The unfortunate thing about shooting a TV series about New Zealand Fisheries officers is that they tend to say ‘Fish’ a lot (or the NZ equivalent). Fortunately in recent episodes the poachers seem to be catching paua (looks like abalone to me), which is probably easier for them to pronounce.
Archive for December, 2005
Fush
Tuesday, December 13th, 2005Melbourne, Day 3: Whippets
Tuesday, December 6th, 2005Last day of the install. Of course today is the day that all the changes wind up happening. This is not good, but it is What The Client Wants(tm). It also reduces the amount of time available for their training. Everything seems to be working, and I get to put my MySQL skills to use. We head off into the sunset, our misson here done (for the moment at least).
Then it’s a quick wind down at the hotel and off to Southbank to meet up with my cow-orker’s XBox clan, the Whippets (no, I do not have an XBox. I still resent them because Microsoft bought Halo from Bungie when it was just about to be released for the Mac). Dinner is at The Blue Train, (which I later discovered was started by the person who also started Taxi/Transport and Upper/Lower House in Federation Square, and is one of the busiest restaurants in Melbourne).
Amusingly it seems that many of the clan used to hang out in the foyer of an XBox Rambo game, which is where you go when you’re dead. Obviously it offered more socialisation opportunities.
After dinner it was off to eat icecream under the footbridge. Chocolate chilli was great, starting off with chocolate-cinammon flavours with a nice warm chilli aftertaste. The Yarra crawled past like something out of The Blob.
Back to the hotel and tonight’s marathon of Men In Black (the Animated series). The previous evening was Invader Zim. Very distracting.
Meanwhile, Telstra’s wireless access point at the hotel has never SMS’d me to tell me it had finished charging me. I imagine it’s still billing me until I have to mortgage the house again or something.
Melbourne Day 2: Constant Gardening
Tuesday, December 6th, 2005We adjust the morning rendezvous time to be a bit later. I’m still a bit late 
Breakfast and off to the site once again. Now I’ve taken advantage of the hotel laundry service (hand luggage only, remember?), magically at the end of the day I discover my clothes have re-appeared in my closet, washed and ironed.
Lunch is at a little Vietnamese place. Neither of us are particularly hungry. Despite everything having gone well yesterday we’re now having to modify the install to comply with the local security policies, which are at odds with what we’re being paid to do. Training and installation of other components of the system continues.
After work it’s off to the movies, and I suggest that maybe “The Constant Gardener” is a better choice than the “Exorcism of Emily Rose”, conveniently there’s a session at about the right time. We find ourselves in Chinatown, looking for dinner. Fortunately previous experience (and knowledgable friends) tells me that Pepper Chilli is a good bet, and we go there for a most excellent repast.
The Constant Gardener is not what I’d expected from the trailer, but it’s probably hard to make a compelling trailer that says ’subtle British conspiracy thriller’. Sweeping vistas of Africa and African villagers. Much pushing of the poverty/evil drug company message (the film was preceeded by an ad for the UN food program using footage from the film). The director wastes no time getting Ralph Fiennes to get his shirt off (although admittedly, it is with Rachel Weisz :). There’s also gratuitous use of QuickTime, iChat etc. But worthwhile, and my cow-orker seemed to enjoy it.
Canberra, Day 2
Saturday, December 3rd, 2005Woke up and had a most delicious breakfast (”Still warm from the chook’s bum”).
Said goodby to my gracious host and got picked up by the local seeker of Echidnas who took me back to his place (via a brief drive-by tour of the ‘office’) for lunch with the local Canberra branch of his family and the co-seeker of Echidnas. Had a most enjoyable opportunity to catch up with them before we headed off to dinner with some acquaintances of theirs. Then I grabbed a cab off to the airport (5 seconds into the trip the cabbie ran the red light on the pedestrian crossing. Sigh.)
Unfortunately the flight was delayed. Qantas doesn’t seem to bother SMSing me any more when this occurs. Saw Peter Costello getting off the inbound flight. Sadly didn’t think of anything to yell at him as he walked out of the transit lounge.
Canberra’s airport is odd, the advertising is for defence contractors (ie ADI), obviously trying to suck up to whoever’s got the chequebook for the next warship system purchase. Or make the perso who just signed the cheque happier by justifying their choice (”Hey, I just bought one of those”
Hopped a cab out to the Rydges Riverwalk in Richmond (There’s joy in repetition :), where my workmate had already checked in. Prepared our plan of attack for the following morning, put the electronic menagerie on to charge, and then got some shuteye. Bizarrely the hotel room had a balcony with good views of the other hotel rooms. I guess if you were a voyeur or exhibitionist this would be ideal.
Melbourne, Day 5: The Life Aquatic
Friday, December 2nd, 2005Got up, gradually. Discovered it was raining outside. To be expected really. Fortunately I brought along the umbrella I was forced to buy last time I visited Melbourne.
Wandered around the local shops and then caught the train into the CBD. Went to Transport and had their lemon pepper T-bone steak and a beer. Hit the spot. Walked to the NGV and got into the Pop Art of the 60’s exhibition. Not bad. One of the most annoying pieces was a painting of black and white sine waves (think zebra stripes) that caused your brain hardware to start flashing colours into the image, and just general eyestrain. Some photos from Lewis Morley Snr., father of Lewis Morley, SFX artist and regular guest at SF Conventions around Australia.
Also some footage of art construction and installations, such as the guy painting on nylon sheets with hydrochloric acid. The famous Yoko Ono’s “Cut Piece”, and some guy painting a canvas with a goat’s innards.
Looked around some other parts of the museum, there was an interesting textile exhibit, and a photography exhibit. Interestingly the audio commentary on some of the photographic exhibit was an iPod shuffle plugged into a mains power supply with a perspex housing that let you access the controls. On the way out I notice that the Mini on the poster hanging in the gallery is actually a Mini suspended from the roof.
I catch up with Sue Ann and Trevor over coffee and discover the joys of ATC HR management, librarianship, lego and 3D photos. As we’re leaving the Caf?ɬ© an ambulance arrives for one of the other patrons. I hope we didn’t have what they had.
As I’m heading off I recognise Peter and Nikola who are in town for the weekend with the kids to see The Lion King. Somewhere while meeting up with them my phone decides to call Rob and relay my conversation to him. I wander with them up to David Jones’ Santa where we realise that they’re running multiple Santas in parallel. I have never seen so many prams in a lift. I keep Pete company while Nik does the standing in the queue. We browse the toys. I bid my adieus and then head off to find Minotaur to buy a book for mein host.
Eventually I work out that my mental map of where Minotaur is is somewhat skewwiff. I wander through JB Hi-Fi, but nothing leaps out at me as worth purchasing. Or maybe I find too many things worth purchasing and I just can’t decide. At Minotaur I grab a copy of Ilium, I really enjoyed it and I figure that’s a good bet for my host. I restrain myself from purchasing anything else.
Back to meet up with Rob after work and then we head off to pick up Tim and grab dinner. As usual, the restaurant near Rob’s place has serves that are more than we can finish (even though this time I did not order half a duck). It’s off to the video store where the evening’s random selection is The Life Aquatic. We retire to watch it.
Bizarre little flick, but glad I’ve finally got to see it, even if just for Seu Jorge’s David Bowie songs very disconcertingly translated into Brazilian Portuguese.
Once again it’s raining.
Melbourne, Day 4: “Gentlemen, you can’t fight in here! This is The War Room!”
Thursday, December 1st, 2005Hotel brekkie, the gathering of luggage, and then heading off for a walk down Bridge Road into town. I figure if it gets too unpleasant I can always grab a tram or a cab or something.
I pause briefly at the Ferrari dealership near the hotel to make pawing gestures and lick the glass.
Lots of caf?ɬ©s, random places to eat etc. It has got warm. I head onwards towards the Richmond Hill Cafe and Larder.
I arrive, and enjoy the fine but relatively simple food, drink the wine and peruse the cheeses. Then it’s off (via another Long Walk) to the Australian Centre for the Moving Image to see the Stanley Kubrick exhibition. The security/coatcheck attendant wants to look inside my bag (seems reasonable in this age of paranoia), then hands me ticket C4. I grin wryly to myself.
Lots of photos and excerpts from his films, including early ones like Paths of Glory, shot entirely in Germany in 1957 and starring Kirk Douglas.
Scenes from the pie fight in Strangelove’s War Room that wasn’t included in the film (might be on the DVD?) as it was deemed too frivolous. Letters from people thanking him for the film, and condemning him for it. Slim Pickens got the role because Peter Sellers had managed to injure himself after completing filming of his 3 other roles in the film, before he’d got to Slim’s role as Major T. J. “King” Kong. Crew were asked to wear felt overshoes in the War Room in order to not scratch its highly polished floor.
Lolita also went down well with the letter writing public.
Likewise Clockwork Orange. One amusing letter mentioned how horrific the violence was, but how great the sex was. Oh, how great the sex was. But all that violence. Eventually Kubrick had the film pulled from Great Britain due to death threats, probably also because of the copycat violence that the media picked up on. The Irish wanted to censor it. Portugal (if memory serves me) banned it.
I retrieve my bag. (The different coatcheck guy says “C4, explosive”. I don’t know what to say to that, I expect anything I say could get me detained at this point. Certainly if I was in an airport…). I note that the Australian Game Developers’ Conference is on this weekend. This accounts for the high quantity of game developer types hanging around. Seminars on IP, project management, etc. seem to be the go. Overheard discussions about workplace conditions. Not as exciting or as alternative as one might have hoped
Wander into the National Gallery of Victoria’s Ian Potter centre to check out the permanent collection, a particular Altson and some of Bunny’s work. I plan a rendezvous with my gracious Melbourne host to pick up a key to his place. The info booth knows where to dump your luggage in Melbourne, but neither seems particularly convenient (worried about you blowing people up, I guess). Further up the street I get to check out the Myer Christmas window, a tradition I remember from my childhood. Fortunately it’s not as crowded now as it will be on the weekend. A few bookstores later (and unable to find Minotaur) I collapse in the foyer of my host’s building, which seems for some reason to be full of schoolgirls.
Having exchanged greetings and obtained the key, I dump my luggage in his boot and head off to the train station to get to his house.
I arrive and settle in. We hook up with another Telstra employee friend who’s re-applying for his job that no longer exists, and help him improve his CV. In a desperate bid to distract them from important work I introduce them to Teachers. Then it’s time for sleep.
