Sarah's Churchill Adventure

The final leg - LA and home

2010-11-02T03:32:00.000-07:00

Sitting at Gate 101 at LAX somewhat too early for my flight - 90 minutes until take off but less than that in battery power on my computer so hopefully I can get this written, as once I get home there’ll be precious little time for blog writing.

So the highlight of the flight from San Francisco to LA was star spotting – Lindsay Lohan – NO, Sean Penn – NO, Kim Kardashian – NO. Dennis Commetti – YES. I was so excited I even heard him talking (the best part in my view – that gorgeous deep voice) to other people not me as I was too shy to go and say “Hey Dennis, I love your work” – actually I would have, had I been near enough but the opportunity was fleeting and I missed it. I must say for a slightly past middle age sports commentator (you do all know who he is DON’T YOU????) he had rock star presence. All in black – tall and wearing classic Ray Bans at every opportunity – cool dude.

Anyhow in a flash I was in LA and in the company of my lovely buddy Eva who sadly has a broken foot but was just mobile enough to go out if I did the driving. So we caught up in her house for a while on Friday afternoon and then headed out in her cute Prius for the evening, first to a cocktail party by the pool at the iconic Sunset Tower hosted by Austrade. The view was magnificent and we sipped wine and cocktails and chatted to the mostly Australian and a few American guests. I came home with a few business cards and so stupidly went out without mine – on reflection maybe not a bad thing but it felt silly at the time.

Some of the conversations I had were sooooo LA (well to me they seemed that way to me - just a totally different way of talking about the business). I overheard a conversation that went something like this (in American accent) Does anyone have anything for Ashton? Ashton really loves Australia and would love to do something there.” I immediately tried to imagine all those Australian screenwriters busily writing screen vehicles for Ashton Kutcher – like it’s so not something that anyone would think to do (would they???). It just struck me a ludicrous idea but what would I know.

So after a bit more of that sort of silliness – Eva is much much better at assessing who’s worth talking to and worked the room magnificently – charming and flirty in just the right measure.

So after an hour or 2 at the Sunset Tower (the scene where Tim Robbins is pitching in the Player was shot there and they hold the Vanity Fair post Oscars party there too), we headed of to Soho House – the private club on the top floor of a magnificently positioned building – for dinner. Ridley Scott was dining a couple of tables away but I was actually feeling way too tired to care. The club was lovely and full of people who were someone in LA (it’s that kind of club – you need a recommendation to join) and we had a nice meal with a stunning view. Then home and to bed but unfortunately I had a killer headache that was dulled for precisely 4 hours by Panadol and then I woke up. I think my neck was out from all that dragging my luggage up those hills in San Francisco. So not much sleep was had but in the morning I did some yoga and took more painkillers and that got me through the next day.

So Saturday started at the Chateau Marmont for Lunch. The Chateau is classic old school Hollywood – very romantic faux 1950’s medieval Chateau style (okay that sounds like a mess but it’s Hollywood – run with me on this). We sat in the garden – perfect weather, ate old fashioned food that was really delicious – crispy haddock burger with home made tartare sauce and super thin fries – shared that and some crab cakes and they brought it all out already split onto 2 plates which was just simple and elegant. Really relaxing in the garden – a little oasis in the middle of LA.

Eva lives just a little way up in the Hollywood Hills and the area is very charming but she’s looking for a house a little further up the hills so later in the afternoon we went for a drive and looked at some other areas and a house she’s interested in. Really interesting to see all the architectural styles and flash and less flash houses. The hills are really lovely but we also had to do the obligatory drive through Beverly Hills where really it’s just like Toorak – just more of it and I’m sure there’s some over the top houses – but the usual follies – Faux Versailles, chateaux etc.

We needed to squeeze in a bit of shopping too as a couple of gifts were needed for family – things I hadn’t wanted to cart all across the US – especially on American Airlines. By the way – I managed to get on to Qantas with no excess baggage charges. I’m not saying they weren’t due, just that I didn’t have to pay them – triumph!

So then last night was the big highlight of LA – dinner as Bazaar – oh I don’t have all the details like the name of the famous Spanish chef or the hotel where the restaurant is but just let me say it was an amazing night of gastronomy. Foam, Gel, smoke and all kinds of chemistry experiments – all of them totally sublimely delicious. We ate many small courses and some of the highlights were the amazing lime, vodka cocktail frozen with liquid nitrogen so the consistency is so smooth it tastes like a cloud. That was sublime and it acted like a palate cleanser in between courses too (so convenient). Olives to start with – real ones stuffed with amazing anchovy cream then jellied recreated ones that exploded in your mouth – just wild. Another highlight was – there were so many - tiny crisp cones with light cream, dill and caviar – tasted just like a New York bagel – but just a mouthful. Bliss. There were many other wonderful things including a Brussels sprouts dish that was heaven ( I konow you all hate Brussels sprouts but trust me it was good). Once we were feeling a bit full we moved tables to the patisserie – away from the black and red theme to a pink and silver Phillippe Starck zone where we shared the most amazing cocktail (since the frozen cloud) a passionfruit martini – strong alcohol sipped through a gorgeous foam layer at the top – all with intense passionfruit flavour. Each sip just held in the mouth and enjoyed to the full before swallowing. For dessert we shared a snap frozen coconut ball with banana and toffee – loads of amazing flavours and textures and then a chocolate dessert also sublime with loads of different textures and flavours. I can’t tell you how thrilled my taste buds were all evening. We just laughed and laughed at how lovely it all was – and you know the cocktails were the perfect companion. Usually I drink wine but somehow the cocktails really complimented the food perfectly – and they were such technological and culinary masterpieces.

We came home happy but not too full and not too inebriated.

Sunday began slowly with a bit more yoga for my neck. Then it was time to pack my suitcase for the final time this trip. Very nervous about getting everything in but actually it all went in quite well but I stuck to my plan to ditch the trolley at the airport so I gave it to the guy at flight check in and he was happy to get it (and maybe that helped me get away with the baggage excess).

Then we went out to brunch at a lovely restaurant which I think was called Jar but honestly I didn’t concentrate on the name. Inside was very plushy (not in a get dressed up as a stuffed animal way) and comfortable. We ate with a few of Eva’s friends – an artist called Mary (I didn’t catch her other name) but she was obviously talented and had a wonderful outfit on – I liked her immediately. Eva’s other friend Sarah whose husband is away making a movie in eastern Europe – she has a glorious southern accent which I just love listening too, and the other friend was a rather famous photographer called James who photographs all the stars and makes them look beautiful – more beautiful than they are in real life of course. We ate melt in the mouth brioche with caramelised walnuts and then a rather wonderful omelette – you can tell I’m a girl who loves my food. Good coffee too.

Back home for a final bit of packing and then back to Soho house, which this time was very quiet. I had a light early dinner before my flight and a lovely pot of earl grey tea – Eva had tea and cookies. We lounged back on their super comfy couches and watched the sun set and the day give way to evening. A gorgeous end to a lovely weekend and an amazing trip across the world. Something of a contrast to much of the work I’ve been doing but a life with contrasts is a good one I think – it helps to keep all things in perspective.

I’m really looking forward to getting home and getting back to family and friends – hopefully catching up with many of you in the coming weeks.

Actually to be honest I’m a little bit worried about what I will find when I get home as I don’t think the builders have been as productive as I would like while I’ve been away. Progress has been slow according to the accounts I’ve heard – so that might be a bit dreary.

So thank you all for following my adventure and hopefully in the not too distant future I’ll be inviting you all to come and see the film that comes from this journey.

At short post script - Flight home was all good but home itself remains a full on building site - It feels like the builders have done about 1 week's work in the 2 months I've been away. I had hoped that the house would be largely livable by the time I returned but no such luck. Plaster dust in every nook and cranny, cool winds flowing throughout due to incomplete windows and walls. Highly unlikely it will be even close to ready by the end of the year and we all know how productive January is so it's frankly a depressing prospect of many more weeks or months of renovations and living rough. Bloody builders!!!

Anise mousse with sweet potato crisps

Candy floss

Phillippe Starck patisserie - very Y2K

Passionfruit Marttini - sublime

Frozen coconut with toffee, banana & passionfruit

Chocolate of various textures and flavours

View from Eva's house

Mission Accomplished

2010-10-28T22:39:00.000-07:00

So the Chinese remedy, homeopathic approach to having a cold while travelling and having a ton of work to do just didn’t have any impact and Wednesday morning I woke up even sicker with 2 days ahead of me of filming and meetings and carting my kit all over San Francisco and the Bay Area. It was time for some serious cold meds from the pharmacy and so I found myself in possession of 5, 24 hour slow release pseudoephedrine tablets (after showing my passport to prove I wasn’t a drug trafficker). I’m not much a of a one for pharmaceuticals but this was an emergency and they work a treat by basically dehydrating everything – including your sinuses. Been taking them for 2 days and they truly are the difference between functioning and bed. Problem is that I forget to eat and then start to feel really weird. Not an ideal way to be but better than the alternative.

So as well as the meds I also decided that taxis were crucial for my survival over the next 2 days. I’ve not really scrimped on hotels but I have needed to rely on public transport most of the time and limit my use of taxis – especially in London when I was travelling out an hour out of the centre and would have cost a small fortune. But now my little trolley that I take the lighting kit and tripod on has lost its oomph – the elastic is slack and the trolley itself has bends in all the wrong places – basically it’s no longer the taught little number it was in London, and if I take a step with too much of a bump then everything shifts and falls apart – and I look like a bag lady in the street trying to put it all back together again. So at this end of the game I reckon I deserve to take a taxi if I need to and my illness means I really need to.

So yesterday I took a taxi to Richmond, which is at the end of the BART line – a $60 trip. The other problem here is that unlike in London where you could travel by train for an hour to someone’s house and yet they lived about 3 minutes walk from the station, here they live about an hour and a half walk or several miles from the station so you’d have to either get on a bus and walk or get a taxi from the station anyway. The suburbs seem very spread out here as I’m sure parts of Melbourne are too, but I just don’t need to use public transport there in the same way (thank goodness).

So where was I …. Oh yes the taxi to Richmond. There I met with Kitty Cone – or Curtis Cone as is her real name – the first female Curtis I’ve met. Kitty was a charming and eloquent interviewee and we talked about the 504 sit in which was a protest in the 1970’s where people with disabilities occupied a government building for several weeks (I got all the exact details but my mind is a sieve when it comes to exact numbers and dates). It sounded like a classic hippie protest only most of the participants were disabled. They were fed during the protest by many community groups including the black panthers who brought in delicious food.

She also talked about the difficulty of becoming a parent and how happy she was when she finally adopted her son who is now grown up of course as Kitty is now 60.

After that I took a $30 taxi ride to the first ever Independent Living Centre in Berkeley - supposedly where the history all began. I'd been warned that the place didn't look like much but as the driver pulled up I could have wept at the appearance of the place. The plainest facade imaginable with the words Independent Living Centre established 1974. There was urgency however as they're moving out to the brand spanking new Ed Roberts Campus next month so the history will be gone. Inside the place made the old Open Channel in Fitzroy look glamorous.

I had arrived totally unannounced and was invited in to meet one of their advocates and record an interview. It was after 2pm and I hadn't eaten and was feeling really sick from the drugs I’d taken for my cold so I wasn’t really in the best frame of mind. For once I didn't set up lights and really rushed it all. This was regrettable actually because the guy was really articulate and had interesting things to talk about and I feel that I didn't do him justice. Fortunately it’s really the only time it’s happened like this but I’m sure I’ll kick myself for not putting up at least one light. When I’m hungry however my sanity is really borderline as many of you will know so that’s my excuse even if it’s a poor one.

After that I took another cab to the new as yet unopened Ed Roberts Campus to get a couple of shots of the exterior. Nearby in desperation I ate Mexican style vegan food in this weird little shop - I have no idea what I ate - glug of various consistencies, some of it spicy some not, different colours too and a bit of salad on the side which was the only identifiable bit. I began to come back from the walking dead enough to battle my way up and down escalators via the train to home.

The walk back from the station took me through the Tenderloin district dragging my cases between 2 homeless blokes pushing shopping trolleys. I think they were trying to make me feel like I was part of their gang but it wasn’t working and the hills or course are a killer here. I was gasping and dehydrated as I have been for 48 hours now.

San Francisco is actually the only place where I have often felt slightly unsafe. There is a great deal of poverty and homelessness here - and litter, which makes an otherwise pretty city look rather down at heel. Interestingly the BART station that the hotel staff recommended I use is about the same distance away but goes through a much nicer area only a few blocks away so now I know why they suggested that station instead of the one I tried yesterday.

So today again I needed my medication and taxis and headed out to Berkeley to meet with Joan Leon – key fundraiser for the Independent Living Centre, then for the World Institute on Disability and then for the Ed Roberts Campus. I’m sure that woman has raised in the vicinity $100 million in her career and without her the movement could not have been as successful as it was. Of course she was terribly modest about her achievements but I could see that the Berkeley movement was very fortunate to have had the commitment and hard work from this lovely woman.

By chance Joan lives 2 doors away from Ed Roberts’ mother Zona who is ninety and still going strong. If I met her in the street I would pick her as being about 70. Zona has done plenty of media in her lifetime and at first I was worried that her story might have become routine to tell. After a few minutes however she relaxed into a very open and casual style of story telling which suited me fine. It was one of those seemingly effortless hours where all I had to do what coax gently from time to time but she really gave me everything I could have wished for and more of their story. She was only 18 when she had Ed and so they were very close – she says they grew up together which I can understand as I had a similar experience with Jasper.

So Zona told me lots about Ed including that he smoked pot (which she didn’t always approve of but it was his way of relaxing and she wished it was legal). She said she worried about a man of his standing in the community getting busted for possession of marijuana as she thought it wouldn’t be a good look. I’d read that Ed was a “stoner” but I wasn’t sure I would get it on camera but 2 people told me today so I’m comfortable with that if it makes it into the film. I particularly like the vision of a guy who uses an iron lung and a respirator smoking anything, let alone smoking pot.

There was much more that Zona told me – a lot of personal information that I probably won’t use but was very interested to hear. It seemed that nothing was off limits but not all of it is relevant. For those of you who don’t know, Ed contracted polio at the age of 14 and was left paralyzed from the neck down. He became a key figure and leader of the disability rights movement until his death in 1995 aged 56. Zona worked in the disability rights movement too and I got a sense that she and Ed were quite close for most of his life. At the end of the interview she told me almost as an after thought that another one of her 4 sons had been murdered at the age of 29. She described that as a greater loss because unlike Ed he had not lived the full life that Ed had.

As I was packing up the camera she said to me “I’ve had a wonderful life, I’ve been very lucky actually.” I thought to myself that this is not a woman who dwells on the negatives in life.

After that again it was past 2pm and I was starving so Zona made me a chicken and salad sandwich which I devoured in record time before hiking further down the road, chasing Zona who was dragging my camera bag at speed to my next interview.

The third interview for the day was with Susan O’Hara – another early student at the Berkeley Campus. Joan had arranged for me to interview Susan because of her availability in the same street as Joan and Zona. We both weren’t sure whether she would have a major contribution to the story but the conversation unfolded and she told me of her first hand experiences living in the Cowell hospital where disabled students at Berkeley lived at the time. She described it as a wonderful time where she really found her identity as a disabled woman where in the past she had avoided all contact with other people with disabilities. I think we both really enjoyed our conversation and I felt that although it was a fairly brief interview, she certainly made some interesting points that I would love to find a place for in the story.

The final interview for the day was a short taxi ride away with Hale Zukas. Hale is an important figure in the movement as he was there from the beginning lobbying for curb cuts and attendant care services. He was also one of the original founders of the first Centre for Independent Living. This was a more difficult assignment as Hale has a severe speech disability and refuses to use a communication aide. He had an interpreter who sat with him and explained to me what he was saying. There were times when I thought I knew what he was saying but her translation was actually quite different. He certainly told her off if she got it wrong so I can only assume she was right most of the time but he certainly was hard to understand. Because of the slowness of his communication I didn’t get to cover as much ground as I would have liked but I’m hoping there’s enough to include his voice as I strongly believe that people with speech disabilities should be heard especially in stories such as this.

At the end of it all Hale’s house was quite close to the Ashby BART station so I caught the train home – the wrong one in fact and ended up on the wrong side of town and with an extra half an hour to get home to my hotel.

So after 26 tapes, 27 interviews, 10 cities and fifteen different ways to turn on a tap I believe it’s almost mission accomplished.

Tomorrow I head off to LA for a weekend of fun with Eva (my friend and former business partner – we made our first 2 films together). She’s got a broken foot so I’m the designated driver – so long as she’s in the car next to me telling me where to go.

I get home Tuesday morning just in time to put a bet on the big race…. If only I had a clue who’s running and who’s hot.

No pictures today as I’ve had my head behind the movie camera for 2 days.

San Francisco

2010-10-26T22:52:00.000-07:00

Feeling rather overwhelmed by a cold as I write this. Woke up Sunday in Austin with a sore throat and by Monday in San Francisco it was an irritating cough and now it’s a full blown runny nose, cough etc. Been taking cold remedy every 3 hours but I think I got started too late for best effect. Tonight I saw a Chinese reflexology shop at fisherman’s wharf and spontaneously decided that’s just what I needed to fix me up. Sat through a half hour foot work out and it was nice when it stopped. “Drink Ginger in hot water and tomorrow you will feel better” promised the man so I am obligingly putting my faith in all things Chinese to get me better asap.

So I survived another encounter with American airlines – this time $65 poorer because they insisted that my Qantas round the world air ticket did not include any baggage and I must pay for my checked luggage. Three days earlier this was not their policy but who knows this stuff – I’m sure they make it up as they go along. I spent more than 30 minutes at the check in counter while they muddled their way through the contortions of my ticket and I took my revenge by refusing to pay cash and making them go through further rigmaroles to process my Australian debit card. I didn’t see why I should make it easy for them to take money from me that I didn’t think I needed to pay and besides I wanted evidence of this silliness.

Delayed in Dallas for two and a half hours waiting for fog to lift in SF so I attempted to watch the NFL game on the television. I don’t know why as it was incredibly stop start and consequently really boring. I did see a new twist on the Lycra marathon though (my affectionate reference to Stella’s annual end of year ballet concert) which this time involved beefed up blokes in the shiny skin-tight textile.

So arrived early evening into SF, which didn’t seem to matter as it looked as if it had been a dreary wet day. Hotel Vertigo is the perfect cheap and cheerful pad. Great kooky décor, clean and smart with no frills and under $150 a night. Front desk staff friendly and as usual no tea and coffee facilities in the room but I’m used to that now and I have my trusty water boiler.

Monday the sun came out and although there was a wintry chill in the air it was a beautiful day and locals were in short sleeves. I headed off to Berkeley to the University of California where arguably disability rights started in this country when Ed Roberts was enrolled (of course they go back further than that but it’s a handy story). I had ordered some archival material from the Bancroft library where they have a substantial collection of interest to disability historians like me. The place is like Fort Knox and security measures are intense. I was able to view a couple of pieces of video that might be useful but couldn’t copy anything even for draft use, which was frustrating. Also I was hoping to see the 60 minutes story on Ed Roberts but it turned out to be a transcript not a video – such are the mysteries of libraries and if I were a librarian I probably would have picked that one – but I’m not.

The most interesting thing of all was a box of files relating to Ed Roberts (the so called father of the independent living movement) that I spent time browsing somewhat aimlessly through. My vision of Ed was from a widely circulated picture of him released upon his death in 1995. The picture is of a smiling middle-aged man slightly reclining in his wheelchair with a breathing tube in his mouth. Aside from the paraphernalia of his disability he looks like any ordinary cheerful middle-aged bloke. People talk of his charisma and he was obviously a gifted and much loved leader but I didn’t really get that from anything I’d read about him until I went through the box. It was such an interesting experience to immerse myself and try to get to know the man.

What I found were photos of Ed with his son Lee and photos of him as a much younger and actually rather good looking man. As a younger many I could see how attractive he was and the sparkle that was still in the eye of the older man seemed somehow naughtier in the younger Ed.

Then I read a story written by one of his attendants who wrote about going into the Ed zone when he worked with him. He talked about travelling with Ed and how Ed liked nice hotels. He said that for hotels, accessible rooms mean big bathrooms and the rooms themselves were not necessarily big enough for Ed to move around in his wheelchair. Ed used a bed-pan not the bathroom and the size of the room was more important than the bathroom amenities. So Ed would get his attendants to go up and inspect the room before he went in. He quipped to one hotel receptionist “I shit in the bed I don’t care about the size of the bathroom.” This and a couple of other funny, rather earthy stories suddenly made me see that Ed was funny and frank and I felt like I knew him so much better – and I liked him a lot.

My day getting to know Ed was tinged with sadness however because the previous night on arriving in San Francisco I received news that Anne McDonald had died rather suddenly on Friday night. Anne’s story became an important part of our own disability rights history when she went to the Supreme Court to win the right to be released from an institution back in 1979. Last year I recorded a small celebratory lunch that she held at her home where she lived with Rosemary and Chris. The lunch was to celebrate 30 years since her win in the Supreme Court and 30 years of freedom she enjoyed living with Rosemary and Chris. Anne and Rosemary wrote her story into a best selling book and also an acclaimed Australian Film “Annie’s Coming Out” which is one of Stella’s favourite films. I had hoped to include Anne in this film I am making now. I have met her several times over the past couple of years and I know she will be greatly missed by those she was close too and by the rest of us who knew her a little and were touched by her humour and her story.

When I came home from my day at Berkeley with the box of Ed I was super excited to find that 3 crucial interviews have fallen into place for Thursday - actually now I have 4 – Joan Leon (co-founder of the World Institute on Disability plus plus plus), Zona Roberts (mother of Ed), Susan O’ Hara (with an interest in accessibility in France among other things) and Hale Zukas (one of Ed’s contemporaries who works at WID).

But first today I interviewed Mary Lou Breslin who is a key figure in disability law and gave me some wonderful material including a great description of the distinction between Human rights and civil rights (might be obvious to the rest of you but I was having trouble getting my head around it), and a really nice observation from the American point of view of the differences between the UK social model thinking and the American social model approach – similar but different. You’ll have to watch the movie and I know these are plot twists where you’re desperate to know how it all works out – Yeah!

Missing Judy Heumann in Washington I thought was a real blow to this film but now that I’m here I know that I have enough of the other key people to make it valid plus my own selection of the less obvious but I believe important and interesting people who really make this movement unique.

The next 2 days are pretty full with appointments and things to do so this afternoon I took myself out to buy some videotape as I’m worried I’ll run out (4 tapes left and I probably need 5 or 6). After that I caught a tram down Market street to Castro Street, walked along to Haight Street and along through the hippie precinct that is so famously San Francisco. I must say that San Francisco has a noticeably larger population of weirdos and homeless people than any other place I’ve been to on this trip. On the noisy crowded bus on the way home I had a man next to me giving deep and meaningful (and slightly boring) counselling to a friend on his phone while a rowdy bunch of black teens newly excited by their gayness shrieked and squealed at their phones and each other “I hate your bored ass bitch too” (said with affection if you can imagine it), was one classic line shouted into the phone. Honestly it was like they were talking another language. Unintelligible and over the top.

So, apologies for another instalment with probably way too much detail. Only a week until I get home and stop this ranting about the minutiae of my days.

UC Berkeley - very pretty campus

Haight Ashbury district

Bizarre view from torturous Chinese foot massage

Friendly Texans Save the Day

2010-10-23T20:11:00.000-07:00

After the misery of finding myself in a hotel on the 10 lane highway that I now know is the main highway that runs form Mexico to Canada (outside by front door thank you very much) today I decided to just tackle the place head on.

First up my interviews with Bob Kafka and his wife Stephanie Thomas – great stuff from both of them and totally made the trip to Austin worthwhile. Bob is a great activist with the real fervour of the 70’s still in him but really articulate too. Stephanie too gave me a great interview building on themes I explored with Bob – the history of ADAPT, Justin Dart a fellow Texan who travelled to every state in the union twice collecting personal stories of discrimination as well as talking strategies with politicians and activists in the lead up to the ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) in 1990. Justin’s story need to be told so it was great that Bob was able to share his recollections. I spoke with Justin’s widow Yoshiko earlier in the week but she is very reluctant to talk publicly because of fears about her English and also a desire not to damage Justin’s legacy by saying the wrong thing. I think she is being way too modest but can only respect her position.

After my interviews with Bob and Stephanie I went for a walk to find some late lunch – ended up eating Mexican style vegetarian food – weird but acceptable.

On the way back I got a call from Jasper who I hadn’t spoken to for about a week or so. Nice to catch up as I’ve missed his random outbursts on facebook and on the phone. First night of proper trading at Pretty Please the new club he’s managing and all went well so he’s feeling pretty pleased with himself. While I’m sitting on a seat on the street talking to Jasper on the phone a Mexican looking guy rides past on a bike – he looks a bit like Ollie – Jasper’s former business partner and the guy says hello to me – just the kind of random friendliness/chatting up that seems to happen all the time here and before I know it I’m saying hello thinking that it’s Ollie. Earlier I ran across the road to beat the traffic (that comes at you from unexpected directions) and there were 3 black guys on the sidewalk. One says full of charm “I thought you were running to me baby”. “Sorry mate, just beating the traffic” I reply but these syrupy moments of Southern charm can’t help but make the old girl feel like a much younger girl. Just take it at face value and enjoy it I say to myself.

So then tonight I decided I just had to force myself out the door and see something of what Austin has to offer. I shared a cab with some other hotel guests into town. They were going to see a concert of some band I’d never heard of but who were obviously a headline act. I on the other hand was about to head out aimlessly on my own for the evening – not something I really embarked on with much enthusiasm but felt obliged to get out of the house so to speak.

So after wandering past several bars full of after work blokes and other meat rack taverns I settled on a slightly more classy looking place that served prohibition style cocktails (ie lots of absinthe) and pretty good looking food. I went in, sat at the bar and felt about as comfortable as I could on my own in a bar. There were a couple of nice-ish looking guys having a drink together next to me and when one of them went to the bathroom I struck up a conversation with the other. Turned out they were friendly and unthreatening company. Worked in money markets as some kind of weird engineering nerds who developed electronic trading systems (go figure). So we talked about the world, money markets, Bill Gates, wealth and relative happiness, taxation, philanthropy, Australian politics, economics, a little about documentaries and disability rights and in general it was a stimulating night’s conversation. I ate good food, drank an intoxicating cocktail, a nice glass of red wine and an affogatto with Amaretto – plus a really, really good pasta with mushrooms dish. All in all an agreeable night out with some reasonable random company – just goes to show what you can do if you try. Not really my style going out alone but if I’d stayed in I would have just been miserable.

Funnily the taxi driver on the way home just totally fell in love with my accent. His Brazilian accent too had its charms but he was totally besotted by my voice – I almost got a free taxi ride (no strings attached – “just talk a bit more please”) but couldn’t bring myself to accept. It was a sweet and happy encounter.

So I arrived home probably too early by 10pm but still managed to put away 3 drinks and feel woozy and pleased with myself for making the effort.

Tomorrow I might orientate myself a little more in daylight and try my luck again – stick to the nice bars and not drink too much.

Saturday….

What is it with these darn friendly Texans? You won’t believe the day I’ve had. I decided to make a slow start to the day and maybe head out around 2 in the afternoon as I didn’t want to do too much coming and going in taxis from my hotel. So after lazing about reading and taking my time getting ready for the day – a small luxury without children – I caught a cab to where I thought there might be an area worth exploring. I didn’t really hit the mark straight away and ended up wandering around the same streets I’d been in last night. I wandered in to the Mexican museum and managed to just miss a musical performance, which was a shame. Outside there was a half-hearted attempt at a Mexican street fiesta (maybe things would get livelier later at night) – see pictures for all the weird and wacky “day of the dead” stuff. And some Mexican style band playing music with more than a hint of Country and Western style – my least favourite music on the planet.

So after wandering about there I found the visitor information centre and was guided to the South Congress Area where all the cool shops and cafes are. It was about a half hour walk away in fairly hot and windy conditions but turned out to be a bit of an oasis when I arrived. It’s a bit of an eclectic shopping strip cleaved in 2 by 7 lanes of pretty busy traffic which to my mind spoiled the ambience somewhat but here the car is king so maybe it’s just the Texas way.

It was about 4 in the afternoon and I felt like a meal so I settled into a cool (in both senses) room next to the funky retro Austin Motel. The waiter pretty quickly tuned into my Australian accent and told me how he’d been an exchange student in Brisbane as a teenager. He obviously still loved Australia and Australians and before long he’d suggested that as he was about to finish work for the day maybe he could take me to a bar he was heading out to where there might be some good music. He went to lengths to reassure me that he was dating someone and purely being friendly and so off we went. Ryan meet Sarah, Sarah meet Ryan.

Turned out the bar he was going to is owned by Lance Armstrong and is called “Johnny Mayo’s” or some such – a play on Jeune Maillot I think which is the French for Yellow Jersey. I’m sure I have the name of the bar not quite right and possibly the French translation too but you get the idea – a bit cheesy. So the bar was actually not jumping as expected so Ryan takes me instead on a tour of the Texas Congress building. We talk politics and, music a bit (but my current music knowledge is a bit rusty so I don’t go too deeply there). He’s a drummer working on a solo project at the moment but he had been in a band that toured Poland among other places and he dreams of moving to Poland, marrying a nice Polish girl and growing old under a European health system instead of the American one – I kid you not this is what he told me. He’s 33 by the way. The health system is a HUGE issue in the country.

So after our short but interesting tour of Congress we head back to the South Congress area and go to another bar so he can eat and we have a couple of beers and chat more. We both had a really fun time – he was happy to tune back into Australia and I was more than happy to be taken out and about by a friendly local. I showed him the YGAP teaser on my iphone, we talked about all kinds of things and then by about 8 o’clock it was time for him to go and meet up with his girlfriend.

You can never predict these things yet somehow travelling with a slightly unusual accent seems to open doors and of course you have to be ready to walk through and see what’s on the other side. After Ryan left I wandered around for a little longer but really couldn’t sustain the energy or interest for a late night of music. I felt like I’d soaked up enough of the Austin ambience and friendliness, so I ate some chocolate, peanut butter and banana ice cream – not bad, and jumped into a taxi home.

Beer bottle teeth on the Mexican skull

Ryan my new Texan friend

Shop window

What can I say???????

Chapel Street Bazaar - Austin Style

Ice cream flavors - these has got yer alcohol!

Get me out of Texas

2010-10-21T20:01:00.000-07:00

Well I can’t say I was sad to fly out of Washington today – I probably stayed a day longer than I needed to but I couldn’t have known that 3 months ago when I booked the trip. I used my last day to spend $200 on long distance phone calls from my hotel to California – they would have cost the same on my mobile so you can’t really win when you’re travelling. I just wish people would answer their emails and then the calls wouldn’t be necessary. So I made a few calls to voice mail services and spoke to one or 2 people and sorted out about one thing – maybe 2 so $200 doesn’t really feel like good value. But then it’s not really been a day for good value and at this end of the trip value is becoming rather important as the money is alarmingly nearly all gone.

So I get to check in for my flight and of course my baggage is over weight – but just how much I can’t really tell because it weighs in pounds not kilograms and I have no idea what the limit is in pounds and I also have no idea how much my cases now weigh excepts that I car barely pick it up (and I’m strong). So I hand over $50 for excess baggage.

Then I get on the plane and unsurprisingly my camera bag won’t fit in the overhead locker – American airlines again. So I have to hand it over for check in. It’s the first time I’ve had to check in my camera so I’m a little nervous but I also realise that if I keep the bag with me until the last minute they don’t charge me to the additional item of luggage ($100 excess instead of $50). So do I have to continue this charade of not realising that my bag won’t fit in the overhead lockers for the next 2 flights? – oh it’s all too tiresome. This is a bag that’s fitted in Jetstar overhead lockers and even Easyjet in Europe where they don’t even reserve you a seat – but at least the overhead lockers are big enough for my bag. AA no way.

So my flight from Washington to Austin stops in Dallas so I come over all Sue-Ellen Ewing and need a drink but that’s nothing compared to how I feel when I arrive at my hotel in Austin. Now Austin is supposed to be a very cool and groovy place and I must say I was looking forward to hanging out and possibly catching a bit of the music scene and whatever other grooviness Austin has to offer. Well I can tell you I won’t be catching anything of anywhere at this hotel I’m stranded in – miles out of town right next to 8 lanes of mainline traffic and air conditioned by two of the noisiest air conditioning units on the planet with a decibel level to rival the local music scene I’m sure.

While the hotel itself is newish and smart to look at, I can only recommend it to deaf people with their own cars – who like spicy Chinese food as that’s all that’s on offer to eat – no shop nearby and no minibar. Nothing except traffic within walking distance. The only way to get out of here is by taxi.

I spent 2 hours online trying to find alternate accommodation but it’s the weekend and everywhere that’s reasonably priced is fully booked so I feel I can only stay put and blow the budget on taxis.

I have just one interview tomorrow with Bob Kafka. Bob by all accounts is a legend and an important figure in the disability rights movement but I’m having trouble getting a really good handle on his story and all I have is a handful of scattered ideas and topics for our interview. I just hope he turns out to be one of those great speakers who makes it easy for interviewers because if he’s not I could be in trouble and feeling more depressed about this diversion to Austin.

The view from my hotel - worse than it looks

Washington - Policy and Power

2010-10-19T17:32:00.000-07:00

Up close at the White House

The Oval Office - so beautiful in the gardens

Sarah Barton reporting from Washington

Special event - Wheelchair fabulousness.

It's so male!!

Washington Metro - Pizazz

Australian Embassy - depressingly ordinary - but quaint.

Three days no blog – just been way too tired and busy and I thought I’d give you all a break. Sunday was a real treat actually. The day started off with me feeling too tired to start all over again in a new city. New Public transport system, new map, new sights to see – all felt a bit too much. So I spend the morning sitting in my room listening to the last of may carousing neighbours – gosh they had a good weekend – and writing a submission. Got really into it but by lunch time the sun was beaming in so strongly that I thought I really should get out at least for a little while. Decided to hire a bike again as that’s a great way to see a new city but sadly the automated system didn’t like my credit card so no bile for me – I was forced to walk. Well this actually turned out to be a good thing as I walked down to the White House – about 20 minute walk and had a snoop around and when I got round the other side a man in the street asked if I’d like a ticket to go inside?

Tickets were free and it turns out that the While House Gardens are only open twice a year and Sunday was one of those days. Well the weather couldn’t have been any more perfect and it was a realy treat to get up so close to the Oval Office, West Wing and the entrance to the house as well as seeing the gardens including the famous veggie garden that provides a balanced diet for squirrels as well as something for humans too.

After my stroll around the White house I wandered off in the direction of the capital building which is about a mile away and on the way found myself irresistibly close to the National Gallery of Art (modern east wing) so went in for some more free entertainment in the form of their stunning art collection – all my favourites Pollock, Frank Stella, the pop mob, and my absolute fave who has to be seen live so to speak – Rothko. They even had a special exhibition of black Rothkos in the tower complete with soundtrack from the Houston Chapel where bigger black Rothko panels hang in a non-denominational space for meditation. That was lots of fun – if fun is the word for a room full of black Rothkos.

Next I stumbled into a room full of 19^th century French paintings the likes of which would have them 20 deep for winter masterpieces at the NGV – but my luck only a handful of others were there to enjoy them. Then they had another enchanting display from Arcimboldo the Italian guy who made faces out of fruit in the 16^th century– way ahead of his time. The final room was full of Munch – maybe exciting for many but I just find his work a little dreary. Did an obligatory walk through but couldn’t get excited. The final piece of resistance I stumbled upon was Dali’s last supper – a stunning work – one of his really great paintings which reminded me how disappointing the Melbourne Dali exhibition was filled with so many minor works and not enough really big strong pieces and of course way too many people. I was happier to see just this one stunning piece than to wade through that whole show frankly.

After dragging myself out of the Art Gallery I pressed on toward the Capital building and got close enough for a reasonable photo before turning back towards my hotel which by now was several miles back in the other direction.

Sunday night I had arranged to meet with Curtis Richards who Judy Heumann suggested could help me with my film. Although Curtis wasn’t one to be interviewed he did indeed provide me with some good leads and an overview of who and what I needed to know. The whole meeting however was accompanied by double gin and tonics (the bar man took a shine to me) followed by several glasses of red wine. Needless to say I woke up the next day feeling a little seedy.

Monday I spent the morning on the phone and spoke to the lovely and charming Japanese widow of Justin Dart who sadly won’t be interviewed because she doesn’t feel confident about her English and also doesn’t want to harm Justin’s legacy by misrepresenting his ideas. I can only respect her position but it was a pleasure talking to her. Made more calls to people who were just about to go out of town or weren’t back yet and generally weren’t available for me when I needed them – I think that’s Washington, lots of coming and going.

In the afternoon I went to meet Katherine Ott who’s the disability history expert at the Smithsonian Institute. She had one of the loveliest offices I have ever been in – very homey and overfilled with ephemera and neat piles of papers and books interspersed with interesting toys, many of them figures with some kind of physical difference – including Barbie’s friend “Becky” from the 2000 Sydney Paralympics – pondering her event we decided it was wheelchair fabulousness. Katherine actually gets paid to research and develop exhibitions about disability (always through a rights lens) – I so want her job if only it existed in Melbourne.

By the time I got home on Monday, arrangements for today had fallen into place perfectly. This morning I went to the Department of Transportation to meet with Richard Devylder (check out the video of his story here if you have time http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l96aNpaZ-xc ). I talked to him about transport and emergency services but he also gave some really quotable quotes about rights in general. Smart and succinct – these Americans really do good interviews.

Caught the metro back to the hotel – fully accessible with lifts – yay. Washington DC metro system is a fine and very handsome example of the brutalist architectural style (think Harold Holt swimming pool). Lots of hard concrete but beautifully lit and a lovely touch of red in floor lights along the edge of the platforms that dim lighter and darker when a train is approaching – very elegant. Unfortunately when I took the metro the second time later int eh day I accidently bought a $15 ticket from the machine that I can’t possibly use in the next 24 hours. I’ll have to give it away to someone who needs it more than me.

This afternoon I filmed an interview with Kathy Martinez, Assistant Secretary for the Office of Disability Employment Policy in the US Department of Labor – phew! The interview was pre arranged by the public relations people to take place in the departmental library as all other spaces were unavailable. Only later did it occur to me that filming an interview with a blind woman in front of a library full of books contains more than a hint of irony. At the time I was too busy pulling out all 3 of my lights for a beautifully lit moment – set up, recorded and out the door in less than 90 minutes.

The interview itself again was spot on and as she was talking I could see pieces of the puzzle clicking together – linking to other comments and building on them. It’s exciting when that happens as I’ve shot a lot of material and sometimes I’ve wondered where it’s all going. Kathy says great stuff about employment and also about what we call poverty traps and how to help people take that leap from welfare to employment – especially in America where health care is such a barrier and a frightening chasm to fall into.

So tonight looks like being the first early night I’ve had in ages and tomorrow the plan is to make plans – get ready for Austin on Friday and California next week. I don’t want to get caught on the hop like I sort of did this week so I think a planning and admin day is what’s needed. Boring but true.

Australian embassy I discovered is directly across the road from my hotel room – a smallish, square, Canberra sized building in a town full of oversized, overblown, monumental expressions of American might. Rather quaint in the circumstances.

I love Red Caps

2010-10-16T20:39:00.000-07:00

Only In America

Philadelphia city hall

Delightful Deco

Red Cap waiting area at Philly Station

Arrived in Washington DC (the DC being the most important bit apparently – not even sure what it means) and am now trapped in my room because my door won’t close. If I go out as I thought I would, then my room is left entirely unlocked which is suspect is unwise. So I wait for the person from “engineering” which is probably a handy man who has to travel in from some far flung suburb with a tool kit and mess about with the door for an hour or so … probably in an hour or so when it’s too dark for me to go out. Ah the myriad of minor irritations of travel. Now there’s a cacophony of church bells going off which is quite full on and makes me for a moment think I might be in Paris or somewhere more exotic – sadly that was last weekend.

So I left Philadelphia today and Philly was a very handsome city – lots of lovely art deco buildings and a broadly laid out city of great proportions. It looked to me like it might be quite a nice place to live and the little streets around where my hotel was were charming and had nice interesting shops. This morning there was also a rather swish square with a farmers market selling the usual farmers market offerings.

Yesterday was a big one. Started off at 8am at Liberty Resources which is a large building that houses a Centre for Independent Living that provides independent living resources for disabled people as well as the offices of ADAPT which organises actions or protests for disability rights – their main concern currently is getting people out of nursing homes, where about 1.5 million disabled people still live – many against their will. At Liberty I recorded an interview with Nancy Solandra and she talked about a group of disabled people who marched in 2005 I think from Philadelphia to Washington (about 400 miles). It took 2 weeks and an enormous amount of work to organise and I’m not sure how successful it was in reaching their objectives but it sounds like it was a memorable event. I’m actually surprised how much they are still using direct action as a form of protest as I feel that these days in Australia these kinds of protests are not as likely to be the first line of attack. Maybe I’m wrong or maybe we just don’t have the organisers that they do here.

In the afternoon I took a train about 40 minutes out of Philly to see Johnny Crescendo who was a leader in the UK movement and a singer, songwriter and poet before moving to Philadelphia. He’s still all of the above but just here now instead of there if you follow me. Johnny was great and gave me lots of his time and I think actually enjoyed being interviewed about what he’s done over the past few decades. I also managed an interview with his wife Cassie who’s a leader as well but she wasn’t feeling well so the interview was quite short and certainly not as upbeat as Johnny’s.

Johnny wants to tour Australia so I’d like to try and help him make that happen If I can.

Later ….

So the engineer finally arrived after a second request and indeed was a man with one tool who fixed the door in a flash and got me outside before dark. The local area is quite good for all the essentials one needs so I got myself set up for a few days in the same place and came back weary and watched a movie.

There’s a raucous couple in the room next door and intermittently there’s yelping, loud doof, doof music and then it goes quieter again for a while except for the TV which I can hear quite clearly.

This hotel is quite trashy – claims to be a luxury boutique hotel but actually is a tired old dump with a bit of bling thrown about for decoration. Not cheap either but apparently nothing is in DC.

Right now I don’t really have the energy for a new city – new map, new rail system, new hotel, etc. I wish I was more excited about being here but at present I’m about as excited as I would be if I were in Canberra – actually maybe less so.

Oh dear – I think the couple in the next room are having sex – and the TV is still on. Maybe the sex is on the TV – but I don’t think so. Probably time for me to turn the TV on – loud.

So where was I ….I have loads of material to go through. Tapes to log, DVD’s from Johnny to copy and post back to him, other DVD’s that people have given me to watch, plus a funding application to write before about Wednesday. So I’m thinking that a day at the hotel this week might not be a bad thing.

Two of the people I was hoping to meet in DC are actually overseas – Judy Heumann and Andy Impararto so I’m not sure how things will unfold but last week I feel was really good and I’m also now confirmed to meet with Bob Kafka in Austin (phew – I’m glad I’m not going all that way for nothing) next Friday and I’m also feeling good about San Francisco – my final week in the US. So if DC is the flat point so be it – I just have to get through 5 nights in this dodgey hotel. It feels like what the Chelsea Hotel in New York might have been like had I stayed there – but obviously without the legendary cred as far as I know.

Tomorrow is Sunday and the weather should be sunny and nice. My plan is to get out and bond with DC so hopefully next time I’ll be feeling more positive about the place.

The last thing I want to say apropos of nothing really is that I LOVE the red cap service. Red caps are the super friendly guys who work for Amtrack (the railways) who help people like me with too much luggage and disabled and elderly people on and off the trains. Today in Philly I met Tony who speaks Philadelphian and Italian. Tony was across everyone’s travel movements and was a born organiser I think. He even rang ahead to Washington to make sure another Red Cap came to meet me at the train – sadly Tony himself couldn’t do both ends as he was a star. I’m sure if I went back to Philly in a year he’d remember me by name – not because I’m dazzlingly memorable but just because he’s that kinda guy. Seriously today the Red Caps made my day because any day that I have to move is an issue (3 heavy items of luggage plus heavy handbag into 2 hands is a tricky one). Whose idea was it to bring a lighting kit anyhow?

Philadelphia

2010-10-14T17:18:00.000-07:00

This is the bit I hate about travelling along and NOT travelling light. Transit. I’m sitting at Penn station having narrowly missed having to get the subway to the station with all my luggage. The taxi driver who picked me up from the hotel said there’s been an armed robbery at Penn plaza and all roads were blocked – oh help. Fortunately by the time we reached the relevant corner all the police blocks had been removed and the traffic was able to get through. Was met by a large courteous black man who assisted me with my luggage about as helpfully as I could wish for.

Before I checked out of the Desmond Tutu Centre I managed to squeeze in an interview with Nadina Laspina – a gorgeous looking Italian woman with a long mane of thick dark curly hair and a magnificent face. Nadina grew up in Sicily and arrived in New York at the age of 13. She’s been arrested hundreds of times and currently has the American equivalent of a restraining order against her preventing her from going near any of the public government buildings in Washington DC. She has also brought dozens of law suites alleging disability discrimination against American companies to bring them into line with American disability discrimination law. She’s something of a professional nuisance who agitates for disability rights. I wish I’d had more time to interview her more in depth but I think I still got some interesting quotes from her.

Later....

Took the train from New York to Philadelphia and spent the whole journey chatting with Alan Cohen – a charming retired teacher who was travelling to Philly to give a workshop about dreams and what they mean. We talked a little about dreams and documentaries and a lot about politics about which we seemed to be in furious agreement on a range of policies. Lots of comparisons between the Australian and American system, so the 2 hour train journey passed quickly and pleasantly.

Arrived in Philadelphia in driving rain – and then once I arrived at my hotel had my fist tipping run it - told off by obsequious bell man for not tipping enough. Of course I ended up wildly overcompensating and giving him a tenner and now feel totally confused. Why can't they just pay them a proper wage and be done with it? It's just embarrassing and confusing really but I'm sure Americans all feel comfortable about it. Before I arrived I had asked my friend Eva about tipping etiquette and sh suggested that 1 or 2 dollars was sufficient for moving baggage about - well this bloke just turned his nose up at it - who's got a clue . Then there's the issue of always needing heaps of change in your wallet and I only ever seem to have 20 dollar notes and quarters - nothing in between. Nothing quite as humiliating as a lecture on tipping from an irritated bell man.

Since I left my last hotel 4 hours ago there was the bloke at that hotel who put my bags in the taxi, the taxi driver, the bloke who appeared curbside and helped me into the station (now he was good value and I gave him $5), the bloke who helped me from the waiting room to the train, the bloke who managed the taxi queue at Philly station, the Philly taxi driver, the bloke who helped me get my gear out of the taxi on the street and finally the feisty one who brought my gear up to my room and told me off. That's 8 people who probably expected me to give them $5 - $10 tip each –that’s $40 - $80 plus the taxi fares (which actually were cheap) just for tipping to get form one hotel to another.

In Philadelphia tonight for 2 nights - hotel is cute but no kettle in the room. Room service coffee $7.00 plus $3.50 delivery fee +18% service charge – plus a tip presumably. I think I’ll just get a take out from down the street or go without. Tea $4 plus plus plus the usuals – it can’t be that good.

Went out briefly but the rain is penetrating so I didn’t get far – bought take away for dinner out of resentment at the lack of a kettle when I would have liked room service. The area looks lovely but the weather’s not making it easy. I have a big day tomorrow starting at 8am so I’m looking forward to that – hanging out with and interviewing a bunch of radical activists – a nice contrast to this hotel which I’m finding irritating because of its smug hipness and bossy bell man. I had to call housekeeping just to find out how to drain the sink – what’s that about? I wasted about 4 minutes of my life that I won’t get back trying to find it.

Let’s see what tomorrow brings. A better mood perhaps.

Stacked cars

I've forgotten the name already - the High Path??? Chelsea NY

An altar against boredom - NY

By popular demand - the necklace

New York, New York

2010-10-13T19:22:00.000-07:00

The word from home is that all are safe and well – Stella is missing me and the builders may as well have been in France for all the progress that’s been made on the house … which is rather worrying.

But I’m in New York so can’t do much about any of it.

Yersterday was incredible busy and turned into quite a late night. I began by seriously trying to lock in some appointments for my time in Washington and so far at least one person has come back with great help and support and suggestions for people to meet and things to film. More needed but one is quite good.

I was supposed to ring someone back yesterday in Philadelphia but had to go out and forgot to do it before I left so that’s annoying. My mobile phone bill from Australia for last month was depressingly astronomical and so I have to be really careful about using it. For now I’ve just filed it away under too depressing and ignore until I get home. So not using the phone while I’m out means that following things up is tricky. Anyhooo that’s all a bit boring but in short things are falling into place painfully slowly.

So my outing yesterday involved first going to meet my distributor – well he’s worked for my distributor for the past few years – who was much younger and less corporate and altogether more fun that I expected – sorry Anthony but I’d imagined someone middle aged and a bit crusty and I was completely WRONG.

While I was waiting for him outside the subway station in Brooklyn I was approached by Michael (or John or some very ordinary man’s name), a black man who courteously introduced himself and offered me his hand to shake. “Just done 25 years in jail for killing a man who killed my mother” he informed me. There were more years of misery in that single simple sentence than most people could conjure up in a lifetime. At this point I noticed a large jagged scar around his jugular. We chatted a little more – his objective being the acquisition of some cash from my wallet (by polite begging not robbery) and he noticed my accent but couldn’t place it. For our mutual amusement more than anything I told him he had to guess where I was from before I gave him any money and that task was totally beyond him – despite my hints like – across the pacific, we speak English, etc. It was the Kangaroos that did it – “ah Crocodile Dundee” (he had been away a long time) he finally dawned, but the name of our proud country was still a while coming – “os, os, um oh I know it - Australia”. I gave him a dollar for his efforts, which were probably worth more but I didn’t have the change.

Thankfully Anthony arrived at that moment and saved me from any further details about his sorry life and so he shuffled off.

Anthony and I headed off for a coffee – miraculously we found a place that wasn’t Starbucks and sat down for a long chat and great coffee and cake. The thing that struck me was how envious Anthony was of my situation – the opportunity to travel the world with a simple camera kit and record interviews along the way…. Now lugging my gear on the various public transport systems of the world’s greatest cities (all of which can’t seem to manage to install lifts) makes me feel pretty miserable I must confess. I usually arrive at my destination in a lather of sweat and with new sprains or bruises in unusual places like the finger or the shin. I think I’ve stopped having the anxiety attacks I was having on the London Tube, which was horrendous but it’s still a mental as well as physical challenge. But Anthony’s comments and visible envy made me see my situation afresh and in a more positive light. So now I’m feeling somewhat more cheerful about it all – after all I can hear you all moaning – how dare she complain, of course it’s a fabulous opportunity.

So after my uplifting and fun hour of so talking about the joys of truly indie film making I got back on the subway for a further few stops to meet Warren Shaw – Historian (check out his website to get the full picture www.warrenshawhistorian.com). Warren is a New Yorker through and through and specialises in the history of New York City. Interestingly though his parents both had disabilities and his father in particular was a very colourful character and disability rights activist. Warren had invited me to his apartment in Brooklyn for the interview at 6.30pm and the whole thing went for a couple of hours because he had so much to tell and was a truly entertaining storyteller. He created a vivid world about a little known aspect of disability rights history … and with my new and very lovely additions to my lighting kit the pictures were the best yet.

After I finished the interview it was after 9pm and Warren and his lovely wife Debra invited me to stay for Pizza (2 nights in a row of Pizza – I must be in America. In Australia I’d be lucky to eat it once a year). Anyhow the wine, pizza and conversation flowed and so did the laughter. We all got on like a house on fire and before I knew it the time was after 11pm. Time to get the subway home.

Can I say that I’ve never felt so comfortable and happy in a foreign city – even a late night subway journey seemed just as safe as a day time one. The New Yorkers have been so friendly and warm. No rudeness at all (not like in Melbourne) and nothing is too much trouble – change for a subway ticket in a chemist – how much do you want? No problem. Directions on a street corner from a group of young black men – couldn’t be friendlier. Strangers in the street love my necklace made from sunglasses so much that they all stop me to discuss it. “Wow I love that – did you make it yourself?” I wish I did.

Got to bed last night around 1am and then up with the birds for a day at the American Foundation for the Blind foraging through their archives. Helen the archivist there, though English was as friendly as all the other New Yorkers I’ve encountered. She does her job with an infectious degree of enthusiasm and together we cruised the shelves – row up on row of archives relating to Helen Keller, plus a lot of general material relating to blind people – employment, gadgets, events, ceremonies – all in magnificent black and white. They also have some wonderful old manuscripts relating to Louis Braille and some really really old disability rights texts. It would take months to know and understand their collection and I had about 6 hours.

I decided to sidestep most of the Helen Keller material as much of it is accessible online – one wonderful film clip showed her teacher (Anne Sullivan I think her name was but I haven’t checked it) demonstrating how she taught Helen to speak and understand language. I want to use that clip next to one of Rosemary Crossley showing how she works because they are both equally amazing… but that’s another film.

I decided instead to look for more eclectic images that might work for my film. The day involved white gloves, lots of dusty boxes and some rather interesting and unusual images. Like the makeup without mirrors session from 1965, 2 blind boys exploring a pair of stuffed birds with their hands, and some of the gigantic and cumbersome adaptive technology that now seems so outdated and hilarious – imagine carrying a device the size of a large handbag that reads text? I’m not sure if any of the images I collected will make it into the film but I’m hopeful at least some of them will.

After the day at the AFB I met up with an Australian friend of Eva’s who is married to an American and lives in New York (got it?). We went to somewhere gorgeous for a snack and of course I now can’t recall the name of the place – large and French in style in the middle of Soho. She then took me for a wander through some lovely shops before she went to her dinner engagement and left me to my own devices and to shop some more wander home.

Bought a couple of light souvenirs as gifts and caught a random and not terribly direct subway train home. A long walk along 23^rd street from the subway took me past the infamous Chelsea hotel – where Syd killed Nancy and many other colourful crimes have occurred and been written about. There was art hanging in the foyer so I wandered in for a look. Some attempt had been made to make the reception area look appealing but I got the distinct impression that none of it extended to the rooms. I was glad to visit and glad I wasn’t staying there.

Home to the computer and now off to sleep.

Tomorrow afternoon I take the train to Philadelphia but not before another interview and hopefully a final quick bit of sightseeing. I don’t yet feel ready to leave New York but I must.

I want the light on the left - not a very clear shot sorry

Possibly the worst picture of the Chelsea hotel you'll ever see

I ate all of this - profiteroles with ice cream and chocolate sauce. Now I feel fat.

The big bike ride

2010-10-11T18:57:00.000-07:00

Public holiday in America today so most of the stores were open but the city had an eerie, quiet about it, which suited me just fine. The day began with phone calls which quickly derailed my plans. I’d been trying to make contact with Judy Heumann for several weeks – emails always bouncing back and phone calls unanswered. She’s a major figure in the story of disability rights in America so I’ve been very keen to meet her and our correspondence earlier this year was encouraging and she was happy to meet me. So this morning I finally found her voice on the other end of the phone only to find out that she is going to Libya and other places in Africa tomorrow for 2 weeks and will not be in DC next week when I’m there. Devastation. I’m so disappointed. But she did spend about 40 minutes on the phone to me in between what sounded like a very chaotic morning for her (mobile phone ringing, assistant in tow, husband nearby, friend arriving – all asking questions and needing attention) and she gave me a whole lot of names and phone numbers of other really good people I need to meet. So that made the disappointment slightly less so.

After I got off the phone from Judy I needed something positive so I tried Johnny Crescendo – another key person for my film who I’d been trying in vain to make firm contact with for weeks. That call went much better – he was great value and really ready to help me get to the people I need to in Philadelphia – phew.

These 2 calls took nearly 2 hours and the weather outside was looking way too good. I’d had in mind that I wouldn’t get much work done it being a public holiday and all and so I’d made a plan to go for a bike ride and see a bit of Manhattan. With the sun shining I really wanted to make the most of it so I got out and first went to buy a pair of jeans I desperately needed as my old ones had gone to shreds (lucky too they also needed a wash – a great time to chuck them out). I decided to go the Century 21 the discount designer department store next to ground zero that’s a real bun fight, and strangely as I found out full of French people. I swear 60% of the voices I heard in that store were talking French. Nothing happens quickly in Century 21 and so after more than an hour I actually managed to find jeans that fitted and one or 2 other items that didn’t break the bank.

I quick salad next door and then I was off to find the bike hire place and see a bit of Manhattan. There’s a lot of stuff that’s weird here – they sell cigarettes in pharmacies, there are no acoustic pedestrian lights at intersections (nor in Paris) which means you have to concentrate more when you cross the road, and there’s a million smells that constantly demand attention – much of it bad. Today in the street I smelled brine, rotting rubbish, hamburgers, urine, bleach, fish, exhaust fumes, dog poo, cigar smoke, flowers, toilet cleaner, coffee and probably more things I can’t recall. It’s a constant assault on the senses. Once I got to cycling these smells just got quicker and more intense.

I grabbed a bike from the super friendly bike hire boys near the Brooklyn Bridge and headed off in the direction they suggested for a tour of Manhattan. The bike was really easy and comfortable to ride not like the one I hired in England, and just as well and the ride was well over 2 hours of constant cycling. I rode up along the east river to about 90^th Street, then across to Central Park, through Central Park and out and across to the Hudson River side of the island and then back downtown to near the Brooklyn bridge. By the time I got back I was exhausted – and the guys were impressed by my speed.

The speed was actually necessary as I’d got going a bit later than intended and also because I had a dinner date with a couple of friends of Eva’s who’d offered to provide me with some social interaction. Jonny Santlofer and his wife Joy were absolutely lovely company. Great friends of my friend Eva who now lives in LA but used to live here in NY and I can see why she loves them. Jonny’s a crime novelist and also an artist and his wife is a food historian – what in interesting field. We had loads to talk about over an early dinner at a really good pizza restaurant nearby. That was a lovely end to a day that started out a bit wobbly but seemed to get back on track.

I’m almost asleep as I write tonight and tomorrow I have to seriously hit the phones and make things happen. I also have 2 meetings late in the day – one an on tape interview. So things are hotting up.

Tonight after a glorious day the heavens opened up – lighting and rain on the way home from dinner and then hail and heavy rain just after I got in the door.

Family have arrived home safely according to Jasper via facebook – probably all very tired and grumpy.

Brooklyn Bridge & another

Central park Columbus Day

Your intrepid correspondent

BOO!

Paris to New York with surprisingly debilitating jet lag.

2010-10-10T17:04:00.000-07:00

Kids looking happy before I leave

Last day in Paris - perfect weather - Palais Royale

Desmond Tutu Centre - New York

As I write this I’m somewhere high above the Atlantic munching tex mex nachos – nasty aftertaste, I should have avoided them. This is the first aircraft where my camera case won’t fit in the overhead locker – it even fitted on Jetstar back from Byron Bay and Easyjet to Lyon. Thankfully they must be aware of the shortcomings of their overhead locker as they announced that anyone who couldn’t fit their bag in the locker could bring it up the front for them to stow it (better than in the hold). This might be a drag across the rest of America.

The woman next to me works for Christofle and brought me up to speed with disability regulations in France versus US (as she encounters them in retail). In both countries they have regulations that dictate how much room there must be between displays to allow people with mobility aides to move freely around the stores. I don’t see much evidence of that in Australia. She says that in France it’s governed by the unions but in America it’s legislated and that’s more powerful. I must say I didn’t see many disabled people at all in France and much of it was not particularly easy but then also parts were okay such as cutouts in kerbs – all there but sometimes rugged due to ubiquitous cobblestones. Quite a few lifts but often not obvious and needing staff to assist. For example when we went to the arc de Triomphe I noticed a lift as we were leaving that might have been available for a person with a disability like Stella but I didn’t see any evidence of it on arrival and assumed there wasn’t one. That might also have something to do with language and being less inclined to ask about it in French. Anyhow I’m looking forward to getting stuck into things in America but first I have quite a few phone calls to make as several appointments are not quite well enough locked in yet for my liking.

American Airlines know how to do boring. A 7+ hour flight to New York and only 2 in flight movies – one I’ve seen and don’t need to see again – Where The Wild Things Are and another about Aliens that I never need to see. I do like to while away the sky miles with an in flight movie or 5 so this is rather disappointing especially after Qantas who really know how to do long flights – I guess because we’re so far from everywhere its always long haul on Qantas. I should be thankful that this isn’t really a long flight and all I have is a series of relatively short flights until home – no 24 hour marathon for me. Which is more than I can say for poor Geoffrey and the children. They have a 30 hour marathon ahead of them including 7 hours in Dubai – I say take a tour in an aircon taxi! I hope Emirates is good to them.

Today was the last day in Paris and the weather was stunning – sunny and 25 degrees. I wanted to do a little last minute shopping this morning (mostly really boring stuff like toothpaste from the pharmacy that I can’t get at home) but I also had my eye on a necklace so I was horrified to find when I went downstairs that most of the shops were ferme/closed. What’s that? The French do have some old fashioned ideas about retail hours. Actually I think it’s a great idea for shops to be closed a bit more often but I’d just like to be able to anticipate when that might be. Saturday morning took me by surprise frankly. Anyway the pharmacies were open and also there was a little half hearted street market nearby where I did my final bit of French food shopping – raspberries, strawberries, baguette. Rocquetfort at home – perfect lunch. Baguette rocquefort sandwich followed by berries aplenty. The little jewellery shop that had the necklace I wanted was ferme so I consoled myself with a box of lovely hand made chocolates and sweets to send home with the family under strict instructions – do not open until I get home.

Geoffrey then took a turn vanishing for an hour or so while I fought off the children and packed my bags with half a brain (the children monopolising the other half).

When Geoffrey returned some of the little shops in the arcades were beginning to open and there was some hope that the jewellery shop might open at around 1400h – only an hour before my taxi to the airport. So we headed off for one last walk. The streets were semi deserted but just enough going on to be interesting without being crowded. We found ourselves at one of my favourite places the Palais Royale – just glorious on a sunny afternoon. Just enough time for a quick promenade around the gardens and past the shops and then back to the apartment. Sadly the jewellery shop was still closed. We stood there gazing into the darkened shop forlornly … and then joy of joys the man arrive at 1420h. Just enough time to decide on exactly which necklace was best and make the purchase. Now wait for it this is a necklace made of sunglasses – very rock n roll. I love it. Will make sure I’m photographed in it in the coming days. Happiness – it’s nice to have a funky piece of jewellery to remind me of Paris. I’ve really not shopped much at all so far so this was a nice treat.

then ....

Arrived from Paris last night – got to my room about 4am Paris time – 10pm NY time. Thanks to my friend Geri I’m staying at the Desmond Tutu Centre, which appears to be an old seminary that has been renovated to provide accommodation. The renovation is lovely and the room is really nice and comfortable but it’s not a hotel and there’s no food or room service other than a vending machine in the corridor, which I found today. I guess it’s the same as the hotel I stayed at in London but the problem was that I woke up starving at about 4am. There’s also no fridge or milk in the room – only powdered milk provided (only in America) yuk and a weird coffee making contraption that’s not a kettle but also makes tea. So at 4 am I woke up starving and had a cup of green tea and half a block of the most beautiful French chocolate I have ever tasted. Brought from Paris of course for emergencies.

Another hour or so of not really sleeping and then I decide to get up and find food.

How many different ways are there to turn on a shower you may ask? I asked myself this very question as I stood at 5.45am next to a shower with cold running water. I want it hot!!!! How do I make it hot????? Honestly I may lack imagination but before I left Australia I could have maybe named 2-3 different ways to turn on a shower but now – how many places have I stayed? I think every one of them has a different and puzzling mechanism for getting oneself a hot shower and when you’re half asleep, jet lagged and hungry at 4 am it’s just too bewildering and the brain just doesn’t want to go into the details of diverse shower design. I think our basic hot and cold taps – a bit more hot a bit less cold are almost third world standard – but at least I understand what to do.

So showered and hungry at 6.30am I headed out into the chill crisp New York Street in search of food. I didn’t need to go far before I found a couple of 24 hour old style diners. I chose the one that looked the most like it came out of a sitcom. The waiter was super friendly (as everyone here seems to be) and the omelette would have bounced nicely off the wall, bolstered as it was by an elastic yellow substance they called cheese. After a liberal sprinkling of salt it became edible – just. The potato mush on the side was unsalvageable. Fresh orange juice and a reasonable strong cappuccino (except for the sweet cinnamon sprinkled on top) salvaged the meal. The waiter was curious about why I was there at that hour as the only other patron was an elderly skeleton with a cystic fibrosis like cough who was probably only weeks away from needing oxygen in order to breathe. I was happy to tell him about my travels and he seemed genuinely envious of my chance to see more of the United States than he ever had.

So far the Americans have affirmed my faith in the humanity of the individual to do the best by those they encounter. So friendly and such good company – in a weird way. Even my trip through immigration was like something out of a bad Aussie comedy. My expectations of US immigration were stern and serious – after all security is paramount according to the looped video I watched about 76 times in the queue. Imagine my surprise at encountering the most enthusiastic Australia-phile who just wanted to sped time in the company of yet another Australian. He was so proud of the Saints cap he had on his desk – he’d been to Melbourne for a Saints home and away game earlier this year and followed the grand final with interest. He was also looking forward to being in Melbourne for the Melbourne Cup and spring racing week – for the drinking and festivities rather than the horses. He even proudly showed me a tube of vegemite he had stashed in his bag. In between taking my fingerprints and photo for the giant US computer of data on everyone in the world it was a bizarre but rather enjoyable interlude.

Okay so at 10am Sunday the day is on the move and I either have to get some more sleep or get out and do something with the day. Not sure which was it will go.

Later….

Got out around midday for a bit of a walk despite my weariness. Headed straight to the camera store for some light bulbs I need to operate my lights in the US. The camera shop was abuzz with forelocks and skullcaps – I felt like I was in Balaclava – until I remembered I was in New York – d’oh. Super helpful lighting expert meant that I was happy to come away with $450 worth of new light and accessories. Now I think my little lighting kit has all I need – a new omni light with barn doors. A new soft box for the Tota light and a flexifill for that sustainable solar lighting. Now I just have to fit it all into my kit.

On the way home I wandered through a flea market in a multi level car part. So many fabulous things I could have bought if I’d had a container going spare – mostly weird and fabulous things for the home but the stall that most captured my imagination was the stall selling 1940’s black and white mug shots. Full face and profile of so many personal moments of crisis and bewilderment. Many didn’t look too smart but then the mug shot is no date with Helmut Newton. It was an amazing collection but t $20 - $40 a pop I resisted the need to buy.

Back to the hotel to a bit of phone calling trying to firm up plans for the next 3 weeks in the US. I’ll try for an early night tonight and hopefully a more switched on day tomorrow. Public holiday tomorrow so I won’t get much work done but hopefully the rest of the week will be productive.

Missed flight - oops!

2010-10-08T15:16:00.000-07:00

Well the day began in a fairly relaxed manner until we consulted the travel documents just to confirm our flight times for tomorrow. Actually the date on the documents was today – que? There had been some mix up at Melbourne airport about dates but Geoffrey just assumed it was all sorted out etc etc and long story short Geoffrey and the kids missed their flight home. By the time we realised there was still about 3 hours until the flight left Heathrow but we were in Paris – impossible. Several calls to Qantas and guess what – no available seats until next Friday – one whole week away. So for an hour or so we went through several expensive and not so expensive options for filling in a week in either Paris or back in Romenay or in England or wherever but nothing seemed to fit. Really they just wanted to go home – lovely as it is here when it’s time to go home its time to go home. And besides I’m leaving tomorrow for New York so I’ll be taking all the fun with me.

So another hour or so goes by and we explore other airlines by phone – no joy – nothing for a week, so then I get online and finally I found an Emirates flight with availability leaving in 2 days – that’s only a day later than we thought they were leaving …. But it cost us more than $3000 – plus the cost of an extra night in this apartment, which thankfully had a vacancy. The flight has a 7 hour stop in Dubai too so there’s still more pain to come. So after 5 hours of pretending to the children that I’m not really stressed and everything’s going to get sorted out – it actually was sorted out, at a hefty cost.

22 years ago when I was in France with my friend Mark we had an incident with a flight from Paris to London where they weren’t going to let him board because he hadn’t confirmed the flight the day before. I argued until I was blue in the face with the man at the counter to let us on the flight as we had tried to confirm the flight but it was a Sunday and we were in Alsace and we couldn’t get through on the phone. After what Mark described as an Oscar winning performance before an immovable French bureaucrat, I finally convinced him to let us on the flight (at one point I suggested that the alternative was for us to sleep at his house). So 2 days ago Mark sends me a funny message say “I hope you don’t miss your flight from Paris like we nearly did last time.” Thanks mate – this time I couldn’t talk my way out of anything.

So after 5 hours of phone calls, online flight shopping and excessive credit card use there wasn’t much more we could do. 2pm finally time to get out and make the most of the rest of the day.

Curtis had his heart set on seeing the Arc de Triomph and so we did. We also saw the Citroen Showroom on the Champs Elysees, some very cool French break dancing and lovely views form the Arc. It’s all in the pictures and the video clip. I'd love to upload more of the dancing but the clips take ages to upload and I want to go to bed. Let me know if you want to see more and I'll try again over the next few days.

Tomorrow New York for me and a bit more Paris for the family.

Citroen HQ - Champs Elysees

Arc de Triomph

Squash fest

Gay-Fabulous in Paris

2010-10-07T14:25:00.000-07:00

Cleaned up the house in Romenay this morning – glorious sunshine and warm. TGV from Lyon to Paris but of course the lift to the platform was not working so it just became a sweatfest getting all the luggage and Stella in buggy down via the escalator – after I’d lugged it all to the far end of the platform where the lift is. Then there’s the moments of blind panic when the carriage you need isn’t immediately obvious and you’ve got 10 pieces of luggage to get on the train that arrives and departs at the same time (14.17h to be precise). Massive stress then on the train and all’s well.

L'ascenseur ne marche pas

I love the Saint Exupery station in Lyon - even better from the outside

Cruisin' at high speed

Arrived in Paris, taxi to apartment and WOW the apartment is fantastic. Not only is it huge and gay-fabulously decorated but it’s also in a great part of town. About 10 minutes walk from Galleries Lafayette but also situated in an arcade that is part of a maze of lovely little arcades that sell all kinds of delightful eccentricities such as the French Goth shop that sells walking sticks with exotic handles (try a small skull for example), plus beautifully hand bound bible sized books for those potion and spell recipes. There’s also an amazing jewellery shop that is tempting me with a necklace made from sunglasses – I guess you’ll need to see that one.

Loving this apartment

The walls in the hall have these pics - painted - it works

For instant mess just add children

dinner last night

We went out for dinner in a little wine bistro in the arcades and the meal was good – not mind blowing but good. Anyway the area is great and the shops nearby are not chain stores.

So that’s yesterday and now it’s today.

Today Stella and I got up early (if you call 8.30am early – perhaps could have done better there) and went to Versailles. Stella has wanted to go to Versailles ever since we didn’t go there on our last visit 2 years ago. So I promised that I would take her – no boys, just the 2 of us. My parents took me when I was 11 and so now it’s her turn and she’s 11. Now I was fully prepared for this to be a torturous day with massive crowds and queues everywhere and so I was very pleasantly surprised. Don’t get me wrong it was crowded but not like the London tube – well not like anything in London really.

We walked from here to Gare Saint- Lazare and caught the train – needed to use an escalator there but I’m sure if we’d really needed to there would have been a cunningly hidden lift somewhere at the opposite end of the station that we could have used. At the other end there was a lift but the station was about 2 k m walk from Versailles – there’s probably a closer station but it’s a metro line and not accessible in a wheelchair.

The weather was perfect and in fact quite warm. Entry is free for people with disabilities and their assistants (moi) and no queuing was needed. So we just waltzed up to the entrance and were ushered in without delay. From here the service continued in the same bend over backwards manner. I should say that we’re travelling with a large-ish 3 wheeled buggy (which is really a bit too small for Stella now) so it’s not always immediately obvious that the person inside has a disability – until you realise their size. The buggy is great for all kinds of rough terrain you encounter when travelling – the wheelchair Stella currently has is hopeless on anything other than flat footpath. So Geoffrey chose to bring the buggy, which has advantages and disadvantages. So aside form a few initial buggy related confused looks, the staff at Versailles were really friendly and helpful. We even got to see a few rooms that were off limits to the public but lead to the goods lifts that they got us up and down in.

As far as accessibility goes the place is less than ideal as it requires a member of staff to assist people individually but in a way this was all really rather charming as we got to have nice conversations with the staff and we felt like they really wanted to make us welcome …. So sometimes disability has its perks and as long as the inequalities exist we allow ourselves to enjoy the little perks with grace.

Stella’s favourite rooms in the palace were the hall of mirrors and Marie Antoinette’s bedroom. It was funny in the bedroom as it was incredibly crowded in this particular room and the attendant made an enormous show of moving everyone out of the way so I could push Stella right up to the barrier so she could see. Well she made the most of that and really examined everything in detail.

After the palace we had lunch (including chocolate mousse – yum) and then tackled the gigantic gardens. I was particularly keen to show Stella Marie Antoinette’s farm with all the cottages. The place is miles away from the main palace but we walked it – well I walked it and pushed Stella. Saw the petit Trianon and then the farm, which really captured her imagination just as it did for me when I was her age. It’s like a series of elaborate cubby houses – every young girls dream. Of course it all comes with the stories of how the Aristocracy were out of touch with the poverty of the people and how France is now a republic etc etc as we don’t want to get too caught up with the whole Queen/ princess thing do we?

We finished off with a couple of small purchases including some Laduree macaroons and headed home. Tonight we ate in – fancy French take away so we could enjoy the apartment and I could rest my very sore feet.

Stella went to bed happy – mission accomplished.

From what I can gather the boys spent the day at the gallery of indigenous art which apparently was also fantastic.

Hall of mirrors

Marie Antoinette's bedroom

Marie Antoinette's farm

Geneva

2010-10-05T05:59:00.000-07:00

There’s work to be done but with my emails not sending (I have to cut and paste everything to gmail) and children flitting about I just can’t seem to find any focus so I’m hoping that the bare minimum will get me by until I get to New York. Today is our last day in Romenay so I think we’ll find another little chateau to visit even though the weather is a bit iffy.

Yesterday we made the trek across to Geneva about 2 hours away and I must say that I couldn’t have done it without Geoffrey. Not that a trip to Geneva is a particularly arduous one from here but we had to find a specific apartment in the suburbs of Geneva - without a map or a Sat. Nav… and it was raining very heavily. The place was technically in France and we were planning to avoid going into Switzerland but of course that didn’t happen. So before we knew it we’d crossed the border into Switzerland without passports (they were in the drawer here at home - oops) and without the requisite Swiss autoroute sticker. Flagrant law breakers we are! Thankfully it all went without incident but there’s that awful moment when you think that you might be required to explain yourself to Swiss authorities and that’s not really my favourite thing.

The mission was for me to go and interview Tom Shakespeare for my film. So we had directions to the area where Tom lives but no directions to his actual home. We had the address but he wasn’t answering his phone, so after a couple of wrong turns and a scenic tour of Geneva with me driving and Geoffrey navigating we somewhat miraculously found the area and then quickly found ourselves back in the countryside. Geoffrey had noticed a local area map back on the side of the road so we went back to that and found the address – ingenious, that’s what those maps are for.

Once at the apartment building I had trouble locating that actual apartment but eventually knocked on the correct door about 45 minutes late – I hate that but it just happens when you’re in unfamiliar territory and I’ve almost stopped stressing about it.

Tom is a breeze to interview as he’s an experienced speaker and seems comfortable in the spotlight but he does not do small talk. I like to think I’m quite good at small talk but setting up involved some polite responses to my chat and quite a few long silences. To be fair he was very patient with my setting up (which is pretty efficient now) and in interview he was eloquent and direct and gave good answers without wasting time or tape. I feel less concerned about our last meeting now (see my last blog entry) as I think he just has a very direct, no frills way of relating to people. He did make me a very delicious cup of tea too, and I was rather pleased with the way the lighting turned out.

Tom is currently working at the World Health Organisation helping to write their statement on disability and also working to mainstreaming disability into all aspects of WHO – such as disaster response which I thought sounded like a really interesting – if somewhat daunting job.

With Tom’s interview in the can it was time the thank Geoffrey and the kids for coming with me as there wasn’t really anything in it for them apart from some spectacular scenery around Geneva. I just know that if I’d tried to do the trip on my own I would have got hopelessly lost, overwhelmed by the rain and just really hated it so it was really really nice to have them along for the ride.

We managed quite easily to do the trip home without going back into Switzerland as the road outside Tom’s place lead in the right direction. One the way home we stopped at La Bresse – a tacky French autoroute restaurant that had swans and ducks on a pond out the front. The food was fast and the kids loved it – I won’t say too much about my dish but I was less hungry afterwards and didn’t feel sick (which is more than I can say about the night before).

Enough for now – kids rioting in the disco van. Time to get out and about.

peak hour in Geneva

Kids take weird pictures and Curtis took this one at Le Lion D'Or - local restaurant

A jolly Weekend in France doing ... French things ... mostly.

2010-10-03T12:33:00.000-07:00

Well our attempts to watch the replay grand final on the internet were a waste of time but we did wake up and tune in to the radio for a while – well me for a moment and Geoffrey for a quarter or 2. We just couldn’t get the internet site to accept our payment – one of those frustrating hours of “computer says No.” It feels like we’ve completely missed a very weird week in Melbourne in our isolation in this small French village. Yesterday there was yet another market to go to – one of my favourites for atmosphere – Tournous (although the produce at Pont de Vaux is better. One interesting discovery – I should have taken a picture but you’ll just have to do with the description – is a 24/7 milk vending machine in the car park in Tournous. The French don’t do a lot of 24/7 especially in the country so this was a welcome sight. Basically it’s a giant fridge where you can either refill your milk bottle for 1 euro or buy and fill for an additional 20centimes. You just open a little door – put your bottle under the tap, insert money, press start and voila fresh chilled milk. In Australia there’s probably be some food handling regulation to prevent such convenience – or vandalism but here it’s a nice touch. Just like the Boulanger using her bare hands to pick up the croissants – where’s the harm in that?

So yesterday the am was all about getting the pintard (similar to a chicken but better) for dinner, some soft berry nougat for dessert and a nice bottle of red to go with the bird. Coincidentally I purchased the same wine we had been given on our last visit by a total stranger we met who owned an unusual shed that Geoffrey was photographing (the man was so grateful for the sacrifices Australians had made in the first world war that he gave us a bottle of wine). We had attempted to take that bottle home to Australia but it smashed in transit – we were so disappointed but as fate would have it we still got to drink it only 2 years later – last night and it was really really good.

In the afternoon yesterday Poiully Fuisse was the destination and the wine. In Fuisse they only do chardonnay – but don’t be put off by what we call chardonnay – this is the good stuff. We did a tasting of 5 different wines and chose 2 that we really liked – the others were a little oaky for our taste. Bought 3 bottles plus a bottle of Frambroise liqueur as an indulgence. For a moment after the intricate discussions from the winemaker I thought I understood something of the French wine classification system – but probably non – it really is very complicated so its good when you can just taste and decide on that basis if you like something.

Home for our yummy dinner but also by this stage I was experiencing something of the sensation of a fois gras duck or goose or whatever it is that they stuff with food until the animal dies of overeating so we can eat their liver full of fat. Okay I admit that last time I did eat and enjoy a spot of fois gras but this time I’m just not up to it – instead it’s me that’s feeling like one. So today no croissants, no bread, just fruit and salad and I’m feeling a little better.

Today is incredibly windy. Unpleasantly so. We began the day with a trip back to Tournous to visit the antique market, which is held on the first Sunday of the month in the refectory next to the Abbey. Perfect place for a market and if I had a house here I could have filled it with lovely furniture and knick knacks. Unfortunately most of the things there were not at all practical for transporting back to Australia. After a bit of a wander around the windy and deserted streets of Tournous we headed home and then found the flea market next to the river – I’d seen an advertisement in Romenay for this market but didn’t know where it was held, so of course we stopped again and went through the flea market with a fine tooth comb. Let me tell you the French have just as big a collection of absolute junk as we do. There are a few interesting bits and pieces such as old wallpaper printing instruments, upholstery buttons, copper pots (I wish I could transport them but they weigh a ton), brass taps etc but nothing that was really worth the weight and bulk. Children had crepes from a van at the end and then we came home and out of the wind.

We had a visit from M Longerai (the spelling is not correct but you get the idea – we all find it endlessly amusing because the pronunciation is lingerie) who had been like a magic fairy yesterday and cut the lawn. He stopped by today I think just to see who was at the house. The garden looked great until the wind blew everything all over the place.

I’ve done my preparation for tomorrow which is an interview with Tom Shakespeare – English disability activist who is now based in Geneva but lives in France. We have a 2 hour drive and hopefully won’t get lost. Last time I met Tom I’d had an anaesthetic the day before and my brain was mush. I’d dragged myself out of recovery to go and meet him on his one day in Melbourne. Tom’s one of those fiercely intelligent academic types who are super articulate and also quite charismatic. He carries himself with confidence. Needless to say the contrast between Tom and me on that day left me feeling – well a great deal less than fabulous. I’m hoping for a better result tomorrow – and to be fair he’ll be less distracted and I’ll be more prepared and not drugged to the eyeballs after a Michael Jackson cocktail.

Tournous Market

Look what we found in the garden - a tiny snake.

junk market French style - marche du puce

Sunshine

2010-10-01T12:52:00.000-07:00

The sun shone obscenely today and lured us out onto the terrace for breakfast. I’ve totally given up on my usual healthy breakfast of museli – the one I bought here is just too sweet for the am – or any time really so I’ve given myself over to the croissant for breakfast – indulgence par excellence but I can feel my jeans getting tighter already.

In a flash it was nearly 11 am and not a cow milked. The local Romenay market was on and they close at 12 so we had to scramble ourselves out the door and down the road for some emergency rations – baguette, croissants, fruit, wine – and some pink sneakers for Stella for 5 euros. I also had to visit la poste and try and pay for an autoroute fee we had not been able to pay on the day of arrival. No cash and the 5 credit cards we had didn’t work so they gave us a ticket and 8 days to pay. The poste lady very helpfully wrote out a money order and put it in an envelope and posted it for me. I can’t believe you can’t just pay it online with a credit card but apparently non. Such are the machinations of French bureaucracy – best not to go there or we might fall a teensy bit out of love with la France.

So after the relative dashing about in the village it was time to return home and continue relaxing. Some reading was achieved – I’m reading Peter Temple’s The Broken Shore and it’s fantastic. His writing is so keenly observed and makes me laugh out loud. It feels a little too indulgent coming all the way to France to sit in the garden and relax but if that’s what it takes – c’est la vie.

Later in the afternoon Geoffrey and I took the bicycles out for a short ride through the corn fields while the kids watched a spot of Kaf Kim. The day was just too perfect not to seize the moment and within minutes we were riding in a lovely forest, hoping maybe to see a deer but they’re very elusive.

Dinner then off to bed early so we can get up before the birds in the morning and watch the grand final. Very considerate of them to replay it for us as last weekend we couldn’t even get it on the internet but here the internet is better so Geoffrey plans to settle in early in the am for all the hype and drama of the re-run.

The forecast for the next few days is 21 degrees and sunny – Tournous tomorrow plus Pouilly Fuse for some wine.

Geoffrey & Curtis hanging over the back fence

Cycling in the forest

The view from my reading chair

Chateauneuf & Pont de Vaux

2010-09-30T14:15:00.000-07:00

Un Chien at Pont de Vaux market

Just a simple street market but lovely

Yesterday was another fairly lazy day with just a trip to the Pont de Vaux market in the morning. 3 big punnets of raspberries, 2 of strawberries – the lovely delicate ones they grow here are quite different from those at home – more flavour, and a tray of lovely dark red figs. Plus a cooked burgundy chook and some fromage from Martine the neighbour who has a cheese stall at all the local markets. Sausicon for Geoffrey and Curtis plus green beans to go with the chook. Dinner was just a lovely simple combination of produce plus a bottle of Moulin A Vent from just south of here in the Beaujolais region.

I also got a bit of work done yesterday – contacting people for the American section of the fellowship. I’m pleased to see that some of them have actually replied and set appointment times which feels like progress at last. I think I’ll have to have another go at it tomorrow though.

Today we decided that we’d better do some sightseeing but not too early in the day mind you. Geoffrey was charged with choosing a suitable Chateau to visit and as we saw all the really convenient chateaux last time we were here we now have to travel a bit further afield if we want to see a new one. After a very leisurely morning riding the bike down to Shopi for croissants, jam and milk – and a baguette of course, we finally got away for our day trip just before 2pm – hopeless I know. The chosen chateau was north from here about an hour and a half drive if you don’t take any wrong turns but of course we did – both coming and going.

I do love the French autoroutes for many reasons but the entries and exits are laid out in a way that is totally at odds with what we are used to in Australia. If like us you are somewhere between Lyon and Paris and you want to head north roughly in the direction of Paris you need to look out for the sign that says Lyon/Paris – which is incredibly confusing – it’s all about the pay stations – you don’t separate into your particular direction until you’ve been through the pay station (hark, I hear a donkey in the distance as I’m writing – sorry I thought you’d like to know that). I know this is way too much detail and you’d rather hear about the chateau, but when we did finally get onto the autoroute a truck moved into the next lane to make it easier for us to merge – so elegant, so polite, can you believe it? The trucks travel in the right lane about 30km per hour slower than the cars and it’s just so damn organised and civilised – no road rage here – absolutely no need for road rage. You’re going as fast as you could possibly wish to go and the trucks all get out of your way. So enough of that… now for the chateau

So our initial destination was a chateau and village called Cormarrin between Beaune and Dijon (both lovely cities but bypassed today). This chateau I must confess was initially a little underwhelming. Entry was via a turnstile and only into the garden, which was extensive but not particularly well cultivated. The chateau itself was out of bounds and inhabited by someone who had their golf parked in the forecourt. As chateaux go it was a bit of a renovators delight – or a marriage wrecker depending on which way you choose to look at it. Some work had recently been done on the roof (best place to start in my opinion) and there goes a lazy 50 grand or so I’d say. The chateau was surrounded by a moat of green sludgy water inhabited by hungry carp who gawped at anyone who came near the edge. The real charm of the place was its grounds, which though uncultivated were spread out and a bit of a wilderness by French standards. There was no one else there visiting (the imminent rain may have put off other potential visitors) and the longer we stayed there the more we felt seduced by the place – so off the beaten track, no hordes of American tourists or anything like that. It had a kind of dilapidated sleepy charm that grew on us over the hour or so we wandered about. I also felt keenly how the cost of maintenance of these gigantic old places could really cripple the family responsible, especially if they find themselves in reduced circumstances and many such families do.

After the chateau we wandered about the village, which had the same sleepy charm as the chateau, a couple of shops and a handful of maisons particulaires (slightly fancy houses) that would be lovely for spending the summer in.

As the rain set in we jumped into the car and headed down the road to another nearby village and associated chateau called Chateauneuf. I think this is really where we should have gone first as it really was a picture postcard village and chateau. The rain delayed us getting out of the car and unfortunately by the time we did the chateau itself had closed for the day. Geoffrey had a glimpse inside before it closed and was really disappointed that we didn’t get to see it properly. Fortunately the village itself was super cute medieval and just charmed us completely. We loved it so much we decided to stay for dinner and found a lovely little restaurant with an open fire and a nice but unremarkable menu, which featured a lot of crepes with unusual fillings. A nice enough meal but not fantastic – but the surroundings more than made up for it. Unfortunately after a relaxing meal we had to drive the nearly 2 hour drive home in the dark. Missed the autoroute entry, which added 15 minutes on to the trip. Lots of fog on the roads around Romenay – happy to be home safely by about 9.30 with time to write this over the cup of coffee tucked up in bed.

Just one street away from the market is this little scene - so typical of the local area

Yep - figs and strawberries - what's left of them - they taste amazing

Chateauneuf - the cutest medieval village

Doesn't quite capture the magic but this little restaurant was charming with an open fire

Serenity

2010-09-29T00:43:00.000-07:00

Stella calls this meal dunch - late lunch /early dinner - best eaten in pyjamas

Here's a little something I wrote last night and then couldn't get the internet connection to work. Just taking things easy for a few days......

After the brutally early start yesterday, today was a pretty lazy day. Perfect really. Went to the boulangerie this morning and stocked up on croissants, pain au chocolat & baguettes. Called in at Shopi for some further sustenance and then home for the rest of the day really. Got the internet partially sorted out. Just can’t send emails for some reason but set up a hasty web address for getting my message out. Incoming mail is fine so all those important messages will be received and attended to! I think I’m a little too hooked on the computer but it does help me feel connected to the world and that’s something that could be in jeopardy out here because there’s not too many folks around these parts. Didn’t really practise my French today but tomorrow is market day so that should be fun.

By 5pm I felt capable of going for a short run – didn’t see a single car until I was nearly home – then just one. Several French cows gave me the once over and looked as if they didn’t see too many people – If you stare at them for a while they get quite nervous.

Then home for a glass of champagne and dinner and that’s it really – sorry today is one for the hard core fans. I do have some work to do this week – following up with contacts in America etc but today although it was on my mind I just couldn’t make myself do anything like that. To be fair too by the time I’d sorted out the internet I had used up quite a bit of the day.

Geoffrey gave Curtis a haircut in the garden – see picture and the kids watched a few more old episodes of Kath & Kim – which for some reason goes down a treat in a French farm house.

I’ll put in a couple more pics from England here too and I think that’s quite enough from me today seeing as I obviously haven’t done anything at all.

Geoffrey le coiffeur

A walk in the village - last day in England

In the garden in France

2010-09-28T03:10:00.000-07:00

I’m writing this in the hope that tomorrow I can get the internet to work at the house in Romenay. We arrived and as I feared despite hours of fruitless futsing I could not get my computer to connect to the wi fi. I managed to call the phone company and find out that tomorrow after 9am I can speak to someone in English who can talk me through the connection. I don’t really think my French is up to Technical support for the internet – but you never know, still I don’t want to take my chances if I can do it in English.

Despite the technical hitches which after all are not really the reason one comes to this part of France – it’s wonderful to be here. We’ve really just transplanted ourselves from one idyllic English Village to an idyllic French one. Hard to separate them for perfection really – this one has croissants but the English one had our lovely, lovely friends who I hadn’t seen for 22 years – and we all just clicked back together like it was barely a week since we’d seen each other – except we all had these quite grown up kids so that was a reminder that we’d been around the block a few times.

We had to get up at 4.30 this morning to catch our flight to Lyon so once again I’m feeling totally wiped out. The plan for the next few days is to chill out and try and replenish a bit of energy. It’s quite cool here and really feels like autumn. It was lovely and sunny when we landed in Lyon but the weather deteriorated as the day went on. I’m hoping we may get some nice sunny days while we’re here because by the time we left England it was frankly rather wintry and cold.

So the plan is – boulangerie, shopi, Pont de Veaux market on Wednesday, red wine, white wine, champagne, perhaps a trip to the shopping capital of the universe Macon, and there’s a marche de puce (flea market) in Tournous on Sunday. If we have the energy we might visit a Chateau and a wine village for a bit of fun too. Jealous? You should be, it’s bliss here.

….PS: obviously the internet got going – one button to push – thank you Orange France for the advice in English. Mist over the paddocks this morning. Happiness. Sorry no pics today - too tired - will post some later.

South of England

2010-09-25T15:03:00.000-07:00

Phew it’s been a busy few days. The Channel 4 meeting went well - once I got there. (2 taxis and 20 minutes late – totally embarrassing Had to abandon one taxi in the middle of Trafalgar square after 20 minutes) and there’s a bit of follow up to do – still a long way from anything concrete but I have some good people to talk to and see what comes of it. Can’t really say more than that but it was nice to be taken out for lunch and have a chance to talk through my ideas for this film to someone who seemed by the end of the meeting to be willing to support it.

London was full on, exciting and exhausting. We took in a few classic sights such as the British Museum - well just the mummies and a couple of other things, Buckingham palace - the interior was spectacular, a few trips on the top of buses, and the summer pavilion near the Serpentine gallery. Now we’re staying in the quietest little village in the south of England near Brighton called Rodmell. Staying with friends I haven’t seen for 22 years and it’s a hoot. Had a fab day in Brighton today checking out all the tack of Brighton pier and the English seaside. Lovely day and the kids enjoyed themselves. We’re into holiday mode now for the next couple of weeks – only one interview to film while I’m in France with Tom Shakespeare but that’s still a week away so for the next few posts it will be just travelogue I’m afraid – and hopefully some fun.

Today I had the most horrendous headache and as I’ve had a bit of a tummy bug and a bit of a cold I thought it was all part of the malaise …. Until I realised that actually I was suffering from coffee withdrawals. Our friends are tea drinkers and they drink decaffinated tea at that so after a day or so at their house my body went into serious caffeine withdrawal and that means a serious headache. A nice strong caffe latte worked a treat where 2 panadols and 4 hours later 2 neurofens had no effect.

As usual it’s pretty late and we’re all stuffed so I can’t really go into details so I’ll let the pictures do the talking today and toddle off to bed.

Cheerio….. and here’s a bit from Stella ….

Hi everyone,

Stella here, We had a safe trip over, and are having fun. In London we went to the two biggest toy shops in the world [Harrods & Hamleys.] Who’s got school holidays over there? I know Toorak Primary does. On Monday we leave to go to France & we’re staying in my second cousin’s house, she’s VERY JEALOUS! We’re watching the ‘Comedy Roadshow’ while I write this post on mum’s computer. Mum’s laughing her head off, in fact she’s laughing so much, she’s crying!

How are you all? I hope your all well.

We went to Buckingham Palace the other day. It was very beautiful, and grand. The queen must be very happy to live there.

From Stella

A quilt for Geri - runner up in the liberty quilt competition

Angie the Tortoise - Simon's had him since he was 6 & he's my age now - an heirloom really - they live to 120

Hanging about in the backyard

Brighton classic

Wow what a living room - Love it

This video is a short and silly unedited piece of colour and movement that perfectly captures the tacky joy that is Brighton pier.

Top Shop and top of the world

2010-09-21T14:42:00.000-07:00

That'll be blue sky in the background - London Eye

The family all arrived safe and well and rather more promptly that I anticipated yesterday. Flight 15 minutes early and then the rock star treatment one often receives but can’t rely on for getting through queues quickly when you have a disability meant that they were out of Heathrow nearly an hour before I actually got there to meet them which was not the plan.

Curtis arrived in an oversized pair of Qantas pyjamas due to a bout of in flight vomiting – glad I missed that one. Caught the tube to Kings Cross but unfortunately the lift at Heathrow was out of order so we didn’t really have a fully accessible experience of the London underground (friendly staff happy to help with a extra hand on the escalator). That’s it for the tube for Stella as the rest of it is out of bounds for anyone with any sort of mobility impairment. Today we’ve found that actually when there’s 4 of us travelling about town that it’s actually quite economical to use taxis. They’re quick and efficient and most of all accessible and quite cheap for shortish distances, but I found out tonight that the buses are free for wheelchair users - I guess they're trying to compensate for fatal shortcomings of the train service.

Up late last night writing a pitch for channel 4 as I have a meeting there tomorrow to pitch this film I'm making. Amazingly the person we approached at Channel 4 actually remembered Untold Desires and was very impressed by it so that was a pleasant surprise. Now I just have to make her love this new idea. Fingers crossed for tomorrow.

Tonight I tackled the tube again for another interview, this time with Sian Vasey. This time I got a great room to film in and the lighting set up worked a treat. The interview was a little shorter than some of the others but some good stuff none the less.

Earlier today it was sightseeing time. I took Geoffrey and the children on the London Eye – Stella was disappointed that it didn’t go faster. The views were amazing and it was a really fabulous way to see London. Then we went on a river cruise to Greenwich – perfect for a lesson about Greenwich mean time and latitude and longitude (some if which I’m a bit woolly on so maybe I’m not the best teacher). I thought that the cruise and London eye would be the perfect low key activities for anyone who might still be carrying a bit of jet lag – not too much walking involved or schlepping about on public transport. Perfect weather and a great day.

Doesn't it go any faster Mummy?

Absolutely lovely to have the family with me again although I did hear myself getting just a little bit terse when I got home from filming tonight and there were no teacups or drinking glasses in the room. The hotel I chose as a special treat for the family is uber cool (and expensive) but they don’t routinely provide tea and coffee making facilities in the room – I guess fashion models & rock stars order room service when they want a cup of tea. When I asked for a kettle and some cups for my room yesterday they were happy to oblige but then the cleaner must have removed the cups during the morning clean up which was really annoying. The room is enormous and rather glamorous but of course I didn’t sleep well which is always the way. Yesterday they had an event here for London fashion week here and we had to battle our way through hordes of skinny blondes wearing too much makeup to get to our room. The staff were a little vague about which brand it was – I think it was Top Shop – hardly the apex of glamour but that didn’t stop them.

I could get used to this - at the hotel

Oh well enough fluff now – time for bed.

One Life - Live It

2010-09-20T13:51:00.000-07:00

Have just spent a wonderful weekend with my Dad’s cousin and his wife who live in Watford. Sunday lunch also involved a visit from another cousin and her husband and then finally the younger son arrived home Sunday night from his weekend out in town. They live in an enormous house that was originally part of the Cassiobury Estate belonging to some Earl or other – there was a large manor somewhere across the back fence – long since gone to make way for houses in the 1920’s but we noticed that the neighbour across the back has just unearthed a large cellar from the original manor that has put an immediate stop to any building works while the archaeologists come in to investigate. – We thought we had planning problems!!

The area is on the very fringe of London – last stop on the Metropolitan line but there’s a beautiful parkland and woodland just across the road where I went exploring this morning in the name of fitness. I came across a canal with house boats on it and a lock. On one of the houseboats was written “One Life – Live it” which made me smile. The park this morning was full of happy dogs swimming in streams and gambolling about. The Labrador seems to be the dog of choice but I’ve also seen more corgis in 2 weeks here than I would have seen in a decade in Australia. The corgi enjoys a certain popularity as well as a fair smattering of whippets, dachunds, and of course the ever popular random black dog. Not so many staffies here but a few boxers and bulldogs to be seen too. I love watching dogs in the park as they seem to get off on just the sheer joy of existence, and they all have such personality.

Yesterday we went for a drive to Windsor and looked at the outside of Windsor Castle – the inside seemed like too much of a commitment especially as the weather was actually quite nice. Windsor was incredibly crowded and then we wandered to Eton – the adjoining town which was rather charming and we even saw Eton boys changing out of their rugby gear (not as thrilling as it might sound) and one walking the street in school uniform which is still a bowtie and tails – extraordinary – and slightly more thrilling.

Back home to liberally poured gin and tonics followed by French wine courtesy of my mother (a guest here last year). A delicious dinner and a late night. I feel fully rested after doing very little today and ready to tackle another week as a traveller & occasional filmmaker in London – this time with children. Geoffrey and the children arrive Monday lunch time and my next challenge is to get them to the hotel in an accessible and affordable manner. The Heathrow express train for 4 people costs nearly as much as a taxi so I’m thinking a trip on the tube might work to Kings Cross (a station with lifts) followed by a shortish taxi ride. – stay tuned for the success or otherwise of that plan.

Chez Watford

Over lunch today we did the obligatory delving about in family history and I found out that apparently my great grandfather “was the organist at St Pauls” – no one seemed to know if it was the St Pauls or not – until he had a nervous breakdown and was incarcerated in a mental asylum I think for the remainder of his life. The story goes that my great grandmother said he had died but continued to visit him in the asylum until he did actually die many years later. I’m guessing that it was his son’s death on the battlefields in France during WW1 that pushed him to the edge and lead to his “breakdown” which was at that time a shameful secret. My great grandmother was a tough woman who lived well into her nineties in her house in Holloway and was known to always descent the stairs backwards because of her severe arthritis. She outlived another son – my grandfather who died of a cerebral haemorrhage while selling a packet of cigarettes to a woman in the tobacconist in Mildura where he worked. He handed her the cigarettes but collapsed and died before she could hand him the money. He was 56.

2 days for the price of one

2010-09-17T15:12:00.000-07:00

Visiting Furrah's studio

Me not feeling the colour vibe

Yesterday I made another trip out to Enfield to visit an artist I met a few months ago in Melbourne called Furrah Syed. Furrah was in Melbourne exhibiting her art and she also conducted a workshop in art appreciation for people with vision impairments. Her workshops include an activity where people are encouraged to experience the different temperatures that colours radiate. Several years ago I did a great deal of research about colour for a documentary that I never got to make (one of many) and so the idea of Furrah’s workshop promised an

opportunity to witness something that I’d read about but never seen first hand. At very short notice I contacted the organisers and Furrah agreed to allow me to come along and film the workshop. We became friends and so now that it was my turn to visit London she took me out for the day. First we visited her studio so I could see her wonderful art works – they are all totally abstract with a wonderful use of colour and texture. After me totally failing the colour test – all I felt was a sore shoulder as I wasn’t really comfortable enough to pick up any subtle colour vibrations – we went to Forty Hall – an old manor from Henry VIII time. There we had lunch served in rather eclectic style, followed by a stroll in the gardens.

Later in the afternoon I went off in the other direction to visit my distribution company Mercury Media (they distribute my films in the UK – I don’t own the company!!!). Tim immediately wanted to pitch my new film to Channel 4 and so I had to actually think about the project in commercial terms - something I had so far studiously avoided. I also got into a super long and involved conversation with the “creative director” of the company who is building a mammoth distribution website. He’s one of those people who is totally passionate about what they are doing and I’m sure he talked for nearly half an hour without drawing breath. He certainly sounded like he knew everything there was to know about technical formats and post-production. I just came away just knowing that there’s a lot I don’t know ….but at least I know what questions to ask – mostly. It was a head spinning conversation.

The meeting with Tim also meant that I had to go home and re write my pitch, which meant I had quite a bit of homework to do last night.

I ended up working until nearly midnight logging tapes for inspiration and then writing the pitch for Tim. This morning I slept in for the first time in weeks. Bliss.

Today I really needed a day to follow up on a few phone calls and of course more tape logging. The logging is important to do along the way as you can see what you’ve actually got on tape in terms of picture and sound but also really take notice of what people are saying and if it makes sense and can be edited. It also gives me ideas about what to talk to the next person about. In short it’s a crucial reference and check on what I’m doing. Also the last thing you want is to get home with 25 hours of tape that hasn’t been logged. It’s way too daunting. So I have to allocate a certain amount of time to staying on top of the logging, and today was the day and I got it all done – yay.

It’s great to revisit material from a few days ago and think it over and it’s also great to see different interviews dovetailing in with each other where one person picks up on something another person has said … because I’m asking the right questions of course. Get ready for a lot of socialist political theory … but then in America I think it will be very different. I can already see little disputes arising between interviewees – point and counterpoint – it’s all there.

In the middle of the day I took a break as it was a sunny day so I went for a run. I just took off down the road and after 15 minutes or so got quite delightfully lost. Found myself in a pretty little area called Launceston Gardens and eventually came out at Kensington High Street – except that I didn’t know that for a while. Another jog through Holland Park and then wandered back to Earls Court and grabbed yet another Marks & Spencer’s meal for one. Thank goodness the quality and variety of these meals is quite good but I think I’ve had just about enough of them. Judging by the queues of people in M& S at mealtimes, I think that half of London must live on them.

Tapes were all done by about 5.30 so that my master logistical plan could take place. I have way more luggage with me than is possible for a single woman to move about on public transport on her own. I drove it all here in a car but now I don’t have a car and I don’t want to spend a month in traffic in a London Taxi. Tomorrow I take the train to Watford for the weekend with family so I needed to have less luggage – Watford is a long way out. So this afternoon I took my camera and tripod and lighting kit to the hotel I’m staying in next week. They were very accommodating and allowed me to leave it in the bell room for the weekend. So fingers crossed it’s still there on Monday.

Anything involving the camera kit on the tube is a nightmare as there are stairs everywhere but I must say that some gentleman always offers to help me get it up the stairs – and I graciously accept with plenty of smiles and thank yous.

I saw my first wheelchair user since I’ve been in London – a man begging on the millennium bridge. There are just no wheelchair users on the streets in London. With the exception of a handful of random stations, the tube is totally inaccessible and so there are also very few people with prams. Lots of travellers struggling with luggage like me but all of the wheelchair users must be in Morecombe where my journey began – that place was full of wheelchairs. I’m actually starting to worry a little about how we’re going to get around London with Stella next week – stay tuned on that one.

So anyway, after the schlep across town to deposit the gear I felt all free and footloose for once so I headed off the to the Tate Modern for a glass of champagne and a look at the lovely city skyline from the best view in town. After the champagne took effect I wandered past a few Picassos, Bacons and Dalis and then found a looped screening of Maya Deren’s experimental film from the 1943, Meshes of the Afternoon. I haven’t seen this film since Visual Arts at Monash Uni but I’ve always remembered its images and mood and it’s general weirdness. This time because it was on a loop I watched the second half first followed by the beginning. Not a bad way to watch it really because then you know what to take notice of at the start. That was a real delight and after that I wandered off into the night along the Thames, over Blackfriars Bridge and home via Temple Station.

Millennium Bridge looking back at St Paul's Cathedral

Then looking the other way towards the glass of champagne on the top floor.

Squirrels - can't do better than that today.

2010-09-15T14:06:00.000-07:00

Today was a day to make plans and see a little bit of London, as well as catching up on tape logging – which I still have to do tonight. I'm afraid today's post is a bit lame - apologies for the self indulgence. The end may redeem an otherwise banal travelogue - sorry again.... I spent the morning on the phone and on email and achieved a little but not nearly as much as one might hope. After that I went for a run to Holland Park, which is quite near the hotel. To my delight I discovered that Holland Park is full of squirrels. I’m sure they’re probably the London equivalent of possums to the locals but heck they’re cute. No wonder the squirrel has starred in so many movies and children’s storybooks. They way they look and scurry about is hilarious. I took some photos (you should all be aware that the only still camera I have with me is my iphone so the technology is basic – no zoom just take a few steps closer which doesn’t really work with squirrels as they tend to scurry). So after being entertained by the squirrels for a while I ran back to the hotel via the shops and post office.

Posting things seems to be a mammothly complicated business in other countries. The woman behind the six inch security glass took ages to locate the correct stamps for my simple local parcel – she seemed to be counting her superannuation increase between the beginning and end of my transaction – do they even have superannuation here? I’m sure the postal workers have some sort of generous pension that she was clinging on for. I remember in France I had to order in the correct stamps to send postcards to Australia and wait 2 days just for the stamps to come in – that’s before they were even posted. Sorry I digress.

So after a bit more time back at the Hotel I finally headed out mid afternoon for a bit of a wander. I began in Covent Garden, which was one of my favourite places when I was here 20 years ago. Needless to say it’s changed a lot but I noticed that my favourite café 20 years ago was still there – sadly I wasn’t tempted. I then needed to visit the hotel we’re staying at next week to see if they could mind my camera gear over the weekend so I don’t have to take it on the train to Watford WITH my suitcase. “Oh it’s fashion week and we’re very busy but yes, I’m sure we can take care of it for you just bring it by on Friday.” Nothing seemed to be too much trouble – what a relief. It’s the kind of hotel where being fashion week is actually relevant. This could be fun – stay tuned.

After that some aimless strolling lead me through a couple of small art galleries and then to the Getty Images Gallery which has an exhibition of fabulous black and white photos of stars in London – Audrey Hepburn, Warren Beatty, Judy Garland, Alfred Hitchcock, Groucho Marx (“I’m leaving London because the weather’s too good. I only like London when it’s raining.”).

Speaking of good quotes Melanie told me one last night to love “if you don’t go over the top you’ll never see what’s on the other side” – now there’s a motto to live by – and maybe to make a film by. Things are starting to come together in my mind about how to bring this film together thanks to some tips and lively discussion last night – thanks Mel.

A funny day with a touristy centre but I've spent tonight surfing You Tube and seen some great stuff which goes to show you that you don't need to leave home to see the world but maybe you need to leave home to have the time to spend hours on You Tube seeing the world.

If you can cope with a bit of coarse language check this out - it's GOLD. From Sweden

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ivTKRSURsQ&feature=related

25 stops & 3 trains plus wheels

2010-09-14T14:59:00.001-07:00

I’m settled in London now. Hotel is nice and cheery with a window and a view onto a mews but the room is of course so miniscule that Yoga poses must be adapted to fit. Yesterday was all about overcoming my horror at spending more than 5 hours on the motorway at speed, in heavy traffic (think west gate bridge – perhaps not peak hour but at 110k’s per hour) in a thick cloud of rain. Visibility about 4 feet. Frankly it was scary. I threw a smallish tantrum some time before Manchester but nobody took any notice, so maybe it didn’t really happen.

Today was a challenge of a different order. I had to get myself and my camera, sound gear, tripod and lighting kit from Earls Court to Enfield – about 25 stops and 3 trains away. I have a habit of not really making life easy for myself and so it was with some anxiety about stairs that I set off. Now I have a small inkling of how wheelchair users feel every day.

My mission today was an interview with Judy Hunt, the widow of Paul Hunt who with Vic Finkelstein started the Union of Physically Impaired Against Segregation (UPIAS) back in the 1960’s. Judy was a gracious and generous interviewee. We had exchanged several emails over the past few weeks and she was well prepared and had given the interview quite a bit of thought. So I spent a fascinating couple of hours as she discussed the origins of the social model of disability, why they chose the phrase “disabled people” over “people with disabilities”, the idea of a disabled people’s union in the context of the welfare state and the impact that the dismantling of the welfare state has had on disabled people over the past 20 years or so. Of course there was much, much more. Some lovely personal anecdotes mixed in with challenging political theories.

I’m loving hearing about all these ideas that are still radical today (maybe more so – especially in Australia in some circles – not all) and thinking about how they can tell the story that I’ve set out to tell which seems to get more complicated by the day.

There’s a sign in the Tube – an advert for and exhibition at the British Museum – The History of the World in 100 Objects – maybe that’s an approach to take with a film that just keeps getting bigger in scope.

Tonight I’ve been out on the town with my mate Melanie Coombs who’s here working at Kudos who made Spooks (one of my favourite ways to spend a Friday night). So nice to have some social time, sharing our love of what we do. Then home to a big Skype with another mate so I feel like I’ve reconnected with the world – and now I need some sleep.

Seize The Day

2010-09-12T08:27:00.000-07:00

The views from this pub are sensational

Baaa

I'm nearly at the top of the mountain and this is the view

Last night I had the best sleep since I got here – just the sound of a stream in the distance and a few sheep bleating – lovely. Another British breakfast to start the day – they have to stop if I’m not going to expand beyond my jeans. Then the plan for the day was to tackle the 3 mile – 2 hour walk over Wandsfell (that’s a very big hill to you) to Ambleside. Headed off feeling full of beans and really it was a spectacular walk. Passed plenty of English walkers with hiking sticks and often accompanied by very happy looking dogs (something you never see bushwalking in Australia). The walk itself took in some really spectacular views of the mountains and lakes – not entirely unlike Cradle Mountain I suppose – and involved some serious mountain climbing not only up the mountain but also a really tediously steep climb down that made my knees hurt (whinge, whinge). As soon as I got near the top of the mountain my phone bleeped that I had 3 missed calls from Jasper. 3 missed calls deserves a call back but I couldn’t get through straight away.

After 2 strenuous hours I finally made it in to Ambleside. My feet were already quite sore and I just felt really tired but the bad news was that I still had to do the walk back. I thought maybe a sit down and a cup of tea might revive me enough for the return trip – the British breakfast means that I still wasn’t hungry, but I couldn’t find anywhere appealing enough to take tea. Instead I bought some cheese, orange juice and chocolate to go with the oatcakes and fruit I had in my bag and decided to stop for a picnic on the walk back.

I began the steep hike back up the mountain and made it to a damp seat where I stopped for some juice. It began to rain. The raindrops seemed to wash away any resolve I had to tackle the walk and I knew that I just couldn’t face it. Not only were my feet and legs sore but I just had no energy. After a moment of feeling like a total wimp I packed up my picnic and set off back down the hill to the information centre to call a taxi.

While I was waiting for the taxi to arrive I finally made contact with a very flat sounding Jasper who told me that a friend of his, who has suffered a spinal cord injury in a motor bike accident a year ago had just died. The death was apparently caused by an overdose (whether accidental or deliberate we cannot know). I didn’t know this boy personally but Jasper had talked about him to me and I just felt and feel incredibly sad. I also feel that if we as a society didn’t view disability as a fate worse than death then maybe coming to terms with spinal cord injury might be a little less daunting. People need positive role models, employment, social inclusion and a view of the future. Then maybe just maybe some of these lives could be saved emotionally as well as physically.

In the meantime my thoughts are with his family and friends for whom the loss must be compounded by what they have been through already over the past year.

I was glad I’d finally got through to Jasper – I knew something was wrong but I just couldn’t imagine what. Even at 27 he still always calls him Mum in a crisis and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

My taxi arrived and delivered me in comfort and ease across the hills back to the Mortal Man (how fitting that this is the name of the pub I’m staying in). I feel flat and not inclined to do much for the rest of the day but the scenery is still beautiful from every angle at this place and it reminds me that you’re a long time dead.

Carpe diem.

To London tomorrow.

September 11

2010-09-11T10:28:00.000-07:00

On a date that’s synonymous with so much that is wrong with the world, I can tell you there’s still very much that is right with this beautiful world. In particular the English Lakes district is absolutely stunning. On a par with Lake Como in Italy but rather different – less glitzy, less Italian obviously.

real coffee in a sachet that you tear open and pour over a filter - never seen 'em before - quite spiffy.

I went for a walk this afternoon on the fells (local for hills I guess) and got quite lost. I could see the Mortal Man pub where I’m staying in the dim distance across the fells but couldn’t figure out how to get there. Kept getting stymied by flooded tracks – water, water everywhere rushing lake-wards. This classic English pub that I’m staying in is just over the hills from Ambleside on the shores of lake Windemere and I’m planning to walk there tomorrow. I’m thinking it’s probably a full day walking there and back so hopefully I’ll get some sleep tonight – unlike last night.

I spent the past 2 nights in Leeds which didn’t look too bad, what little I saw of it, however my hotel – which was very smartly decorated and kitted out – had a very claustrophobic vibe to it and I just couldn’t relax there. The corridors were all black and the carpet in the quite small room was also black. As you’ll all know I’m a girl who’s fond of black, but this was just too much. I don’t think it helped either that the room’s 3 very small windows were set well above eye level and looked directly out onto another building. One thing though – the breakfasts were sensational. Just everything was scrumptious and so delicious and of course I ate way too much of everything.

Now just briefly the reason for my going to Leeds was to interview the guru of the social model of disability, Professor Colin Barnes. He didn’t invent the theory it but he did put it on the map. Colin has charisma and was sensational to interview. I just encouraged him to talk (which wasn’t hard) and off he went. After a wonderful afternoon of chat we got away just after 5pm. I can see him heading off down the stairs (“I don’t use lifts”) as I headed to the lift and he turned to me and said “make sure you give us a great film.” Can you believe it I lay awake nearly all of last night in my black hotel room worrying about whether I can make him a great film.

Okay - it's moss but there's lots of it here and it's very green and pretty - and heart shaped

Beatrix Potter's veggie garden

Today I went to Beatrix Potter’s cute little farm called Hill Top – it was adorable and I don’t think it will keep me awake tonight.

Lancaster to Leeds

2010-09-09T12:20:00.000-07:00

Church Ruins at Heysham

Heysham village - iphone doesn't do it justice

It feels like its been a huge day and an age since I left the glorious Midland Hotel. I decided to treat myself to a morning of sightseeing before the journey to Leeds and I was very grateful for a bit of local knowledge that made the day a treat.

I need to back track a little because while I was at Lancaster University I had a room for recording my interviews in, but when I was not in the room I needed to find the security guard to come and lock the room and then unlock it again when I wanted to go back in. Rob the security guard I suspect was a little bored in his job, and was only too keen to hang about and chat with me. He was a Scot and not always easy to understand but very quickly he’d shared his life story with me. When he was quite young his girlfriend fell pregnant so he offered to marry her, she accepted and they went on to have 4 children together. He described how he was an old fashioned type of guy and always handed over his pay packet unopened to his wife and she took care of all the bills – or so he thought. One day after things had been a bit weird for a while she came to him and told him that the bank was going to repossess their house. She hadn’t been paying the mortgage for quite a while but had used his money to buy drugs instead. He also found out around this time that their eldest son – the one he’d married her to legitimise was not actually his. He described feeling devastated – not because he loved the lad any less but sad because he wasn’t his – and of course quite angry with his wife who’d so thoroughly done him over. Somehow they managed to stay together until the children were in their late teens but finally he left her and started to save up for another house. When he went to the bank to buy a house on his own he was worried that they may not lend to him because his earlier house had been repossessed so he told the bank that he was a first home buyer and they never checked and never questioned it. So now he has his own house but I didn’t find out if he had another partner – I certainly got the impression he was on his own – but that may have been a tactical omission. I’m not sure why I’m telling you all this but the story seemed so tragic and at the same time like something out of a movie – and beyond it all he seemed so calm and maybe a bit bewildered by it but not really resentful.

Anyhow with the big life story out of the way he also gave me some sightseeing tips that included a visit to a tiny historic village called Heysham about 2 miles from the hotel along to beachfront. Absolutely the most picturesque little spot by the sea – I won’t try to describe it, just look at the photos. Of course such a visit would not be complete for me without the serenity being obliterated by a duo of whipper snippers (not one but two!). I know the grass needs to be cut some time but I think these guys follow me around the world with their leaf blowers, whipper snippers, chainsaws and various other noise making implements of maintenance.

I should mention that across the road from the Midland Hotel was a Blackpool style fun parlour that also hired out bicycles, so I hired one this morning which took me to Heysham and later along the bike path to Lancaster. In all I think I cycled about 10 miles – and felt very tired and sore in the posterior afterwards. In Lancaster I saw the Lancaster Priory and wandered around the outside of the castle. I was a bit tired and hungry by this time so kept the sightseeing to a minimum.

Lunch was a small picnic back in the car consisting of a punnet of fresh raspberries – all perfect and tasty, a fresh fig, some Scottish oatcakes with Yorkshire blue cheese, a bag of green salad and some organic chocolate. You can’t ask for a better lunch than that.

Now the bloke who ran the fun parlour also gave me a great travel tip. He suggested that instead of taking the motorway to Leeds I might like to take the scenic route, and again I was go glad of the local knowledge. He told me to drive to Skipton, then Harrogate and then to Leeds. Well the scenery was just wonderful – miles of hedgerows just like they drive through in Top Gear, tiny little stone villages, gorgeous green hills – it was really a fantastic drive. Probably much longer than the motorway but a hundred times more interesting. In Harrogate he said I should go to Betty’s tearooms. I got to Harrogate at about 4.30 – a little late for tea I thought, and how on earth was I going to find these tearooms? Harrogate is a rather classy little area and I only had to ask one person to find that I was very near said tearooms and they were indeed very much worth visiting and still very open and busy at that time of day. Betty’s tearooms are like Koko Black but with high tea. A big menu of exquisite delicacies – I settled on the house tea, which came with a full silver service and a lovely fine cup and saucer that was large and held about half a litre of tea. I also had a raspberry macaroon with more fresh raspberries – yum. After that I felt much better and pressed on to Leeds.

I’m here in Leeds now at the Malmaison hotel for 2 nights. While the room is cheaper than the Midland it’s also smaller, has no view and is next to the lift - which I can hear. It’s a very nice room for what it is but the area looks a bit dead. Luckily I have a day at Leeds University tomorrow interviewing Colin Barnes and looking at archival material for my film. I think I’ll try and make and early escape to the lakes on Saturday morning.

Betty's tearooms - Harrogate - a must if you're near.

Church yard at Heysham

Internet is only free for the first 30 minutes too which annoys me – $15 if you go over time so I might be offline for a day or so after this.

Some Serious Stuff

2010-09-08T14:38:00.000-07:00

Not surprising but my eat and run plan last night totally fell by the wayside as a 3 course meal and French red wine is not a thing to be rushed. Found myself at a table of charming new friends full of lively conversation so I got back to the hotel late.

I’m also finding it difficult to sleep in because as soon as I’m awake my mind is on full alert. This morning I was up at 6.30 because I thought the clock said 7.30. By the time I realised the mistake I was up with a cup of tea immersed in internet research.

I’ve achieved a lot today so tomorrow I’m planning some sightseeing before I leave Lancaster and then and evening of tape logging. (let’s see if those plans come to fruition).

The reason for my coming to this conference made sense today as I recorded 4 interviews with key figures in the disabled people’s movement as it’s called here. Unfortunately all had the unavoidable vertical blinds background – with varying degrees of colour correction depending on the time of day. The plan is that a combination of their scintillating comments and an abundance of archival visual material will make it all good.

First interview was with Carol Thomas, head of the Centre for Disability Research who put on the conference here in Lancaster. Amongst other things she talked about how those in the medical profession need to better understand the experience of disabled people. She also talked about the additional disadvantages experienced by women with disabilities and she told a story of a disabled woman who had a child on her own without a partner (beyond initial conception obviously). She said that every time a midwife or other support service came to the woman’s home she would spend ages making sure that the house looked neat and tidy because she was terrified that if anyone thought that she wasn’t coping with motherhood then social services might be brought in to remove her child from her.

Peter Beresford came next and talked about users of mental health services and how they are often not allowed to contribute to society. He gave the example of a woman he knew who was not allowed to adopt a child because of a past history of schizophrenia despite her having what he considered were the makings of a very good mother.

The message that I get from these two examples is that as a society we are not coming from a viewpoint that disabled people have these rights and should be supported to succeed. Instead there is an attitude that disabled people are incapable, and their taking on responsibilities becomes a burden for society if and when they need additional support.

Adolf Ratska was my next interviewee and he talked about his journey from Germany to California in the 1970’s where he encountered the independent living movement and ultimately moved to Sweden where he established the Swedish independent living centre.

Finally Pam Thomas talked about her involvement with the Direct Action Network in the early 1990’s participating in lively protests including those against Telethon – which seems ubiquitous across the world – and inaccessible railways. She also talked about some of the disability arts performers including Johnny Crescendo who I’m going to meet in America. Everyone I talk to knows and loves Johnny so I’m really looking forward to meeting him.

I’m back where I was this time yesterday waiting to go to another dinner. Really tired and really only ready for a night in front of the telly – like that’s going to happen. I haven’t watched a moment of telly since I left home (not including the 4 movies on the plane). I only found out we have a new government from someone I spoke to here. I’m assuming Gillard is still PM but the really important thing is is Bill Shorten still our man in Canberra?

Haven’t take a single photo today that wasn’t at 25 frames per second but tomorrow I promise a little more sightseeing and colour and movement.

More than Kippers

2010-09-07T14:57:00.000-07:00

Okay it's a Kipper - it tasted better than it looks

I’m afraid that the only image I have from today is the kipper I had for breakfast and really the day was about so much more than kippers.

Day 1 of the disability studies conference at Lancaster University. The conference organisers set me up in my own little room so I could set up and film some interviews. While I’m not there the room can be locked so there’s minimal packing and unpacking and dragging gear around – a big plus. Unfortunately the visual interest point of the room is as set of the ubiquitous vertical blinds. How many times have I found myself in a room with 27 chairs, a whiteboard and vertical blinds and had to make it look interesting. Next time I think I’ll attempt a vertical sculpture out of the chairs for the background – actually that’s not a bad idea – maybe tomorrow – they are a very fetching shade of royal blue.

The day started with an interview with retired Professor Len Barton (no relation). Len wore a hat, which partially made up for the lack of visual interest in the background but also made him tricky to light. We had a great conversation that included a story about his transformation from working in special schools to being a committed critic of special education. I was well prepared for the interview with Len as it had been booked in some weeks ago so I’d done my reading and knew enough of what he is about to ask intelligent questions - phew.

Later in the afternoon I seized the opportunity to interview Alan Sutherland the founder of …. And a great exponent of disability arts. This time I had done the reading …. About 3 months ago and had forgotten much of it – or at least failed to immediately match name with stories. Thankfully soon after we began I had enough of a picture so things started to come back to me. Alan is a performer and a storyteller and was happy to speak frankly …”I might get myself killed for saying this but …..” is always a good omen for an interviewer.

Between interviews I managed to attend one conference session – on death and dying. The woman from Israel and I were shocked to learn that some disabled people in the UK can find themselves with DNR’s (Do Not Resuscitate) attached to them against their will. They live in fear that if they find themselves critically ill in hospital the doctors will NOT to everything they can to save them despite their own desire to be resuscitated and to continue with their lives. They must depend on loved ones to lobby for their lives to be saved. This isn’t really anything I’ve ever thought about before but I don’t think it happens in Australia. Correct me if I’m wrong but have the Brits just go a bit ahead of themselves in thinking this one through?

Three interviews lined up for tomorrow including Adolf Ratska who is a major figure in the Independent Living Movement and very charming.

I have quite a bit of homework to do tonight and I rather foolishly booked in to go to the conference dinner, which doesn’t start until 8pm. My hotel is half an hour from the conference and I can only get internet access there as at the University it simply won’t work. If I can get away with it I think I will eat and run.

How many yards in a mile?

2010-09-06T10:14:00.000-07:00

Day one - Welcome

Well it’s 5.25 in the afternoon as I begin this and I’m counting down until a respectable time to go to bed. I’ve had about 4 hours sleep in the last 42 hours or so but I want to get my brain into UK time as quickly as possible so I’m not going to bed before 6pm.

I flew over in the new giant A380 plane which was lovely to fly in – really quiet, great in flight entertainment but the best bit of all are the springy basket type things that you can put your feet in while you sleep – they hang from the seat in front of you and really make a difference to comfort. Don’t get too excited – it’s still economy and you’re still squashed in like a sardine but I find my thrills where I can and the foot basket (for want of a better term) did it for me. Oh and there’s also the sky cam where control freaks like me can oversee take off and landing – camera in the tail so the view is amazing.

Landed at Heathrow at 5.40am, chose myself a nifty little Peugeot for the week and set of northward chaperoned by TomTom the persistent sat nav who earned her keep in the first day.

Lancaster turned out to be somewhat further than I guessed – 5 hours drive including several breakfast stops for caffeine replenishment. All I needed was some decent music for the drive, and my wish became reality when the best coffee stop (some were dire hence the need for so many) also yielded a triple CD boxed set of Funk Classics. Gil Scott Heron, Marvin Gaye, plus a whole lot party lovin’ good times from all sorts of obscure masters of the funk oeuvre.

Slipped a disc into the CD player, volume loud and suddenly the miles just melt away. Speaking of miles as they do here, does anyone know how many yards are in a mile? And do I need to worry about furlongs or is that just if I’m on a horse? And what exactly is the speed limit on the motorway? You know the only speed limit signs are the electronic variable ones where they want you to slow down for some reason or other, but slow down from what? Not one single sign saying what the actual ordinary everyday limit is? So I settle in at about 70 miles per hour (that’s about 110 – 120 K’s according to my helpful French speedometer) and the trucks on the left are going a bit slower but the Audis and BMW’s on my right are going much much faster. I decide that they must have their own designated speed limits and of course when studio 54 starts up in the CD player I decide that I’ll pretend I too am in an Audi and drive accordingly. Uncle Vicroads does remind me from time to time that “speed kills” and drowsy drivers die” but hey I’m abroad and there are apparently no speed limits on English motorways. …… I find out later that the legal limit is in fact 70 miles per hour but honestly how would you know. There are absolutely no signs and no one else appears to know either.

Now settled in to the Midland Hotel at Morecombe. A fabulously refurbished art deco hotel right on the beachfront of this windswept northern town near Lancaster. The beach is about a mile wide at low tide – which it seems to be all day. Hope I have the energy for a run in the morning as it’s the perfect spot – promenade right out the front.

See photos – the place is a classic.

Tomorrow is day one of the conference I’ve come here for and I hope I’m feeling ready by then. One interview scheduled and several more to arrange.

So welcome to the blog – hope you all enjoy it. Post comments if you can. I’ll aim for daily posts but if things get out of hand that may fall by the wayside.

Midland Hotel - one view from my room.

Staircase - Midland Hotel