Moving Houses

Moving houses can be a daunting task. When you’re in a different country, away from family and friends, even the modern technologies of developed countries do not make the task any more fun.

Two of my friends were in various stages of the moving process. One family has been looking for a house in various suburbs, without any luck. I cannot help but wonder why someone would be rejected for tenancy but they have been unlucky enough to experience that. The other family found their dream home within weeks of starting their search. Last Sunday was going to be their big move day. The husband decided that, between him and the wife, they would be able to manage just fine. They booked a trailer and a tri-wheel climbing hand trolley with wheels for the day. A couple of us friends decided to help them, in spite of protests that they would be able to manage by themselves.

I was picked up from my unit at 10 in the morning and we headed to Kennards to pick up the rentals. The first hurdle was getting the agency to accept a non-Aussie driving license as id and providing acceptable identification documents to supplement it. We had to drive home to bring some of the required documents. One of the guys at the store helped join the trailer to the car. Driving the trailer was supposed to be fairly simple, as long as you took long turns at the corners. Yeah sure, until you started to reverse! The trailer moved in the exact opposite direction of the car, swinging by the hinge. Considering how tricky parking a car in the reverse can get (for some of us, it is!), attempting that with a trailer was a near-impossible task. Eventually, we decided to leave the car + trailer parked across the street so we did not have to reverse park.

The boxes and some of the reasonably heavy stuff were easy to manage. The tri-wheel hand trolley was a marvel, in so far as bringing the washing machine, drier and some furniture were concerned. The refrigerator gave the guys a hard time but we eventually managed it all. Three trips and the move was complete, save for the little bits and pieces that they were going to move the next day. In some ways, it was fun. We reminisced about the times we have all had to move in the past. The new house was, obviously, a much nicer place than the old. We walked around, exploring the complex and sharing excitement over the various facilities it accorded.

The best part of day activities like this one, apart from the beer and pizza, are the aches and stains that remain at the end of the day, to speak of the hard work that has been put in. One of our friends, who was baby-sitting the couple’s kid, invited us over for dinner that night. Thank God for that! We exploded a few party poppers, listened to the stories of the kids’ days and chattered incessantly over a delicious South Indian dinner of peas fried rice, chicken curry and beer. Every one of us slept soundly that night. Either tired from the day’s hard work, from handling two hyperactive five-year old boys or, in the case of the boys, from playing all day long, we all had our reasons. 

Of course, the act of physically moving stuff we friends helped with, was only half the job done. The arduous task of packing and unpacking still remained to be done. The excitement of moving and the thrill of starting over should take care of any pain points in that area. I bet having a 5-year old helper makes a difference too!

I cannot wait to see their house once it has been set up. They have the loveliest balcony, huge and perfectly suited for a barbecue or a dinner-and-drinks party. Which, I bet, they will have. I need to make sure I have a free night on my calendar when that happens.

A Day Trip to Bribie Island

How has the new year been so far? Well, it has been all of 3 days and nothing has considerably changed from last year. Unless you count the fact that I haven't worked at all this year and yet expect to get paid for these days.

That's just me being cheeky there. Ignore me and read on. 

The day trip I spoke of in my last post turned out well. The weatherman said there was possible rain on New Year Day and definite rain on Sunday and Monday. As normal, (s)he was lying. It rained on Saturday. Non-stop. Drizzled, increased, stopped, poured, showered and did all of that in various permutations. May I also mention that the following couple of days have been bright and sunny with no sign of showers?

Praying that the rain will not deter my companions from going ahead with the trip, I set about getting ready for the day. I think it almost did in one of them but for my insistence and her baby's excitement at going to a beach. What we would do in the rain, at a beach, we were not sure. We decided to go because the plans were in place. 

As I announced later that day, someone up there really loves me. Or maybe the li'l one. Whatever! It was a couple of hours worth of train and bus journey before we arrived at Bribie. It could have been later but, as I said, someone up there loves me. We hopped off the train and standing right there, ready to leave as soon as we hopped on, was the bus to Bribie. We got off the bus near Woorim Beach and voila, no more rain! A quick scan of the what and where of our surroundings, Kid and I changed and took off towards the water. 

The long stretch of white sand felt great under our feet. The first splash in the brown waters of the Moreton Bay assured us there was no need to acclimatize. Perfect water temperature for a play. There were too many sea-weeds closer to the beach but we wanted to play with the waves further down anyway. It must be all the summer rain, we gauged. The clouds hid the sun but restrained from dampening our beach-day out.

Splash splosh splash. Click click click click. Shower. Change. Time for the bus. Rain. Whooosh.

It poured heartily while we ordered our lunch and spent 2 hours enjoying a yummy margherita pizza from Dominos, a delicious order of pancakes with maple syrup, cream and ice-cream and some crummy French Toast. While someone up there loved me and the kid, it was not the case with the kid's mum. 

She asks a boy on the beach if he would take a picture of us and he goes, "Ummmm... ah... No". 

She orders pizza at Dominoes and we all wait outside for them to call us when it's ready. 5 minutes later, another crowd goes in, orders and leaves with their order. Another 5 minutes and the same repeats. We peep in, the girls are chatting on phone, hugging each other and having a merry time, showing no signs of getting our order ready. Ten minutes later, mum and kid go in & are back in seconds, with the pizza. The order has been ready for a while, we waited for the girls to call us while they waited for us to go in. Duh! Hot pizza, anyone?

She orders French toast while I go for pancakes. We finish the pizza. A massive serving of pancake arrives. We've finished the pancakes, the coffee, a conversation and just missed our bus, so we have to wait an hr. We tease her that they must have forgotten her order. She goes in to check. Sure enough they have! What were the chances of that? When it finally comes, it is a tiny serving, all of 2 slices of bread with a smear of omellette. 

She walks to the bus driver on our way back to confirm that we are on the right bus. The driver snaps at her, "Didn't you see the board before you got in?"

Back to our day trip. Rest assured that her day being snappy did not meddle with the spirits for any of us, her included. From then on, throughout the journey, it rained like the rain Gods were having a gala to bring in the New Year. Stepped off the train at my station and walked into the damp air but no rain. 

As a kid, I used to believe that if I did something on the first day of the year, the rest of the year would follow suit. If that is true, this year is going to be fantastic! So far, the trend seems to be in order. A day trip on the first Saturday of the year. The next two Saturdays have been booked for day events too. All of them involve taking the same train and then another means of transport from the station. Interesting.

Half A Day At South Bank

After 3 weeks of saying I would do it, I finally made it to South Bank yesterday. (Dean, are you listening?). We walked to QPAC and were about to head towards the man-made beach and the markets, when the husband pointed to me a building with a large butterfly on it. The Insectarium level of the Queensland Museum at South Bank. Off we went to check it out.

The Mutt, thanks to wikipedia

We started off on level 2, for that's where we were, with the usual museum-ish stuff like old coins, museum store, a large skeleton of the Muttaburrasaurus Langdoni. The name of this dinosaur comes from the place where it was first found 'Muttaburra' and the man who first found the partial skeleton Doug Langdon. I looked and it and though, "Boy, is it huge", for when I stood  near it, I barely reached up to his belly. Girl behind me is arguing with her boyfriend, "I don't think this is real, it can't be this small". Small? Alright, time to move on.

We walked further down into the world of absolutely beautiful, natural colours and combinations like we had never seen before! The Insectarium with the butterfly, moth and beetle collections of the Butterfly Man of Kuranda, Fredrick Parkhurst Dodd (popularly known as F P Dodd) and his son Alan P Dodd. The exhibition displays 28 beautifully arranged showcases of butterflies, moths and beetles, collection over a period of time from 1917 through to the 1960s. The butterflies are mounted with such perfection and in such a lovely arrangement that one must marvel not only at the patience with which Dodd and his children collected the species but the creativity and patience involved in preparing the showcases. It is no wonder that banker Dodd quit to focus fully on his love for these collections. Until I saw this exhibition (which, I later found out, was a temporary one and not always on display... lucky me), I had never known butterflies existed in so many varieties and most definitely not moths!! Moths in my head, until yesterday, conjured pictures of ugly brown butterfly-like insects. Not any more. The beetles! Jewels. That's what they looked like. There is even an exhibit with 4 beetles in a case, labelled after each of the musicians. 

One of the cases of the beetle collection, courtesy the museum's website

Then, there was the miscellaneous collection of items ranging from fire engines from various decades, bikinis, ceramics, air-planes and just about anything the Queenslanders feel proud of. Another floor up, an amazing number of animals, birds and sea creatures. I never even knew there were so many kinds of those. In Queensland alone? No joking! Then, the exhibits of artefacts created/used by the aboriginals. 

A good couple of hours later, our grumbling stomachs forced us to leave the museum and we left, having covered just level 2 and one of two wings on level 3. There is still levels 1, half of 3 and 4 to cover. Another day. Looking forward to it. 

We walked past QPAC, the Wheel and arrived at the weekend Lifestyle Market of South Bank. The walk-way is pleasant, made especially to protect us from the summer sun, it appears. Called The Arbour, it's touted as one of the attractions of South Bank. The streets were lined with stores, restaurants and fancy places - again, to visit another day. Today, we walked on the side with the food-court, watched the ibises by the flowing water. As we arrived at the man-made beach (Yes Dean, you're right, it is a joke), we hit a crowd of people waiting for a street-performer to being his show. 

The Arbour, courtesy the South Bank website

Steve from Adelaide, was one heck of a street-performer. Have not seen others, so I cannot tell whether his performance was out of the world but it was definitely engaging. He was a great speaker, simply fantastic at getting himself a reasonable sized crowd and making everyone laugh. We went there for a peek and ended up staying till the end. For once, my husband did not want to leave (his usual refrain at such events is, "I'm bored, let's get out of here"). He juggled 3 fire torches, then 4 and finally 5. My favourite was when he balanced on top of a tall ladder, without support, juggled a fire torch, a large knife and an apple, as he took bites out of the apple and talked to the crowd encouraging them to cheer. As if his cheeky comments and sarcastic sense of humour was not enough, he met his match in a little 6 yr old Tess who almost stole his show. "Shut up, it's my show", he said. 

Five dollars poorer after the show, we took a peek at the "man-made beach", and shot off to The Crepe Cafe for some beer and snacks. A beef & mushroom crepe and tomato-mushroom omelette later, we walked back home along the river. The lights reminded us of Clarke Quay in Singapore, only we liked this better. It was 11 degrees and awesome for a walk. Back to Queen Street Mall, the familiar crowd, past the painter beginning to set up his show, down the usual stores unusually open late on weekends, a pit stop at a couple of troopers... we arrived at home. A book, sandwich and cop show later, blissful sleep.

What's on for tomorrow?

5 Fascinating Minutes

I had a scary ride back home from work, nearly hit a few times (as is normal if you're riding or driving in Namma Bengaluru) and bullied off to a wrong turn on the flyover, bothered by sadistic guys with nothing worthwhile to do with their lives... In short, I spent most part of my ride mentally cursing the traffic around me, people on the streets and anything but enjoying the ride. By the time I reached the gate to our building, I was still fuming and decided to vent on my blog tonight. 

I stopped at the gate, saw the neighbour's kid playing cricket in front of my garage again and felt like kicking his dad for teaching the son such unhealthy habits. He constantly hits my car and one of these days, he'll go home with a broken bat. So, that was my state of mind at 7PM tonight.

And then the sweetest thing happened to me. In the next 5 minutes, the weariness of my entire day and the ride had just slipped off me! I met the cutest kids ever. 

The first one came running to me (call him A, for I'm such a douf that I did not ask their names). Pointing to his head he says, "Aunty, what is this?". "My helmet. Do you want to wear it?", I asked. He is quick to refuse "No!". 

I just start to ask him why when the next kid comes running to me (say, B). "Aunty, what is this?", he's pointing to the back of his palm. I smiled at him and said, "Those are gloves" but did not ask him if he wanted to wear it. Maybe he did not. I did not wish to remove them either.

Kid C comes running and says, "Aunty, I want chocolate!". The smile on my face is plastered. Such adorable kids. "Hmm, you want chocolate, let me check if I have any", I said as I mentally prayed fervently that it was one of those days that I did have a chocolate in my backpack. I remember throwing a bar of Cadbury's Fruit and Nut in my bag a couple of days ago but I was not sure if this was the bag. 

I release my backpack from my shoulders and slide them down, almost to the ground. I'm trying to desperately find the bar of chocolate from underneath the bags in my backpack, containing my work clothes, shoes and papers. Kid B yells, "Aunty, you have a dark blue bag, so nice!". I asked him if his favourite colour was dark blue and he shakes his head, "No, I like light blue". I can't help laughing. 

It was an awfully cute moment. The kids were so enraptured by everything I carried. I fish out the chocolate bar and Kid B screams again, "Aunty, you have chocolate!". His eyes widen and he has excitement written all over his face. It was the most beautiful moment of my day. My week, maybe. Or even this year! Kid C, who had momentarily moved to watch the elder kid play cricket, came running. All the three of them huddled close, eagerly watching as I unwrapped the bar and started breaking chunks off the chocolate.

I gave them each one piece and ate one myself. Not one of them said, "Thank you". When I was a kid, manners were hammered into our heads. I remember my dad dragging me down the stairs to say "Sorry" to the neighbour in the flat below us when I was apparently rude with her. Back then I'd thought I was funny and I had a big ego that would not let me apologize but the fear of dad's hands making contact with my teeny ass compelled me to apologize. 

Coming back to this evening, nobody thanked me. I almost said it aloud and made them thank me. In an impulsive moment, I stopped myself. I did not want to hear them say it. I could see it in their excitement. They did not throw tantrums or ask for more. When I broke off the fourth piece saying, "I also want to eat chocolate", they just watched without a word. I faintly wondered if they thought it was such a waste of good chocolate for an "aunty" to be eating but hey, they were sweet, did not say a word. 

It was such a pleasure to see that one small chunk of chocolate could make each child so happy. They hopped off, after they ate, for I had stuffed the rest of the bar back in my bag. I wondered if I should give them more but I was not sure if their parents would appreciate it. I'm lying. It's just that Fruit & Nut is my favourite, I do not ever want to share it. The kids made me feel like a million bucks, I could not have not shared with them. 

I parked my bike, locked it and came home to a warm welcome to another cutie-pie. My baby Lucky. Wagging her tail and rubbing herself against me. Twenty seconds later, she was sniffing at my bag. Mmm, chocolate! So easy to give it to her and watch the happiness wash over her face but I could not, it is poison to her, no matter how much she might love it. Surprisingly, she was as well behaved as the kids downstairs. She did not persist or beg further. 

I met the most delightful kids today! Oh, how I adore them... even when they say the darnest things!