true generosity and pleasure and proved that when you pay full attention to the moment you’re in you really do find true happiness.
thumb nails from Doyles web site
I HAVE 8 MINUTES 19 SECONDS TO MAKE UP MY MIND
At the edge of the bay
On the white sand of the beach
I contemplate what the is sun to me.
Just force, or light or warmth or energy.
How could it ever equal the greater treasure.
That is life. It can not.
I wait the 8 minutes 19 seconds it takes light to travel from the Sun to the earth and go home
PURPLE-BLUE SNOW
In the suburbs the blooming of the Jacaranda is a sign that spring has well and truly arrived. In the streets, parks and backyards the purple-blue flowers carpet the ground as they fall.
I AM AN AMPHIBIAN
I am drawn to the edge of the bay by the scattering of the sky-light upon the water’s surface and its beautiful blueness.
I think I might be an amphibian because I have not developed the ability to live my entire life on the land and at this time each year I have to return to the water to swim most days for the next few months.
A MASS OF SPINNING AIR
These masses of spinning air which trail from the engines are apparently the hot exhaust gases which cool into water droplets and can even form tiny ice crystals
I was looking up at this barely visible air plane and began to wonder how many people are in the air above the world at any one time? I think it has to be more than 500,000 maybe 750,000. Does anyone know?
RUSTIC COUNTRY TOWN CAPTURES THE HEARTS OF CITY SHOPPERS (COUNTRY MARKETS PART-3)
The shopping in Berry is the reason we came for the weekend and this is what makes the town so popular. We’ve been to craft shops, galleries, boutiques and antique and collectibles shops and the markets. At the moment we are resting at a main street cafe having lunch in preparation for the afternoon spree.
As we soak up the rural village atmosphere we watch the horse-drawn carriage toiling its way up and down the village. The footpaths overflow with shoppers fulfilling their dreams. It’s a woman’s heaven and my shopper friends are dreaming of their next bargain. For my part I’m dreaming about a search for a village where every shop sells fast cars, beer, newspapers, magazines and the coffee is served by beautiful young women. Now that’s heaven.
Anyway enough of my dreaming the weekend has been fantastic and everywhere I look I see something entertaining and interesting. It is also calm and relaxing to watch women shop knowing your wallet will never come out of your pocket.
So ‘male colleagues’ if you want to have an enjoyable weekend that won’t disappoint find a few shoppers and take them to Berry. Next time Joan, Lyn and Jan need a driver I’ll certainly be volunteering.
In the meantime back to the shopping.
SCENTS, SAUCES, SPINACH, SAUSAGES AND SECONDHAND SHOPPING (COUNTRY MARKETS PART-2)
The fresh scent of sauces, vegetables, apples, honey, jams, plants, condiments, cupcakes, brownies, pastries, hot foods and farm-yard animals provides a sniff, sniff, sniff, sensation that lets me know I’m at the country markets. My nose is my brain’s way of telling me what stalls I want to visit. I know what I’m doing.
My shopper friends however have no such scientific approach and will visit every stall, some twice. They would hate to miss out on something no matter how small or useless. I heard one of them say “this will be great for a Christmas present in 2012″ ….that’s three Christmases away!!!….. what the?
They must fulfil their bargain hunting addiction and I must, whilst looking interested, find the most efficient and shortest way back to the car. Then again I’m a man and they are women, it’s in the DNA.
I can see a beautiful little unhandled smoother in amongst this lot. The table is full of chamfer planes, Stanley scrapers and planes, saws, hammers, chisels, clamps, caliper rules and braces. I’d like to buy a bunch of them but I’m not good with my hands, I don’t know how to use any of them and I don’t have a shed to put them in…..but I’d like a collection of them anyway.
Have a look at those two bears in the middle …. yes the one looking straight at you…what’s he up to?
Are these frightful clothes for the little animals above or do real children wear them? …… maybe they’re bath mats?
Ex FBI profile artist.
I love the ever popular 1920s little black dress but when I came upon this rainbow of t-shirts I can see if you are going to go bold then go colourfully bold. Maybe you’ll catch your man with a dazzling flash of colour it works for me with my fishing lures so it will probably work for you.
Australia was first settled in late 1700’s and I think this market has collected something from every garage sale held since then. Here’s a short list of what was on offer.
Fresh and preserved flowers, local produce, recycled timber products, timber and hand-knitted toys, peg baskets, christmas decorations, Halloween witches, various native and cottage plants, handmade cane and twine baskets, fashion accessories, antiques, artwork, portrait painters, books, clothing, fruit, fresh vegetables, furniture, second-hand dolls, toys and CD’s and as of course, as Jan and Joan pointed out, the world’s biggest and best sausage roll with chilli sauce.
Every market shopper was once a complete beginner. Here’s a little one getting her first day of training. From the time she was in the baby capsule her mother would have shared with her stories of how you shop. She would know what a grocery cart is, she would know that all items must be paid for and she must stand in line patiently and wait until it is your turn to go through the line. She would know, but not understand, how you become invisible when you go to ask assistance from that very rare species, the store employee.
My shopper-friends on the other hand are battle tested veterans. Their modus operandi is simple and straightforward:
- Shop with passion
- Have ambition and enthusiasm
- Have the ability to walk very slowly and visit every stall
- Have the ability to stay just out of reach and eye contact of stall-holders
- Be able to lie to their face and say “no thanks my friend bought me one of those last time we were here”
- Ability to resist the natural call until you find the next convenience
- Ability to ask a complete stranger where the toilet is
PICKET FENCES AND COUNTRY GARDENS (COUNTRY MARKETS PART-1)
We have left the velvet green coastal countryside and have driven twenty kilometres through grassy undulating dairy lands to come upon the beautiful rural town of Berry.
At the edge of town we are greeted by a grand old Post Office building which is now a trendy café. We turn left and immediately the car is embraced by charming tree-lined avenues which are the setting for rustic wooden houses complete with picket fences and country gardens.
The town has maintained its unspoilt atmosphere and we have journeyed here from the city to be overwhelmed by the fresh scents of the trees, to soak up country life and to do the only thing three woman would go 142 kilometres for and that’s SHOPPING.
Yes once again I’m the nominated driver for the girls who will be so intoxicated after shopping that they will be over the legal limit to drive home.
VELVET GREEN COUNTRYSIDE
WANT TO KNOW WHERE TO RETIRE? WERRI THAT’S WHERE
The combination of a scenic coastline, striking sea cliffs, golden beaches and undulating velvet green countryside is what makes Werri Beach a beautiful coastal village. I stopped there for a coffee last weekend on my way to Berry and revisited my memories of summer at the beach as a child some fifty years ago. Werri Beach on the New South Wales south coast is just the kind of place you could spend the rest of your life.
It looks quiet now but when the local markets are on hunting for treasure is all the go. You can then follow a busy morning shopping with a visit to the two local vineyards which produce award-winning wines. The next event will be on Saturday December 19th 2009 with the annual Street Parade and December markets.
Most Australian families love the warm weather so in the summer months they flock to the pristine beaches to enjoy swimming, surfing, fishing or just relaxing in the restaurants and cafés. The beach which is a little slice of paradise lies within the Gerringong area and with engaging local names such as Mount Pleasant, Foxground, Rose Valley, Willow Vale and Seven Mile Beach you’ll just want to go exploring.
THE LADY IN RED HAS A NICE REAR END
You can see she’s really well-preserved and when this lady dropped by my place on the weekend all eyes were turning. They could not help but notice her beautiful rear and fantastic rack.
The guy upstairs asked “how old is she?”
“I’m not sure’ I answered “I didn’t ask and she didn’t say, but I think she’s from the 70’s”
“A bit fast for you” he said
“Yeah not for the faint hearted, she eats VWs just ask Timm” I replied as if she was mine.
Just then the owner came along.
The guy from upstairs asks “do you own her?”
The driver slowly slips in behind the steering wheel, takes a deep breath to get the full sweet smell of the leather and is caressed by the firm but gentle seat. We can see the excitement building as he buckles in and fires her up.
He then says “You never own or possess a Corvette it’s not possible, the best you can hope for is a trouble-free relationship with a red lady named Heaven” and with that he and his troubles vanish as he races away with her. We watch her rear disappear in the distance.
GRISSOM SAYS SHOCKING CRIME SCENE AT 2009 MELBOURNE CUP
Fantastic Photo by SEBASTIAN COSTANZO.
The 2009 Melbourne Cup was run today, the 3rd November, in Melbourne Australia. The winner was a horse with the name “Shocking” who had just a little more staying power than the second horse named “Crime Scene”
Gil Grissom(CSI) in (Crate ‘n Burial) said “you know it’s funny but every race teaches me something about the next. This one tells me the Cup will finish as a Shocking Crime Scene.”
YARALLA IS AN HISTORIC MANSION BUT THERE IS MORE TO ITS HISTORY THAN JUST THE FACT THAT IT’S AN OLD BUILDING
Here I am on a drizzly Sunday morning looking back at the entrance to the Yaralla Estate. Behind me the tree-lined drive continues for a few hundred metres and at the end is a four-story tower of a once opulent Victorian mansion.
The “garden parklands” that surround the drive are more like country paddocks rather than manicured grounds normally associated with grand residences. Notwithstanding this it is a pleasant surprise to come across so much open space in the middle of modern suburbia.
The walk down the drive finally takes you to a beautiful and private rose garden which is totally hidden away from Concord a busy inner suburb 15 kilometres west of the Sydney CBD in 2009.
Interestingly the suburb takes its name from Concord Massachusetts in the USA which was the site of the Battle of Concord in the American Revolutionary War of 1775-1778. (The first land grants in the area of Concord, Sydney, were made in 1793.)
The mansion is a hundred metres or so from the rose garden. As you emerge from the tree-lined pathway you are soon standing before an outstanding example of a Victorian Italianate mansion.
The guide reminds us that the building not only has high architectural, social and historic significance it is associated with the prominent early Australian family named Walker and the noted architects, Edmund Blackett and John Sulman.
A description of the building notes that it is:
“…a large asymmetrical two-storey building, now mostly plain rendered. Victorian/Italiante style. Slate roof with flashed ridges. Ornamentation generally confined to balconies and verandahs. Simple mouldings on cornices, pilasters and undersills around windows. Main feature is four-story Italianate tower, with smaller octagonal towers at corners. Verandahs reveal a distinct Indian influence. Detailing of special interest includes metal chimney “spikes”, large brackets under eaves, latticework valances, timber balustrades and leadlight windows at front…”
researched from Concord Heritage Society
One could be excused for feeling that the “house” is run-down but even if this is the case all you have to do is close you eyes and reflect back to the time, over one hundred years ago, when it played an important part in the social and cultural life of the early twentieth century. This is one case where the lived history outshines the buildings that remain.
Dame Eadith Walker the daughter of Thomas Walker who originally built Yaralla not only entertained society but she was also an outstanding philanthropist whose generosity still benefits Australians some seventy years after her death.
I wish I had known more about her when I was growing up. Her support of others should never be forgotten. Yaralla was not only a place of high life and high tea it was also a place of high endeavour.
For full information on the family look here.
The entrance hall
The library
The tour of the interior of the mansion gives an insight into the changing fortunes of a grand building that was previously the “private” domain of one of Australia’s wealthiest families.
It is no longer a pristine showcase having been used by the Health Department for nearly seventy years. One could make the observation that as interior decorators they made good doctors. Apparently the original colours were mainly off-white which provided a wonderful setting for the fine pieces of furniture and carpet.
The many mirrors, paintings and museum quality carpets as well as most of the original fixtures and fittings are all gone. In accordance with the will the contents of the estate including the huge Asian, Middle Eastern and European decorative art collection were sold by the Public Trustee at auction in early 1938 after the death of Dame Eadith Walker.
The mansion is set back from the Parramatta river and enjoys traditional English grounds with many exotic plants. European stonemasons were employed to build a sunken garden, an Italianate terrace and a grotto. The home had a swimming pool, croquet lawn, and tennis and squash courts.
The parcel of land upon which this 1830’s cottage sits is unique in Australian history as it is of rare State significance because it incorporates an entire 1790s land grant within its boundaries.
In 1797 Isaac Nichols (1770-1819) received a land grant in Concord which he named Yaralla, an Aboriginal word believed to mean ‘camp’ or ‘home’. Nichols, who had the distinction of becoming Australia’s first Postmaster in 1810, established an extensive orchard on the property.
Later, Yaralla was acquired from the Nichols family in the 1840’s by Thomas Walker (1804-1886) a merchant, banker and benefactor.
The outbuildings include the dairy, a slaughter-house and a beautiful stable complex constructed for the visit of the Prince of Wales in the 1920.
I AM WHERE I BELONG
I was having a quite coffee thinking about how well I fit into my neighbourhood. Every time I arrive at the café I’m greeted by the staff and they all enquire as to how my day has been. I feel really happy being acknowledged as part of the “gang”.
Some places you go to, just because you’re a stranger, you find yourself practically an outcast. I reckon that a great deal of unhappiness and displeasure can be avoided if you feel you are where you belong.
As you get older finding out where you belong can be a real issue. I often think how very strange it is that I found way into life itself in the first place. Maybe it’s a mistake and I don’t really belong here. Maybe I’m a sleeper alien. Maybe I shouldn’t waste time wondering if I belong or fit in. I haven’t got that much time left.
My mind’s eye is caught by the real-time apparent harmony and discord of my bike. I realize that perhaps I’m ignoring a most important consideration: life’s not about fitting in it’s about standing out and I’m in the best part of my life and that’s where I belong.
CROSS SPECIES ENCOUNTER WITH THE KINGDOM OF ANIMALIA
Today I saved the lives of nearly 2000 baby crab eggs. It perhaps represents a generation of bay-side crabs.
This poor little mother crab got pulled up on my hook this morning whilst I was at “work’ down by the bay. You can see all the eggs on the underside of her belly.
She began to communicate with me by drumming and waving her legs and pincers, ten in all. However when I tried to pat her I noticed a characteristic of crabs is that they tend to be aggressive, very aggressive. They are true to the fourth sign.
They are hard to communicate with so off camera we had a little difficultly in understanding one another. I wanted to get her off the hook she wanted to bite off my fingers.
After I reminded her I was only trying to save the children things improved and eventually, as with all women, I began to understand her complex behaviour patterns.
She clearly wanted me to give her the flick and so that’s what I did. She and the children now live about 100 metres offshore.
You might say I’m a hard shell but, like the crab, I too am soft on the inside.
MY OWN PERSONAL PATHWAY
I’m trying to become famous by conceiving an original word. Really I need two words, one for the sun and one for the moon.
When Daisy and I were down at the Bay at sunrise or moon rise we would often see a pathway of light streaming towards us on the water. Like the one in this picture. We wanted to run along the beam of light right back up to the sun or the moon. Maybe we just want to return to the medium from which we originated.
When we moved along the beach the beam followed us. We wondered if a person, say 2 kilometers down the bay, would see the same pathway or a different pathway.
We then wondered that if 2000 people stood side by side would they all see their own personal pathway and the whole bay is actually lit up but we can’t see it because we can only focus on things from our own perspective. (maybe they could all have a camera)
Anyway I was thinking that if I could create this word for the “pathway of light” I might just solve a whole lot of world issues because we would then have a word for describing how to see things from another’s point of view.
We could change places on the beach so to say and look at someone else’s pathway of light.
But upon reflection before I do that I’m going to mark as my territory the spot on the beach where I see my pathway. No one else is going to get what I see. (Unless you’re a blogfriend)
So what name I can give to that intense column of light that follows me around creating the course of my life and my actions?
PS I’ve been thinking about this word for over 30 years.
My attempt at a technical description is. ‘Solar or Luna reflection pathway.’
Latin version: Solar percorso di riflessione or Luna percorso di riflessione
Suggestions:
- ‘The Scotty Pathway’ as in beam me up.
- Pathway of Reflection. fr Sentier de réflexion.
- Cosmiclightway.
- The Gammaway.
Phases of the pathway
THE FESTIVAL OF THE TOMATO
I noticed on my friend Ronelle’s beautiful blog myfrenchkitchen that it was recently the Festival de la tomate 2009 in her part of France.
As usual she gives great coverage to the event with wonderful pictures wrapped up with truly romantic descriptions.
I worship tomatoes and have always tried to live my life by this well known tomato creed.
“Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit; wisdom is knowing not to put it in a fruit salad. (Miles Kington).”
HAPPINESS COMES IN SMALL WAVES
It may be far-fetched but paying attention to the things around me such as the natural world, a smile, my morning coffee really makes me feel better.
This morning I was at the shore of the bay to welcome these small waves at their journey’s end. They were little, playful and apologetic making sure I didn’t mistake them as a Tsunami.
Some people say it can be the little things that make all the difference. I hope they’re correct. I wouldn’t want to have wasted my time being happy about things that don’t count. Wait there, at least I’m happy.
This philosophical thinking thing is starting to get complicated.
2nd UPDATE TO SMOOTH SAILING
THE SCENE OF THE NEAR MISHAP
Well you can run but apparently you can’t hide on the WWW. In the posting “smooth sailing” I recalled an event where I was deserted by my 1st mate when we lost the wind whilst trying to sail under this bridge. He jumped over board. That was 50 years ago.
The web being what it is, the 1st mate has tracked me down. This is what he has to say about the 1960’s incident.
The Captain (left ) and the 1st mate (right) enjoy a coffee near the scene of the infamous incident of the early 1960’s.
footnote: the sailors met when they were aged 4 at kindergarten and still meet, along with two mates Dennis and Ian to celebrate birthdays. They are soon 62.
From: Patrick McCourt
Sent: Friday, 9 October 2009 2:36 PM
To: ‘Sean Fraser’
Subject: Man Overboard
Sean,…. Sorry Captain Sean,
I had not seen the blog – amazing how I have sent the clipping today. It is a good article on your blog. You will note – your clipping on your blog, has year 1983 written on it by you.
Whereas mine, that I emailed you, does not show the year! Finally I have been recognised on your blog. I am now world famous; you could have at least given me a surname – hi Patrick McCourt?
Your Quote
“I used to sail around these waters when I was a kid and had many adventures including one where the 1st mate jumped overboard and swam ashore (hi Patrick). I’m sure this proves I’m a good captain because I stayed with the boat”.
My Memory
And, you could have told the true story! I [Patrick McCourt] jumped overboard to lighten the boat, as you could not find any wind to sail the boat under the bridge. One may argue; this questions your captaincy abilities?
Kind Regards
Patrick J McCourt MOB (Man over Board)
Reply from Captain and Blogmaster. (I feel so full of power)
Dear, Jump over board man, sorry Patrick McCourt,
Many say a good Captain would have thrown you over board to make the boat lighter. I was not so callous.
In fact if it gets out that I didn’t throw you overboard my reputation might be tarnished. I guess now, 50 years on, I can see your fearful action was indeed a gesture of gallantry.
My blog ..my memory wins….see you in Sydney on the 24th.
AMERICA’S CUP 1983. AN UPDATE TO SMOOTH SAILING
SMOOTH SAILING UPDATE
I was thinking of what Mark Twain said: “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”
So I looked back twenty years to see what I had done and remembered my childhood as a sailor who conquered the Bay during the early 1960’s. Later on in 1983 the dream was still alive and along with a friend I invented and published The America’s Cup Game.
I googled the game and found it on a site known as ‘boardgamegeek’ That’s amazing 26 years and I’m finally on the web.
Vicki, Nadezhda, Slamdunk and anyone else interested in the dream of sailing come on board and let the winds catch your soul and we’ll head off under the silky sky.
THE AMERICA’S CUP GAME
26 YEARS AGO
In New York in 1983 the America’s Cup was won by Australia. This was the first successful challenge to the New York Yacht Club’s 132-year defence of the trophy. The Australian win ended the longest winning streak in sporting history.
Meanwhile in Australia in 1983, two mates, Paul Rea and Sean Fraser inspired by the performance of the Australian challenge designed and produced a board game known as ‘The America’s Cup Game’
The small boats in 1983 
We created over 60,000 multi-colored cardboard yachts. I got my inspiration for the design of the yachts from my days as a young sailor around Botany Bay. Both Paul and I were keen sailors.
It is now 2009 and just last week I visited a regatta at the Bay and captured the small yachts as they are today. The inspiration of 26 years ago still lives on.
The small boats in 2009 
The playing board . 
What the press had to say .
SMOOTH SAILING
I think I’d be great at sailing. There was a sailing regatta on the Bay over the weekend so I went down to the water’s edge to see what was going on. As you can see there was plenty of action.
I used to sail around these waters when I was a kid and had many adventures including one where the 1st mate jumped overboard and swam ashore (hi Patrick). I’m sure this proves I’m a good captain because I stayed with the boat.
I’m feeling like the first man who realized that he could escape by holding up a cloth and catching the wind. I want to get going. I don’t need a crew. I’ll just go by myself and with a glass of wine I’ll be in happiness. I think I want to be a sailor.
Life around the Bay is pretty easy and uncomplicated and as Mark Twain said: “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”
THE FREEDOM OF TOMORROW
It is daylight savings here in Australia and I almost didn’t get out of bed. Clocks went forward and tomorrow came an hour earlier.
As I lay there in the warm bed I almost forgot how tomorrow is such a cheat and his trick is always so fresh. “Don’t do it now some day you’ll really start living.” he says.
Well tomorrow’s not good enough for me so I got up and went fishing at 6am really 5am.
As I watched the sun rise and tempted the fish on to my line I saw this little free bird fly off across the bay and thought, ‘what’s in my heart and mind is my freedom and I must let it take me somewhere.’
In the meantime the fact I have hope is enough happiness for me, so I’ll go somewhere tomorrow.
YOU CAN HEAR THE OCEAN INSIDE A SHELL
Bronte is a small beach but one of my favourites. My friend David lives one street back from the beach and has a fantastic view over the ocean.
Bronte is set between sandstone headlands and it’s the perfect place to relax. It has everything a beach needs to have: water, sand and sun.
David’s not too well at the moment and has to go into hospital on Thursday. I’m worried. We spent an hour or so together and before going back to work I decide to escape the agitated, spur-of-the-moment, world and spend some leisurely time watching the waves beat upon the sand.
Like life when the slope gets too steep breaking is inevitable and that’s how it is with waves. They spill, they roll, they plunge, they dump, they surge and then they collapse into a white salty foam which runs up the beach grabbing at the feet of the swimmers.
I fix my eyes on a large wave out the back and follow it to the shore. I’m at the edge of a massive global interconnected body of salt water. The world and life is so incredible yet so easy to take for granted.
I pick up a shell to take a little part of Bronte home with me. As I’m blogging this post I have the shell to my ear and wonder how can this be? I can hear the ocean inside the shell.
Perhaps it proves that whatever comes and goes in our world fond memories will always be a whisper in the seashells of our mind. You just need to take the time to listen.
YOU CAN SEE WHERE I LIVE, WHERE I CATCH FISH AND WHERE I HAVE COFFEE
THE WORLD
AUSTRALIA
SYDNEY
DOLLS POINT
COME VIST ME VIA GOOGLE EARTH
Just go into Google Earth and search for Malua Street Dolls Point, look at satellite and street view.
Also if you look in street view at Carruthers drive you can see the black and white house at number 12. The Cafe I go to is in the park at the corner of Russell Street and Malua Street. If you get there before me mine is flat white one sugar. Thanks, see you.
SEAN FRASER ALONG WITH ELEVEN THOUSAND OTHERS ATTENDS SPRING BIKE RIDE IN SYDNEY AUSTRALIA
It’s about 4.30 am and I’m up and about getting ready for the Cyber Riders Club 2009 ride of the year. The ride raises funds for the MS Society and the Oncology Foundation.
I have all the members in my basket and we’re ready to go. I’ve just eaten a bowl of spaghetti for breakfast and this is meant to give me energy. I cooked it the night before so technically it’s a ‘left-over’.
They say pasta is high in complex carbohydrates, which provide a “time release” of energy when needed during long, tiring exercise, like long-distance running or biking.
It didn’t taste that good so I can understand why you don’t see any Italian restaurants open for breakfast. Pizza or spaghetti isn’t good early in the morning.
My riding buddy, Shelly and I joined about 11,000 cyclists to participate in the annual Spring Cycle ride in Sydney.
We chose to ride the 40-50 kilometre ride from North Sydney, over the Harbour Bridge, through the Rocks and across the old Glebe Island Bridge through the streets of Sydney’s inner west to finish at Sydney Olympic Park.
We started from under the magnificent trees of St Leonards Park North Sydney which is the setting for the North Sydney Oval.
We then rode over the famous Sydney Harbour Bridge into Sydney’s historic old quarter known as the Rocks.
In 1788, Australia’s first European settlers British convicts and their overseers claimed the land here and built their camp atop the sandstone cliffs of this area. The Rocks eventually grew from an open-air gaol into a vibrant port community.
It had a colourful history of rough gangs and rough life but today the former warehouses, sailors’ homes, and dens of iniquity have all been renovated.
The grand old bridge is the world’s largest, but not longest steel arch bridge. Its total length including approach spans is 1149 metres and its arch span is 503 metres.
The Argyle Cut was hewn by convicts through the sandstone ridge of The Rocks to connect Sydney Cove with Darling Harbour and Millers Point. It was started in 1843 by convicts with hammers and chisels, and completed in 1867.
Darling Harbour is a waterfront leisure and entertainment destination. Its journey from derelict docklands to playground has been described as a marvel of inner urban rebirth.
The ANZAC Bridge is the longest cable-stayed bridge in Australia, and amongst the longest in the world. The bridge is 32.2 metres (105.6 ft) wide and the main span is 345 metres (1131.9 ft) long.
We get back on the bikes and continue across the historic Old Glebe Island Bridge which spans Johnstons Bay. It is significant because it has been an important part of infrastructure in the history of Sydney for over 90 years going back to 1862.
It’s a fairly windy day here in Sydney and when you’re heading directly into it, it is not only cold but it’s full power on the peddling. Notwithstanding this our many hours of training see us through and soon we are heading along James Craig Road past the heritage fleet and super yachts in Rozelle Bay.
We then point the handlebars westward along Lilyfield Road and onto tucked-away cycle paths along Hawthorne Canal. We speed through the backstreets of Haberfield appreciating some of Sydney’s old world charm in the traditional federation architecture and on through Five Dock Park to rumble through the leafy backstreets of Five Dock and Concord.
Our first big rest site is Brays Bay Reserve. It’s a great spot to stop to take a breather enjoy a drink and some light food. Most of the food was ice cream coffee and sandwiches. Funny no pizza or spaghetti so we stuck to water and an energy bar.
Our bodies are intact, we’ve done 18 kilometres and we are hardly sweating. At this point we discuss doing the 90k Wollongong ride in November or maybe the 2010 Tour de France, anything’s possible, then I remember I don’t speak French.
From the rest spot we cross the Ryde Bridge, and the Parramatta River which, along with Sydney Harbour, is the most significant waterway in Sydney.
I am cruising. I’m passing riders, riders are passing me, I’m ringing my bell and the road is melting below my tires. It’s fantastic.
A female rider close on my rear wheel misjudges the turn. She rides off the road into a hedge. Should I stop? I look back and see she is suspended in the foliage. She seems Ok so I ride on, Lance, Cadel or Alberto would have done the same; we all know the risks.
The route then links up with the John Whitton Bridge. This old railway bridge has been converted to a cycleway running alongside the train bridge. Once on the other side of the bridge we enter Bicentennial Park, which was created to celebrate Australia’s Bicentenary in 1988.
The cycle paths here take you on a magical journey through the parklands, wetlands and mangrove creeks which are some of Sydney’s most important woodlands and wetland ecosystems. We are only a few kilometers from the finish. I can hear the crowd roaring.
Soon we arrive at Olympic Boulevard. The finish line looms up. It’s within sight. At the 300 metre mark my much younger riding buddy, Shelly, throws out a challenge.
‘Want to race to the finish’ she says
‘No’ I say, but all the time I’m getting ready for a final sprint.
‘Come on let’s go’ says Shelly.
‘Ok’ I said and before she knew it I was off, jumping to a twenty metre lead.
But it wasn’t over she’s young and she’s tricky.
She yells out ‘Stop you’ve dropped something, something’s fallen off your bike’
She almost had me but I’m old and cunning. I wasn’t going to get beaten, I yelled back ‘I’ll go pick it up later’
Within a flash my arms were stretched up towards the heavens as I crossed the finish line a winner.
The racing all over we mingle with the other riders and rested for a few hours at Sydney Olympic Park before throwing our iron horses onto the train for the journey home.
The Iron Horses rest on one another in the train.
It was a great day but will the bike replace the BMW, I think not.
The City of Sydney Spring Cycle is organised by Bicycle NSW and presented by The Sun-Herald, with the support of the RTA, NSW Police, Sydney Olympic Park Authority, NSW Ambulance, St John First Aid personnel, plus hundreds of hard working and happy volunteers. We all work together to provide a fun and safe cycle-friendly route through Sydney.
research info from tourist site and spring bike ride site
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