flying connoisseur

The Primeval Thrill of Those Snow Capped NZ Mountains

2009-06-11T18:32:00.000-07:00

New Zealand does it to me every time – the first sight of those snow-capped mountains and primeval, dark craggy, body of the North Island has me in An Emotional State!

The thrill of flying over the theatre of the New Zealand landscape, over the Canterbury plains to the mountains and beside the coastline towards the jutting curves of the Wellington Harbour on a clear winter day. Emerging into the bright wintry sun, pure air and energy of the Capital City of this enterprising small country, triggers my own creativity on overdrive – or maybe it’s just the fact that I’m away.

Waiting for the flight from the southern city of Christchurch, I am carried away by the casual chic of the New Zealand corporate woman. Before I know it, I’ve approached a black and white leopard-style dressed fellow traveller to tell her how good she looks. As it happens she works in the fashion industry for Trelise Cooper -one of New Zealand’s top designers.
She immediately invites me to lunch at their superstore, which incorporates a French restaurant and I vow to go.

However disparaging Australians are about New Zealanders there’s no disputing that this is Style City – Wellington, that is, but so is Auckland – and Christchurch where I’ve just inspected the top end of High Street and groovy designers, specially my personal favourite, Ricochet. Luckily for my wallet, I only had time for a cursory whirl.

Queenstown, my soul’s home, is about to host its Winter Festival from June 26 – 5 July. Fireworks, Night Skiing, races, street parties and other revelries in the town of a continuous jolly parties. It’s all snow and go – how about it?

And the Band played Waltzing Matilda...

2009-04-25T16:39:00.000-07:00

“Keep in time with the town hall clock, “ the serviceman said at my spontaneous decision to join the march down the main street of my little country town. Why not? I hadn’t remembered to polish the medals won posthumously by my father and had trouble matching them with the right ribbons in the box on my dressing table, but had proudly donned them on this one day of the year.
Anzac Day is part of my heritage – of every Australian and New Zealander and becoming acknowledged by younger generations every year.
Since my early childhood I had worn them to the Dawn Service in Christchurch, New Zealand, more recently, Melbourne, Australia and the year before last in China - Shanghai. That was special as the service was held jointly by the Australian and New Zealand Consulates – with the Turkish Consul as a progressively invited guest. In a rare occurrence, I got to sing both National Anthems and realize both sides of my identity.
I was made to feel special as a young child baring those medals. I hadn’t known my father – he was killed in a freak accident after 17 missions flying a Wellington over Europe with the RAF’s Bomber Command, four months after I was born.
Nor had he known me – his only child and wife of only a short time back home on the other side of the world. Like so many others, his life was cut off before it had really begun – at the age of 25.
Much as I tried, I could never conjure him up, although I wrote a film script of his story a few years ago in that vein, but Anzac Day was Dad day to me – the day I honoured him.
There were three or four of us marching behind the eight or nine so diggers and straggle of scouts behind the Kyneton Band. The years walking of boarding school “crocodiles” made it natural to keep in step. The rain had stopped as we marched down the short stretch of street to the town hall. My cheeks were wet with the unexpected poignancy of the occasion.
The service was short and the least formal I’ve attended. School children gave readings, a local singer guitarist performed “I was only 19,“ and a country and western singer sang “And the Band played Waltzing Matilda, “ flat and checking the words.
All over the country, in New Zealand and many parts of the world – particularly Gallipoli where it began 94 years ago, similar commemorations are happening. It has become more than a day of remembrance – a day of reckoning, of identity, an audit of life purpose. As I age, this solemn day affects me more each year.
This is our culture – formed by war as throughout history, rather than peace. Australians and New Zealanders are never more conscious of their national identity, than on this day.
The little local service in my new life in the country is as significant as any of the massed ceremonies – and the bugle player’s Last Post was far superior to the Oriental rendition in Shanghai!

Living with Victorian Bushfire Alerts

2009-03-01T22:07:00.000-08:00

Words truly can’t describe the emotions a crisis like this engenders.
Since that fateful February day when the sky turned dark and the wind swept the streets with a sense of foreboding, country Victorians have been in a suspended state of nervous tension.
In the words of Victorian M.P. Fran Bailey, whose constituency covers most of the ravaged areas: what can you say when a man comes up to you and says he found the bodies of 17 of his friends?

I really can’t go through many more days like Friday. For 99% of the year your home is your sanctuary and there is nothing to fear. But in the current circumstances, it’s the pot at the end of the rainbow – the place you want to be when you’re anywhere else, but where you can’t relax when you are.

Friday was predicted by all to be a dangerous day and the warnings were so intense that I received messages and calls from friends and family far and wide. “Get out of there,” they said, “Now, tonight or at least before 10am tomorrow.”

One of my email messages was telling me that there would be Relief Centres open all Friday – including the local Town Hall at Kyneton. I had no intention of resorting to that. But on Thursday night, I was strongly urged to do so by a member of the Macedon Ranges council staff at the local Malmsbury Planning meeting.
Back home, the calls and SMS kept coming until midnight. When I settled down to sleep, I found I couldn’t and started planning to pack my car.
By 6am the sense of urgency had escalated, at the same time as the day dawned without sign of the heat and wind expected. Nevertheless, I packed 3 of my favourite paintings in the car beside my grandmother’s chair and took off with a loaded car to spend the day in Kyneton.

At the town hall, the staff were not particularly welcoming and gave an outright “No” to my request for the internet encouraged by the staff member the night before. I turned away dispiritedly, still desperately wanting to be quietly working at home and headed for the friendly faces at the local cafes. The supportive owners of Slow Living invited me to spend the day. I plugged my computer in and alternated between my comfortable proximity to the healthy food and Little Swallow Café over the road. All of this was intercepted by hourly sessions sitting in my car listening to fire updates on the radio.
A friend at the café offered to plug me into the internet at his house, so I eventually took advantage of the offer and continued working in pleasant circumstances in the dining room of his charming bluestone cottage a few streets away. So the day dragged on…. and the reports, with thankfully no serious fires.
I had a meal at a Kyneton restaurant, with a weather eye on the anticipated South East Change – this was the biggest threat to my property. It was surreal – the filling in of time before I could safely return to my home in the country with my lack of outside water. The pump to my bore is currently in pieces at the fixer’s place, while he recuperates from a back problem.

The next day I thankfully unpacked my grandmother’s chair and the paintings and my bag of clothes. The box of other treasures remains there. I was wrung out by the end of the day, limp and drained, yet there had been no serious fires and no further losses.
I have just received an SMS from the Victorian police. They have sent messages to 5 Million Victorians. Extreme weather is expected tonight and tomorrow, high wind and fire risk. We are instructed to listen to local ABC radio for emergency updates. It’s on again.. . How much longer are we country people to be subjected to this tension? Don’t even mention Global Warning.

Tears, dust, ashes - and celebration.

2009-02-18T20:38:00.000-08:00

Last Friday I cancelled a lunch and went to St Paul’s Cathedral in
Melbourne to attend a memorial service for the bushfire victims – twelve days ago, today.
Tears, dust and ashes – a service for those affected by the Victorian bushfires – of prayer, hope and remembrance.
It was Friday 13 February – a day regarded by many as full of gloom. Gloom there was not on this occasion, just sadness, reflection and celebration. Candles were lit and white stones placed on the altar by representatives of each of the communities affected. Tears were shed at the devastation and bewilderment at the scale of the crisis. Explanations? How can anyone possible attempt such?
At the crux of the crisis, on Black Saturday as it’s now known – the day I arrived back from the New Zealand mountains and drove into the holocaust, I wanted to flee this country for that verdant land where I had just come from – the land of my birth and no bushfire history or forecast.
Suddenly New Zealand seems the place to be facing the onslaught of Global Warming.
My resolve firmed during that stressful night during my listening to the urgent fire alerts on the radio, checking the CFA (Country Fire Authority volunteer force) website and paranoiacally looking outside for any signs of fire on the horizon.
We sang the Australian National Anthem during the service in St Paul’s – the first time ever for me during my forty years’ residency and my raw emotions overflowed into the thought, “ This is my community. How can I leave it?”
It’s the fate of an ex-pat to have that dilemma never fully resolved. You belong here – and there, but never fully in either. At some stage you make a choice, but not necessarily for ever. Or you divide your time – if you are lucky enough to be able.
It's at times like this that you think of home and Australians round the world are rallying right now. Among the consolatory calls I've had from around the world was a homesick Australian friend in Beijing.
The dust may have settled, but the fires are not out and the bushfire season far from over. The debate is raging over the prevention strategy and will be paramount in our planning for long to come, but the lives of those affected and surviving the maelstrom of the Victorian bushfires of February 2009, has been changed for ever.
Our emotions are on a raw edge, and we are still in shock - and I'm talking about those not directly affected, but the community spirit is high and everywhere you go there are bushfire appeals. More offers of help – clothes, food, accommodation and pairs of hands, have been offered that can be utilized
Victoria might no longer be the place to be in the long term despite its considerable cultural clout, but the spirit of the people is a powerful force.
The vineyards of the Yarra Valley have suffered enormous loss, but tourists are the restorative needed. Come visit you wine lovers and culture soaks. There are great galleries amongst the vines in this corner of the globe. And always a plethora of delights in Melbourne.
ADVANCE AUSTRALIA FAIR.

New Zealand Mountains, Pinot and Bushfires

2009-02-11T21:38:00.000-08:00

After three days of intense wine talk and tasting in the burgeoning pinot district of Central Otago (English Wine Guru Jancis Robinson said last time she attended – in 2005, that it could be the most exciting area for Pinot Noir outside Burgundy. She came back this year - and said a lot more this time), it was a salve for the palate to take a walk up the mountains – actually one of the Great Walks of New Zealand – the Routeburn Track.
After driving to the bottom from Kinloch at the head of the lake – Wakatipu, on which the international alpine resort town of Queenstown is also located and where the Pinot Celebration was held, it was embracing to lose myself nature and the process of trudging up the track. I had forgotten the marvellous camaraderie of mountain people – that everyone you encounter is your immediate best friend. It was a glorious day – not too hot, not too cold, the rivers sparkled turquoise below the dark line of the bush. And despite the volume of fellow walkers, there was plenty of time alone with the birds, just walking in the bush.
Even more refreshing was the friendly Ranger at the Routeburn Falls Hut who offered me a cup of tea and the query,” What’s Pinot?”
I was wearing the relaxation as the plane touched down in Melbourne and I stepped out to a temperature of 46 degrees – the hottest ever on record.
My son collected me with the words that I needed to keep tuned into Emergency Radio. I had walked into a crisis, with bushfires erupting by the second and it was almost too sudden to keep track.
I drove back to my home in the Victorian countryside on instant alert, not knowing whether the fire had crossed the Calder Highway towards my hamlet as it had the day I left (and came within the outskirts of the nearest small town). My mind was in a whirl of survival plans and worry about my lack of water. There is a problem with my bore that I hadn’t succeeded in having fixed before I left.
Well my property was and is OK and I’m OK. It was a sleepless night that night for me and many others. Unlike others, I’ve been lucky so far, but with a 12-year drought and predicted further high temperatures, it’s not over yet.

Thailand is Trisara

2008-11-23T02:02:00.000-08:00

Trisara – name that rolls off the tongue. After the increasing cold and grey of Shanghai, Trisara is magic… after a journey via Bangkok I arrive at Phuket in the middle of the night and am whisked away to a bed of great comfort. Cool sheets, room to stretch, peace, quiet, luxury..
I awake to the beauty of a tropical morning – warmth, colour, light. I pull myself out of my cocoon to breathe in the beauty on my private poolside patio overlooking the sea. Palm trees, white umbrellas, aquamarine water, a stretch of beach. And no people!
I hurry down the steps – or saunter, through the foliage to the breakfast terrace and am met by smiling locals preparing the resort for the day. I linger over a perfect breakfast of tropical fruit, toast and top notch coffee facing the sea outside, but my breakfast partner fails to appear. Eventually, I realise – after she has been called, that there is a time difference between Shanghai and Thailand.
I am an hour early for my appointment.
So… more time to enjoy this day in the paradise that is Trisara –“the third garden in Heaven” in Sanskrit, this sanctuary with its private beach, away from the world of rush.
I try my private pool, I fall back on sun lounge, my book drops from my hand.
Later I come close to Heaven with a Four Handed massage – two sets of hands working in tandem, one set of which I feel but never set eyes on its owner!
Normally this signature massage is performed with three sets of hands, befitting its tri – identity.
Waved off by a smiling team, I drag myself away on schedule after less than day at Trisara, rejuvenated already, but Trisara I’ll be back. I’ve found the perfect resort, lucky me…

2008-07-20T17:43:00.000-07:00

Beijing is the word on everyone’s lips and it’s not all good, right now, but whatever the opinions, there’s no disputing that it is one of the key global cities of the future. There is so much of interest going on.

Visitors to Beijing are privileged to experience a developing society: as one Western entrepreneur working in China observed; “I can’t imagine doing what I am doing now (opening three restaurants simultaneously) in any other place in the world or at any other time.”

There’s a sense of pervading excitement and unfolding plans that one imagines existed in colonial days – in establishing Western civilization in outposts of the known world… Shanghai in the 1930’s… India under the Raj…

That coupled with the age-old mystical attraction of the East – the Orient, the ancient Chinese culture, which has influenced so much of the 21st Century world:
French cuisine, for instance, which originated in China.

Philosophising aside, Beijing is beguiling … and addictive…. I didn’t want to leave on my last trip a couple of weeks ago. “This is about to open and I haven’t seen that”… It took me a while to feel my way into the Imperial City. It is built on a far grander scale than Shanghai and harder to get around. Now, on every trip, I discover more hidden corners.

With the ambitious building program prior to the Olympics, there’s bound to be so flack – some hotels or restaurants that don’t work, or have over-extended. The fascination now will be the Beijing of the post-Olympics. Many of the planned restaurants such as the Beijing establishment of Michele Garnaut of M on the Fringe, Hong Kong and M on the Bund, Shanghai, wisely made the decision months ago to wait until after the Olympics to open. Now she has been joined by many others who didn’t make it in time, held up by building plans and other complications.

I can’t wait to see the Beijing of 6 months time – or a year. Chinese American attorney Handel Lee’s redevelopment of the Legation Quarter in the former U.S Embassy to the Qing Dynasty will be completed and the redevelopment of the historic Foreign Legation Street it is on, complete with trolley buses – Qianmen, known as “Heaven’s Passage” during Imperial Times. The CCTV “Trousers” building will presumably be finished, “The Egg” - National Centre for the Performing Arts and “Bird’s Nest” Olympic Stadium will be settled in and many more.

Come to think of it, don’t think I can wait till then – excuse me while I book my flight…I really need another exquisite dinner at Maison Boulud and duck dinner at Duck de Chine in The Hidden City….and all those other places that haven’t opened yet …

Beijing Calling Cards

2008-07-09T20:26:00.000-07:00

History is happening by the second in Beijing as the list of global leader visits grows. Beijing was ablaze with the visit of the Australian Prime Minister, Kevin Rudd, on my last visit to Beijing back in April. Last week my arrival at the grandiose new Beijing Capital Airport was affected by the security surrounding the visit of Condelezza Rice, American Secretary of State and the Thai Prime Minister, Samak Sundaravi. The new Mayor of London has just finished his visit and so the list of dignitary calling cards goes on…

The relentless race towards the August 8 Opening of the Olympics continues with everyone tracking time before and after the event. The new pre-Olympic single entry visa for foreigners is causing havoc with expat businessmen based in Beijing, who are forced to returning to their home country each time of renewal or in one case I’ve heard about, moving their base to Bangkok. The Games Volunteers have hit the city in their spunky new uniforms and the athletes are starting to move in.
The historic first weekend charter flight to Taiwan has taken place this week with much ceremony, heralding the closing of the gap between the countries - an event which could not be imagined fifteen years ago.
And the changes in the city show. There’s more glass in the massive CCTV Tower since April, more landscaping and beautification – and signs in English are plastered around the city with an abandon that no one in the city could have imagined two years ago. In fact, you would hardly recognize the city from two years ago now that the landmarks have changed – with huge building projects dotted all over.

The Olympic Buildings might be finished ahead of time, but the wave of new restaurants is not. The food and beverage scene is caught up in the frenzy and numerous major restaurants scheduled to open months ago are still struggling to open their doors. All construction has now officially stopped, one month out from the Olympics and only one of the ten restaurants I’ve come to review is open – and that’s only a soft opening with no promotion.

As I lounged back in the soft sofas of Maison Boulud, I revelled in the fact that it was worth the trip. This brand new restaurant is the first of the establishments to open in the long-awaited Legation Quarter development by entrepreneurial genius, Handel Lee, who transformed Shanghai with Three on the Bund.
In the same way, he is bringing Michelin-starred restaurants, high-concept art galleries, an underground theatre and luxury retail to the beautiful old former U.S. Embassy, round the corner from Tiananmen Square.
Such a location! And a glamorous, grand-scale, high-end restaurant that could grace any capital of the world. I was lucky enough to enjoy the food of the Grand Master Chef, Daniel Boulud and meet him at work in the kitchen. Beijing is enhanced by the addition of a restaurant of this standard. No visit to this emerging global city will be complete without your finding this out!

A Mexican Meal & Plans for Many More in Beijing

2008-04-20T01:02:00.000-07:00

Conversation during dinner in a Mexican restaurant in Beijing with the Executive Chef of the Canadian Embassy is reduced to shouting over the full volume of an authentic Mexican band in sombreros and tight trousers or talking flat out between songs. The food’s OK – if you like Mexican food, but we are trying to talk factually about the plethora of new restaurants racing to open before the Olympics and particularly of his – a group of three in a complex to be built by the name of Project H20.
Billy Kawaja is a busy man. He already runs the menu of a weekend brunch place Café St Laurent below the popular Alfa nightclub and a catering business. Last week he cooked dinner at the New Zealand Embassy to celebrate the visit of Prime Minister, Helen Clarke and historic signing of a Free Trade Agreement with China.
He has several opening and closing parties lined up for the Olympics, on top of the new restaurants. Last week he cancelled our dinner arrangement at the eleventh hour due to an emergency and as I arrived tonight, was pouring over plans with his assistant. Struggling above the noise, I ask if he has time for any private life.
“This is my life, “ he replies, “ You wouldn’t do this in any other city and maybe this is the only time you’d do it here.”
Beijing is overflowing with people seizing the day in similar way. I have seen over two massive restaurant & leisure complexes struggling to meet the deadline of the Olympics. Handel Lee, the Chinese American barrister who transformed Shanghai with his luxury Western Three of the Bund complex is converting the old American Embassy on the edge of Tiananmen Square into the Legation Quarter - a similar marvel to be, currently seething with swarms of labourers, broken bricks and bare earth.
Swire Hotels are nearing completion of The Opposite Room in the Sanlitun district, with entrepreneurial Australian restaurateur David Laris as a consultant on the bars. Michelle Gaurnaut of the M group in Shanghai and Hong Kong has elected to wait to open her Beijing establishment after the Olympics.
Yesterday I visited The Emperor – a top level Chinese hotel of 55 rooms with a view of The Forbidden City, which was officially opening tonight. The downstairs restaurant Shi was riddled with noise and the smell of varnish, so I repaired to the rooftop bar and gazed at the treetops and skyline of The City – breathing in the old and new. It will be fascinating to return to Beijing in three months’ time – let alone a year.

Beijing is ablaze with the visit of the Australian Prime Minister

2008-04-10T22:54:00.000-07:00

Beijing is ablaze with the visit of new Australian Prime Minister Kevin Rudd, who delivers speeches in perfect Mandarin, punctuated with Chinese proverbs… and his wife Therese Rein, so it wasn’t altogether surprising that I should run into her at the influential Australian Red Gate gallery yesterday as I was coming in and she was going out.
We smiled broadly at each other – mine motivated by pure pleasure and recognition, hers probably because she’s that kind of person. We haven’t met – although I’m from Australia –it was just one of those memorable moments that happen when you see fellow countrymen away from home.

The gallery, incidentally is a special treat. Located in a gatehouse of the ancient city wall, it’s almost a complete experience before you’ve seen the art. Up a myriad of steps and restored ramparts, you are thrust into a scenario from the mysteries of the Ming and Sung era past.

Inside the gallery, the setting exhibits the exact contrasts that constitute contemporary Beijing – the original architecture and exposed walls, set with modern art. The current artist represented in the main room is Wei Qingji whose work rests on the juxtaposition of influences on Beijingingers – the confusion of the timeworn old of the Mao regime and furious Westernization of the current day. It’s a perfect key to the culture..

Furthering the Australian emphasis of the day, the PR Director of my hotel (the new Ritz Carlton, opened in December 2007), Kaarin Lindsay from Melbourne, Australia, was yesterday awarded the company PR Director of the Year for Asia.
Not bad for a 33 year old, who only arrived here from Sydney a year ago and is competing with the other luminary chains spreading frantically across Asia. Her bright and breezy style, backed by a steely efficiency has made its mark at the Four Seasons, Sydney and previously Park Hyatt, Melbourne and Hyatt Coolum.

I’m just off to join her in the hotel’s Italian restaurant Barola for lunch. Ciao from China.

Up the Gondola with a glass of Champagne in my hand.

2008-02-07T00:23:00.000-08:00

Up the gondola with a glass of champagne in my hand and I’m on top of the world – surrounded by the indescribable beauty of The Remarkables mountains ringing the lake (Wakitipu) at Queenstown, New Zealand.

It’s the final night of the Pinot Noir Celebration of the Central Otago region – the climax of an intense two and a half days of homage to the wines of this increasingly important region. There’s a magical element to the” terroir”- the rich mineral soils of this former goldmining area, developing the regional identity further each year, as the vines age and the makers embrace the land.

We tasted the wine of the twenty four participating companies – in a couple of hours the first morning – 9am and it’s taste and spit (and talk); we’ve conflabbed with the winemakers over lunch (I was lucky enough to enjoy the hospitality of owner Nigel Greening and winemaker Blair Walter at the celebrated Felton Road winery in Bannockburn); we’ve tasted the wines of thirteen extra wineries in the magnificent setting of Mt Soho in Arrowtown; and partied with the winemakers over dinner. We’ve familiarized ourselves with evocatively-named wineries such as: Wooing Tree, Three Miners, Wild Earth, Desert Heart, (actor Sam Neill’s) Two Paddocks, Sleeping Dogs (named after the first film of owner Roger Donaldson), Shaky Bridge, Pisa Moorings and Judge Rock.

We’ve listened to experts such as Allen Meadows alias “Burghound’ – one of the world’s leading commentators on Burgundy and Jean-Pierre de Smet recently retired winemaker and director of Domaine de l’Arlot, keeper of the cultural heritage of the Association de l’Abbaye de Saint-Vivant – home of the original Burgundy vineyards.

As we listened to Jean-Pierre telling us the history and gazed longingly at the four Burgundies we were about to sample –a flight of 2004 Romanee-Saint-Vivant (How long can we hold out – my hand kept creeping towards the glass!), there was much talk of the parcels of land from which the prized drop is made. We watch a misty film of a horse and plough working the vineyard (they’re going back to organic) and the romantic interior of the Abbaye – and it dawned on me that these parcels of land are the same size as my newly acquired home block in Central Victoria, Australia! Olive-growing neighbours tell me that the land and soils are rich – and it’s also an old goldmining area. I could be sitting on a fortune. The estimated value of the four glasses facing me is around $AUD4,000.00. Burgundy beware! (and Central Otago!). Drummond may yet rise!

Hot Start for 2008!

2008-01-06T10:00:00.000-08:00

Welcome to the Year, Connoisseurs! And a hot one it is, here in Australia.

Melbourne – the southern city of the east coast of the mainland, suffered its hottest day on record for that time of the year when the temperature hit 42 degrees between Christmas and New Year.
Coming through Customs on New Year’s Eve on my way back from spending Christmas with the family in the colder climes of Wellington, New Zealand, I was told, “You won’t need that leather jacket out there, Lady – it’s 41 degrees!”

We’ve had several days of it now and Melbournians who haven’t deserted the city for holidays at the beach, are hiding behind drawn blinds and closed doors.
I’m packing for a move to the country – living with a house overtaken by cartons,
praying for a cooler day on Moving Day next Monday.

I’m fleeing the city for the drought-stricken countryside of Central Victoria for the old gold mining area around Bendigo and Castlemaine. My friends consider me crazy – no main town water, no natural gas, no mail delivery and what do you do with your rubbish? It’s an interesting question, beyond the realms of the majority of people’s imagination in 2008.

Few have experienced life without community systems. It wasn’t an issue during my childhood growing up in the New Zealand country in the 1940’s and 50’s. We carted water from the creek when we ran out of water for the house and drank from a rainwater tank, which is what I will be doing in my new life. Talk about déjà vu!
As one knowing friend said smugly, “You can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl!”

What an interesting time I’ll be having discovering the best spots to wine, dine and indulge - to report to you. There’s a plethora of interesting galleries and individual places to explore. Bold Cafe & garden gallery on the outskirts of Castlemaine combines good food, plants and sculpture in an enticing garden setting – an oasis in the middle of the country, with the best dahl I’ve found for a while – and local wines by the glass.

Bold Cafe
146 Duke Street
Castlemaine
Victoria 3450
T. 03 54706038

All this, just over an hour from Melbourne!

Enjoy!

jill@flyingconnoisseur.com

Welcome to the Flying Connoisseur Blog

2007-05-29T19:28:00.000-07:00

Thanks for joining us. You can follow the footsteps of the Flying Connoisseur journeys here- and keep abreast of the entries for upcoming guides by reading the previews of places as they are selected - cultural cameos of restaurants, wineries, galleries, museums, small hotels; plus epicurean and arts events; current Australian Ballet & Royal New Zealand Ballet productions; Pinot Noir conferences in Australia and New Zealand; share the experience of your writer eating lunch with a family living in a Beijing hutong and spending the ANZAC memorial day in Shanghai.
Feel free to add comments and suggestions or experiences of your own.

Happy travelling - see you at the next great place! If you find it first, make sure to let the Flying C. and rest of the connoisseurs know!

Anzac Day in Shanghai

2007-05-25T01:36:00.001-07:00

It’s not often that we ex-pats have a chance to satisfy both sides of our identity. But I did just that, at the ANZAC Day service at the Australian Consulate in Shanghai. Wow, it was good!
How about singing (lustily – whether or not I knew all the words) both anthems - right after each other? It’s a buzz I’ve hardly ever had – in the 40 (ah hem!) years since I left the land of my birth – New Zealand. I’ve now lived a lot longer out of the country than I lived in it, which is a strange concept to come to terms with, but I know the anthem!
I’m a bit lighter on the Australian anthem as I missed out on learning it at school - and the Maori words for that of New Zealand, now essential to every classroom. (My four – year old grandson recently corrected my accent for Kia Ora!)
Oh, the networking – there’s nothing like a crowd of countrymen out of their own country, to find out what’s happening and who’s here. I had been given two business cards and several telephone numbers by the time I reached the lawn of the beautiful Consulate in the French Concession, where the service was held.
Bit of a coincidence that I was there: I’d dined late the night before at the Mimosa Supper Club at Suzhou Creek, after a concert – the visiting Orchestre de Cannes, conducted
by a much-internationally-celebrated Chinese pianist, Xu Zhong, at the futuristic fishbowl of Oriental Arts Center in Pudong.
By the time I arrived there were only a handful of other diners, but I was happily ensconced, observing the startlingly contemporary design – mesmerizing fluorescent circular ceiling lights, Bauhaus meets Andy Warhol, in a warehouse that once was a brewery - and consuming an unusual concept of fine cuisine, when the Chef/Restaurateur arrived at my table.
Adam Ashe is an Australian, who has cooked round the world in key places. We talked so long that I finally felt for his early morning rise. “Actually, it will be early tomorrow,” he admitted, “I’m going to the Anzac Day service.”
He didn’t have the actual number in the street, but wrote instructions and suggested I look for the green gates and the flag.
5. 30 am. We’d been up and down the street, when I spotted – Australians & New Zealanders, in solemn face and suits!
We sang, the Australian Consul’s niece read the Anzac Ode, the Australian, New Zealand and Turkish Consuls addressed us and a Group Captain of the Royal Australian Air Force, wreaths were laid and the Last Post played by a member of the Shanghai Opera Company. Nearly 400 of us turned up to observe the occasion and mark our identity. And consume another prominent Australian chef, Steve Baker’s meat pie plus gourmet gunfire breakfast.
I say, Advance Australia Fair and God Defend New Zea –eeland.

Ghosts in the Gardens

2007-04-09T19:23:00.000-07:00

Is it Mrs Macquarie? Or other ghosts from Sydney's colonial past, that confront me every time I enter the Royal Botanical Gardens? Whatever it is – there's a sense of timelessness – an almost primeval quality about the place.

Staff who work there tell me I'm not the only one to feel this special quality about the place. We are aware of it, they say. They quote the numbers of travellers who come straight to the Gardens from the airport to spend a few hours within its space.

Is it the combination of natural and contained – the wild sandstone outcrops around and behind, against the convict-built walls and unforgiving grandeur of Government House within its manicured grounds; the “tree energy” of the massive Moreton Bay Fig Trees, bamboo forests and formal rose gardens; the blueprint, criss-crossing paths, against the breath-taking backdrop of the harbour?

Despite its central location, you can always find to relax in this place. Follow the Harbour path round the perimeter of the Gardens and you reach the rocky outcrop of Mrs Macquarie's chair, where the lonely wife of one of New South Wales early governors, came to contemplate the sea that brought her to this alien land.

I find reasons to walk through here on every visit to Sydney, past the lake and out through the Lion Gate – the sea in my sights and surrounded by trees.

One night after a wedding party at the Botanical Gardens restaurant, I couldn't find a way out. I tried all the gates and retraced my steps. They were all closed. Just the sound of my steps and a lot of dark shapes. I'm not too keen about the bats that inhabit part of the space, but Mrs Macquarie eventually guided me to the one gate with a security guard post.

Part of my attraction to the Gardens is as the backyard of the Sydney Opera House, where I worked for many years and never fails to excite – lights, curtain, action, transporting music, drama and dance. Walking round East Circular Quay towards the jewel of the harbour, my sense of party begins to rise. I love watching people arrive – walking with happy purpose round the quay, bees to the honeypot, from the carpark and central Sydney, before the show.

Last visit to Sydney was to see Meryl Tankard's Contemporary Dance Theatre perform Kaidan – a ghost story in collaboration with the Taiko Japanese Drumming group. Cinematically thrilling.

Next time it will be to see the Paris Opera Ballet – its first season in Australia during June. I'm booked, are you?

But first to lunch … I'm meeting a friend at the trendy Thai restaurant – Longrain, in Surry Hills. After racing to be there when it opens at 12 noon, we discover that they do take bookings for lunch, though not at night. We lounge back on sexy black leather low chairs and drool over the yummiest food - healthy, taste smorgasbords of vegetables, seafood, spices and other delights.

On to Paddington to shop till we dropped – well, mostly browse. Oxford Street is a challenge to cover in one day. There are so many distracting side streets to explore. I could spend an afternoon in my favourite Sydney bookshop – Ariel. It's a treasure trove of small designer objects – children's toys, special chocolates, art & design books, and a huge range of food and cookery tomes.

And so on with aching feet on this very hot day, saved momentarily by a watering stop at Italian Deli, Alimentari at the bottom of the designer haven of William Street, just past the theatrical exotica of Pelle recycled designer shoes and bags.

Oh, Sydney – it makes me smile thinking about it, after a zillion visits and living in Melbourne for 30 years!

Shanghai Scene

2006-11-05T19:42:00.000-08:00

Shanghai – the continuing story, developing as we speak. Ten years on from my last visit, I hardly recognize the place – apart from the Bund, cleaned up and developed within its glorious buildings, which now houses Gucci, Armani and all the top designer labels, plus the most lavish restaurants you can find in the world.
And over the river – a whole new mini-city – Pudong, of the tall towers and digitalized signage, dazzles and cajoles like a sophisticated Disneyland/ New York.
This is China 2006, a country of contrasts, reflected in its financial capital, Shanghai. The magnificent buildings of The Bund now bear historic association plaques in Chinese and English and have been restored to their former grandeur. Both this area and the French concession district are returning to the glamour of the past, while much of the rest of old China is disappearing into heaps of rubble. I noticed at least three “landmark” developments among the plethora of building sites around the city.
It’s ten years since I was last here with the Australian Ballet – and they’re here again – in the Grand Theatre, Shanghai – an imposing temple of performing arts in the central, People’s Square. On the last night of a short 3-night season, the company excel themselves in a performance of Graeme Murphy and the late Kristian Fredrikson’s Swan Lake. I pass Graeme - surrounded by autograph hunters in the foyer, his partner Janet Vernon, smilingly looking on.
He is well known to dance lovers in this city, having brought Sydney Dance Company here regularly for many years and recently co-choreographing Mulan with Shanghai Song and Dance Ensemble.
I share a meal with friends from the company at Crystal Jade – a popular Cantonese restaurant in the trendy, upmarket Xintiandi shopping and restaurant complex, where we eat preserved (100 year old) eggs with shaved ginger, rolled cucumber with ginger and chilli, roast duck, and two kinds of dim sum, including one of densely packed spinach, full of flavour – all we can eat in a superb repast for equivalent of $AUD56. Sitting at a long wooden table behind a wooden screen, we are secluded from the pulsating crowd in the rest of the room.
On our way back we amble through Xintiandi, through the shopping and gossiping crowd thronging the streets at 10.30pm. The place is a treasure trove of exquisite architecture – I could wander for hours checking each place. We find the top class restaurant T8 where Kylie Kwong is currently cooking and call at Visage - a sophisticated patisserie/café for some takeaway sin.
Another day, another restaurant – or two. Lunch at Yin – a beautiful old building in the French concession, part of the grandiose 1930’Jian Jiang hotel (where Richard Nixon signed the Shanghai Communiqué` in 1972). The restaurant specializes in both Chinese and Japanese cuisine and has dedicated itself to healthy eating – the abolition of excess oil in cooking and MSG. I revel in my Japanese set lunch of sashimi and tempura, with miso and rice, perfectly prepared and presented.
I stroll around the huge hotel complex afterwards in awe of its size and grandeur. One of the buildings, Grosvenor House is still a popular apartment block with ex-pats.
Dinner at the black, white and grey gastronomic temple, Laris, the domain of Australian chef-entrepreneur David Laris, who is building an empire in Shanghai. Laris features its own Chocolate Room – a glass-windowed kitchen opposite the restrooms, where a young chocolatier is putting the final touches to an elaborate chocolate house. Thirty-four, beautifully packaged, varieties are available commercially. David Laris has also opened a delicatessen called Slice – the first of a chain, with Thin Slice as the express line.
Dining on crab with avocado salsa and lemongrass gazpacho, followed by tuna with wasabi infused rice, avocado and pink ginger with egg white dressing; and gazing at the illuminated junks on the river and bright lights and screens of Pudong beyond, I am blown away by the slick quality of Laris’s food and his entrepreneurship.

Raymonda and a September Sunday in Melbourne

2006-09-24T23:10:00.000-07:00

The Australian Ballet’s Grand Opening of Raymonda was the highlight of the week. It’s the big ballet of the year for the company – a mammoth new production choreographed by Resident Choreographer Stephen Baynes, a really talented guy. Like him, it’s intelligent and sophisticatedly restrained – I was going to say beautiful, which the ballet certainly is, but not sure how he’d feel about it referring to himself!
There are some glorious moments and the sets and costumes are to die for – sublime eye candy. Beautiful choreography, a strong narrative and defined characters – Serenely gorgeous Star, a dashing contemporary Rat Pack, simpering Hollywood Starlet, overbearing Impresario, ultra dignified King and Queen and of course, a handsome Prince.
Baynes has transformed the traditional Russian story into a 1950’s Hollywood version – the story of a film star on the eve of her marriage into a European Royal Family. As one of the critics mentioned, they could have renamed the ballet Grace. It’s a glorious night in the theatre – lots of luscious, swirling dancing, sublime music of Glazunov, beautiful dancers in top form. There’s an evocative bar sequence straight out of Cocktail with a couple of Tom Cruise bartenders highkicking the house down, on the sexy scarlet bar…. as AB Artistic Director David McAllister said at the party after the show, “I can’t wait to visit that bar!”
And I can’t wait to see this lavish new Raymonda again – which I will be lucky enough to do next week with a dance critic friend from Sydney – and a different cast. So much talent in this company and if you’re a dance groupie like me, you’ve never seen enough!

I see in today’s paper that Jamie Oliver’s new restaurant, which is about to open Fifteen Melbourne, is charging a $50 deposit on bookings! Evidently it is already booked out until January!

Sunday Brunch at The European in the city, on a wind-swept rainy day, with the narrow, extremely European restaurant choc-a-block with chatting couples clutching shopping bags, groups getting together for weekend catch-ups, singles – all appearing very happy with their environment. The place has very friendly, well patronised- feel. Many of the diners are clearly regulars. I notice a well-known politician, former leader of the Liberal Party, looking as if he’s trying not be absorbed into the Parisian-conservative-chic dark wooden panelled and black-and–white parquet floor décor. There are bottles galore – a professional pub-like atmosphere with the focus on European wine - extensive wine lists, digestives, aperitifs, fortified wines, cabinets of it, shelves round the walls. This is an ideal place to learn about the most European of Australian cities – a great rendezvous for visitors, open all hours, seven days a week.
The long black-aproned staff are efficient and professional. I didn’t have to wait to catch the eye of my server to have my needs attended, while I savoured a glass of 2004 Cotes des Nuits and a superb Blue Swimmer Crab Omelette, garnished with salmon eggs and an excellent mixed salad of mesclun, rocket and various lettuce.
This café/restaurant/wine bar in Spring Street, opposite Parliament house, round the corner from Bourke Street, is well positioned for before or after theatre meals or to call in for a coffee and cake.

On to a concert at St Silas’s Anglican Church, Albert Park to celebrate the arrival of a new organ. Listening to a programme including Bach, Handel, Brahms, Mozart and Elgar (Pomp and Cirumstance - what else!), has to be one of the best ways to spend a wet Sunday afternoon!
One of the stage technicians I worked with at The Australian Ballet, spent his spare time on tour in other cities attending organ concerts. I wasn’t at all surprised when I learned this after his tragic death, there’s such a shared insatiable passion for culture among people who work in the arts. How lucky we/they are and us – the audience at the receiving end!

Another Week, Another City

2006-09-13T10:55:00.000-07:00

September 4

Spring in Sydney and it is 27 degrees – culture shock after the lower temperatures and grey skies of Melbourne. I slow my pace on the walk from Woollahra to Bondi, stopping on the Bondi road to buy mineral water at an old style milk bar. By the time I reach Bondi itself, I’m in need of a hat and sunscreen. Luckily, they are in abundant supply – this is Sun City – Mecca to beach loving backpackers and locals the world over. The stretch of golden sand is strewn with by bronzed bodies already - at 10 am. Music is blaring, cafes buzzing.
I call in at the gallery of the Bondi Pavilion, a 1920’s building in the centre of the beach. Full cafes probably selling inflated priced indifferent coffee. I head for the local surfers and walkers small secret rendezvous, Speedo’s at the North End of the beach. It’s a little expanded since it first opened many years ago, but still delivers best coffee and bacon and egg breakfasts.

Across the beach, past the magnificently positioned Icebergs centre – exclusive restaurant and club to the stalwarts – many of years, who swim here every day of their lives, round the rocky cliffs on the exhilarating walk from Bondi to Bronte beach.
Japanese tourists are busy with cameras, converged on corners, snapping themselves against the spectacular coastline and big waves.
On the way back, I am planning my glass of Pinot Gris and fish lunch at Sean’s Panorama. Alas, they are booked out, but react to my despair and recommend North Bondi Italian Food over the road. What a find! It turns out to be the second restaurant of successful restaurateur Maurice Terzini, famed for his Caffe e Cucina in Melbourne, former fine dining Otto's (although no longer) and Icebergs in Sydney.
I relax happily into the rhythm of the bustling, denim-aproned waiters who anticipate my every need (what a bonus!), sitting staring out to sea, savouring an excellent Bellini Pinot Grigio, great bread and oil, Crumbed spinach arancini and Fried Calamari with mint and zucchini. A sassy, sizzling Sydney-style place.

Took quite an effort to face another meal at night! Also Italian! This time it’s fine dining at Buon Ricordo in Paddington, Armand Pecuoco’s institution of 25 years. It’s an old favourite of mine, but I am here to sample the changes to the cuisine by a young Roman chef - Massimo Bianchi, I met in London several years ago at his L’Altro, who later gained a reputation at Nobu, before coming to Australia, where he wowed the clientele of the Westin Hotel.
I am drooling over Massimo’s arancini – mouthfuls of perfection! Also an interesting dish – Fettini di pesce spada, of thinly sliced swordfish served with eggplant, capsicum, olive, pine nuts and sultanas. I’ll be back another night to sample more of this style of cooking. Hopefully, next time won’t be blemished by a rowdy party at the next table, which came close to sending some of our party home.

The next day is taken up with a wedding of a special friend – over the road from their house, in the grounds of St Patrick’s Seminary, Manly, with dinner in the refractory - The Grand Dining Room. The band was playing, the rain held off, the bride and groom were both radiant – a very special occasion. A day of friends and family. And they booked the venue long before Nicole Kidman!

September 12.
Another week, another city. Back in Melbourne, I’ve been on the run, Sold my apartment of 12 years – the longest I’ve lived in anywhere. Part of me is wrenched inside – the other part knows I am making the right move. Will have to decide where I want to live – which is basically several places – Melbourne, Byron Bay, Aix-en-Provence, Queenstown, Hawaii!

Moving right along. Friday night was a glorious night of dance. Dance Creation is a springboard for new choreography, instigated by the Australian Institute of Classical Dance, presided over by the Grande Dames of dance – Dame Margaret Scott, Founder of the Australian Ballet School and Marilyn Jones. The Who’s Who of the dance world were at the National Theatre in St Kilda– Garth Welch, Harry Haythorne, David McAllister, Artistic Director of The Australian Ballet, Graeme Murphy and Janet Vernon of Sydney Dance Company, Gideon Obazanek of Chunky Move was coming the following night. Gary Harris of the Royal New Zealand Ballet – in town for the company’s current Australian season of Trinity, was enthusiastically planning to participate next year.

Each artistic director was asked to nominate a choreographer. Graeme Murphy nominated Tanja Liedtke – who brought a group of dancers with her from Taipei University. Her piece – Slight was the highlight of the evening – a fluttering-hand spoof on The Sylph.

Another gem was a composition by Kate Neal Dead Horse 1 performed by her Dead Horse Band (a region in the Snowy Mountains of Australia), in a fusion of classical and jazz.
An uplifting night, observing emerging talent. And a crucial event for the artistic directors – the employers of these future stars. Funnily enough, all the choreographers and the composer were female – a coincidence?

Off to the Slow Food Festival- A Taste of Slow- Australia 2006 (Founded in Italy in 1986 as a response to the negative impact of multinational food companies) in the newly restored Abbotsford Convent, Abbotsford in a glorious green locale, amid acres of native parkland on the banks of the Yarra river. The old convent was bedecked in party finery. White tents dotted the grounds. A Honey Room was installed in a basement, a sophisticated bakery in another, a Russian baker using the original ovens. A Wine Library, Generations Room- for the sharing of inter-generational stories, Tea-tasting Room, Cheese Room.. Stephanie Alexander's Kitchen Garden and Salad Bar.. a hall was given over to Creative Vegetable Children’s Educative play. Cooking demonstrations were being conducted by top Melbourne chefs, forums held on subjects such as slow living, what;s the beef? the cost of fast food and health.

A Foodies celebration of the coming of Spring – the first of many in this emerging arts and craft complex. Fun in the Sun, with yummy things to eat and food for thought.