With Daniel Morcombe’s remains found and a man charged with the Sunshine Coast teenager’s murder, the term “stranger danger” is again front-of-mind. Leading the way are Daniel’s brave parents Bruce and Denise, who have summoned unimaginable strength to travel the state, speaking to school students about personal safety. The Morcombes are also devising a universal distress signal so children can attract attention and fend off would-be attackers.
What concerns me is that any increased media and community focus on stranger danger has two undesirable consequences. Firstly, it creates a perception that our community is filled with child-abductors. The target of this paranoia is generally older men, as seen recently when a group of semi-retired blokes at Palmwoods set up a Men’s Shed so they could socialise and potter together. In no time, there was a complaint to Sunshine Coast Regional Council, arguing that it was no longer safe for children to walk alone in the area.
The second and arguably far more serious side-effect of shining the spotlight on strangers as perpetrators is that the abuse of children in the home, inflicted by trusted adults and family members, disappears into the shadows. As Megan Y said to me in a recent email: “Tragic as it is, cases like that of Daniel Morcombe are incredibly rare thankfully. Crimes like child abuse, abduction and infanticide are usually committed by family members, trusted family friends, church people or foster carers. Why the constant fear-mongering/repetition of the anti-public transport/you must drive your children everywhere meme? I haven’t seen any evidence that the risk of children abduction is higher today than it was when we all walked/rode our bikes/caught buses unaccompanied as children.”
Indeed, a 2007 Griffith University study found that strangers accounted for only 14 per cent of the sexual abuse of children. Friends and family friends were responsible for 50 per cent, whilst 35 per cent of cases involved a family member.
I’m also concerned about the false sense of security created by the Blue Card system which can only ever detect, and protect children from, those who have already attracted the attention of police. There is nothing to stop a child abuser who hasn’t been caught from holding a Blue Card.
All of this leads me to the importance of empowering children within the home. I’m not saying you should panic or suddenly be suspicious of your husband, wife or others who live under your roof or spend time alone with your children. Instead, be pro-active and talk to your children about safety and trust.
Brisbane blogger, radio producer and child abuse survivor Annie Reuss suggests using these words: “An adult who truly loves you will never make you feel afraid – they will always make you feel safe, even when they are angry at you. If an adult ever makes you feel afraid you should always speak to another adult who makes you feel safe.
“Adults should never, ever touch you in sexual places and if they do it is wrong and another adult needs to know about it straight away. Even if they tell you they will do something terrible to someone if you tell on them, don’t believe them. They won’t. “Even if it is someone in your family you must tell someone you trust. You can be brave and you can stop them from hurting others.”
Annie says she always wishes she had spoken up when she was little. “He went on to abuse others and I could have stopped him from doing this by speaking up, but I didn’t and I do feel very bad about that. I didn’t speak up because you know once you do everything changes. Even though you don’t like being abused, it is the only family you know, so it’s a double-edged sword.”
I know other survivors who haven’t felt strong enough to speak up until their 30s and 40s. They share Annie’s guilt – that they could have saved younger family members from the same pain – but at the same time they are relieved to have finally sought justice. It’s never too late for that once scared child inside you to find the strength to tell someone. Finally, a plea to anyone who touches children inappropriately. You are betraying trust, inflicting fear and impacting lives forever. You must stop. Seek help today. Please.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Monday, September 5, 2011
Bmag September 6th 2011 - E-Books smell good too!
I’m not sure how serious he was, or whether he regrets saying it out loud, let alone on radio, but according to Brisbane author John Birmingham, the place where you’ll find writers at a writers’ festival is the green room – partly to avoid the punters but mainly to pick others’ brains about tax minimisation! It’s perhaps devilish of me to have memorised that quote from Richard Fidler’s Conversations program, not to mention repeating it here, but it guarantees that whenever the Brisbane Writers’ Festival comes around – this year from 7 to 11 September – I always think of Birmo! Coincidently, John Birmingham has just joined 612 ABC Brisbane for a month, filling in for Richard Fidler!
Aside from tax minimisation, the other hotbutton topic at this year’s Brisbane Writers Festival is sure to be e-books. This year, e-readers have taken the giant leap from earlyadopter fanboi technology to widespread realisation that they really are the future. I’ll admit I’m still old-school. I prefer to spread out the newspaper, flick through my hand-delivered copy of bmag, browse my CDs and DVDs, and get my hands on a good book. Preferably one I’ve bought rather than borrowed from the library. And it goes without saying that books smell good!
I will admit that when Geoff Cavanagh from 612’s promos department thrust an e-reader into my hands a few months ago, I could see the appeal straight away. I learned that the screen doesn’t hurt your eyes like a computer monitor. That you can store thousands of books on your reader, and countless more on your computer. That you can look up definitions, check something on the internet, and even switch to audio-book mode (handy if you’re involved in a real page-turner but have to drive somewhere, or cook, or do the ironing!) Feeling somewhat conspicuous lying on the floor of Geoff ’s office, I felt how light it was to hold an e-reader above your head as if in bed. And finally, to my great surprise, I learned that Geoff ’s e-reader, with its leather case, smelled good! Not the same smell as a book but an appealing, comforting smell nonetheless.
Guess what I bought my wife for her next birthday? She hasn’t looked back. In fact, when Nikki decided to re-read George Orwell’s 1984, she chose to pay the – brace yourself – 99 cents for the e-book instead of reading the dog-eared hardcopy that’s been sitting in our bookshelves for years! Yes, she is an instant and complete convert. It takes a critical number of converts for new technology to take off but that is what has happened with e-books and e-readers in 2011. At least one online retailer recently announced it now sells more e-books than physical books.
Hence, as literary types gather for the Brisbane Writers Festival, talk will turn to e-book opportunities and challenges. Brisbane author Nick Earls – appearing at this year’s festival – shared some of his thoughts with me during a recent visit to the 612 ABC studios. Nick says he will still make his $3 a book whether a novel is sold in a shop or downloaded as a file. But without printing and transportation costs, the e-book version can be sold for much less. I could have paid just $17 for Nick’s latest (The Fix) as an e-book. Instead, to feed my need for another trophy with the rest of my Nick Earls collection, I parted with $32.95. Nick points out that in the e-book future, that back-catalogue of his will always be available. Books will never go “out of print”. Nick is already thinking about tapping into the next big development, the e-novella. Longer than a short story, not quite the full novel, Nick says they will be the perfect length for a flight, selling for just a few dollars.
Of course, the role of publishers in all this has yet to be established but Nick says there will always be a need for editors “to tell me what I need to be told”! And then there are the bookshops, which recently marked the inaugural National Bookshop Day to promote the value of a wellinformed, well-read specialist bookseller. For now, they will continue to appeal to those, like me, who enjoy a physical browse, but you have to wonder about their long-term future.
Aside from tax minimisation, the other hotbutton topic at this year’s Brisbane Writers Festival is sure to be e-books. This year, e-readers have taken the giant leap from earlyadopter fanboi technology to widespread realisation that they really are the future. I’ll admit I’m still old-school. I prefer to spread out the newspaper, flick through my hand-delivered copy of bmag, browse my CDs and DVDs, and get my hands on a good book. Preferably one I’ve bought rather than borrowed from the library. And it goes without saying that books smell good!
I will admit that when Geoff Cavanagh from 612’s promos department thrust an e-reader into my hands a few months ago, I could see the appeal straight away. I learned that the screen doesn’t hurt your eyes like a computer monitor. That you can store thousands of books on your reader, and countless more on your computer. That you can look up definitions, check something on the internet, and even switch to audio-book mode (handy if you’re involved in a real page-turner but have to drive somewhere, or cook, or do the ironing!) Feeling somewhat conspicuous lying on the floor of Geoff ’s office, I felt how light it was to hold an e-reader above your head as if in bed. And finally, to my great surprise, I learned that Geoff ’s e-reader, with its leather case, smelled good! Not the same smell as a book but an appealing, comforting smell nonetheless.
Guess what I bought my wife for her next birthday? She hasn’t looked back. In fact, when Nikki decided to re-read George Orwell’s 1984, she chose to pay the – brace yourself – 99 cents for the e-book instead of reading the dog-eared hardcopy that’s been sitting in our bookshelves for years! Yes, she is an instant and complete convert. It takes a critical number of converts for new technology to take off but that is what has happened with e-books and e-readers in 2011. At least one online retailer recently announced it now sells more e-books than physical books.
Hence, as literary types gather for the Brisbane Writers Festival, talk will turn to e-book opportunities and challenges. Brisbane author Nick Earls – appearing at this year’s festival – shared some of his thoughts with me during a recent visit to the 612 ABC studios. Nick says he will still make his $3 a book whether a novel is sold in a shop or downloaded as a file. But without printing and transportation costs, the e-book version can be sold for much less. I could have paid just $17 for Nick’s latest (The Fix) as an e-book. Instead, to feed my need for another trophy with the rest of my Nick Earls collection, I parted with $32.95. Nick points out that in the e-book future, that back-catalogue of his will always be available. Books will never go “out of print”. Nick is already thinking about tapping into the next big development, the e-novella. Longer than a short story, not quite the full novel, Nick says they will be the perfect length for a flight, selling for just a few dollars.
Of course, the role of publishers in all this has yet to be established but Nick says there will always be a need for editors “to tell me what I need to be told”! And then there are the bookshops, which recently marked the inaugural National Bookshop Day to promote the value of a wellinformed, well-read specialist bookseller. For now, they will continue to appeal to those, like me, who enjoy a physical browse, but you have to wonder about their long-term future.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Bmag August 23rd 2011 - CEO of Qld Rail
Like many boys, I grew up wanting to be a train driver. More than that, I wanted to run the railways! I know this because I have a scrapbook my mum kept throughout my school years. In 1981, the year we left England, I list my ambitions as engine driver and Chairman of British Rail. The following year, our first in Brisbane, it says Commissioner for Railways for Queensland! Some 30 years on, I have finally achieved my dream, thanks to Queensland Rail CEO Paul Scurrah inviting me to spend a morning with him.
We start at Toowong station. As we go down to the platform, Paul makes a point of holding the hand-rail. Safety is the number one priority, he says, and the CEO must lead by example. I hold every handrail I see for the rest of the day! The 8.35am train is so full that Paul Scurrah and I are pressed against the doors. A passenger relishes the opportunity to tell the CEO that it’s like this every day. He seems impressed that Paul is seeing and experiencing it himself.
We alight at Bowen Hills and attend a meeting about the morning peak. There were 11 delays out of 135 services, considered a good start to the day. It’s suggested the method of recording delays needs a rethink. If trains are 15 minutes apart and 15 minutes late, a passenger might not realise they are on a late service. Journey delays, rather than train delays, might be more accurate.
At Mayne, huge artwork stickers – each the size of a carriage – are being applied to the side of a Tilt Train. And you think covering school books is a challenge! If it helps, they too struggle with bubbles and creases!
Soon Paul Scurrah and I are in the CEO’s 15th floor Ann Street office being briefed on the Sunlander-14 project. By 2014, the Cairns Tilt Train will have business seats (airlinestyle flat-beds) and first class cabins (with double beds and en-suites). The corridor windows in these first class cabins will switch from clear to frosted with the touch of a button. Assurances are still being sought that in the event of a power failure, windows will not revert to clear and expose couples “trying to join the metre-high club”. I’m starting to get a sense of the sheer size of Paul Scurrah’s job and the range of issues a CEO has to be across.
Next, a briefing about new measures to prevent level crossing injuries. There’s been a 10 per cent increase in pedestrian nearmisses. New pedestrian gates will be rolled out at key stations, starting with Geebung. Innovative ways of preventing vehicle incidents will be trialled, including runwaystyle lighting in the road and “pinball-machine flippers” instead of traditional boom gates which are “designed to stop horses not cars”.
Channel Nine has been given an exclusive story about anti-rock-throwing fences being installed on the Gold Coast. Paul Scurrah and his media advisers discuss the message they want to get across, that there hasn’t been a death yet but the next rock thrown could be the one. We head to Central Station for the interview.
At Central, I meet two of the hardest working people I’ve ever seen. Sitting in a small room, side by side, with a microphone each and several CCTV screens in front of them, they make all the platform announcements for Central, Roma Street and Fortitude Valley stations! I notice several massive ceiling fans above the platforms. They’re brand new and ready for summer. Paul Scurrah jokes he hopes the hotel above doesn’t take off when they’re turned on.
We catch a train to Roma Street, where I’m shown security footage being analysed and compiled for the police and courts. A former forensics officer, now with Queensland Rail, describes how tough it is watching fatalities over and over from several camera angles. When a recording has sound, it’s worse. He says you have to tell yourself the death has already occurred and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
Finally, over lunch, I meet the man behind @QueenslandRail on Twitter. No wonder Nathan Scholz is invited to address conferences on how companies can embrace social media. No-one does Twitter better. He is responsive, informative and personal. Indeed, that night, whilst I’m flicking through photos and showing my 11-year-old son Jack my Queensland Rail name-tag, it’s a tweet from @QueenslandRail that provides the perfect end to my day: “Spencer Howson, it was our pleasure to help you fulfill your childhood dream”.
We start at Toowong station. As we go down to the platform, Paul makes a point of holding the hand-rail. Safety is the number one priority, he says, and the CEO must lead by example. I hold every handrail I see for the rest of the day! The 8.35am train is so full that Paul Scurrah and I are pressed against the doors. A passenger relishes the opportunity to tell the CEO that it’s like this every day. He seems impressed that Paul is seeing and experiencing it himself.
We alight at Bowen Hills and attend a meeting about the morning peak. There were 11 delays out of 135 services, considered a good start to the day. It’s suggested the method of recording delays needs a rethink. If trains are 15 minutes apart and 15 minutes late, a passenger might not realise they are on a late service. Journey delays, rather than train delays, might be more accurate.
At Mayne, huge artwork stickers – each the size of a carriage – are being applied to the side of a Tilt Train. And you think covering school books is a challenge! If it helps, they too struggle with bubbles and creases!
Soon Paul Scurrah and I are in the CEO’s 15th floor Ann Street office being briefed on the Sunlander-14 project. By 2014, the Cairns Tilt Train will have business seats (airlinestyle flat-beds) and first class cabins (with double beds and en-suites). The corridor windows in these first class cabins will switch from clear to frosted with the touch of a button. Assurances are still being sought that in the event of a power failure, windows will not revert to clear and expose couples “trying to join the metre-high club”. I’m starting to get a sense of the sheer size of Paul Scurrah’s job and the range of issues a CEO has to be across.
Next, a briefing about new measures to prevent level crossing injuries. There’s been a 10 per cent increase in pedestrian nearmisses. New pedestrian gates will be rolled out at key stations, starting with Geebung. Innovative ways of preventing vehicle incidents will be trialled, including runwaystyle lighting in the road and “pinball-machine flippers” instead of traditional boom gates which are “designed to stop horses not cars”.
Channel Nine has been given an exclusive story about anti-rock-throwing fences being installed on the Gold Coast. Paul Scurrah and his media advisers discuss the message they want to get across, that there hasn’t been a death yet but the next rock thrown could be the one. We head to Central Station for the interview.
At Central, I meet two of the hardest working people I’ve ever seen. Sitting in a small room, side by side, with a microphone each and several CCTV screens in front of them, they make all the platform announcements for Central, Roma Street and Fortitude Valley stations! I notice several massive ceiling fans above the platforms. They’re brand new and ready for summer. Paul Scurrah jokes he hopes the hotel above doesn’t take off when they’re turned on.
We catch a train to Roma Street, where I’m shown security footage being analysed and compiled for the police and courts. A former forensics officer, now with Queensland Rail, describes how tough it is watching fatalities over and over from several camera angles. When a recording has sound, it’s worse. He says you have to tell yourself the death has already occurred and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
Finally, over lunch, I meet the man behind @QueenslandRail on Twitter. No wonder Nathan Scholz is invited to address conferences on how companies can embrace social media. No-one does Twitter better. He is responsive, informative and personal. Indeed, that night, whilst I’m flicking through photos and showing my 11-year-old son Jack my Queensland Rail name-tag, it’s a tweet from @QueenslandRail that provides the perfect end to my day: “Spencer Howson, it was our pleasure to help you fulfill your childhood dream”.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Ekka, Big Pineapple and helping tourists - Bmag August 9th 2011
Calls to move Ekka
August in Brisbane means one thing – the Royal Queensland Show or Ekka. But every year there are calls to move the Ekka to October. The arguments go something like this... At the moment, the show circuit ends in September (Noosa and Gold Coast). Instead, the circuit should build towards a big finalé in Brisbane. Secondly, there are no public holidays in the months leading up to Christmas. NSW, South Australia and the ACT have Labour Day in October. Victoria has Melbourne Cup Day. Western Australia celebrates the Queen’s Birthday in November. In Queensland, we have nothing. The third and most obvious reason for moving the Ekka is that Brisbane’s peak flu season (the middle weeks of August, according to the Australian Medical Association) coincides with our annual exposure to the Ekka masses.
But really, can you imagine the Ekka in October? By then, says Bureau of Meteorology forecaster Tony Auden, the westerlies have gone and been replaced by “northeast storm days and southeast shower days”. In other words, we would miss out on all these beautiful fine sunny days. Sure, it wouldn’t be so bitterly cold sitting in the stands at night, but to borrow from the movie The Castle, you would change the whole “vibe” of the Ekka. The first Brisbane Exhibition opened on 22 August 1876. This year’s runs from the 11 to 20 August. Should it be moved to October? What do you think? Email me at the address at right.
Can the Big P be saved?
Late last month, a television newsreader caught my attention with the headline: “An Australian tourist icon has been named a terrorist threat”. Here’s how much of a parochial Queenslander I am: I automatically thought she was talking about the Big Pineapple! She wasn’t. She was talking about the Sydney Opera House but what does it say about me that, of all our beloved Australian icons and attractions, my brain would go straight to the Big Pineapple? That may be because my late stepfather Ed Devenport was the architect who designed it back in 1971. But more than that, it’s because going up the pineapple, riding the nut-mobile and enjoying one of those famous ice-cream sundaes, are among my first and favourite memories of Queensland in the late ’70s.
Kerry Brown, author of soon-to-be-released history of the Big Pineapple Our Sweetest Icon, also remembers the Big Pineapple in its heyday: “Every child would go home and plant a pineapple,” she writes. Sadly, as disappointed tourists discover for themselves every day, the Big Pineapple – which should be celebrating its 40th birthday on 15 August – went into receivership in 2009 and has been closed since October last year.
In Kerry Brown’s words, it’s in “a dreadful, tragic, deplorable state of disrepair”. So you can imagine Kerry’s joy, and mine, when it was recently announced that the property will soon have new owners. I’m told the as-yetunnamed investors also have fond childhood memories of the Big Pineapple. They want to reinvent agri-tourism for the 21st century. What a sweet 40th birthday present! But can they make it work?
Help for tourists
Last issue, I asked you what we can all do to make things smoother and more enjoyable for tourists visiting Brisbane. Wendy Davison, reading bmag whilst holidaying in Brisbane, emailed: “As bus travellers, we were unsure when to expect our stop. There was no map inside the bus, as is usual in other cities. It would be very easy to have signs indicating the next stop.”
Ron Nankervis wrote: “When I arrive back into Brisbane, I am amazed that tourists whose first language is not English struggle to fill out the Immigration Entry Card. If only this card was printed in various languages.”
Patty Beecham told me she and her husband were caught in soaking rain in Hong Kong and had tried for 45 minutes to hail a taxi “when someone came up to us and spoke English, asking us where we wanted to go. Thank goodness!” She says she’ll never drive past another tourist in Brisbane again without offering to help them.
August in Brisbane means one thing – the Royal Queensland Show or Ekka. But every year there are calls to move the Ekka to October. The arguments go something like this... At the moment, the show circuit ends in September (Noosa and Gold Coast). Instead, the circuit should build towards a big finalé in Brisbane. Secondly, there are no public holidays in the months leading up to Christmas. NSW, South Australia and the ACT have Labour Day in October. Victoria has Melbourne Cup Day. Western Australia celebrates the Queen’s Birthday in November. In Queensland, we have nothing. The third and most obvious reason for moving the Ekka is that Brisbane’s peak flu season (the middle weeks of August, according to the Australian Medical Association) coincides with our annual exposure to the Ekka masses.
But really, can you imagine the Ekka in October? By then, says Bureau of Meteorology forecaster Tony Auden, the westerlies have gone and been replaced by “northeast storm days and southeast shower days”. In other words, we would miss out on all these beautiful fine sunny days. Sure, it wouldn’t be so bitterly cold sitting in the stands at night, but to borrow from the movie The Castle, you would change the whole “vibe” of the Ekka. The first Brisbane Exhibition opened on 22 August 1876. This year’s runs from the 11 to 20 August. Should it be moved to October? What do you think? Email me at the address at right.
Can the Big P be saved?
Late last month, a television newsreader caught my attention with the headline: “An Australian tourist icon has been named a terrorist threat”. Here’s how much of a parochial Queenslander I am: I automatically thought she was talking about the Big Pineapple! She wasn’t. She was talking about the Sydney Opera House but what does it say about me that, of all our beloved Australian icons and attractions, my brain would go straight to the Big Pineapple? That may be because my late stepfather Ed Devenport was the architect who designed it back in 1971. But more than that, it’s because going up the pineapple, riding the nut-mobile and enjoying one of those famous ice-cream sundaes, are among my first and favourite memories of Queensland in the late ’70s.
Kerry Brown, author of soon-to-be-released history of the Big Pineapple Our Sweetest Icon, also remembers the Big Pineapple in its heyday: “Every child would go home and plant a pineapple,” she writes. Sadly, as disappointed tourists discover for themselves every day, the Big Pineapple – which should be celebrating its 40th birthday on 15 August – went into receivership in 2009 and has been closed since October last year.
In Kerry Brown’s words, it’s in “a dreadful, tragic, deplorable state of disrepair”. So you can imagine Kerry’s joy, and mine, when it was recently announced that the property will soon have new owners. I’m told the as-yetunnamed investors also have fond childhood memories of the Big Pineapple. They want to reinvent agri-tourism for the 21st century. What a sweet 40th birthday present! But can they make it work?
Help for tourists
Last issue, I asked you what we can all do to make things smoother and more enjoyable for tourists visiting Brisbane. Wendy Davison, reading bmag whilst holidaying in Brisbane, emailed: “As bus travellers, we were unsure when to expect our stop. There was no map inside the bus, as is usual in other cities. It would be very easy to have signs indicating the next stop.”
Ron Nankervis wrote: “When I arrive back into Brisbane, I am amazed that tourists whose first language is not English struggle to fill out the Immigration Entry Card. If only this card was printed in various languages.”
Patty Beecham told me she and her husband were caught in soaking rain in Hong Kong and had tried for 45 minutes to hail a taxi “when someone came up to us and spoke English, asking us where we wanted to go. Thank goodness!” She says she’ll never drive past another tourist in Brisbane again without offering to help them.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Bmag July 19th 2011 - Frustrations of a tourist
How do you prevent niggling little frustrations from getting under your skin? What’s your strategy?
A former ABC boss, Chris Wordsworth, once offered these words of wisdom: “Let the cr*p wash over you”. In other words, save your energy for the important things in life. Don’t sweat the small stuff.
Unfortunately, on our recent family holiday in Europe and the USA, several incidents caused me to waste energy being frustrated.
What most of these examples have in common is they occurred because we weren’t in familiar surroundings.
As I run through them, think about visitors spending time in our city and the little things we do that they might not instantly understand.
In New York, I learned that you can’t take a bottle of water into the Museum of Modern Art. I offered to drink the water so I could later reuse the empty bottle. No, insisted the security guard. Even empty bottles were banned!
I’ve since learned that a controversial art work was damaged by a protestor throwing chemicals from a water bottle.
Later that day, leaving a coffee shop, I handed my empty paper cup to the cashier and asked if he would put it in the large bin behind him. “No”, was the curt reply. “The trash is over there”. As I walked off, he laughed with the next customer: “Obviously not from the U.S.”
A New Yorker friend of mine later explained that my mistake had been to expect “courtesy and common sense”.
For Independence Day, the 4th of July, I took the family on a Hudson River fireworks cruise. When we boarded the boat the first thing we saw were dozens of plastic fold-up chairs stacked on both sides of the deck.
As we started to unfold and set out the chairs, security staff – dressed in those clichéd black tee-shirts with the word SECURITY in bold white capital letters – informed us they were not to be used and we had to stand up for three hours.
After a near riot, with one woman almost physically dragged off a chair by a security officer, they backed down. It probably helped that several other passengers had started filming. For the life of me, I still can’t work out why the heavy-handedness. There was no shortage of chairs or space.
Still in New York, when I left $100 of my wife’s shopping in the back of a cab, we were told minutes later by our hotel concierge there was no point even ringing the cab company. “This is New York,” he said. “The next passenger will have just picked up the bag”.
Perhaps I’m looking at this through maroon-coloured glasses, but I’m pretty sure that if that had happened in Brisbane, I could have tracked down the cab and its back-seat contents in no time.
It wasn’t just New York that tested our patience. After missing a connecting flight in Frankfurt, our airline gave us a hotel room for the night. Unfortunately, the taxi took us a similar sounding hotel in another city!
When we eventually arrived at our lodgings, armed with $90 from the airline for dinner, the hotel wouldn’t let us spend the credit on its a la carte menu.
To order from the menu, we would have to use our own money. So, the smorgasbord it was. I can tell you there is no way we ate $90 worth of cold meat, soup and salad that night!
Okay okay, I know I’m starting to sound like Eric Idle complaining about the tea in Monty Python’s Travel Agent sketch: “They don’t make it properly do they? Not like at home!”
My point is this: When tourists spend time in Brisbane, what are the little things we do – probably unthinkingly – that cause unnecessary frustration? Let me know if you have examples and suggested improvements.
Let’s face it, no matter how fantastic a time you have on holidays, you always remember – and tell other people about – the things that go wrong. That’s just human nature.
Whether it’s spontaneously offering to take a group photo, asking if someone needs directions, or just saying “G’day” in a shopping centre elevator, we can all play a part in making sure tourists love our city as much as well do.
A former ABC boss, Chris Wordsworth, once offered these words of wisdom: “Let the cr*p wash over you”. In other words, save your energy for the important things in life. Don’t sweat the small stuff.
Unfortunately, on our recent family holiday in Europe and the USA, several incidents caused me to waste energy being frustrated.
What most of these examples have in common is they occurred because we weren’t in familiar surroundings.
As I run through them, think about visitors spending time in our city and the little things we do that they might not instantly understand.
In New York, I learned that you can’t take a bottle of water into the Museum of Modern Art. I offered to drink the water so I could later reuse the empty bottle. No, insisted the security guard. Even empty bottles were banned!
I’ve since learned that a controversial art work was damaged by a protestor throwing chemicals from a water bottle.
Later that day, leaving a coffee shop, I handed my empty paper cup to the cashier and asked if he would put it in the large bin behind him. “No”, was the curt reply. “The trash is over there”. As I walked off, he laughed with the next customer: “Obviously not from the U.S.”
A New Yorker friend of mine later explained that my mistake had been to expect “courtesy and common sense”.
For Independence Day, the 4th of July, I took the family on a Hudson River fireworks cruise. When we boarded the boat the first thing we saw were dozens of plastic fold-up chairs stacked on both sides of the deck.
As we started to unfold and set out the chairs, security staff – dressed in those clichéd black tee-shirts with the word SECURITY in bold white capital letters – informed us they were not to be used and we had to stand up for three hours.
After a near riot, with one woman almost physically dragged off a chair by a security officer, they backed down. It probably helped that several other passengers had started filming. For the life of me, I still can’t work out why the heavy-handedness. There was no shortage of chairs or space.
Still in New York, when I left $100 of my wife’s shopping in the back of a cab, we were told minutes later by our hotel concierge there was no point even ringing the cab company. “This is New York,” he said. “The next passenger will have just picked up the bag”.
Perhaps I’m looking at this through maroon-coloured glasses, but I’m pretty sure that if that had happened in Brisbane, I could have tracked down the cab and its back-seat contents in no time.
It wasn’t just New York that tested our patience. After missing a connecting flight in Frankfurt, our airline gave us a hotel room for the night. Unfortunately, the taxi took us a similar sounding hotel in another city!
When we eventually arrived at our lodgings, armed with $90 from the airline for dinner, the hotel wouldn’t let us spend the credit on its a la carte menu.
To order from the menu, we would have to use our own money. So, the smorgasbord it was. I can tell you there is no way we ate $90 worth of cold meat, soup and salad that night!
Okay okay, I know I’m starting to sound like Eric Idle complaining about the tea in Monty Python’s Travel Agent sketch: “They don’t make it properly do they? Not like at home!”
My point is this: When tourists spend time in Brisbane, what are the little things we do – probably unthinkingly – that cause unnecessary frustration? Let me know if you have examples and suggested improvements.
Let’s face it, no matter how fantastic a time you have on holidays, you always remember – and tell other people about – the things that go wrong. That’s just human nature.
Whether it’s spontaneously offering to take a group photo, asking if someone needs directions, or just saying “G’day” in a shopping centre elevator, we can all play a part in making sure tourists love our city as much as well do.
Panic present buying
It’s confession time. I bought a panic present.
I was sitting at JFK airport in New York, about to fly home to Brisbane after four weeks in the UK, France and the USA, when I started to remember people for whom I hadn’t bought anything.
One last look at the airport souvenir stand and $85 later, I had a bag full of random goodies!
I was chuffed with the I-heart-New York pewter cow key-ring for 612 listener and farmer “Lord” Julian of Boonah.
But I really don’t know how my radio producer Anne Debert will react to her present, which I shall reveal to you shortly and give to her tomorrow.
The business of gifts from overseas holidays is tricky. Do you buy for someone only if and when you see something perfectly suited to them? Or do you make a list beforehand and make sure everyone on the list gets something?
The range of place-branded items is astounding. Oddly, I didn’t see spoons or thimbles anywhere but there were coffee cups of all shapes and sizes, fridge magnets, cushions, baseballs, beach-bags, photo frames, coasters, pens, shot-glasses and all manner of clothing.
Snow domes remain a constant – just ask Liam Renton from Brisbane’s community radio station 96-Five who has one of Australia’s biggest collections.
There are desk models of iconic buildings such as the White House, Buckingham Palace and the Eiffel Tower.
You can even take home a miniature set of a city’s public transport or emergency vehicles.
To get an idea, pop into one of Brisbane’s souvenir shops next time you’re in the city or at the airport. They have much more than just clip-on koalas these days. You can probably even buy a mini City-Cycle play set by now. If not, someone can have that idea for free.
One thing you can get at Brisbane souvenir shops is kangaroo jerky.
Before we went overseas, I asked my 612 Breakfast listeners for gifts ideas from Brisbane. Someone suggested roo jerky so I bought some and we taste-tested it live on air.
I have to say that it might be a fun novelty gift, to be consumed with alcohol and washed down with lots of laughter, but roo jerky is not the sort of thing anyone should have to eat on the radio at 5.20am! The smell alone!
Still, I gave a packet to BBC Radio 2 Breakfast presenter Chris Evans after I’d spent some time with him in London. Sensibly, Chris said he would take it home and try it later. I haven’t heard how – or indeed if – it went down!
I suppose for the most part, souvenirs are bought for oneself as a reminder of places visited.
On this recent trip, I bought five tee-shirts including one from London’s “Dr Who Experience” and another from the Calvisson Barrel Organ Festival, as well as New York and Washington fridge magnets, a New York photo frame and theatre programmes from “Spiderman—Turn Off the Dark” and “Much Ado About Nothing” starring former Dr Who stars David Tennant and Catherine Tate. (I did tell you I was a Dr Who fan, didn’t I?!)
We’ll see how many of these survive the next spring clean.
On previous trips around Queensland, I’ve proudly returned with a small pottery sheep (from Cunnamulla), a scrap metal dog (Blackall) and a 750ml beer “tally” somehow stretched to about a metre (Central Highlands).
We still have the sheep and dog but the beer bottle – which I always regarded as artistic genius – has gone to a better place!
Which brings me to the panic present I bought at JFK for my radio producer Anne Debert.
No, let me withdraw that word. I didn’t panic. It made complete sense at the time! It’s only in the hours since that I’ve started to panic – about how she’ll react to such a random workmate gift!
You see, Anne’s husband Len is from St Louis, Missouri. And at JFK airport, sitting in the middle of all the fluffy toys marked “New York” was one bearing the name “Missouri”.
I rifled through the toys. There was no other “Missouri”. This was clearly a mistake and just as clearly, in my mind at least, it was meant to be bought for Anne.
So next time you call in to the breakfast show, ask Anne how she likes her very cute, bright green and purple, floppy-earned puppy-dog!
What’s the best and worst souvenir you’ve ever bought yourself or someone else? It’s confession time!
I was sitting at JFK airport in New York, about to fly home to Brisbane after four weeks in the UK, France and the USA, when I started to remember people for whom I hadn’t bought anything.
One last look at the airport souvenir stand and $85 later, I had a bag full of random goodies!
I was chuffed with the I-heart-New York pewter cow key-ring for 612 listener and farmer “Lord” Julian of Boonah.
But I really don’t know how my radio producer Anne Debert will react to her present, which I shall reveal to you shortly and give to her tomorrow.
The business of gifts from overseas holidays is tricky. Do you buy for someone only if and when you see something perfectly suited to them? Or do you make a list beforehand and make sure everyone on the list gets something?
The range of place-branded items is astounding. Oddly, I didn’t see spoons or thimbles anywhere but there were coffee cups of all shapes and sizes, fridge magnets, cushions, baseballs, beach-bags, photo frames, coasters, pens, shot-glasses and all manner of clothing.
Snow domes remain a constant – just ask Liam Renton from Brisbane’s community radio station 96-Five who has one of Australia’s biggest collections.
There are desk models of iconic buildings such as the White House, Buckingham Palace and the Eiffel Tower.
You can even take home a miniature set of a city’s public transport or emergency vehicles.
To get an idea, pop into one of Brisbane’s souvenir shops next time you’re in the city or at the airport. They have much more than just clip-on koalas these days. You can probably even buy a mini City-Cycle play set by now. If not, someone can have that idea for free.
One thing you can get at Brisbane souvenir shops is kangaroo jerky.
Before we went overseas, I asked my 612 Breakfast listeners for gifts ideas from Brisbane. Someone suggested roo jerky so I bought some and we taste-tested it live on air.
I have to say that it might be a fun novelty gift, to be consumed with alcohol and washed down with lots of laughter, but roo jerky is not the sort of thing anyone should have to eat on the radio at 5.20am! The smell alone!
Still, I gave a packet to BBC Radio 2 Breakfast presenter Chris Evans after I’d spent some time with him in London. Sensibly, Chris said he would take it home and try it later. I haven’t heard how – or indeed if – it went down!
I suppose for the most part, souvenirs are bought for oneself as a reminder of places visited.
On this recent trip, I bought five tee-shirts including one from London’s “Dr Who Experience” and another from the Calvisson Barrel Organ Festival, as well as New York and Washington fridge magnets, a New York photo frame and theatre programmes from “Spiderman—Turn Off the Dark” and “Much Ado About Nothing” starring former Dr Who stars David Tennant and Catherine Tate. (I did tell you I was a Dr Who fan, didn’t I?!)
We’ll see how many of these survive the next spring clean.
On previous trips around Queensland, I’ve proudly returned with a small pottery sheep (from Cunnamulla), a scrap metal dog (Blackall) and a 750ml beer “tally” somehow stretched to about a metre (Central Highlands).
We still have the sheep and dog but the beer bottle – which I always regarded as artistic genius – has gone to a better place!
Which brings me to the panic present I bought at JFK for my radio producer Anne Debert.
No, let me withdraw that word. I didn’t panic. It made complete sense at the time! It’s only in the hours since that I’ve started to panic – about how she’ll react to such a random workmate gift!
You see, Anne’s husband Len is from St Louis, Missouri. And at JFK airport, sitting in the middle of all the fluffy toys marked “New York” was one bearing the name “Missouri”.
I rifled through the toys. There was no other “Missouri”. This was clearly a mistake and just as clearly, in my mind at least, it was meant to be bought for Anne.
So next time you call in to the breakfast show, ask Anne how she likes her very cute, bright green and purple, floppy-earned puppy-dog!
What’s the best and worst souvenir you’ve ever bought yourself or someone else? It’s confession time!
Monday, July 4, 2011
Bmag July 5th 2011 - South of France
I’ve often wondered what it’s like to be a wine and olive-fed writer based in some exotic location like Morocco or Italy or France. So, I’ve come to the small French village of Calvisson, population 3000, just to the south-west of Nimes and 20 minutes drive north of the Mediterranean Sea, to find out.
In truth, the Howsons are here to stay with my mum and step-dad, who have recently retired and moved from Brisbane. The village they have chosen is hundreds of years old and well off the beaten track. There’s not much English spoken but Mum and John studied French for five years before they came and the locals can tell. Try some French on them and you will be rewarded with a little English and somehow you manage to connect.
It’s 11am and I’m sitting in a secondfloor bedroom window with a notepad and coffee. The stone walls of this fourteenth century terraced house are so thick I have plenty of space in the window to plonk myself down and write. It’s 32 degrees. The sky is blue and without cloud. The sun is hot but a breeze flows up the street and it’s very relaxing just watching people walk past. Look, it’s the postcard image of a man carrying two baguettes! The streets in Calvisson are so narrow I could almost hold hands with someone across the road. There’s a musty stone informed smell everywhere but somehow that adds to the romance.
By 1pm I’m sitting outside the bar in the main square. With shops closed from midday until 3pm, this is where locals are drawn. A round of five drinks costs me just $10. I choose a shiraz from the local winery. Light, but perfectly refreshing on this warm summer’s day. The bar is such a focal point that whenever you go past you look to see who’s there. I might not have met them but I already recognise the regulars! You instantly take a liking to the barman, Roget, who’s dressed in white and has the sort of well-worn face you just want to photograph. His eyes smile and both his nose and bushy moustache are pronounced. Almost cartoon-like. I suspect Roget likes a drink himself.
Now it’s 3pm and I’m on the beach at nearby Aigues-Mortes. It won’t be dark until 10pm, quite the novelty for someone from Brisbane! I’m on a sunlounger, under an umbrella, with a waiter offering me a drink. This time, I opt for a juice d’orange.
At 5pm I’m in a café in Nimes just metres from a 2000-year-old Roman amphitheatre. Christians and lions once “met” inside these walls. The history is breathtaking. I down a pint of lager. On the way back to Calvisson, I pick up a couple of baguettes (or as we would say, “French sticks”). These are consumed with a dozen cheeses, sensational rosemary-dipped olives and a bottle of wine – this time a merlot – again from the local winery.
It’s 8.30pm and we’re at a street party thrown by the “high quarter” of the village. It was still light as we walked the 300 metres to a covered market square where 100 or so locals are eating and drinking at three long rows of trestle tables. The Howsons don’t speak any French but, in no time, Nikki and I are in a Conga line. And leading the celebrations, dancing next to the DJ on a stage too small for the two of them, is the barman Roget! He is the life of this party and of the village!
It’s 11pm and this time I’m writing at the dining table in mum’s kitchen. Again, glass of wine in hand while Nikki contemplates a gin and tonic to finish off the night. At this time of year, there’s something happening every day in Calvisson. Last night, it was a bonfire – with tapas and wine – to celebrate St John. Tomorrow, we’re invited to a luncheon and a dinner. That’s after we’ve been to the fresh produce market in the morning. Frankly, I don’t know how all these writers find the time to put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard). There are too many olives to eat. And is that another cork being opened? Sorry, must go…
In truth, the Howsons are here to stay with my mum and step-dad, who have recently retired and moved from Brisbane. The village they have chosen is hundreds of years old and well off the beaten track. There’s not much English spoken but Mum and John studied French for five years before they came and the locals can tell. Try some French on them and you will be rewarded with a little English and somehow you manage to connect.
It’s 11am and I’m sitting in a secondfloor bedroom window with a notepad and coffee. The stone walls of this fourteenth century terraced house are so thick I have plenty of space in the window to plonk myself down and write. It’s 32 degrees. The sky is blue and without cloud. The sun is hot but a breeze flows up the street and it’s very relaxing just watching people walk past. Look, it’s the postcard image of a man carrying two baguettes! The streets in Calvisson are so narrow I could almost hold hands with someone across the road. There’s a musty stone informed smell everywhere but somehow that adds to the romance.
By 1pm I’m sitting outside the bar in the main square. With shops closed from midday until 3pm, this is where locals are drawn. A round of five drinks costs me just $10. I choose a shiraz from the local winery. Light, but perfectly refreshing on this warm summer’s day. The bar is such a focal point that whenever you go past you look to see who’s there. I might not have met them but I already recognise the regulars! You instantly take a liking to the barman, Roget, who’s dressed in white and has the sort of well-worn face you just want to photograph. His eyes smile and both his nose and bushy moustache are pronounced. Almost cartoon-like. I suspect Roget likes a drink himself.
Now it’s 3pm and I’m on the beach at nearby Aigues-Mortes. It won’t be dark until 10pm, quite the novelty for someone from Brisbane! I’m on a sunlounger, under an umbrella, with a waiter offering me a drink. This time, I opt for a juice d’orange.
At 5pm I’m in a café in Nimes just metres from a 2000-year-old Roman amphitheatre. Christians and lions once “met” inside these walls. The history is breathtaking. I down a pint of lager. On the way back to Calvisson, I pick up a couple of baguettes (or as we would say, “French sticks”). These are consumed with a dozen cheeses, sensational rosemary-dipped olives and a bottle of wine – this time a merlot – again from the local winery.
It’s 8.30pm and we’re at a street party thrown by the “high quarter” of the village. It was still light as we walked the 300 metres to a covered market square where 100 or so locals are eating and drinking at three long rows of trestle tables. The Howsons don’t speak any French but, in no time, Nikki and I are in a Conga line. And leading the celebrations, dancing next to the DJ on a stage too small for the two of them, is the barman Roget! He is the life of this party and of the village!
It’s 11pm and this time I’m writing at the dining table in mum’s kitchen. Again, glass of wine in hand while Nikki contemplates a gin and tonic to finish off the night. At this time of year, there’s something happening every day in Calvisson. Last night, it was a bonfire – with tapas and wine – to celebrate St John. Tomorrow, we’re invited to a luncheon and a dinner. That’s after we’ve been to the fresh produce market in the morning. Frankly, I don’t know how all these writers find the time to put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard). There are too many olives to eat. And is that another cork being opened? Sorry, must go…
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