Just ticking along

Nothing to report really but we are planning on doing our cycle around the bay this Easter weekend, so should have some news when we get back.

Pop Goes The Question

Cassidy and I have become formally engaged. In a move befitting her independent nature Cassidy was the one who did the asking and I was the one who had the honour of accepting.

We went to Sydney last weekend to visit a friend of mine, Emma, and her husband, Damien. It was a brief visit. We were only in town for 36 hours or so and so we thought we should take in a few of the must-see sights including the Opera House. Our friends had a cooking class for 4 hours and so we were left to our own devices to walk through the city. We wandered down through the Botanic Gardens to the harbour and walked out along the peninsula of the park that lies opposite the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Opera House in front of it. Although overcast, it was a beautifully warm day and we lay about on the grass taking in the view. Because of some typical Melbourne-Sydney rivalry we had only ever heard negative things about Sydney from our Melbournian neighbours but the reports were very misleading for Sydney is far from the bland corporate ghost town that had been described.

Having oh-so-casually worked an apparently hypothetical "what would you say if I asked you to marry me?" question into a conversation 20 minutes earlier and received an encouraging reply, Cassidy took the plunge and asked me if I would marry her. Of course I didn't have to think twice.

Cass was appalled to learn that her unorthodox proposal was not as iconoclastic as she'd thought when she learned that there was a sexist loophole in proposal etiquette "allowing" a woman to propose to a man during a leap year. She has gone to great lengths to research this tradition and is at pains to point out that this custom is only applicable on the leap year day, i.e. February 29.

Damien took a photograph of us shortly after in front of the Opera House, so I guess this is officially our engagement picture.

We're thrilled to make official what we've both known for a long time, that we want to spend the rest of our lives together.

FAQ

But aren't you guys married already?
No, that's just Dave being an idiot. However we did toy with this idea over a year ago so you could be excused for experiencing a slight sensation of deja vu.

Did Cassidy get down on one knee to propose?
No she did not. We were standing on some precarious rocks at the water's edge so to have knelt down would have been an unnecessary extension of the risk she was already taking. She did stand on a rock slightly lower than mine though.

When are you getting married?
We haven't thought that far ahead yet. We're still just excited to be engaged.

Was a ring given?
Neither party received a ring but that will be remedied later.

Is Cassidy merely getting engaged because she is in silent competition with her brother?
No she is not. We are very much in love and she is just happy that Brendan is happy.

On Wood-Chopping (and Flying Pigs)

I was at the Royal Melbourne Show a couple of weeks back and had the opportunity to witness the Grand Final of the Australia Vs. New Zealand Woodchop. Apparently, woodchopping is a well respected sport in certain areas where forestry has traditionally contributed to the local economy. It is also a big deal in certain parts of Canada, the northern US and certain European countries. I must admit that it was the first I'd heard of it.

As you might imagine, wood-chopping basically involves a group of skilled contestants who compete to be the first to either chop or saw their way through a log or block of wood. There are lots of different variations on and permutations of this basic principle. Uninteresting as that may sound, it is actually very impressive to watch.

There are four main categories in a wood chopping contest:

First off, you have the two-handed saw where several two-member teams attempt to be the first to saw through a log of wood using a long pull saw.
A third guy stands off to the left and shouts encouragement and when the saw reaches a certain depth, rams a small wedge into the opening to keep the cut from closing up and jamming the saw. Many wood chopping events are handicap events, where the axemen start at different times, depending how fast they are expected to chop through the log. So, you have about eight of these teams lined up ready to saw. The announcer begins to count from one and the teams begin to saw when he reaches their respective number. At the wood chop stage some individuals were so good that they wouldn't begin chopping until the announcer had reached 29 and then go on to be the first to fell the log. The handicaps were not as severe at the two-handed saw event as the whole thing is over quite quickly. The winning team on this day sawed through the log in 17.6 seconds. It seems to be primarily a male-dominated sport although one husband and wife team placed admirably.

Standing Block appears to be the most common of the categories with new competitions beginning almost every 20minutes. This is where the axeman stands and swings at a log level with his shoulders. Again, 8 contestants are lined up each at their own log waiting for the announcer to reach their number. They pull back for the swing a second before their number so that just as they are given permission to start, their axe strikes the log for the first time.
Prior to the event the axemen take every precaution to ensure that they do not lose one valuable second. They chalk rough marks on the log to guide their blows and often also their handicap number. Their axe heads are sprayed with a lubricant to prevent sticking in those first three crucial blows.

The logs are are all of a uniform thickness and are mounted in metal vice-like stands. Nails are hammered into the top of the logs to prevent "slabbing" where an entire wedge of wood separates from the log right to the top, which can lead to disqualification.
Once the chopping starts, the whole thing is usually over within a minute. While there is undeniably a strong emphasis on brute strength the skill and precision with which the blows are made are invariably what distinguishes the winner. They attack one side of the log first. Striking the log at 45 angles, first from the bottom and then from the top, every second blow removes a huge wedge of wood amid a shower of splinters. When they reach the mid-point they turn around and proceed to attack the other side in a similar fashion until finally the top of the log comes toppling down.
It's quite a scary experience standing only 6 feet behind these guys when they're in full attack mode. One can't help but think that if one of them just lost his grip for an instant some poor spectator would be struck dead on the spot, but the organisers didn't seem too concerned so I guess it probably doesn't happen all that often. In fact, as far as dangerous events go, the standing block and the two-handed saw were probably the safest of the categories.
Underhand, where the log is horizontal, and the axeman stands on it, swinging the axe between his feet looks as criminally unsound an idea as it reads. The horizontal log is fixed in metal bracket on the ground and as with the standing block, nails are hammered into the ends to prevent "slabbing." With the underhand the axeman, prior to the competition beginning, must cut himself footholds into the top of the log so that he can stand astride it without losing his balance mid-blow. A further example of the axeman's skill is shown in this prep work as he quickly and efficiently whittles two perfectly flat footholds. One gets the feeling that if you gave these guys a sequoia and an axe they'd hand you fully functional viking ship a week later.
The principle is pretty much the same as the standing block. They work one side and then the other until finally the log collapses under them. Crucially though, this time they're chopping very close to their feet. I'm sure it works an entirely different set of muscles and proves a different strength and skill set, but as a uninitiated observer the proximity to the feet was what really concerned me.

However, once again nothing went wrong so I guess they know what they're up to. They also had a strong man variation on the underhand where the winner was the one who could chop through the log in the fewest number of blows within 2 minutes. The axe had to weigh less than 3kg and not be more than 180mm thick. After the first two contestants took 26 to break the log, one would have thought that the third would have been happy with his result of 23. However, he was visibly annoyed as he probably could have done it in 22 if his penultimate hit had been made with just a touch more force. The fourth guy (and reigning champion) didn't make the same mistake. He split his in 22 and took home the golden axe. I spotted the guy who came second after the awards ceremony scrunching up his 2nd place ribbon and throwing it in the bin. These guys take this stuff seriously.
Each of the axemen has a metal case in which he has at least four if not five axes. They have one which is used exclusively for banging nails into the log, another for whittling etc. Their chopping axes are polished to a high finish and are not used for anything else. I watched a guy who hit a nail during the strong man underhand step off the log and not bother finishing because the axe was now effectively useless.

If the underhand looked kind of dangerous then the final category, Tree Felling, looked outright demented. Tree felling is where the block to be cut is vertical, but on top of a 16ft pole, so the axeman must first position some planks (usually three) in narrow cuts made in the pole, climb and stand on the highest plank whilst chopping through the log. It breaks down like this:

A log similar to that used in the standing block is affixed to the top of a 16ft pole earlier in the day. Then, when the contestants are allowed to start they take their axe and make a cut in the wood about 4ft off the ground. Into this cut they then place the end of what looks like a steel capped ski. The axeman sticks his axe into the tree above him, climbs onto the ski with two more skis in his arms, puts them at his feet, grabs the axe and makes another cut another 4ft up. He then takes another ski, slots it in and climbs up again. After doing this three times he finds himself at the top of the pole with the standing block at shoulder height and begins chopping through it. Once he is halfway through, he climbs down taking the skis with him and repeats the whole process on the other side the tree so that he can now chop the log from the other side. Finally, the log comes crashing down.

Needless to say, the whole thing sounds like a pretty comprehensive collection of things I was always told NOT to do with an axe and it's mind-boggling to think that not only did none of the contestants wind up paralyzed or dismembered but in fact they all finished the task within 4 minutes.

Competitions in each of these categories were held separately but they also held combination relays culminating finally in a great three-part race which had one guy on standing block, one on underhand and another on tree felling. When one had finished his task the next guy could begin his. I didn't hear the final time for this three-parter but it couldn't have been more than 6 minutes or so.

So, that's about I'll I have to say on woodchopping. Now, for all those who waded through that on the promise of flying pigs:

Strictly speaking they weren't actually flying (there's actually no such thing as flying pigs) but rather (as Woody would would say) falling with style.

They were billed as racing and diving pigs and they did just that. In fact they are the only racing and diving pigs working in Australia today by all accounts. They raced around a small track twice jumping over hurdles on the second go. Finally two of them climbed up a metal walkway and jumped into a pool of water before clambering out to get

their reward.

All Cats Go To Heaven

Some sooner than others. Jazz died last night.
It all happened very suddenly. The previous night he had been walking around, sitting on the couch and eating and drinking as usual. Monday morning I saw him sitting in his basket and apart from patting him on the head, I didn't disturb him. When I came back to the apartment after college he was sitting in the hall. I picked him up and when I put him down again he went straight to a sitting position without putting his back feet on the floor. I didn't think too much of it at the time, guessing he was just being lazy.
Cass took me out for a birthday dinner last night and it wasn't til we got back around 9pm and found him lying down in the bathroom that we figured something was wrong. We tried to stand him up several times but he wouldn't move his back legs at all. The legs didn't appear broken or damaged but he was clearly paralysed in his hindquarters. He had been dragging himself from room to room. 10 minutes on Google suggested that he might have a condition called HCM aka Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy. It's a heart disorder in which the left wall of the heart grows and thickens. A serious symptom of this condition is paralysis in the lower back and rear limbs. The reason for this being a blood clot lodged in the lower part of the back. Paralysis can be a sign of a clinical emergency and is usually extremely painful.
The prognosis for this advanced condition was not promising. Cats were predicted to live for less than 6 months. Truly alarmed at this point, we put him in a carrier, jumped in a taxi and headed across town to a 24-hour Animal Emergency Hospital. They took him for examination and 40 minutes later came to tell us what we'd been dreading. It was pretty much exactly what we'd gleaned from the Internet. They clipped the nails on his hind legs right down to the blood vessels, but nothing bled. No blood had been getting to his lower back. Apparently the condition is hereditary and there is no way the shelter could have known. It was a case of just really bad luck. The doctor said that it was unusual for such a young cat to have gotten it but not unheard of. HCM can be treated to an extent if detected very early on with blood thinners but it is unlikely to be detected unless the vet is specifically looking for heart irregularities. Once a clot forms there is little one can do. Her advise was to put him down as the surgery involved had a very low success rate, was very painful and even if the clot could be removed, the condition would persist for the rest of his life. Jazz had started mewing also which he never did before so it seemed as though he was in a lot of pain.
She gave us a few minutes to think about it, but there really was no choice at all. We were able to say goodbye before they took him away. It was really hard to let him go when he still seemed so full of life. His eyes were as bright as ever and he was able to move his front legs. It was hard to believe he could be dying. If he had been older or had we had him for longer it wouldn't have seemed so unfair.

The whole thing has been very upsetting. We only had him for six weeks, but had already grown very fond of him. He was the perfect cat for us in every regard and I don't really feel like getting another one for sometime. It's definitely been the low-light of our time here so far.
Poor Jazz. We will miss him.

It's a boy!

So, Cass and I adopted a cat- a male long-hair called Jazz. We'd been talking about it for a while and decided to start researching the possibility seriously a couple of weeks ago. Although it does represent a 13 year or so commitment we're hoping that it'll bring us closer together and get our relationship through these dark times. We've looked extensively into what it takes to transport animals out of Australia into either Europe or the US and discovered that it's actually quite an easy undertaking. The fact that Australia has no rabies would seem to help. According to their site, transporting a cat into the US is as simple as presenting your animal at customs and if it doesn't appear sick then you're free to take it in without quarantine. All of the RSPCA's cats come microchipped, which is essential for taking them to Europe. We saw the microchip scan in action - they really do scan the cats like library books, with a portable wand.

We went out to the RSPCA shelter in Burwood last Sunday as a preliminary scouting trip. We had emailed our estate agent to get her to ask the landlord if we could have a cat in the apartment. She had yet to reply, so we weren't exactly sure where we stood. We thought it would be a good idea to check the place out first though to see what the set up was like and what we were going to need. It wasn't as depressing as you might expect, at least not at the cat end of things. They had 5-6 big metal cages about 6ftx6ft in size. Each pen had a small wooden hut inside in which were housed 4-5 cats. You were free to wander in and out of each pen in order to take a look at all the cats and to see how they reacted to you. Each of the cats have their own profile on their web-site designed to give you an idea of which would be best suited to your home. They kind of read like personal ads and are written to appeal to your "awh" instincts. A typical one read "My name may be Chuckles but it's really no laughing matter to be homeless! I'm a sweet girl who's very nervous about being in this strange, noisy place. I just want a new home with someone to love me. I'll need to be mainly indoors."

They were all very well behaved. The worst that could be said of any of them was that they were a bit shy which is pretty understandable given the surroundings. I guess the really wild ones were euthanized upon arrival. The status of each was described alternatively as stray or surrendered (those being the unwanted ones that were signed over to the shelter). When we told them that we wanted our adoptee to be an indoor-only cat they recommended that we get a surrendered one as it was more likely not to have had a taste of life outside. We went from pen to pen and got acquainted with them all. We narrowed it down to two cats, a tabby/white female that was shy but affectionate and a tabby/grey male that seemed affectionate but was so lazy that it was hard to tell for sure. Cass favoured the female, I the male.

On Monday, we received an email from the estate agent giving us the all-clear. We tossed a coin and came up with the female. I called and tried to put a hold on it but they wouldn't let us as they wanted to give it the best chance of being adopted. We went out there again today to discover that our two short-listed ones had been taken already. In fact almost the whole cast had changed since the previous week- a good sign for the cats I guess. One that hadn't however was the one in our apartment right now, and was one that had caught our eye the previous week as it really is a beautiful looking cat. We were convinced that it would have been the first to go as it is quite friendly and very pretty. However it is long-haired so requires more maintenance than most. What put us off on the first round was that it's personal ad seemed to indicated that it would require a garden to wander around, but after talking with one of the attendants we convinced ourselves that this one would adapt quite well to an indoors lifestyle. One of the women who work there said that he seems to be a very lazy cat, which suits us down to the ground. She said he seemed like the kind of cat that would like to curl up on the couch and might not have any inkling to go exploring the great outdoors.

After stocking up on all our cat paraphernalia (a plastic carrier, a litter tray, food bowls, scratching post, cat basket, blanket, litter, toys and food) we took it home on the tram and have since then being let it settle in. It's very well behaved and never so much as mewed on the way back. Cass placed it in the litter box when we got it home to show it where it was, but it seemed to misinterpret this as an identification of its sleeping basket and wouldn't come out for a while. It's since been introduced to the basket but seems to prefer the relative darkness of the kitchen at the moment. It probably just needs a little time to adjust. He seems very obedient - if we put it someplace, it settles down and looks at us, like "okay, I'm here, what do you want me to do next?"

Comedy; intentional and otherwise

This month is Melbourne's Comedy Festival. Every night of the month there are several kinds of stand-up shows or performances going on all over the city. On Sunday we went out to a bar in Brunswick with Ryan and Sara to see something called "Insert Name Here" which promised to be a screening of a bunch of comedy movie shorts all parodying mainstream movies. I'm a little vague on the content because reading the description on the web-site is as close as we got. When we got there, the inappropriately titled "Bar Open" was...closed. We hung around outside for about half an hour with the band who were supposed to be playing later that evening. Eventually someone arrived to open and explained that the guy who was supposed to open at 2pm that day had gotten drunk and forgot all about it. We may go back and try it again next week, phoning ahead this time.

Luckily we had plans for later so we went for dinner and a few drinks before heading back into the city. Every night of the festival there is what they call "The After Party" in the bar at the hotel Exeter. It's basically a two hour show where people who are performing elsewhere during the festival can come and do a 10-15 minute segment from their routine, presumably in the hopes of enticing spectators to come down and pay to see the rest of it at a later date. The show is free and the comics are basically given free drink and the opportunity to promote their show as an incentive. Since the more well established comics don't really need the additional advertisement, you're understandably left with a kind of bottom of the barrel set. It was a very much hit and miss mix, heavily weighted toward the miss. Several of the comics (term used loosely) died painfully, unable to coax more than sympathetic smiles from a cringing crowd. A couple looked on the verge of tears.

Still every now and then there was a decent act that provoked genuine laughter and we were able to get some free tickets for the full show of one of the best. We'll probably see him next week. Ardal O'Hanlon (forever Father Dougal Maguire) is also playing here for about a week. Since he's not really known here, tickets are a lot cheaper than in Ireland. We're going to go see him tomorrow.

In keeping with the comedy spirit of the month, we went to see a double feature of 50’s B movies at the Astor. One of them was Ed Wood Jr.’s Plan Nine from Outer Space and does indeed deserve its reputation as one of the worst films of all time. Apparently actor Bela Lugosi died before Wood had shot more than a handful of scenes with him, none with dialogue or any plot purpose. Undeterred, Wood went on to use the scenes and cast a replacement for the remainder. In a futile effort to conceal the fact that it’s not Bela Legosi, he had him hold his cloak over the lower half of his face for the duration of the movie.

It was a lot of fun though, with cheap sets that fell over when the cast brushed against them, horrendous acting and some unintentionally hilarious dialogue. Police Chief to Sergeant: “It’s murder alright (cue close-up) and SOMEBODY'S RESPONSIBLE!” Incidentally, whatever happened to the term “buster”? Back in the day that was a highly effective insult. Someone needs to bring it back.

Making Plan Nine look like Gone With The Wind, Robot Monster was the second movie in the double feature. Looking for all the world as though it had been shot on location in some one’s back garden it told the story of Ro-Man, (ostensibly a gorilla in a diving-helmet) who came from space to destroy the last 5 people on earth.

Made on a budget that can’t have been much more than $50 and a free gorilla suit, it had to resort to throwing in a lot of stock studio footage to up the excitement. Of course the problem with stock footage is that it may not be that relevant to your movie. But such practicalities obviously didn’t faze director Phil Tucker who clearly wasn’t one to pass up on some footage of rubber lizards wrestling and so, periodically we were treated to some truly bizarre scenes that appeared to have been stolen from the floor of the studio’s cutting room and inserted apropos nothing. In the end someone must have noticed that logic had exited a long time ago and a “Thank God it was all a dream”-ending was tacked on. To be fair it was the only way it would make any sense anymore.

Equally classic dialogue though. In an ill-judged attempt at Shakespearean pathos, Ro-Man, ordered to destroy the female earthling he loves, turns to the camera to exclaim, “I cannot, yet I must. How do you calculate that? At what point on the graph do must and cannot meet? Yet I must, but I cannot.” Beautiful.

Yesterday we went cycled the 30 miles out to Dandenong where Cassidy may be working if she gets the newspaper job that she's been after. The idea was to see how far the work-place is from the local train station (not too far, less than two miles). Today, however, the guy called and said that she'd be trying out in South Melbourne before they decide if they want to move her out there, so it may have been a little unnecessary, but he seemed impressed that she was showing such interest so it probably wasn't a complete waste. Anyway, it's good training for a cycle to Philip Island which we're planning for sometime next week.

Night of the Possums

Saturday night, on a tip from Aoife, we went down to Catani park (which is set back about 20 feet from St. Kilda Beach) on a possum hunt. We had heard that they only come out at dusk (about 8.30pm here at the moment) and we were a full hour early so we walked along the beach and watched one of Melbourne's magnificent sunsets. It's probably got a lot to do with the lack of rain, but most evenings the sky is truly spectacular for about a 20-25 minute window.

Every evening the entire length of the beach is peppered with people flying these huge kites which look capable of carrying their owners off into the ocean and indeed every now and then a particularly strong gust will drag one of them into the water, kicking and splashing. Looks like great fun and we'll probably try and rent one or something at a later date.

By 8.30, armed with an apple and a stale crumpet (thank God for small miracles, they sell crumpets in the supermarket next to us!) we settled ourselves in the park and waited for the possums. The first one we saw saw us too. Peering out of the top of a twenty foot palm tree it let out out a low threatening guttural growl that gave us a moment of pause. Despite looking like a cuddly obese squirrel he sounded like what I imagine a Tazmanian devil warming up would sound like.


We backed off for awhile and let him climb down and soon noticed that most of the trees were shedding at least one possum. One must have lost his footing as he came down like a coconut, but despite the thump picked himself up and waddled off. Kind of like cats but without their grace. Once on the ground and fully awake, they were a lot less edgy and would come right up to you to be fed, taking food right out of your hand. The strength of their eyesight is questionable. They appeared to be hearing the food hit the ground, only seeing it when they came close.

About half of the trees in the park have a strip of hard plastic sheeting wrapped around the circumference of the trunk about 16 feet or so above the ground. Ostensibly this is too keep the possum population down by denying them access to these trees, although quite what anyone would have against them is any one's guess. Still, one person's fat squirrel is another's climbing rat. Last week, Aoife met two old women who were spear-heading a movement to protect the present possum population (the PPPP?) and tried to recruit her to go with them to city hall and lodge their complaint against the measures being taken to keep them down.

We noticed also that in the case of many of the branded trees, someone had fixed a length of metal tubing, about 10" in diameter, half way around the trunk and a couple of feet below the plastic. I suspect that these may be counter measures launched by the PPPP to ensure that the possums have somewhere to sleep.

We checked them out on-line after and apparently they're the common Brushtail Possum. There were no warnings of diseases or anything so we went back the following night and this time used up four apples and a hunk of bread. Cute little things, but we held off from actually touching them in case they turned nasty.

Ok, for those of you not wholly gripped by all things possum, here are some other things that we've been doing. I started college today. It was mostly more orientation but, this time, of a more detailed and useful variety. We were also given our schedule for the year. For the most part we're in class from 10am to 2pm, Monday to Thursday. All other time, including Fridays is dubbed Prac time during which we are to use darkrooms, studio space, go location shooting or anything else that takes our fancy. So, I'll be able to get a part-time job and still leave plenty of time for "prac" without too much difficulty. There is also quite alot of hands-on training scheduled throughout the year, which promises to be very rewarding.

Cass is continuing to get temp work by the day, though consistently enough to fill out a week. She's vying for typing work (over envelope stuffing) as it'll pay better. We went bike shopping today as we have a half plan to go on a cycling trip this weekend. We were given the address of a second-hand dealer which we'll check out tomorrow.

Finally, we started the 1-2 week process of getting broadband in our apartment and when we do, we'll be fully Skype-able. When we do we'll stay in more personal contact. Maybe.

Moving along

Another day, another piece of Ikea furniture. Our hall is now cluttered with empty flat pack boxes and our kitchen drawer full of Allen keys. In addition to a bed we are now currently in possession of a coffee table (aka dining table - it's that kind of apartment), a chest of drawers, two footstools/sitting stools and a wardrobe (referred to locally as "robes"). Our apartment has a faux-blondwood Swedish furniture motif. We've spent the last few days shopping around, gathering and eventually assembling these pieces of furniture. As in New York, people here often leave pieces of furniture outside their houses when they're trying to get rid of them and they're considered fair game for anyone who wants them. Most are understandably horrible, but we managed to get a swivel chair for the study in this fashion. We're looking to get a sofa-bed on eBay at the moment and once we do, we'll be pretty comfortable.

The electricity and gas didn't come on until Tuesday so we were straddling both the hotel and our apartment for a couple of days. We finally moved out of the hotel on Thursday morning and not a day too soon as we were both covered in some kind of bed bug bites by then. They don't itch too much, but they take forever to heal and so we both look like a couple of lepers at the moment. Cass wants to post a photo to illustrate this but I've been trying to dissuade her. Dave's friend Aoife says that they're pretty common here. Something to do with the climate perhaps. Anyway, we're out now, thank God.

The fridge is now successfully installed as well so that last night we were able to have our first meal in our new apartment. With so many markets selling fresh produce, we're spoiled for choice here. The Prahan market has a stall that makes it's own pasta, so we've been trying that. Absolutely delicious.

Cass has got some temp work already and is currently out winning bread by stuffing envelopes. She worked 4 hours yesterday at a reception desk in the city. She's registered with a temp agency while continuing to apply for jobs in journalism.

Moving in

So... we now have our new place. We went down the following day to the estate agent and signed our 12-month lease. We have to notify them in writing anytime we want to do anything so much as put a screw into the wall, and they seem to suggest a no-pet clause, but it looks like it's going to be fine.

Apartments in Australia tend to come unfurnished, so we're in the process now of gathering together various pieces of furniture on a budget. We decided our number-one priorities should be a fridge and a bed. We made a journey out to our local IKEA in a city suburb called Richmond. After a long and exhausting ordeal, we came away with a queen-sized bed and mattress along with other odds and ends for the kitchen.

Putting it together was another challenge, but we now have a brand-spanking-new bed in our apartment, complete with reversible quilt covers. We've got a second-hand fridge on eBay and are currently negotiating with the seller to work out a way by which to get it delivered.

Electricity, gas, and water are all due to be turned on tomorrow by 7 pm, by which point we'll be free to move out of our hotel and into our new home. We picked up a couple of garden chairs in the Salvation Army for our balcony, where we intend to have many breakfasts.

In other news, we went to take in a free classical concert at the Sidney Myer Music Bowl, in the Botanic Gardens. It's an outdoor arena where they schedule different shows during the summer season. Thousands of people gathered for the last performance of the season, and although we arrived late, we were still able to get a spot off to the side.

Melbourne is in the middle of something of a drought at the moment. Although the temperatures are no longer in the high 30s (90s), it is still warm enough to walk around in shorts and t-shirts. Apparently they haven't had rain here for many many weeks, and all the locals are looking forward to cooler weather. For those of us who have just come from Ireland, though, we're enjoying it while it lasts.

I went to my orientation for international students at ICPP today. There were 10 of us, 8 of whom are doing my course. The layout of the college looks pretty good. They have two well-stocked darkrooms and three large studio areas. The orientation was mostly useless, covering basic stuff about living in Australia that we'd already picked up first-hand. The little he showed us of the college itself looked encouraging, though. Classes don't begin until this day week. Tomorrow we're taking a tour of the city to check out all the photography and camera stockists in the city.

Last night we went to a gem of a movie theatre called The Astor Theatre. Most nights of the week it shows a double bill of both old and new movies, classics and cult rubbish. Yesterday we caught a double bill of "A Streetcar Named Desire" and "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?" For a movie lover, it's a dream come true. It's an old-style movie house oozing with charm and Art Deco accutrements. Their ice cream is also pretty good.

We went into the city today and set up some home insurance. If a bush fire ravages our apartment in the next 48 hours, we will not be covered, but we're crossing our fingers. Other than that, we can now rest easy with all our camera equipment and laptops in tow.