Tuesday, January 25, 2011

No washing up in Adelaide.

Washing the Dishes
~ Christopher Morley

When we on simple rations sup
How easy is the washing up!
But heavy feeding complicates
The task by soiling many plates.

And though I grant that I have prayed
That we might find a serving-maid,
I'd scullion all my days I think,
To see Her smile across the sink!

I wash, she wipes. In water hot
I souse each pan and dish and pot;
While Taffy mutters, purrs, and begs,
And rubs himself against my legs.

The man who never in his life
Has washed the dishes with his wife
Or polished up the silver plate--
He still is largely celibate.

One warning: there is certain ware
That must be handled with all care:
The Lord Himself will give you up
If you should drop a willow cup!

No more lolling about in mornings reading tourist information and teen novels. I'm back in the land of washing up and stacking the dishwasher with full loads. Here is the view from our spiffy apartment in Adelaide looking up and down Poultney Street.  Minimal dishwashing required. Serviced apartments are our sort of camping! 

Herewith are some street scenes of Adelaide, capital of the Festival State.  I last visited here as a singleton more than 15 years ago assisting with the administration for an APEC conference held in the Convention Centre.  I stayed at the Intercontinental Hotel and have recollections of the city centre being very close, and accessible, to the Torrens River.  This time we barely acknowledged the river.  It doesn't appear to be a city that takes in its river location, as Sydney does the harbour or poor Brisbane it's fickle waterway.  We walked to the city from our apartment and strolled up Rundle Mall (gasp, smaller and less pretty than I remember too) and round the block back along North Terrace (shielding the children's eyes from the peep shows along Hindley Street).


There appears to be only one tram service - an odd but charming feature of the city centre.  However the train station is an architectural marvel - a little bit of Paris or Milan right there, off to the side, in Adelaide.  By this time the children were moaning about the heat and the distance; legs were tired and drinks were craved. 

So our experience of the premiere thoroughfare of Adelaide
was like a footrace... or a Survivor challenge.  Still better than washing up the dishes in the regular routine back home though.

Looking up North Terrace outside Government House.

Waiting for the free city circle bus outside the divine Art Gallery of South Australia which we sped through like maniacs.  The security guards must have wondered.  Sorry Adelaide.

Walking back 'home' via the markets and Chinatown. 
They didn't want to eat Asian food for lunch either! Another fiasco.  Who said travelling with children was fun?!  Actually, the food didn't look that appealing.  I could see their point. A bit too food court-ish and quite grotty after the lunchtime worker's traffic had been through.  We should have eaten in the markets and dined on familiar fare you can eat with a fork.  (Our Anglo roots show us up terribly when it comes to food. Meat and three vege and some sticky buns will do us. ) A coffee at Lucia's wouldn't have gone astray at this point. 
So that was it.  Adelaide CBD in half a day.


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