Review: Back home...

Subject: RE: Review: Back home...
From: George Papavgeris
Date: 17 Jan 05 - 05:35 AM

I'll be there, nutty

Subject: RE: Review: Back home...
From: nutty
Date: 16 Jan 05 - 03:12 PM

So glad that you and Vanessa are safely home. Now I can look forward to seeing you in 2 weeks at Helmsley.

Subject: Review: Back home...
From: George Papavgeris
Date: 16 Jan 05 - 12:46 PM

(not sure if this should be in BS - if so, please move it)

..yet not "home", somehow. I left bits of me all over East Australia. A large part is left in Canberra with my son, his wife and my grandson. Wonderful times, yet things still left unsaid. For someone who wears his heart on his sleeve so readily, I can be strangely reticent when it comes to doling out praise and visible love to those nearest to my heart. The fact is, I am dead proud of Martin; he married and emigrated 5 years ago at 18, worked his balls off at uni finishing with no score lower than "high distinction" on any subject, while at the same time putting together a home with his wife Becki, battling with homesickness to shed his "new chum-ness" and become an Aussie and eventually together raising Timmy, almost 3 years old now, into the loveliest little feller any grandad had the joy to cuddle and play with. And he was headhunted for his first teaching job, a plum one in the newest school in Canberra. Smug? Yes I am. But pride in my eyes barely made it to the tongue - not as much as it should have done.

And then there was the trip across to Batemans Bay and up the amazingly lush NSW coast to Nowra, returning via the Shoalhaven coast and the hair-raising Maquarie Pass. Two days of jaw-dropping sights all around, swimming in the Pacific rollers and eating the best fish and chips ever. In the middle of it, the highlight was visiting the plots in Nowra that Willet Burry (Vanessa's great-great-grandfather, a carpenter) once owned and foolishly disposed of to return to UK (why, Willet?); and visiting the house he built (Graham Lodge), now a historic building in Nowra. Yes, tears were shed and shivers were had at the thought that we were treading the same paths he once trod.

And more tears coming off the water taxi in Sydney's Circular Quay, seeing the water lapping the little bit of undeveloped shore next to the Opera House ("Is that what the first arrivals and the new chums stepped through on their way to build this country?"). And walking through the alleys in the Rocks. And also choking in the subtropical rainforest on Mount Glorious west of Brisbane (nature at its most awsome - if that was to be the last sight before I closed my eyes, it'd have been worth it).

And that wasn't all in terms of sights. What about the Queenslander houses, or the old federation terraces in Sydney with their filligree ironwork, the QVB building, the tour of the city on the monorail, the toe-rattling didgeridoo of the locals on Circular Quay, the sights of Brisbane from the CityCat, the walk on the riverside parks, the swim in the city centre beach (!!!), the drives in the bush. And the Canberra War Museum alone was worth ten times the three hours we spent there. And that's just the places…

As for the people and times, where do I start? OK, take it chronologically - Canberra: Billy Arnett at the Merry Muse with his ponytail aloft hanging from a helium baloon; little Timmy dancing in front of me to "Circles in the air"; getting post-gig jitters after Billy told me "that was a tough gig, you did well" when I hadn't noticed anything (it was noisy, but hell, 200 people on their Christmas do, it was par for the course and at least half the room was singing along anyway). Meeting Andy-from-St Albans there, and Amalina coming over for it, and Ruth Hazleton's smiling face. And the welcoming blokes I talked to in the break over a smoko. And Becki and Martin's admiration (they'd never seen me "perform" before, perhaps I'm less of an old fart now).

Sydney: Seeing Margaret Walters again - and her immaculate preparation (paper slips with choruses to "Empty Handed" and "Underdog" on every table); meeting John Warner, JennyO, Sandra…; the total attentiveness and participation of the 130-or-so crowd at Almost Acoustic that erased any jetlag (we'd only been 36 hours in Australia and had just driven up from Canberra); young Claire's and her Mum's praise and enquiries about other gigs in the coming days; the energy, musicality and sheer fun of the Suck and Wheeze Band... Then at Amalina's house session, meeting more lovely people (Margaret Bradford - if she sings like that when she has a cold, what is she like normally?), forming with John Warner the "John and George mutual admiration society" and harmonising together; hearing Anderson's Coast from John himself, and the Piper on the Hilltop, and Newell Highway from Margaret Walters…

Brisbane: Maree Robertson's company and dedication to our having a good time while there can never be repaid. Meeting up again with John and Nicole; the time we spent with John halving a bottle of Glenmorangie on the back veranda of the Queenslander while awaiting the next thump from the possum on the roof was very special to me. Meeting Nicole's brother and parents (I'd like to spend hours with her Dad some time, and Vanessa with her Mum - such lovely couple). Meeting Ann Bermingham (thanks for organising the concert Ann!), Mudcatters Hrothgar and Foolestroupe (thanks for the chat under the mango tree, Robin), Andrew (?) and his wife, tasting that Shiraz, listening again to Cloudstreet and singing once more together. And then my favourite "crowd" moment at the gig in the Yungaba building: Claire and her Mum (see Sydney above) were there with Claire's younger sister and Mum's brother, right at the front and they sang each and every chorus from the start. And during "Without you on Christmas Day" the four cuddled each other and cried; I felt like a priest conducting a memorial service (recent bereavement in the family? my guess).

Then back in Canberra, spending an evening with Ruth Hazleton and Kate Burke and listening to them singing (lovely voices and arrangements); and listening to the live recording (and being presented with a copy of it) of Andy Irvine, Nancy Kerr (what fiddle, what voice), James Fagan, Kate and Ruth singing "Empty Handed" in Limerick.

And then all the other openhearted and welcoming Aussies: the taxi drivers, the shopkeepers, the friends of friends...

You could say we had a brilliant time - if you are given to understatement, that is. But now, back to cold and rainy England, bouncing off the walls of an empty house (the apple of my other eye, Aliki, being in Chile with her/my mate Dan till the end of March).

Oh, yes - we'll be back. Soon. Thank you all, from the heart