Thursday 19 June 2014

A Day of Simple Pleasures

The day of simple pleasures started at 6:55 AM when my smartphone activated an alarm clock. One might wonder what can be pleasant about being woken up at 6:55 AM. The answer is: not having to get up; it was my time in lieu day and I simply forgot to switch off the alarm clock the night before. So, instead of bracing myself to enter the cold world of weekday mornings, I just muted the screaming phone and immediately fell asleep.

Another pleasure, when I finally got out of bed, was to take as much time as I wanted to finish breakfast. Arguably, this kind of indulgence is available on most weekends. That day, however, was special: on a Monday morning I was sitting on a backyard terrace, watching frolicking lorikeets and enjoying my morning tea, while my colleagues were attending scheduled meetings, driving company profits, doing other very important tasks...

It's remarkable how TIL days feel different from an annual leave. They are supposed to compensate an employee for overtime, when he is tired after weekend work and feels like having a day off, but usually, by the time one gets his TIL, that feeling passes, and it's not perceived as a compensation - it's more like a bonus.

It was a rare sunny day, I had no plans and just on a whim decided to go to Manly beach. The morning peak hour was over and I got there exactly in GPS-predicted 38 minutes. A stroll along the promenade to Shelly Beach was a kind of pastime that evoked vacation memories and made me feel like I had all the time in the world.

On the promenade a few things attracted my attention. One was a sign which threatened me with 6 months' imprisonment if I manhandled a water dragon. I suspiciously looked around and, to my relief, didn't notice any dragons in my epsilon-vicinity. I don't know if I could restrain myself from grabbing that cute and cuddly creature if I saw it on a cliff face.

I had also noticed a shop sign which initially enraged my inner grammar Nazi.

However, a closer inspection of the premises revealed solid legal grounds for such outrage, namely, an assorted range of T-shirts.

My next simple pleasure was a lunch in a cafe on a sea shore, with a sea view. Well, slightly obscured by araucarias, but still a sea view. The place was called MOO Gourmet Burgers. We came there 10 minutes before the kitchen opening, but were allowed to spend that time on a balcony, enjoying the view: powerful thundering surf, a lonely sail and distant surfers at Winki break wiggling their way between waves and rocks.


The burger I chose from the menu was pretty tall. Actually, I was never quite sure about how to approach such burgers. Holding it in a hand and biting alternatively the top, the bottom and the middle seemed fiddly and tiresome. Trying to squash the burger so that it could fit in the mouth was a sure way of squeezing the patty out and sending it across the cafe into someone's face. Using knife and fork... hmm, that didn't sound like the right way to treat a burger. Finally, I settled on splitting it into two halves - a healthy half with salad and tomato, and a man's half with beef and cheese - and nibbling at them in turns. That worked quite well and my peace of mind was restored.



I liked the cafe's moo-themed decor: kids' drawings of cows on the walls, logos on serviettes and cow spotted drinking straws. Moo was everywhere - they even had Moo beer from Moorilla Brewery in Tasmania. When I visited Moorilla last December, I was too preoccupied with wine tasting and didn't pay much attention to beer. That was a mistake since I discovered that one of the beer varieties produced there was my favourite Hefeweizen. Now I know the place where to taste it in Sydney, and I am going to visit that place when the ambient temperature calls for beer, not for whiskey.


When I returned home I felt like having afternoon tea, an intention which was immediately carried out to my complete satisfaction. Again, I was sitting on the terrace, drinking T2 Blue Mountain tea, burning an incense stick, watching plumes of smoke snaking in the wind, and squinting at the setting Sun, which ineffectually tried to blind me, but only succeeded in bathing my backyard in warm golden glow.

My last simple pleasure that day was making fire in the open fireplace, basking in its radiant heat and watching the dancing flames.


Sunday 15 June 2014

Central Coast's Hidden Liquor Treasures

Last year we spent a week in Terrigal, a nice little town in Central Coast. So little, in fact, that after staying for a couple of days there one starts looking for some variety, unless one is a die-hard beachgoer. We weren't; so we jumped into the car and went exploring. We looked for road signs pointing to places of interest, and it happened so that the first three directed us to liquor producers. Well, we were looking for entertainment - we'd got it.

Sunday 1 June 2014

2013 Trip to Tasmania - Tamar Valley Wineries

According to my notes, we visited 22 wineries in Tasmania, and 15 of them were in Tamar Valley. It is a big region and wineries are not as compactly grouped as in Mudgee or Yarra Valley, so it took us two days to visit all of them. It was still low season so in most wineries we were the only visitors - the way I like it as I get all the attention. I'll tell you about the wineries which left some impression regardless of the quality of their wine. 

Tuesday 29 April 2014

2013 Trip to Tasmania - Flowers and The Last Retreat

It was the only time of the year, two weeks around the border between November and December, when we could see both of them. We specifically planned the trip for that time, half a year in advance telling our bosses that they had to adjust their business plans so that their companies would not collapse in our absence. If we arrived two weeks earlier or later we would see only one or another. It had to be the right time of the year, time when both poppies and lavender were in bloom. And you know what - it was a wrong year!

Saturday 12 April 2014

2013 Trip to Tasmania - Laurel Cottage and Frogmore Creek Winery

Port Arthur was our last destination in South-East of Tasmania after which we moved inland. That day we didn't have any more time for sightseeing, so we went straight to our next one-night accommodation, Laurel Cottage in Richmond. We came there ten minutes before the declared arrival time and were gently chastised by the cottage owner for not warning her by phone. Having been overwhelmed by such welcome, we silently grabbed the keys, dropped our bags, and rushed to take a sunset photo of the historical Richmond Bridge, which was found only 50 metres away.


Monday 31 March 2014

2013 Trip to Tasmania - Day 5 - Port Arthur

Port Arthur... Port Arthur... The name rang a bell but, as it turned out, a wrong one. Port Arthur that I had in mind was a place of the most violent battle of the Russo-Japanese War. Obviously, it's not a good name for a town since Tasmanian Port Arthur also became known around the world for all the wrong reasons. Initially, it was a prison for British convicts popularised in Marcus Clarke's novel For the Term of His Natural Life. However, the locals did not want any stake in such kind of fame and even renamed the town to Carnarvon to disassociate themselves from the penal history of the site. Still, the gruesome past of one of the most brutal convict settlements proved to be a strong tourist attraction, and Carnarvonians were smart enough to realise that they would earn more money as Port-Arthurians, so the original name was restored in 1927. Sixty nine years later Port Arthur earned another grisly badge as a place of the deadliest massacre in the recent Australian history. After such introduction you will understand that we just couldn't miss it.


I can't say that the site itself was beautiful or impressive unless you are impressed by ruins. Come to think of it, what with 20 million tourists coming to see the remnants of Colosseum every year, I probably represent minority in this matter. Nevertheless, even I found a few ways to pleasantly pass the time in Port Arthur.

There were a few scheduled activities which were included into the price of an entry ticket, such as Harbour Cruise. Normally, I would eagerly board a boat, but having survived Tasman Island Cruise earlier that day, I found the phrase "water attractions" oxymoronic and kept my distance from the shore. Nevertheless, I quite enjoyed a guided walking tour during which I visited all notable places and learned a lot about the history of Port Arthur, including why there were so many convicts in Britain at that time. It appeared that there were three main factors which simultaneously caused a high level of unemployment, and consequently, crime. Firstly, a lot of soldiers returned home after the end of Napoleonic Wars. Secondly, industrialisation started to pick up and many factory workers were made redundant. Finally, it was the time when landlords found it more profitable to develop the land themselves than to rent it to farmers. All this combined with tough laws, which allowed sentences up to 21 years for petty theft, provided a steady flow of convicts to overcrowded British gaols until the government decided to offshore correctional services.

After the tour I spent an hour in a museum learning curious facts about life in the penal colony and gazing at things made or used by convicts and officers. In that museum I found a particoloured "magpie convict suit" which I remembered seeing before, possibly in some movie, and thinking it was just a regular prisoner's uniform. It turned out that such uniform was reserved only for recidivists and was considered humiliating.

The last place I visited in Port Arthur was Convict Gallery, or as I called it, Card House. At the entrance every visitor was given a playing card which had a convict's name on it and they could find a story of that convict in the Gallery. Of course, I was curious to check why my miscreant was transported to Terra Australis and how he fared here. His story was not remarkable, but what I found interesting was that the harshness of British laws was offset by rather liberal parole rules in Australia. Prisoners were released on parole after serving less than half their sentence even though they committed misdemeanors in gaol. They also underwent training in trades while serving their sentence which gave them good prospects of finding a job upon release.

I found the visit to Port Arthur quite entertaining despite my general dislike of the museums; for me it was more of an educational experience than sightseeing. The convict history in Australia was unusual enough to keep me interested for at least a couple of hours and I would spend more time there had we come earlier. However, I won't go there again any time soon. That place is like a book: once you've read it, it will take some time before you feel like reading it again.



By the way, I've told you a lie. The last place I visited in Port Arthur was actually a gift shop where I was supplied with a piece of clothing. As you can see it's not a magpie suit; I wasn't that bad.

Sunday 9 March 2014

2013 Trip to Tasmania - Day 4 - Convict Station

When my wife told me she booked a room in Norfolk Bay Convict Station I expected to spend the night in a refurbished prison offering to experience the 19th century life of a British convict transported to Van Diemen's Land for the term of his natural life. In fact, it was built by convicts as a warehouse and the Australia's first railway station near the place where ships from Hobart unloaded. Later it was converted to a guesthouse where the owners tried to preserve the period atmosphere. Not being an expert on the convict era I can't tell how successful they were in their endeavour but the place did look anachronic. 

Thursday 27 February 2014

2013 Trip to Tasmania - Cruises

Not all cruises start with a stately
procession through Sydney Harbour on board of a towering white ship. The ones we booked in Tasmania began with donning a red waterproof jacket and strapping ourselves to the seats of a yellow speedboat. However, before we were allowed to lay our hands on those jackets we had to wait in a queue for another day. We came to Bruny Island innocently assuming that on a Tuesday, two weeks before school holidays we would be welcome guests at any tourist attraction. No way, José! The whole cruise, all 100 seats, was sold out and we were only offered tickets for the next day. Well, we didn't book the seats in advance because we wanted to keep our schedule flexible, so we got an opportunity to flex it. This is why I was talking about tasty place rather than sea adventures on Day 3.

Thursday 13 February 2014

2013 Trip to Tasmania - Day 3 - Bruny Island - Tasty Places


Smokehouse was the first place we visited on Bruny Island. Pretty much everything we tried there - smoked trout, salmon, sardines, sausages - was delicious. Unfortunately, most of their products had to be kept in a cool place so we couldn't take them with us. Just goes to show that there are places, like Cascade Brewery and that smokehouse, that you have to visit personally to fully enjoy their produce. They also had an impressive drinks bar to accompany their food - I wished there was a taxi service on the island, or at least my wife had a driver's licence.

The next destination was Bruny Island Cheese Company. Our first encounter with their cheeses was at Sydney Good Food and Wine Show earlier that year. Olga was so impressed by the taste that she made it a mandatory stop on our route (and, possibly, planned the whole trip to Tasmania as a pretext). At the tasting counter we weren't picky, tried whatever was offered and weren't disappointed - all cheeses were good - but if I had to choose the best one I would take soft Oen wrapped in vine leaves. It was so delicious that we ate a whole wheel for dinner. There was also a cafe where we bought and immediately devoured a pizza made with local cheese. Strangely, there wasn't quattro formaggi on the menu, a pizza which could be their signature dish.

Discovery: washed rind cheese is hand-washed with salty water daily during its maturation process. I guess, it explains the prices.

Sunday 2 February 2014

2013 Trip to Tasmania - Day 2 - Bruny Island - 43 Degrees

What with scones and towers we nearly missed the 5 pm ferry to Bruny Island. That ferry was the main reason why we chose Bargain Car Rentals - they were the only company that insured a ferry trip to Bruny. The crossing itself took just 15 min but with boarding and disembarking time it added up to half an hour.

The directions to the hotel were:
After disembarking from the ferry at Roberts Point, drive south for approx. 30 klms...
I wondered which road I should take, but I shouldn't have worried - there was just one starting at the ferry wharf. It was called Main Road. As we were going south we passed many places which we intended to visit later - a smokehouse, a cheese company, a chocolate factory and a berry farm. Finally we arrived at 43 Degrees Apartments in Adventure Bay.

Tuesday 28 January 2014

2013 Trip to Tasmania - Day 2 - Shot Tower

We came there for scones. Olga read someone's review which held the scones served in the Shot Tower cafe in the highest regard. It took us a while to figure out how to order them as they were not on the menu. We were looking for scones but what we needed was Devonshire Tea. I am glad we sorted it out because missing those scones would be a tragedy. I could write another paragraph describing them, but this post is not intended for Google+ Food Porn community. Keeping it short and sweet, they were addictive. If that alone was not enough, the raspberry jam served with the scones was the best one I've ever bought. In retail it is known as Steph's Kitchen brand and I couldn't leave that place without a jar of it.

Saturday 18 January 2014

2013 Trip to Tasmania - Day 2 - MONA and Moorilla

That day our first destination was going to please my wife rather than me - we were going to MONA, Museum of Old and New Art. It was mostly known for N rather than for O, and I, being no fan of modern visual arts, expected to spend our time there with "Yes, darling" mask on my face. However, I was delighted to discover that the museum owner thoughtfully placed it in a vineyard. In a real vineyard with a real cellar door! I din't know if I would have stomach for wine after New Art so I set the priorities accordingly - first, the winery, then everything else.

The place was called Moorilla. A modern building, sleek design and wine bottles with stylish black-and-white labels lined up on the counter. At that time I didn't realise that they would, almost literally, give me a taste of what to expect in the museum. In cellar doors I usually try to buy either good or unusual wines - they had both. I'll tell you about the latter - it was 2011 Muse Cabernet Sauvignon with smoke and capsicum flavours. Capsicum was explained by early harvest (which later appeared to be a distinctive feature of southern Tasmanian vineyards.) I wondered where the smoke came from - if it wasn't a bushfire then they should be careful not to hire smokers to harvest grapes. When I mentioned it to the girl who conducted the tasting, that young rosy-cheeked lady said that the wine's smokiness reminded her of Laphroaig... I looked at her with new interest. My wife once told me that she became a centre of attention and almost gravitational attraction for all nearby males when she sauntered in a shopping centre carrying a bottle of Johnny Walker's Blue Label. Obviously, there is something about proximity of women and whisky, geographically or even in a sentence, that arouses men's interest. 

Having finished with cellar door business we headed to MONA.

Tuesday 7 January 2014

2013 Trip to Tasmania - Day 1 - Lark Distillery

We left the car in the motel and walked to the city. It was a short stroll which took us from Battery Point to Salamanca, past several noisy pubs occupied by Hobart's finest, along the waterfront and, finally, to The Lark Distillery.

The place looked like a bar - the first thing that caught my attention was a collection of whisky bottles beyond the counter. Possibly there are bars with a richer choice of whisky (they say that in Scotland any bar has 20 sorts of whisky just on tap), but I still have to find one. However, there was no point in going all the way from Sydney to Hobart just to taste Glenfiddich, so I asked for local booze which should have been available for tasting as the joint was called a cellar door. Indeed it was available for a small fee that I found reasonable as some bottles reached the price of Johnny Walker's Blue Label. Where is a tasting there is a talk. The guy who lectured us on the subtleties of Tasmanian whisky was knowledgeable and obviously liked his own produce. When he started the tasting blurb by saying "This is what I call a breakfast whisky," I couldn't help exclaiming "I love Hobart!"

Good thing I wasn't driving - I would hate to spit their whiskies out. All of them were good but the cask-strength whisky (58% ABV) aged in port barrels was hands down outstanding. Before that tasting I knew the difference between old and new casks. Now I know the difference between old wine and old port casks - whisky matured in the latter had a brighter and richer taste. It possessed an almost dessert quality - vanilla flavour was followed by a smooth and sweet taste which would be a good match to some kind of Danish pastry.

I guess the price of that whisky was justified but at that time I was not prepared to invest a small fortune into a half-a-litre bottle so I limited myself to a 100 ml hip flask. Now I have to be on my best behaviour for the rest of the year as my next message starts like this:
Dear Santa,
You know that Lark Distillery in Hobart...


Sunday 5 January 2014

Moving from antropov.id.au to Blogger

I am going to start publishing my blog posts here as Blogger provides better integration with Google+ and lower maintenance than a custom Wordpress site. My previous blog antropov.id.au where I started the current series of posts about my trip to Tasmaina will stay dormant for the time being. Let's see if I am going to miss all those widgets and plugins.

2013 Trip to Tasmania - Day 1 - St Ives Apartments

After Mount Wellington we headed to St Ives Apartments. It appeared to be a regular city motel - multi-storey without individual entrances as you see in a regular countryside motel. They offered a reasonably priced continental breakfast which we bought and received straight away on check-in. The breakfast was of a kind which provided just enough energy to see you through till the morning tea.

Our room was quite spacious, but the windows were smallish. I glanced out of the window and noticed teenagers on the roof across the road drinking something, possibly illegal for their age. I looked at them, they looked at me. I kept a decent pause and then withdrew. Apart from the teenagers and distant mountains the major feature of the view was an apartment block where people went about their business oblivious to my attention like inhabitants of a fish tank.


There isn't anything else worth writing about that place. All in all, it was a no-frills, no-nonsense motel whose main advantage was its location: close to Salamanca historical district, the city centre and a bottle shop.