old.sparkles

What are shops and pubs like in NZ Bevs?

Beoz

The bookends of Australiasia. So distant yet so close.

Gordon Barlow

Having recommended it in my last post, it's only fair that I give some background to the famous poem, and a small extract. Occasionally after school, when I was a kid, some of us would pretend we were The Man From Snowy River and charge headlong on our horses through copses with fallen trees underfoot - spurred on (so to speak) by words from the poem itself. That was fun until Bryan broke his arm trying to squeeze between two trees that were too close together.

Through the stringy barks and saplings, on the rough and broken ground,
Down the hillside at a racing pace he went;
And he never drew the bridle till he landed safe and sound
At the bottom of that terrible descent.

It’s an exciting description, in context, and impossible to recite properly without bending your body to the rhythm of the ride. My Dad knew all the words, but would never recite it in public, for fear of choking up. It was an unrealistic description, of course. Galloping downhill over fallen trees would be suicide for both man and horse, on a loose rein. When we boys did it, there were no hills, but even so... Bryan was lucky to escape with a broken arm.

the troubadour

I'm afraid Perth would be tucked up or near enough to it at that time of night. Especially it being a Sunday. But right enough Corvid has added to the sense of desolation noticeable during the day with any buzz sadly lacking. This is simply a city of home bodies , with some sporting interest, which simply can't compete with the likes of Adelaide by the sounds of it. We even lost out crown as Australia's meth capital to that city. What ever next?

the troubadour

Just a thought. Are you feeling a tinge of 'homesickness' manifesting? Back to Man From Snowy River. My father's wife from Norwich learnt that word for word after three years out in Oz. I suppose the fact she was an English teacher assisted. I learnt part of it at school. Could never recall too much though. A far cry from what Australia represents these days. Even country towns are much changed. Although elements survive obviously.

Gordon Barlow

Well, to use a lovely expression that hadn't arrived when I was young, "Yeah, nah." (Yes, I hear what you say, and it's fair comment; but you're wrong.)
Not even a little bit. After so many years away, I have even lost all trace of my Australian accent. (I've checked it on the phone's answer-machine, and my accent is what I call an indeterminate expat-British colonial accent - the kind you hear from longtime English expats in East Africa, for instance. Weird, and not attractive at all!) I can look back on my childhood (aged 0-15) in the Queensland bush with neutrality, but I have no emotional attachment to it. I do have emotional attachments to my expat life (lives?) in the Bahamas and the New Hebrides (now Vanuatu), and London, and a very deep attachment to the eight months my future wife and I spent backpacking around the Middle East in 1964/65. I liked the 12 months we spent in Perth in 1970, but not to the point of wishing I could re-live it.

Just this last week I established WhatsApp contact with an old schoolfriend of mine in Brisbane. We have exchanged emails for years, but this was the first time we had spoken since I was last in Oz in 1995 - when we had gathered around the barbie in his backyard and reminisced. He had happened to be walking down the street in Earl's Court when I stepped off the bus from Southampton in '63, so we hung out together that winter. By another fluke we bumped into each other again the next year in Esfahan, Iran, and of course I looked him up when I was next in Brisbane. But still no tinge of homesickness!

Is there anybody else on this thread who shares my lack of positive affection for his or her former home?

the troubadour

Well I remain in Australia at this point, but can safely say I'll be joining' the lack of Australian affection club' on next departure which will most likely be permanent although unsure about what to do with the house yet. Shocking what's going down here. But I'll move on.

Earls Court 1963. Wow I first touched down there eleven years later as a teenager. What a place it was in those years. The world staying around a few streets. Every sort of human frailty known to man (and more) could be found. A real eye opener for someone from a West Australian country town that would definitely pass as having a conservative nature. But goodness it was fun. Went back in 2010 and far removed from those days but London overall has marched on.
I'd be possibly more inclined to give Manchester a go these days in place of London if starting that time again.
1970 Perth must have been somewhat different. Pre North Bridge times, tall buildings, perhaps that hotel , The Hilton, would have been the tallest structure which wasn't very tall. I guess less rules and regs, the mining not long in play, affordable, pre homeless , but a rawness, that I recall existing in the later seventies anyway.

Gordon Barlow

Nice to know that you remember Earl's Court with affection, Troubadour! I wonder if you ever saw the movie "The Adventures of Barry Mackenzie". A Barry Humphries piece of nonsense based on his Private Eye comic strip of the 1960s. Very true to the life in Kangaroo Valley at that time.

I guess you must have family in England, to be going back there in your old age. Manchester, eh? A big-city man, then. If I were to retire in England I'd favour somewhere around Bath. We rented a house there for a year in '71 while sorting out our future. I love the countryside thereabouts. Also my Barlow grandfather came from one of the Bath villages, so maybe it's a DNA thing for me. Three generations have graves in the Parish Church of Bathampton, where - for any Australians interested - there is a special little Captain Phillips chapel. I think he is buried there, but I'm not sure.

the troubadour

Affection indeed. In fact user name on here Troubadour is a reflection of that. That being a coffee house of long standing, (perhaps you knew it, Brompton Road?) A most unique place in a rather unique area.

Yes. I saw Bazzie Mackenzie at the High Street Kensington Odeon soon after release. Cinema full of Earls Court Aussies learning the ropes of how to behave in England.

The Aussie pub that appeared HQ at the time of my arrival was The Kings Head. Kenway Road was it? A bit later The Prince of Teck took the crown. They even had a stuffed roo on the bar, with a fag in its mouth and Fosters in its paw. Bit of a rough place but reflected reality of the time.

I recall it went from being called Kangaroo Valley to Arab Alley in a short space of time, but by the eighties it was a microseism of the world. Great fun. I lived in Bayswater , almost in Notting Hill and great days they were.

No family to speak of in England. But none outside of spouse in Australia either. I do feel there is more to do in England in the age though.

I like cities . No idea beyond what I read about Manchester, as never been there. But it seems to have a buzz. Actually the city I was looking at after Bournemouth (expensive) was Norwich. That I do know somewhat, but no recent experience. Brexit has made EU less easily livable. ( lived there some years prior to Australia)

brits1

Your last paragraph brought back some memories of our time in Perth, our first Christmas (we had arrived in the October) my husband and I were invited to DH Christmas works party it was for a cruise on the swan river , a small boat which has he company had hired out we had to board by 6.30pm (we thought that was a bit early) anyway because of very windy weather we “sailed” around in large circles and the party finished at 8.45pm everyone was heading home so my DH and I thought we would take a look at Perth city centre at a night we found two pubs open one an Irish themed pub and an “English “ pub but both were not busy and were empty by 9.30pm we were shocked and it had not really changed that much by the time we lived Australian not sure what it is like now though.

old.sparkles

Found a nice Irish bar on the return to Perth (was flying into / out of Perth to rural WA) - Durty Nelly's. t up with a former BE'er who moved from SA.

As to the flying to rural areas - who needs roller coasters

the troubadour

English pub most likely Moon and Sixpence. I was a 'regular' of sorts there in late nineties. Been gone for years, leaving a big hole in pub choice in the city. The other English pub went as well over in North Bridge. (Elephant and Wheelbarrow) You need to go far into the suburbs to locate an English pub now. Still a few Irish ones around though.
Night is most odd in Perth. People eat so early and return home. The later out of course the more unsavory it becomes. The drugs play a big part (ice) but there are obvious other issues as well. Sometimes on a late shop Friday there is something close to a buzz as well as around Christmas Time when loads of tourists many from Asia, enjoy viewing the lights.
By and large wouldn't bother to go to the city. More here in Leederville , although limited as well, but at least can walk home and no hassle with parking or catching public transport.

Retirednow

Wouldn’t get me back to pommyland for all the tea in China. Godawful bloody place!

Gordon Barlow

One of my most comfortable memories of my time in Australia - years ago - is of standing round the barbie chatting about yesterday's or last weekend's "Footie". Australia's major football code is Aussie Rules, of course, but in Queensland it was Rugby League. And my home town was Toowoomba, where League was king of all sports. My Dad and I used to walk down the hill every Sunday, to watch one of the town's four clubs play each other. Our favourite was the All Whites, much to my mother's disgust, because they were a Roman Catholic club, and she was very anti-RC. (For good reason, but I won't go into that!)

They introduced T'ba to what was called "contact football" - the players were coached to pass the ball pretty much as soon as they were touched by the opposition. It made for a very fast game, and the players had to be light on their feet. There was no limit to the number of tackles, back then; today the limit is six, after which the ball has to be given to the opposition. It was glorious to watch. I don't think any of the other football codes were ever played there. Maybe Rugby Union at some of the schools; but no Aussie Rules and no soccer.Union was played at my boarding school in Brisbane, but even there we all followed League games whenever we could.

I'd been working in Brisbane after I left school, but packed it in after 18 months. This was 1958. The week before I left, I went to "the Gabba" (Woolloongabba, the city's main sports venue) to see the Second Test between a visiting Great Britain team and Australia (Queensland and NSW). It was the most memorable match I've ever seen. It was a hard-fought game, written up as "the Battle of Brisbane”. You can find it on Google under that title - but you have to add "rugby 1958" to find The Independent's report. What made it memorable was that the GB captain broke his forearm three minutes after the start. No substitutes were allowed in those days, so for the rest of the game he played with his arm hanging loose from the shoulder – packing down in the scrums, tackling and passing as best he could. Four other British players were badly damaged during the game; but only one with a broken collar-bone went off. I don’t remember much about the game, but the captain’s absurd bravery is a very vivid memory.

Retirednow

You forgot to mention what the crowd did…