Sydney is a rare treat, and now it’s my home, I’m excited. It’s only 50 years older than Adelaide and Melbourne and yet it feels much more venerable. An ancient street design in its oldest part, think Benares and Babylon, a comparison underlined by the towering ziggurat like structures at either end of the bridge. […]Read More A Stroll Through Sunny Sydney.
Our beloved sister Colleen and her lovely husband Graeme live in a little oasis, Pompoota, out Mannum way. “Where” ? We hear you cry. “ Mannum,” we reply, and when you continue to stare blankly we helpfully add, “You know, out Murray Bridge way.” “Ahhh”, you respond, and settle back comfortably in your chair, confident […]Read More Pompoota
Adelaide, dear readers, the Queen of the South, the Athens of the Antipodes, the Paradise of Dissent. It was here that my ancestors toiled, span and weaved, punched and ducked, danced and drank, plowed and plunked, they squeezed accordions and strummed guitars, broke horses and ran bars, sat in Parliament and stood at sit-ins. Adelaide […]Read More Adelaide…The “Rad”.
Rushed snaps on the way out of Bali. Gee, I don’t know a lot about what I like but I DO know a lot about art. But, having said that I’ll leave it up to your sublime judgement our most sophisticated and aesthetic readers. Naive or just Naff ? Primitive or just painfully bad ?Read More Bad Bali Cats
Lovely vintage advertisements Thai style. A little Dab’ll do you. A somewhat androgenous chap. Perhaps a cross dresser receiving necktie advice from his wife ? A saucy nurse, who may or may not have a deal going with the local dentist, appears to be advocating Pepsi-Cola, the soda of choice for decadent pinko Westerners. Beautiful […]Read More Thai Ads
Lets get get one thing straight, we’re albino Bengalis not bang bang kokolees but man oh man what a show Bangkok is turning on for us. But before we settle down with a Chang Lager and Dum sim here is the great Betty Chung’s bang bang. OK, she’s not Thai but we’re all Asian in […]Read More Bang Bang
We’re very excited to be heading to the Kolkata International Photography Festival. En route, on Rash Bihari we meet this elegant lady and amicable priest. Bengalis love a great demo. But also stop to smell the flowers. A quick coffee. Then we plunge into the Museum, one of several campuses (or should it be campi […]Read More Kolkata International Photography Festival
The Indian Museum looms imperiously over the corner of Chowringhee and peers slightly scathingly down at the backpacker hangout, Sudder St. Haberdashers, book shops, chai stalls and leather workers line the footpath outside. Saris swirl with blinding colours. Smiles are all around, (though sometimes a tad scary and reddish with the paan-chewing) A row of […]Read More The Indian Museum-Part 1 (to be continued): Kolkata