Saturday, 25 October 2008
Lessons in life and coffee at Pellegrini's
The former was more relaxed, the latter perhaps bordering on pretentious but with fabulous views overlooking the Parliament building and a very exclusive atmosphere (and wine list, you could order a bottle of plonk for a reassuring $600. Needless to say I didn’t). I did, however, try some very nice Aussie wines – the nicest one actually served in the first place I went to, the less salubrious of the two rooftop joints.
Earlier in the day I had walked past an Italian espresso bar called Pellegrini’s (pictured below). It caught my eye for many reasons so I earmarked the place for a visit later in the day. The way to describe it is that this place was the perfect antidote to the Starbucks generation of coffee bar chains which have mushroomed all over Melbourne. Pellegrini's oozed individuality and old fashioned charm.
I didn’t expect Pellegrini’s to be open when I was walking home from the Supper Club, jetlagged and exhausted with the heat, around 10 pm. Cafes generally seem to close around 5 or 6 pm in Melbourne, but not Pellegrini’s.
I stepped in, and it felt like I travelled back in time and found myself on the scene of a Federico Fellini film. Not the least because the owner of the place, a gregarious Italian gentleman called Sisto, greeted me with a beaming smile and called me “la bella”. Take a seat here, bella, now what would you like? Espresso, here, is that good for you? Do you like it shorter or taller? A little bit of gelato, there you are, lemon and vanilla. Home made. Try it!
I popped in for a quick espresso on the way home, and ended up being served espresso, gelato, lemonade and two pasta dishes before Sisto offered to drop me off at the hostel at closing time (midnight). I refused the lift, and insisted on walking home to get some fresh air.
In the kitchen of his espresso bar, when I was tucking into some ravioli and pasta marinare, Sisto declared that “If I was 30 years younger, I would ask you to marry me tomorrow”. Awh.
Sisto introduced me to Pellegrini’s “resident artist”, a Kiwi lady called Louise. Louise had spent the past two months in Melbourne finishing her book. She also sings, plays the guitar and writes poetry, mainly in Pellegrini’s when she in Melbourne.
The trouble with being treated like this is payment. I asked Louise for advice, as Sisto would clearly refuse any offer of money. I slipped $20 onto the tip tray which was spotted by one of the staff. Rosie, the vigilant Italian lady, at the end of the night, took out my $20 note and handed it back to me, saying it was too much. “If you give me $5”, she said, “I’ll accept it”. I gave her $10. She handed me a fiver back. Did you ever have to do reverse haggling? Bizarre.
In the course of the week, I went back to Pellegrini’s almost every day. In the kitchen, Sisto taught me everything I need to know about the art of coffee, and cooking pasta “the proper way”.
Coffee is not just a drink, it’s nourishment for the soul. The way they serve it in Pellegrini’s, I have to agree.
Saturday, 18 October 2008
You'll be allright for as long as you're not in rubber thongs
It was a promising start for the journey, despite my initial fears that 60 minutes between arrival at the infamous Terminal 5 and departure towards Melbourne (via Hong Kong) from Terminal 4 at Heathrow was cutting it a tad fine. The transfer guide in the seat pocket onboard the BA flight Manchester-Heathrow advised passengers to allow 120 minutes to transfer between T5 and T4. An hour would have just about done it, but as it happened, the Qantas flight to
This second leg of the journey was gruesome. Mercifully, I had a window seat and the two seats next to me were occupied by a very nice Dutch couple in their 50’s, no screaming children anywhere near.
The problems started some time after the main meal: “greek beef” with very suspicious mini bottle of red wine with a long list of additives. I want to know why wine always tastes shocking during flights, is it just the quality of the wine (sub-standard) or is there something about serving wine at that altitude/atmosphere that is best avoided? After the food was served, coffees drunk and everyone snug in their seats somewhere over
Up until that point I hadn’t familiarised with the in-flight entertainment kit, I had been too busy reading “Le Dossier” (or how to survive the English) and the Rough Guide to
My legs were aching, I hadn’t had a chance to go for a walk along the corridor, and now I really wanted to but the nice Dutch couple next to me were in slumber land - I couldn’t bring myself to disturb them.
By the time the lights were switched on again, breakfast about to be served, I was stiff, tired, achy and just about to fall asleep.
Breakfast, my friends, was an extraordinary affair, not in any positive sense. “Baked egg” with some unidentifiable objects which were supposedly imitating sausages, a rubbery piece of bacon all sitting in a pool of what can only be described as brine. My analysis is that the whole affair came from a tin. The Dutch couple next to me were grunting their approval and discussed the green matter that formed part of the “baked egg” experience. Yep, spinach, yum-yum, tuck in.
A refuel and a welcome stretch of legs in
On arrival in
Qantas pyjamas consisting of a t-shirt and boxer shorts; toothbrush; toothpaste; comb; shower gel; deodorant; body lotion; and disposable razor.
It is now Sunday morning and I am yet to be reunited with my luggage.All the free pyjamas in the world are not going to make up for this inconvenience. After four uses, the bristles are coming off the complimentary toothbrush.
It is not funny.
Although, sourcing a pair of shoes to allow myself to dine respectably Saturday evening, I enquired at a shoe stall at the famous Queen Victoria Market what sort of footwear one gets away with in these parts.
“For as long as you’re not wearing rubber thongs, you’ll be all right” she said.
OK, that was funny. I told the friendly assistant not to worry, that I had no intention of wearing rubber thongs for dinner.
For information, “rubber thongs” refer to flip flops of the Havaianas kind. For further information, Ozzie people do widely go about their business wearing rubber thongs in the city. I also spotted several pairs of naked feet in
Monday, 13 October 2008
Great stuff
You can make as much or as little as you like of the internet, but there is a burgeoning debate amongst the internet literati about its impact on society, for better or for worse.
See for yourself, I'm going to rip Paul Canning's handiwork here, but I'm sure he won't mind as in keeping with good academic practice, credit belongs to those who deserve it... Canning quotes the Technology Liberation Front as the original source, which appears to be accurate if you care to follow the link.
The typology below summarises the main advocates within the "optimist" and "pessimist" camps as regards the world wide web:
Adherents & Their Books / Writings
Internet Optimist | Internet Pessimists |
Yochai Benkler, The Wealth of Networks | Andrew Keen, The Cult of the Amateur |
Chris Anderson, The Long Tail and “Free!” | Lee Siegel, Against the Machine |
Clay Shirky, Here Comes Everybody | Nick Carr, The Big Switch |
Cass Sunstein, Infotopia | Cass Sunstein, Republic.com |
Don Tapscott, Wikinomics | Todd Gitlin, Media Unlimited |
Kevin Kelly & Wired mag in general | Alex Iskold, “The Danger of Free” |
Mike Masnick & TechDirt blog |
And here’s a rough sketch of the major beliefs or key themes that separate these two schools of thinking about the impact of the Internet on our culture and economy:
Beliefs / Themes
Internet Optimists | Internet Pessimists |
Culture / Social | |
Net is Participatory | Net is Polarizing |
Net yields Personalization | Net yields Fragmentation |
a “Global village” | Balkanization |
Heterogeneity / Diversity of Thought | Homogeneity / Close-mindedness |
Net breeds pro-democratic tendencies | Net breeds anti-democratic tendencies |
Tool of liberation & empowerment | Tool of frequent misuse & abuse |
| |
Economics / Business | |
Benefits of “free” (“Free” = future of media / business) | Costs of “free” (“Free” = end of media / business) |
Increasing importance of “Gift economy” | Continuing importance of property rights, profits, firms |
“Wiki” model = wisdom of crowds; power of collective intelligence | “Wiki” model = stupidity of crowds; errors of collective intelligence |
Mass collaboration | Individual effort |
You can make your own mind up about who you choose to believe. All I can say is that I never really believed in the polarisation of such debates, even though I love the above typology for it points out the fickleness of what is widely considered as "knowledge".
Remember, the pond you fish in determines the fish you catch.
Friday, 10 October 2008
I nearly got killed twice this morning
Until I reached Upper Brook Street, that is. Now, Upper Brook Street behind St Mary's hospital is hardly enjoyable at the best of times to cycle along, but this was shocking altogether.
There I faced horrid traffic, a continous line of cars inching forward as far as the eye can see, leaving a very narrow strip of road to pedal along and a very thick cloud of exhaust fumes to breath in. The traffic had ground to a halt, but as I and a handful of other fellow cyclists kept on going in between the kerb and the cars, a passenger decides to vacate a vehicle right in front of me and opens the door wide just as I'm passing. Thanks to my reflexes which were quicker than a greased lighting a collision was avoided. I don't quite know how I did it.
Phew.
I continue, peeved, reach a set of traffic lights (red, bummer). As the lights change, the car next to me (with Russian plates, I might add) decides he wants to go left really quickly before the other cars start moving (because he's in the wrong lane for turning and no, he's not even indicating). However, I am in a quick mood today and move forwards quite fast, too. Screeching of breaks, bike and car, and again by some miracle I didn't get mowed down.
At this juncture, I want to shout abuse at all the effin' stupid motorists spoiling my perfectly pleasant morning.
I hope they bring in the congestion charge soon.
Hit 'em hard I say, make them pay for their sins!