Stewart Punt Groove

On the corner of Punt Road and Stewart Street in Richmond is an unremarkable two storey brick structure housing a few wholesale shops or offices. Its roof is about level with the platforms of Richmond Station. It has sometimes sported a big billboard. None of this much interests me but what does is a memory of mine from ages ago.

What does ages ago mean? I would say it was the 2000s but it could have even been the 1990s. This is the problem with sharing an old anecdote long after it happened. But now onto what I'm remembering.

There was a band rehearsing or even performing on that dingy rooftop. The brick walls are somewhat taller than the rooftop itself and so provide an effective railing for anyone standing there. There is also a shedlike structure on the roof which I'm guessing covers a staircase. And I recall there was a drummer, a bassist and a guitarist. Were they jamming or playing rehearsed compositions? I cannot say now but what they played sounded to me like funk-metal.

I could see all this because I was standing on the northernmost platform waiting for a train. It was daytime but what I was travelling to or from I cannot recall. I went all over town back then. But it is a fond recollection of a remarkable moment. I enjoyed the show but expect I still got on the next train once it arrived.

I'm now spending less time at Richmond Station because of the Metro Tunnel so I suppose this memory is now even more nostalgic than it was.

Encore

Was there ever anything you had to do that you turned into something you wanted to do anyway? This has often been true of me. Way back in the mid-90s my teacher-training included designing some exercise demonstrating the value of diversity. At that time I was also delving into the history of popular music. The result was an activity in which students would put together the most diverse and therefore best band of musicians.

The play-test of this activity had a luke-warm reception from a group of teens. The teacher-trainers felt similarly. Feedback however was vague - teacher-trainers only sometimes practiced the constructive criticism they advocate. I can guess at a few things however. One is simply that adolescents are difficult to engage from the position of having never met them. Another is that even then youngsters were less into bands than they were solo performers or dance groups. Also maybe I was mistaken in thinking musicians are remotely as engaging as the music they produce. As for the adults in the room? Possibly they felt that the diversity I was show-casing was too functional - mixed skill-sets offering consumers something enriching was possibly too pragmatic for my idealistic mentors. And then there was my production values.

All that is left is a set of basic sketches of an imaginary band called Encore. I came across them in my concertina file and decided to share them here. They contrast with my AI-generated Sub-Culture Kids Action Figure Selection. They are basic but I feel they convey what I imagine is a band I would enjoy following. Encore is indeed diverse in gender and background and with my vague grasp of fashion I also suggested a mix of musical influences within the group. But most importantly for me is a selection of instruments that will each sound distictly even once played together. I think I need to go to more gigs.

Parkmore

I stood entranced by the automated puppet show in a coin operated display cabinet. Hardly surprising since everything is a novelty to small children. Only a few metres away were automatic sliding doors and they fascinated me too. At the time they were triggered by pressure sensors in a rubber welcome mat but later that will have changed to some sort of light sensor over the entrance.

This is a likely anecdote from my childhood in the 70s. I say likely because memory can be both very sharp and very fuzzy that long ago. I definitely was into both the mechanisms described but did I feel that way on exactly the same day? It hardly matters. Parkmore was my first experience of an enclosed shopping centre and there is plenty I recall from its original incarnation.

I'm surprised to discover that it is pretty much the same age as me. As far as I'm concerned it has always been there. Of course I know that such shopping centres are very much a post-war phenomenon but it opening while I was a baby is news to me. Apparently John Farnham popped into perform at its inaugeration and Santa flew down in a hot air balloon! All I can tell you is what it was like to visit for family shopping.



The centre was small by our standards now but you could still get lost in it. This was in part due to its asterisk-like internal layout. Several hallways radiated from an octagonally domed central hub. Shorter ones connected to the entrances while longer ones accessed the major 'anchor' stores of the centre. You could easily get those hallways confused. Archives say that originally there were clever colour-coded rows of lights in the ceiling to tell you which path you were on but nobody ever told me that. I just made use of store recognition to navigate (and if lost you could always just return to the hub).

The hub itself was most distinctive for three shops in the form of free-standing stalls. One sold ice cream and milkshakes so I could hardly forget that. Another I do forget but let us say it was something eminently practical like a key cutter. The third however was more than a shop - it was free entertainment in the form of a glass blower applying flame to glass tubes till they became glowing toffee and then shaping them into parts of various trinkets for sale.

Today the hub or an area close to it would be a food court. Back then however there was only a smattering of food stalls. The largest was the Red Balloon carvery and cafe. It had big red spherical hanging lamp-shades which dimly lit its space and provided a contrast to the far brighter lighting of the rest of the centre. It exists even now but the last time I went there it had lost its distinctive atmosphere.

Parkmore got a major extension and redesign by the turn of the century and to me was difficult to recognize. Gone was any semblance of the asterisk. Its growth was very much warranted by the expansion of the outer south-eastern suburbs but by then I had moved away and barely ever went there. I confine my recollections then to its original smaller iteration.

Time spent there may well have involved Mum visiting Venture while Dad visited Clark Rubber (at the ends of separate hallways). Venture was more interesting to me (it had a toy department) but Mum took way longer to browse things. Clark Rubber was less interesting but Dad got things done so then we had more of a chance to get an ice cream and sit on one of those circular plastic benches centred around indoor plants. Life got easier once I could wander off alone. Lukas and I spent time in Toy World. Other stores I recall were Brashes Records, Copper Art and the ominously named Liquidator (a store similar to the Reject Shop). By the 80s I think the centre had a small extension (possibly involving more fresh produce stores). Suddenly there was an escalator but it only went to a rooftop carpark. A visit would always end with gathering at Coles New World for foodstuffs to take back to the car.

I turn now to the brick-walled outside of Parkmore. Some stores could be accessed from its encircling footpaths and there was also one useful space for the community. Back then the greater Dandenong area lacked its own cinema so in school holidays movies would be played in general purpose venues. Parkmore had its own auditorium. I'm pretty sure I saw one of those slapstick action movies from Italy starring Terrence Hill and Bud Spencer there. Beyond that the only kind of outdoors you could enjoy were car parks. Parkmore indeed! Okay across the road there has long been a large park complete with playground and pond but that is thanks to the local council rather than the shopping centre.

I had originally wanted this post to be a more wide-ranging essay about shopping centres as sites for both commercial and community activity but realized all I felt like was reminiscing. I could do that bigger entry another time. For now I will throw in my proposed list of criteria for shops that also facilitate face-to-face interactions. They are variety and competition, shopping and other activity, indoor and outdoor spaces, the familiar and the novel, access and comfort. And there was one last criteria called 'right sized' which interacts interestingly with the others. The bigger a centre is the more variety it has but the smaller it is the better ease of access it has. I could try testing the old Parkmore with these criteria but possibly you can do that yourself by drawing on what I have described here.

Grand Tour

In a few weeks I will be visiting Europe. Right now this announces that plan and then on my return it will become a record of my travels. If the past is any indication then it will be rambling.

All the biggest aspects of my plan are sorted but the small stuff I still need to get done is annoyingly fiddly. Posting this kernal of an entry now is possibly an act of procrastination. Expect more in a few weeks.

* * * * *

Now I'm back from my overseas holiday - a privilege even in this day-and-age (with only a minority of the global population crossing borders just for fun). This is my travelogue moreorless as a chronology.

Europe via Doha

I flew Qatar Airways from Melbourne late on a Friday. The service and quality are decent and I particularly enjoyed the variety of food served. Meals also provided me with rests from wearing my face mask (a voluntary discipline of mine) and indicated that time was passing. I also managed to concentrate on a few movies and programs.

We arrived at Doha Airport in the wee small hours and were free to wander about inside till our connecting flight. This makes sense - if all the security checks are happening at the ends of your journey then why bother with them in between? This cultivated oasis impressed me with its generous facilities and I was particularly taken with its relaxing indoor garden.

Venice

The shorter of my two flights eventually arrived at Marco Polo Airport in greater Venice on Saturday and I muddled my way onto a bus bound for Saint Lucia Station on the islands of classical Venice. What an amazing town of canals and laneways. The accumulated aromas of Italian cooking overpowered that of the briny lagoon. I had a few hours to just wander and even in that time discovered things like the La Maddalena Church with its Masonic look.

I met with the Intrepid Travel group I would be part of for a week. We were staying at the Hotel San Geremia and were soon allocated our rooms. Mine was on the top floor and so a holiday of stairways began. My window overlooked a terracotta tiled roof towards a patch of trees behind the hotel. That evening we reconvened for dinner at a restaurant chosen by our Italian guide. I ate some good gnocchi and we were entertained by an accordianist.

I became familiar with some of our mixed group of tourists from North America and Australasia. We were of diverse backgrounds. Existing connections between members included partner, sibling and recurring travel companion. I feel like I was poitioned exactly between the younger and older halves of the group. Everyone was engaging and chatty once they got a chance. Some of them stayed out longer but I needed my sleep so crashed after dinner.

Sunday started with me hunting for breakfast back at the station and then meeting with the group for a guided walk. We soon left the busy thoroughfares and found outselves in an old Jewish ghetto. We were made aware of curios like the local rainwater wells in so many of the squares. We criss-crossed the Grand Canal by both gondola and the Ponta di Rialto bridge (just so we could). Our key destination was the Piazza San Marco at which we could see the palace of the Doge. Our guided tour ended abruptly with a surprise lunch of crostini with various toppings in a cafe off a small square. This was covered by our tour fees but was one of many times I think some of us wished our guide would tell us a bit more in advance.

Following a nap I then went on my own unguided walk. I started by visiting the park behind us - Parco Savorgnan - one of the few large patches of public green space on these compact islands. Then I had pizza in a cafe on the Cannaregio Canal while a gigantic gull begged from the waters. Later as dusk was gathering I crossed the Ponte degli Scalzi close to the station and got lost in some laneways that refused to ever run along the canal side.

Eventually I discovered a church square - Campo San Giacomo - and enjoyed the atmosphere of locals just hanging while kids played ball. It was a balmy night with a festive vibe and one lane between squares was inhabited by a person disguised as shrubbery scaring passers-by. I never felt too lost as there were always others wandering about. I returned to my room to pack for travel the next day and pondered turning some of my experiences into a 'choose your own adventure'.

La Spezia And The Cinque Terre

I rode my first bullet train the Monday we left Venice for La Spezia. It is a small port city on the west coast of Italy. We barely saw the city proper and only stood in its railway square and a street for bustops. We got taxi vans to Hotel Nella in the hilly Foca neighbourhood overlooking the city. It was a charmingly kitch hotel and - still tired - I stayed while the others went for a boat ride in the bay. Did I miss some things? Sure. But I experienced other things and at my own pace. That evening I popped around the corner to the Hosteleria Bertolini for a lovely lone restaurant dinner.

On the Tuesday we got a bus and train on the Cinque Terra line. This was the purpose of us staying in La Spezia. The Cinque Terra is an array of five coastal villages connected by rail and hillside walking tracks. The five are Riomaggiore, Manarola, Corniglia, Varnazza and Monterosso. We took the train to Corniglia - the only village to lack coastal frontage and be solely on a hill. The station is close to the shore however and to access the village we took a taxing zigzag of steps. This was our test - now we had to each decide to continue with our intended walk or turn back. I had misgivings but decided to stick with it. We visited cafe loos then started on the track to Corniglia.

Only just walking between two villages was plenty for me. The views were stunning - yes - but I felt pushed to the limit. A hillside bar among the vineyards half-way along our track was most welcome. Eventually we walked down into Corniglia. These villages are lovely in the way they are traversed by steep back-switching lanes and stairs. From here we were free to do our own things. I stuck with an older couple and we decided to get the train to Monterosso - the village with the best beach.

In Monterosso I dipped my feet in the Mediterranean. The water was temperate on this mild day and it was lovely just to wade in. Soon we were met by most of the younger group members and next thing I knew I was making a sand castle with one. It was a pretty impressive effort once done but we never managed to fill its porous swimming pool.

Next we took the train to Rigiomaggiore for gelato and browsing gift shops. Finally we planned to visit Manarola for dinner but somehow this turned into simply taking photos from the cliffside path overlooking this most picturesque of villages. By the time we looked for restaurants they were too busy. A new plan worked however - we gathered even more of us together and went back to Foca to eat (once more for me) at Hosteleria Bertolini.

Hotel Nella was our first experience of complimentary continental breakfasts and I was a big fan of both this way of eating and the spacious breakfast room. But we were all set to move onto the next part of our tour that Wednesday and so once more took to transportation.

Florence

They talk so much of this city in the Monash History Department. Do subjects there and you will come away wishing to see it. And so finally I did. We walked several blocks from the station to a large and youth-oriented hostel - FlorencePlus. The narrow footpaths and busy roads combined with huge luggage rendered our oldest members rather pooped. We dumped our stuff in a spare room (it was too soon to check in) and then went on another guided walk.

My favourite way of seeing a magnificent monument is to spy a sliver of it at the end of a narrow pedestrian street and then have more of it exposed as I enter into its square or plaza. The Duomo or Cathedral of Florance was thus revealed to us and what a marvel it is. In some ways however I prefer the smaller and simpler Baptistry that attends it. Both however look warmly inviting in marked contrast to the more northerly tradition of church design that Australians are accustomed to.

Next we saw a bunch of nude statues arrayed under cover in the Loggia dei Lanzi. Finally we walked onto the Ponte Vecchio with its shops and a portion of the Vasari Corridor (a sky walkway made for the Medici) crowning the bridge. Here our guided tour ended and we did our own various things (some of the others wishing to practice haggling in the street markets).

I went back to the hostel to discover that I had to share a room for two nights with another member of the group. It was okay but I made myself scarce at times because he was taking online interviews while on holiday. I explored the venue to discover it had a laundry in the basement and made use of that. If only all hotels had such a thing there would be incentive for tourists to reduce the size of the wheeled luggage they lug about. The basement also had a diner and a sunken recreational courtyard, while the rooftop had an under-cover bar with views towards the Duomo. I enjoyed all this convenience but the elevators felt rather rickety.

On Thursday I had continental breakfast then retraced our steps of the guided tour but more slowly. I ate gelato while watching queues slowly move into the Duomo. I went across the Arno River and made my way to the Piazzale Michelangelo - a hilltop square sporting a replica of the statue of David. Hilltop destinations are navigationally easy - just wind your way upwards. I entered a hillside neighbourhood beyond a medieval wall and cut through the Giardino delle Rose (a charity-run garden of roses and modern art) to get to my destination. I barely glanced at David - my interest was in looking away from the hill and back the way I had come. These were truly grand views of Florence. Back down hill I had a late lunch of chilli garlic napoli pasta while dining alfresco. Returning to our hotel I looked for but never saw any of the old wine-seller 'plague windows' that were recently revived for selling coffees. I got a bit lost, but that was all part of the fun, then almost napped in the rooftop bar and somehow whiled away the evening.

Rome

We took train once more to the capital of Italy and onetime centre of the Mediterranean world. Once more we had to dump our stuff (this time at my first of three B&B brand hotels) and then take a full-on walk. We took in the Spanish Steps (close to the Spanish envoy to the Vatican) and the Trevi Fountain. I was struck by how these momunents are enclosed by relatively small squares that one never notices in movies. We also stepped further back in time by seeing the Pantheon, the Forum and the Colosseum. It was almost too awesome for me - I was overexposed to popular architectural icons and was most relieved on stepping into a church - Basilica St Andrea Della Valle - for the cool and calm rather than the decoration.

Chatting on this long walk with group members was fun but next we scattered and some of us took overcrowded essential public transport back to the hotel (there was a drivers strike on that day but everyone we met was remarkably composed). Following a shower and change I reconvened with the others for our Friday night farewell dinner at Saporito in the San Lorenzo quarter. Someone I had barely spoken with quizzed me on the relevance of Queen to what I had planned next. I had a burger because I was a bit over Italian by this night. However I stuck with those who went on for some gelato and then settled in and prepared for the second half of my European holiday.

Saturday involved walking to Rome Central Station and getting some trains with a change-over in the opulant Milan Station. I gave Mum a very quick phone call. As I rode the surprisingly efficient Italian trains I observed the landscape slowly shift from temparate plains and hills to cooler hills and lakes. The border with Switzerland was swiftly drawing closer.



Montreux

Transport went smoothly till I was faced with the need to transfer to a surprise train-replacement bus. I confusedly followed the crowd and someone muttered that recent avalanches had caused such temporary changes. I was preserving battery and so never took photos as I looked beyond the window at the green Alpine valleys we traversed. In the foreground was an even European distribution of villages in farmland, while in the background were forested hills with stony mountains peeping at us over them.

Eventually we got back onto a train and soon Lake Geneva appeared to one side of the line. I instantly recognized the scene from the album cover Made In Heaven and was relieved. I quickly left Montreux Station for its foreshore main road and checked into the old and gracious Hotel Splendid. Having secured my habitation for the next two nights, I ate Japanese close by.

On Sunday I had a small problem - Switzerland has its own distinct power points. I still had some battery charge left and rushed off to find the lakeside statue of Freddie Mercury. I took a lovely shot and immediately sent it to Belinda. Now in the mood, I found the Queen Studio Experience close by. This small exhibition, housed in what was once a studio owned by the band, included instruments, costumes, album memorabilia, a room for viewing a documentary, and another with a mock mixing desk to play with. I took some more photos in efficient priority order then left for another and ever more pressing matter.

In many parts of Europe supermarkets bear the name of Coop. These are cooperatively owned by consumers themselves. For me the Montreux branch was simply a very useful store that sold me a European Union to Swiss power adapter. I rushed back to my room for some relaxation and the charging of my dutiful phone, somewhat to the frustration of the room cleaner. I had already been energized by complimentary breakfast in the dining room, so it was soon time for a longer walk along the lakeside.

In the small parks that line the shore I came across a brass band performing for passers-by. Then I pressed on a few miles to the impressive Chillon Castle. The walk itself was picturesque due to the mountain-reflecting lake, the parklike walk, the intermittent public art, and the clement conditions that day. On my return I visited the station ticket office to confirm my connections for the next day and count the platforms. Such a practice would come in handy on other days.

I relaxed in my room some more then went a few streets back from the lake to find dinner. I had imagined something basic but impulsively dined in a fancy restaurant (complimentary bread followed by morel risotto and rounded off with tiramisu). Another customer even commented on my tasty choices. My first city alone had been a very satisfying one.

It was raining on Monday as I looked across the lake from my window-side breakfast table. I chatted with the owner on checking out and then took the stairs a few blocks back to the station and onward to another city across another border.

Strasbourg

My train rides to Strasbourg in France went smoothly but I then faced a long and rainy walk to my suburban hotel (another B&B branded one). Trudging along a bike track beside a highway is hardly the most gratifying of walks but it was improved somewhat by a garden colony to one side and soon I entered the inner suburb of Schiltigheim. It grew on me quickly. My hotel was the most new and basic I had been to but served its purpose. I spent the rest of the day in relaxing and exploring the neighbourhood. There was an old factory or warehouse that reminded me of Willy Wonka. There were charming backstreet townhouses decorated with wall art. I enjoyed dinner at a welcoming Indian restaurant on the main street and then settled in for a night of reading.

On Tuesday I had complimentary breakfast then walked along roads and across waterways to the European Parliament in Strasbourg. I find it apt that a French locale with a German name hosts an institution dedicated to cultivating peace between onetime belligerents via prosperous interdependence. I entered the modern ediface and passed security similar to that of an airport yet far more relaxed and respectful in tone. Once inside I undertook a self-guided tour of the public sections of the facility. This included displays of Europe themed art and ornaments. My favourite was a model of the stucture I was in. I dodged the school groups that started filling the space and went into the Hemicycle itself - the deliberative chamber of one of three European Union institutions that determine confederal policy. It was empty yet still impressive. However my mood was somewhat dampened by a political trend in which the 'Euroskeptic' ends of the Hemicycle are courted by too many of those sitting between them.

I finished with a snack in the cafe there and then walked via the Contades neighbourhood and some sports grounds back to Schiltigheim. That afternoon I made use of a laundromat and was soon asked advice by another person on using the machines there. Later I had a deconstructed pizza salad for dinner in a charming backstreet square (the streets that intersect there have names but the square itself seems nameless). Back in my room I packed and rested for the next day of travel.

Walking back to Strasbourg Station on Wednesday morning was complicated by my tendency to think taking streets seemingly parallel to your intended route will have the same basic result. It did allow me to glance at some old city architecture and I still got to my train on time. Familiarizing myself with stations and platform numbers had been serving me well but nothing was to prepare me for what happened once I crossed into Germany.

Appenweier Station has only three platforms but one is separated from the others by a short walk through parkland bisected by a stream. Luckily the path is well signposted. I had only a short time between scheduled trains but then my next one was half an hour late. I could have explored the village a bit but stayed put. The rest of the day my lateness accumulated. However it was more than just that one service messing with me. Trains were late or even cancelled at every German station at which I paused. Ticket offices were very helpful in issuing printed re-routings but problems cascaded. I cannot even tell you which stations I changed at but I feel like I stopped in Frankfurt, Bonn and Cologne.

Aachen

By the time I got to Aachen, close to the Dutch border, I was just over it all. Fortunately my hotel (third and final of the B&B brand) was a short walk from the station and there was a Turkish kebab shop across the road. I settled in and had a restful night away from crowded carriages and confused platforms. The foyer sported a small plastic statue of Charlemagne and it seems this image followed me in every part of town I visited.

On Thursday I slept in and, following breakfast, walked into the centre of town. I feel that Aachen is 'right sized' for wandering around and seeing things. I stumbled upon the town park. It featured a shrine-like shelter centred on a mineral springwater font and a glass-enclosed section of archaelogical excavation. Close by was Aachen Cathedrel and this time I did go inside. There were too few visitors to warrent queuing so it was easy. This is a particularly impressive cathedrel for its relatively modest size.

I browsed shops (some of them featuring that same statue) and donated a murder mystery I had just finished to an op-shop. I consumed cake and hot chocolate at a book store cafe - this particular book shop was four levels tall and even had a rooftop garden. I spent some time there, looking at everything from childish toys to adult magazines. But this was a diversion from why I was in the old capital of the Frankish Empire.

I found the Carolus Thermen in some parkland beyond the city centre. Past its barrier of change rooms and lockers is a marvellous playground of indoor and outdoor mineral pools and I whiled away a few hours just relaxing and taking in the atmosphere there. A large (and fully clothed) statue of Karl the Great overlooked us all. While seemingly incongruous, I like to imagine that the Carolingian ruler chose this town as his capital so he could always have a decent bath. I had a late lunch in the restaurant upstairs and this time I was overlooking the Holy Roman Emperor.

The mineral waters must have made me sleepy because I was slack for the rest of the day. I re-familiarized myself with the station (also right sized in my opinion) and cobbled together a snacky dinner from one of its shops to take back to my room. I packed for Berlin and then read from the Fighting Fantasy gamebook Starship Traveller.

Berlin

My intercity train connections to Berlin went smoothly and I enjoyed looking out the window at passing farmland and towns. Of particular note was the Volkswagen factory seen from Wolfsburg Station. But I have to backtrack a bit to that B&B Hotel because the theme of this Friday was silly mistakes. I had forgotten that the breakfast there was non-complimentary - embarrassing - but it was an error quickly corrected.

My next mistake happened in the massive Berlin Central Station. I got my intended suburban train for Charlottenhof confused for one for Charlottenburg. I quickly recognized the problem and rushed back to central from the zoo station. My destination was in greater Potsdam - technically a distinct city yet part of the greater Berlin-Brandenburg conurbation. I found the Havelufer Hotel even if it is barely signposted and from the street looks like it could be abandoned. It is however decent and gave me the biggest room of my holiday.

My third and final mistake of the day was to be infected by the enthusiasm of the young hotel receptionist who stressed that I had many hours yet in the day to explore beyond the hotel. I took this to heart and soon set off to find one of my holiday objectives. The hotel faced the Templiner Lake and I walked around it with the assistance of smartphone maps. But I also argued with that same device and we took a rather circuitous route through both tree-filled parkland and town house neighbourhoods. Along the way I encountered a fox. Soon I was lost in woodland at dusk walking on crunchy acorns along a track between a cemetary and some wire-fenced technical facility. Beyond that fence was my destination but how could I get to it? I walked the perimeter and eventually came to the gatehouse of the Albert Einstein Science Park but the guard told me to go away and return in daylight.

Eschewing dirt tracks, I took major roads, passing an Oktoberfest carnival, and got some currywurst with salad and chips for dinner. Back in my room I wondered whether I should try the next day for the same attraction or just abandon it altogether. I had been sticking to and succeeding in plans pretty well till that day but still had one more full day in Europe to go.

On Saturday I had complimentary breakfast and then took a cable ferry over the water. Only once across did I start negotiating with smartphone maps and things worked a lot better. I moved far more directly and was soon at the gatehouse. It was open and in I went. There are many working installations housed in the science park and some rather nice old architecture. My objective was the Einstein Tower - an optical observatory in the form of some very distinctive expressionist architecture. It was named in honour of Albert Einstein who only commented that it was rather 'organic'. That genius may have been noncommital on its appearance but I am all for it and took photos from every vantage of this enchanting ivory tower. It was definitely worth the return walk that day.

Next I went back into Potsdam via a free toilet stop at a nearby tree adventures rope course. I browsed a shopping centre attached to the station and then went into Berlin to meet an old friend. We originally met during my visit with Dad to small-town Germany back in the 90s and since then have only been in contact remotely. He now calls Berlin home. He took me on a walk of the city centre from the Brandenburg Gate to the Berlin Wall. Along the way I saw wide streets lined with monumental structures. We passed the US consulate and then its Russian counterpart. In front of that were silent vigils for those oppressed by belicose expansionism. But we were there for other things.

It was good to have a proper conversation with someone about our lives and travels and the changes we have witnessed. Of course I was also shown remnants of the Berlin Wall. Next we took a train to the Friedrichshain neighbourhood and stopped in a groovy student cafe. This was followed by some back laneways in which old warehouses converted into nightclubs stand as testament to the vibrant culture of this once divided city. We even passed a DJ spinning tunes under a railway bridge. My friend then went onto a dinner party and I returned to Potsdam for my final sleep overseas.

Things went very smoothly on Sunday - seems my mistakes were behind me. Berlin-Brandenburg Airport is new and efficiently designed and I had a lot of time to fritter away there. But eventually I was on a plane and preparing for more terribly long flights.

Home via Doha

I was still impressed by Qatar Airways but somewhat less so with Doha Airport. Something had changed and this time I had to endure two security check processes between my flights. Was it the resurgent clash of creeds in the Levant that had prompted this? Or was it simply that I was there at a busier time of night? Who can tell. It only enhanced my sense that I wanted it all over and done with so I could be back home.

And eventually I was. I was relieved once I got into Melbourne late on a Monday. During both a Skybus and a taxi ride home I felt a sense of relaxed belonging. It had been a long time for me to be so far away. My room however struck me as strangely busy - I must have grown accustomed to the minimalism of all those hotel rooms. My sleeping patterns and so forth took something like a week to normalize. And yet I was still living my European holiday in the form of curating photos and reviewing my notes.

* * * * *

I have now blogged on some of the philosphical aspects of my travels that may otherwise have interrupted the flow of this post. Take a look here.

Trolls

In running a new role-play game I have chatted with players on the topic of creating settings and scenarios. One thing I noted is that such creativity involves mixing the creative concepts of others and the more you mix the more distinctively yours a concept can become. To illustrate this I will focus on just one thing - Trolls in The Lands. I can discern something like five influences that went into my imaginary trolls. These concepts played back-and-forth concurrently in my mind. Here I shall present them in a sequence that moreorless fits my own discovery of those various conceptions.

The oldest encounter I had with trolls was in the fairy tale The Three Billy Goats Gruff. I'm sure this is true of many a childhood. This troll lives under a bridge and I had always imagined it therefore as something semiaquatic. Now I look back into the story and see some ambiguity. Many images depict the troll as standing under a bridge but on some enbankment. The story itself sometimes ends with the troll swept away by the flowing water once pushed in by the biggest brother goat. Nonetheless I decided that my trolls would be something that lurks in shallow waters and busts forth to accost shocked travellers.

I met the trolls of Middle Earth as a tween. Tolkien drew from creatures of Norse lore that are somewhat vague in description and his too vary over time. The three trolls in The Hobbit, while large and stupid, are rather humanlike. Their only fantastic characteristic is reverting to stone once exposed to sunlight. In Lord Of The Rings they become more monstrous and seem akin to the orcs they fight alongside. This impressed upon me the importance of having such creatures in a fantasy world but that role eventually went to my version of ogres (which for me are a cross between orcs and hill giants).

Next came Grendal and Grendal's Mother. I read a translation of Beowulf for young readers which may have named one or both as trolls. This Old English tale comes from a time in which its Scandinavian characters were experiencing a transition from Norse to Christian religion. It shows in the various ways these lethal monsters are described. The words and behaviours fit the older religion but they are reconceived as descendents of the wicked Biblical Cain. My trolls lack any supernatural significance but I do try to convey a sense of gloomy foreboding that came from this story. The abode of these two creatures is a grotto in a swamp and that entrenched for me the connection of trolls to water.

Eventually Dungeons & Dragons came into my teenaged life and its core rules describe a rather different monster from the influences thus far named. These gaunt creatures had rubbery hide with the ability to regenerate rapidly (even recombining with severed body parts). I think this was influenced by some pulp fiction author the D&D creators were into. I digress now into a bit of speculation of how to link this troll back to the mineral troll of Tolkien. Apparently silicone rubber can self-mend with the application of heat. What if D&D trolls were a living version of this? Fire would then become a boon rather than a bane to them. But back to my trolls and what I took from D&D was that regenerative ability.

Nature is my final and most important inspiration for trolls in The Lands. Salamanders are amphibians. They are carnivorous. They can even regenerate. My trolls are basically massive predatory salamanders. To emphasise this I call them freshwater or saltwater trolls. A tiny tip-of-the-hat to stone is given in them swallowing gastroliths to help in digesting stubborn armoured prey. Only problem is salamanders look cute to me.

In my imaginings and drawings I try to make my trolls more scary. In drawing them something emerged which reminded me of Ymir by Ray Harryhausen. Admittedly that alien is still a bit cute. However the vestigal gills I describe as looking like a mane of lank tendrils are reminiscent of the Hellhound from Hell Boy and that is more the level of creepiness I was aiming at. For specifics on my version of the troll click here (then scroll down three quarters of that page).

Hey Hi

Artificial Intelligence (AI) has been a big media topic over the past year or so. I cannot say I have a fantastic grasp of exactly what it is or what distinguishes AI from other kinds of computer activity. Even the question of exactly what intelligence could be is beyond me. I even think of a choose your own adventure book as a simulation of intelligence in paper form.

The key distinction to draw however is that the writer of such a book or program understands exactly how it works and what it can do. The latest generation of AI is different - even its own programers cannot understand exactly how it works or what results it will produce. Another factor that has made it controversial is that it can engage in seemingly creative acts that till recently only humans could do. Now machines can do much more than repetitive manual work or the purely logical processing of information. The Internet is a big factor here and AI can draw on a massive body of human-generated creativity in its own complex act of regurgitation.

My concern over this is eclipsed by an older worry over how mobile Internet has been altering human interactions anyway (and all our pat phrases and slogans render human communiction simpler for 'bots' to impersonate). My own work as an integration aide in adult education is intensely human-facing so will still be a job for some time to come. But I may as well get a passing familiarity with some of the latest AI tools. To that end I played with two particular applications.

* * * * *

I chatted with something now called Gemini - a generative AI chatbot that can hold a conversation and produce written content on command. I acted as if it were a person and complimented it on its polite manner. I also asked it what it would do if someone were rude to it. It told me it would ultimately end such a conversation. I was impressed. Evidentally its programmers at Google have put various parameteres on its behaviour. It results in some overly repetitive language as it apologetically stipulates what it can and cannot do. I can relate. I asked it for feedback on my own writing and it advised that I could be more succinct and use more active language. This is true. Next I gave it some more substantive tasks.

I asked for a description of a medieval fantasy village. It did pretty well but some aspects of the setting felt more Midsomer Murders than The Forgotten Realms. I asked it to describe a mid-sized faster-than-light spaceship that uses centrifugal force to simulate gravity. Once more it did well but completely neglected the bit involving spinning circular forms. It can definitely produce flowing and grammatical word-count that a human can then tidy and personalize (assuming that they bother).

Next I asked it to make some judgements on matters non-fictional. What characteristics both unite and distinguish classical liberalism, democratic socialism and traditional conservatism? It did well in drawing on academic definitions but there were some nuances I felt needed adjusting. Hardly surprising given my own qualifications. I asked it if my statement "funk is to soul as metal is to rock" made sense and it gave grounds for saying that it did. However it cannot recommend a flowing selection of tracks to save its life.

One thing I neglected to do was ask it about patently dodgy topics - it would be interesting to see how it responded to a conspiracy theory or bogus conception of the world. But I'm wary of even entertaining such notions online. I prefer these tools to be for fun.



I recently resumed GMing some role-play games and hunted online for free artwork to illustrate characters or locales. I noticed something was suddenly different. There was a lot of content from a handful of new websites. It was superficially decent but the closer I looked the more flaws I noticed. The overly idealized yet creepy faces. The deformed hands. The accidentally Escheresque architecture. I realized what I was seeing was a host of collaborations between AI and users describing what they were imagining. And then I decided, if you cannot beat them, join them, and started experimenting at a website called Night Café.

The resulting pictures were fine for my purposes of printing them as small grey images to flash at players as I described non-player characters. But then I moved onto something I hoped would work with the flaws of this new method. Toys are caricatures of reality. They are mass-produced and simplistic. They depend on commonly understood concepts and imagery. Hence I created The Sub-Culture Kids Action Figure Selection.

These are images of retro action figures depicting youthful members of well-known sub-cultures from a variety of backgrounds. They were produced by wrangling text over several fiddly and frustrating iterations. Nonetheless this method of producing images with colour and perspective was far quicker than anything I could do manually. And some of them are better than others.

Raving Rina is the best - even the characteristic AI mistake of blending her headphones with her hairstyle somehow works. Skating Suzana comes complete with an accessory. Hugo Hearts Hip-Hop and Grungy Gus are decent variations on each other but the latter needs more long and lank hair that I never managed to coax from the AI. Feral Faris looks like a hippy but is supposed to be of the more recent iteration of feral. Finally Gothic Greta seems like she comes from another toy line altogether - her proportions are too mature but older drafts of her looked far too childish.

It seems like I'm blaming my tools. I jumped right in rather than looking for elaborate instructions or getting advice from other Night Café users. But the whole attraction of this stuff is in time-saving. If I want I can use such imagery as drafts from which to hand-draw things that I can more exactly control. For now I have some sense of what the latest applications of AI can and cannot do.

How Bazaar

One activity I enjoy is visiting bazaars - spaces in which many stall-holders gather and sell second hand items of any kind. It started over a decade ago with discovering the Chapel Street Bazaar. I would go looking for particular items to buy - select old Transformers mostly. Rarely would I find exactly what I wanted. But it hardly mattered because most of the fun came from simply seeing all this dodgy old stuff.

Somewhat more recently I was introduced to the larger Waverley Bazaar closer to home. This warehouse setting for browsing old tat then moved to even larger premises in Clayton past the newly constructed M-City (which incidentally is a right-sized shopping centre featuring just one supermarket, one department store, and a cinema). Here one can stroll for an hour slowly taking in all the consumer novelty of several decades past. Few things are truly antique but there is plenty of retro stuff to satisfy. I go for the toys but stay for other things. Here I will share a handful of the many photos I've taken to give a sense of the nostalgia.



There are plenty of old vinyl records but this one has been turned into - what - a bowl of some kind? Possibly an ash tray? Who can say for sure. Somebody adapted it into a minor work of craft and you could utilize it any way you wish.



I saw this nude statue at Chapel Street and then later at Waverley. I have to allow for the possibility than even something this large and particular was mass produced. They could have been two separate copies. And yet I fancy that she was following me around. I suspect that some items pass hands from stall-holder to stall-holder and just move about. What a jolly good sport.



I suppose a plastic plaything had to be part of my survey. I never had nor played Mousetrap but always enjoyed the ads and indeed any such gizmos. It has been fun reliving both my own childhood and the childhoods of others in coming across games like this colourful contraption.



Here we have a sliver of the history of how history is depicted. Some may find it holds a dated message but it works well as a presentation of information. We see how the Spanish and Portuguese aspired to divide the world between them in the 1500s. And our spherical planet is rendered here on paper in such a way that the colonizing powers expand from the approximate centre of that process. Plenty of maps have been called 'Eurocentric' but this one literally is.



I cannot even tell you what this is. Definitely a machine. Most likely a computer (I think it says so in writing). Something computerized then. But what does it do? I want to say it worked in a factory or garage but the truth is I merely like the way it looks. Others can tell me what its function was. I wonder if anyone will ever buy it.



Sometimes it is difficult to tell exactly what an item is. This massive strangling snake could just be a model but I suspect it is a cumbersome piece of taxidermy. One becomes accustomed to seeing markedly different things at a bazaar but sometimes I am still utterly surprised. And in this case a tad spooked. The way it just lolls about among household items and clothes racks is incongruous.

* * * * *

A bazaar often acts as a museum while it is always a store. The many stall-holders stock the shelves but everything is managed and transacted via one front desk. At the Waverley Bazaar they even have the space for a basic cafe and I usually make a purchase there - I think of it as a voluntary entry fee. After all, I want them to stay open. And now and then I'll buy a gift or bring a friend to share in the experience. Even if it has become a part of my everyday life it still feels just a bit bizarre.

The Hex Home

During my recent holiday I mostly looked out the coach windows but, during one stretch of our journey, I did some doodling of a concept in which a floor plan is defined by an array of connected hexagons. Been watching reviews of mid-century architecture and that influenced this. Each hexagon is either a structure or the space between them. The result is a quick-and-dirty plan for a home distributed across three structures and four yards - The Hex Home.

Each structure is a two storey hexagonal prism topped with a roof shaped like a hexagonal pyramid. Both brick and timber will go into these forms (with brick providing the internal framework and the outer walls on the ground level). You could fit one home into such a stucture but I'm using three to form a bigger home with a total of eight bedrooms (the two on the ground floor functioning as guest rooms). There are many shared spaces of general or specific purpose. The centre of the home is a courtyard sporting a saltwater relaxation pool. The dining room and two living rooms face onto this yard and glass concertina doorways allow these to become one unified space. Likewise the three structures each sport a balcony overlooking that same space (with shade cloths positioned in such a way to allow this view).



1. Entry Yard (gravel) - 2. Pool Courtyard (decking and planters) - 3. Side Yards (lawn and garden beds) - 4. Dining Area - 5. Kitchen - 6. Living Areas - 7. Laundry - 8. Walkthru Bathrooms - 9. Library - 10. Arts & Crafts - 11. Bedrooms - 12. Landing (toilet and shower closet to each side) - 13. Covered Balcony - 14. Shade Cloths

* Storage (including walk-in pantry, storeroom, wardrobes etc).



From the courtyard one can walk into two lawned gardens (including food growing patches) and one gravel yard. The last is also the first area that guests step into on visiting the Hex Home. Here vehicles can be parked but there can be a garage close by (in the same position as the banner saying 'Hex Home' in the sketches) and can be of conventional shape. The two living rooms can be differentiated by furniture selection (for instance to be for lounging and rumpus respectively). From the three indoor common areas one can access another three shared spaces - the kitchen, the library, and an arts-and-crafts room. Dining and kitchen are spearated only by a bench. The living areas and beyond are only partitioned by decorative shelves. Those common spaces share bathrooms with the guest rooms.

Inside the lower levels one can walk around in a circuit. This cannot be done on the upper levels (unless you installed secret communicating doors between the bedrooms). Each upper level is identical in floor plan. The landings access small separate shower and toilet chambers to either side. From each covered balcony one can enter two bedrooms. More concertina glass panels allow each balcony to be shut away from the elements. Spiral staircases save on space. There is a store room close to the laundry while the kitchen has a walk-in pantry. Bedrooms and some common rooms have inset storage too.

Such an extended family home or holiday house would be awesome to share with others and play host to many fine gatherings. For me it was even fun just to imagine and plan.

Three Courses

This is a lazy reproduction of something I originally posted to Facebook, inspired by an eccentric British game show. Been a while since I blogged about food so here's something short.

I got into lots of TV shows during lockdowns, including Taskmaster. In one segment of this eccentric game show, contestants had to devise and serve a meal using a list of twenty six ingredients, each starting with a different letter of the Latin alphabet. In more time than it took for them to do the entire task, I only managed to prepare lists of what I feel would make a palatable three course meal, rather than the crazy things they made on-the-fly...

Vegetable Soup - water, celery, Dutch carrot, mushrooms, onion, kernels of corn, stock, punctured jalapeño to soak in the soup and finally, a drop of xanthan gum.

Pasta Primavera with Pine Nuts - pinch of salt, fettuccine, pine nuts, bell peppers, zucchini, garlic-infused olive oil, tomato puree, Italian herbs, topped with some shredded Edam cheese.

Yoghurt Delight - plain yoghurt, honey with pinch of nutmeg, raspberries, quince jam, apple slices dipped in lemon juice, decorated with cocktail umbrella.

All served with choice of water or white wine.



I did all these over a week, since cooking a three course meal for just yourself is a bit much. They were all fine, although in some cases I would switch a few ingredients around in future. Seems I have a thing for green and orange in my food. It resulted in me having some ingredients that it will take ages for me to use. I guess I could always take the bag of cocktail umbrellas to a party or two next month...

Your Clumps

Close to a decade ago I started sharing my 'clumps' method of sorting upper house preferences. Friends on Facebook found it useful but, since then everyone has become so much more political than they were. So, this time all I will do is a 'how to do a how to' and these are the basic steps I take to get my clumps together.

1. The Australian or state electoral commissions list currently registered political parties and with those names you can do some research of your own of party websites. Checking these primary sources can inform you of what they stand for.

2. You will also want to check independent secondary sources. Wikipedia is usually pretty good at providing information on parties - often they will have a whole page dedicated to one political party. If there is a side-bar of quick facts then look for links on 'ideology' specifically. This provides a useful way of clumping parties and tends to be more accurate than party names.*

3. You might also want to consider criteria other than ideology for sorting preferences. Some considerations include how a party serves your demographic interests, how dogmatic or pragmatic it is, and the conduct of its candidates.

4. However there are other motives in yourself of which to be wary. A party might fall further below your expectations of it compared with another party but still be better than that other party. A leader might project a persona that grates with you more than a rival leader but still be better at the job. An advertising campaign may look dumb to you but obscure a worthwhile policy platform. Ask yourself whether these are the best ways to make judgements.

5. Another way to do this is to identify your most trusted political party and then simply follow the preferences they recommend (noting however that they also factor tactics into these). And if you do that you might want to take the next step of volunteering for that party. Even seemingly slick campaigns tend to be short-staffed and very much in need of helpers.

* Supplementary to Step 2

Many will know how to compare different ideological stances. However, if you want to get a better sense of how much you agree with them, try this online test I found. All such tests are flawed but I think this one works better than most and can even be fun. The percentages it gives you could form the basis of a ranking of political parties (with parameters like '75% or above is good while 50% or below is bad').

In the following lists I try to align most of the terms found in the Vetriutan Test with similar or overlapping terms found in the Wikipedia side-bars of parties.

Paleoconservative - Social Conservative, Agrarian, Nationalist, Conservative

Neoconservative - Fiscal Conservative, Nationalist,
Liberal Conservative

Market Liberal - Classical Liberal, Economic Liberal, Libertarian

Social Liberal - Civil Libertarian, Secular Liberal, Progressive,
Green Politics

Social Democrat - Progressive, Green Politics, Protectionist

Christian Democrat - Protectionist, Centrist, Regionalist,
Social Conservative

Note that a person of any theological position can still get the Christian Democrat result. It is a nominally religious form of moderate conservatism popular in continental Europe and Latin America. Angela Merkel was a far better example of that politics than our own Fred Nile (whose old party of the same tag better fit what is here called Paleoconservative).

Some of you might have also taken the ABC Vote Compass (for Federal elections). In this hastily drawn sketch I try to superimpose the Vetriutan Test terms over it.

Townscaped

Around twelve months ago I did something most unsual for me, and bought a computer game. Well sort of a game... more a toy... for making things...



Townscaper provides one with the virtual setting of a shallow sea within which one can construct all manner of cartoonesque maritime townships. The play space is a massive hexagon in which each tile can be one of several distinct shapes arranged randomly across that space. Click on a cell to add a block of land. Click on that to add a tiny house (possibly only one room in size). Keep clicking and you will soon have streets and apartment blocks. Explore more of the game's quirks and you can have palaces and parklands.

Others online can tell you how it is done, while I will focus on just one cool thing - that randomly generated array of tiles. If you are obsessed with symmetry then you have to confine yourself to very small parts of the space in which circular, triangular and rectangular patterns preside. If you want bigger towns then you have to surrender yourself to more elaborate contours, just as human settlements must naturally conform to geography.

Some of my oldest designs are still my favourite. Canal Town was inspired by my fantasy city-state of Nartellfar but there are key differences between them. Townscaper depicts its designs as antique yet modern rather than the medieval setting of D&D - Canal Town is thus a more recent-seeming locale than Nartellfar. It is also smaller, as the game only allowed so much space. Canal Town is an island while Nartellfar is on an isthmus or something. Finally, Canal Town has a palace and so likely has nobility, while Nartellfar is republican. If you click here (then follow the arrows rightward) you can browse screen shots of Canal Town.

Another of my designs is Gardenvale, which maximises green open spaces by enclosing the entire design in a wall. In it I played with having a port district, but also farmland and a terraced apartment complex, complete with pool. The complex has its own gardens and, because the structure is hollow, some of those gardens are permanently shaded, and can be accessed by archways and light wells. Click here (then follow the arrows rightward) to browse Gardenvale.

The hollowness of some structures (in part an effort-saving tactic as it involves fewer clicks) then contributed to a recent saying of mine - 'alfresco everything'. This architectural topic deserves its own post but, for now I'll say that, in this pestilent time we need more transitional spaces between the indoors and outdoors, combining freshness with shelter. This lockdowns attitude affected some of my designs (see from here onwards).

Another thing that shifted my design ethos was the discovery of a website that converts Townscaper files into walk-thru settings (it has a small default setting you can explore right now). This took my attitude right to street level and suddenly I was much more interested in the interconnectivity of my designs. The doors and windows in Townscaper are mere decoration. Now I was ensuring gaps and arches allowed ground access between areas. I enticed stairways to form and, in the absense of that, cascading rooftops that could be easily climbed (see from here onwards). And now many of my designs have as much inside as outside. Only problem is huge designs challenge the walkthru website and so I now specialize in making compact yet complex settings.

I have saved the best for last. One exciting feature of Townscaper is the option of making propeller-lifted hovering platforms (somewhat reminiscent of the destination in the Prop Cycle arcade game). They can be constructed over some circular or oval patterns and are a lot of fun to find. I was soon considering how they integrated into an overall setting. Neighbourhoods had landing pads or ponds on which my sky towers could come to rest. There is even a hanger with a hovering platform harnessed inside (see from here onwards).



I can understand why so many lazy days and late nights can be had in just clicking. This deceptively complex activity has done that to me. If you have the time and inclination then try Townscaper.

Protestation

I have long known that protests attract a disparate array of endorsing groups and individuals representing a host of overlapping opinions. This has been the case for all but the smallest of events I attended since the 90s. I have marched even with those I have huge political problems with - lovers of one-party dictatorships who advocate violent revolution. However I always excused this as okay because protest movements belong to everybody and nobody involved. But recent talk online is prompting me to rethink what I know.

The pandemic has necessitated some decisive goverment actions to limit its impacts. Those rules are inevitably harsh and have taken a toll. In response there have been waxing and waning protests objecting variously to restrictions on movement, promotion of vaccine targets, closures of worksites and so on. These protests have attracted 'wellness' nuts, global conspiracy theorists and ultra-conservative agitators. But as lockdowns went on-and-on the protests grew in size and at the same time I saw fewer correctly masked faces on my local suburban walks. We were all a bit over it. My hunch then is that the committed protesters were now bolstered by relatively apolitical sorts who were venting frustration with personal suffering and emoting more than thinking. There were also bogans who just wanted some obnoxious fun (apparently even regarding the protests as a dating scene).

But what of the mock gallows seemingly intended for our political leaders and medical advisors? Were these metaphorical or something more manacing? The death-threats received by parliamentarians supporting the Victorian state government suggested we had to be wary and events overseas have shown that things can get very nasty. Even those who are usually very critical of police suddenly became much more keen on policing protesters.

The feeling online among those favouring lockdowns was that all those protesters were complicit in its worst behaviours. Experts in public advocacy say it is a mistake to tar everyone in such groups with the same brush. But what if I were to go with the sentiment of my online peer group and apply that to all experiences including my own?



In July 1997 the One Nation party decided to hold a meeting at the Dandenong Town Hall (now the Drum Theatre) at which one of its key figures (cannot remember now if it was David Ettridge or David Oldfield) would speak. Dandy is a hub of our multicultural south-eastern suburbs and it was a provocative decision. The intention to protest this meeting grew organically from locals and soon drew attention from others. I went along that evening with a few friends from uni.

One Nation seemed to be using a side entrance on Walker Street and a crowd of a few thousand had gathered there. We filled the width of that road alongside the town hall. Around the corner in Langhorne Street the local council had arranged a musical celebration of multiculturalism to diffuse the likely tensions of the night. Pretty much everyone however stayed in Walker Street. Many cultural and religious groups were represented and there was a postive mood in the mingling throng, which included more avowedly ideological and sub-cultural groups too.

Across from the town hall, sitting on shop verandahs, were some agile masked figures, apparently anarchists. They seemed content to watch over everything silently, till the metal structure started to screech in protest of its own, and they scrambled off into Crump Lane. Closest to the town hall were the police and some barriers intended to separate protesters from meeting attendees. At the very front of the crowd - the moshpit if you will - were the constantly yelling and chanting Marxist-Leninists (under whatever names they had back then) armed with cartons of eggs. I think I agrued with one of them. They think that making life more difficult for your opponent is a sure way of repelling them. But surely these activists knew from personal experience that adversity promotes stubborn resolve. Maybe they just never made the connection between themselves and other humans.

I cannot recall the attendees entering the meeting but I do remember them departing. They must have noticed those cartons because somebody had provided them with rubbish bin liners to wear like ponchos. A small number of mostly elderly men and women were then pelted with eggs. Some teens yelled 'human garbage' jeeringly. The cops prevented much more than that happening. The next day this small part of the night was all that the media reported on. I was livid and even called a journalist to object. There were thousands of us peacefully protesting for hours, I opined, and only a fraction of the crowd had been involved in the egg-throwing. The journalist told me that they only focused on what was 'newsworthy' and interesting for readers. I was far from satisfied with this, but what if the media had done what I wanted, and printed a line like this:

"A handful of protesters pelt frail senior citizens with raw eggs,
as thousands stand idly by."

If all protesters are complicit in the acts of the worst then that is what I would have deserved. But am I right to make these comparisons? You could argue that it is one thing to throw eggs at some old potential racists and another to mock-hang a public figure who only wants to save lives. That feels like an excuse to me and protests of any kind suddenly seem like something to consider attending much more warily.

There is also the matter of whether protests are even effective. There have been sober concerns over excessive government rules and enforcement during the pandemic. These were well-expressed by a range of legal and civil rights groups, like Liberty Victoria, that lobbied state parliament to amend legislation, clarifying the role of government and the rights of Victorians during a pandemic. Contrast this with the protesters who have succeeded only in pissing off both police and public.

Despite all this, it is worth remembering that Australians overwhelmingly accepted the value of restrictions and vaccines. I suspect that the practice of lockdowns will serve us well now that we are supposed to act with personal responsibility. And I hope that civil society is still alive-and-well in this difficult time.

Eccentric Orbit

All models are bunk, and all online tests for positioning oneself within those models, even more so. But they can be fun. I like to think my British Eccentric Test was fun, but one thing it never had was a groovy chart to illustrate its model. Now, fifteen years later I provide one, thanks to a few spare moments of doodling between work sessions. This is how the boringly normal, the almost normal, the bit odd, the peculiar and the eccentric are all arrayed.

I quickly rejected the use of a spectrum because one dimension is boring. Besides, there will be far more variation among eccentrics than among those who are normal. The test only has so many questions but if more were asked we would find many more eccentric directions to take, hence I drew a set of concentric circles with normality at the centre. I gave more space to successive shells to reflect greater variety within each. What this suggests is that there can be greater difference between two eccentrics than between an eccentric person and a normal person.

Next thing I did was to turn the circles into ellipses. Initially this was just a private joke about eccentric orbits but I soon ascribed meaning to it. It bulges to one side so that the seeming centre is off-centre. This gets away from the notion that normality is necessarily the happy medium. "A little nonsense now-and-then is relished by the wisest men" as Willy Wonka says.

Finally, to draw the ellipses, I used diffuse and transparent highlighter, rather than sharp and opaque pen, because the divisions between groupings are arbitrary, and the most flawed aspect of such models. If two of us stand only just to either side of a line then we are hardly different at all.

The Jagged Tooth

The Jagged Tooth keep was a key setting of The Fox And Hare adventure that started my long fantasy role-play campaign of some years ago. Here I discuss that adventure and give a blow-by-blow description (complete with illustrations and floor plans) of the abandoned hill fort. This text can serve as a game module and I could even re-use it in future gaming. The adventure is for a party totalling a maximum of 20 experience levels (such as four characers each at fifth level). Beware! If you ever want to play it then consider skipping this entry.



Too Much Walking

As described here The Fox And Hare advenenture starts at the Welcome Inn. In The Lands that inn is located in the village of Overcrossing but I could always move the opening scenes closer to the action. My games have a tendency to go over-long and that is partly because I have characters walking from site to site. It is enriching to describe the experience of traversing rural landscapes but it can go to far. It takes a few days to go from Overcrossing to Roburg - capital of Rolania - and then another few days to the village of Muddy Gully in the Brethic Hills. Then the characters hike another day into the Dire Swamp to enter the Jagged Tooth. This could be too much walking.

I do feel that a well-rounded adventure includes the three classic settings of town and wilderness and dungeon. This adventure can still offer that with the following outline:

* The adventure starts at an inn located outside the city walls of Roburg. That evening (of whatever season seems apt) the adventurers (who could be strangers) gather and then meet the envoy that will entice the party into adventure. The famed bard Lura Flana could be visiting this inn from her own home inn and provide the necessary back-story of the Brethic Royal Dagger in an act of musical serendipity. However its implicit warnings are best glossed over. Short sense descriptions can be offered to help immerse players in the setting - this can include the diverting smells and tastes of a bustling tavern at night.

* The envoy is one Keelan the Halfling who acts as factotum for Ackerley The Sage. The next morning the slick-talking and street-wise Keelan can guide the party to the townhouse of his employer. That elderly scholar thinks he has pieced together a historic puzzle regarding the location of the long-lost Brethic Royal Dagger. He will pay them generously for retriving it and will provide them with the information they need to do just that.

* While they are talking something is watching them from outside the study window - It is a familiar (possibly an exciting one like a Homunculus or Mock Dragon) which flies away the moment anyone notices it. The intention of this encouter is to show that the lost artifact interests a number of actors and provide explanation of a later scene. Ackerley will say the spy serves his rival Roscoe (also a sage and mage) and it is vital they act quickly lest they become competitors in a race to find the Dagger.

* If they agree then the party can do some basic supply shopping (funded by Ackerley) and depart Roburg by lunchtime with the maps and advice they need. Keelan may accompany them to ensure they get to Muddy Gully. The journey is punctuated by camping under stars. Or sometimes there are wayfarer cabins (former woodcutter constructions that are now maintained by the state and which travellers keep stocked with donations of preserved foods). For an extra cost the journey can be shortened by taking a River Rolling beaver-drawn barge some of the way. As they travel the characters can share tales of past adventures.

* The party will pass a border toll house. Here they will be observed by a well-armed Paladin (who Keelan may recognize as the stern Madame Greer of Elmshire). As the meadows of Rolania cede to the rugged Brethic Hills they could discuss the differences between the Eriman and Brethic kin. If the players seem itching for action then they can be accosted by a small gang of bandits (who they should best with scant effort).

* By nightfall they will arrive in the vale and village of Muddy Gully. I originally located an inn here but the backwardness of the locale could be communicated by saying that the village elder Brewster has some room for visitors in his house. He enjoys cooking and will offer grilled mushrooms on toast, pond cress and pinenut salad, and scrambled egg with roast parsnip chunks. The party know they must spend the next day in Muddy Gully so they can be at the local hilltop stone circle at sunset. That night they can have separate dreams relevant to the backstory or aspirations of each character but also united by a shared vision of a shadowy figure on a hillside staring at them.

* In the morning the adventurers and Keelan can pass the time wandering the small community and admiring its chalk hill carving of the Fox. This day could be an excuse to incorporate other games into this role-play game involving cards or dice or chess pieces. Villagers inform them that events are never held at the stone circle at dusk or dawn - a local practice at odds with usual Druidic custom. At dusk they visit the stone circle and witness the setting Sun silhouette the location of a stony formation on a distant hilltop beyond the chalk carvings on closer slopes. However they are also visited by the local Druid. The careworn and sombre Kendra warns them that they court doom if they decide to follow that path. Her distortion of standard religous practice (having practically abandoned her commitments to the villagers) can serve to negate such warning in the minds of the party.

The Dire Swamp

One could even start the adventure in Muddy Gully with the adventurers already having accepted their mission (a few flashback scenes could be informative and some players even enjoy reciting prepared dialogue). A progression of Muddy Gully then Dire Swamp then Jagged Tooth Keep could serve as a sampler of town - wilderness - dungeon and be inserted with small changes into any fantasy setting (the Dagger for instance could be a wholly distinct Celtic fantasy device rather than the fragment of an even more ancient Proto-Germanic one) using rules other than mine. But on with the quest as it plays out in The Lands:

* The party can set off the next morning. Keelan however will depart for work back in Roburg. They take a path from the vale of Muddy Gully to another narrow vale that is filled with wild foliage and strewn with boulders. Here they see the somewhat neglected chalk hill carving of the Hare. Following a few hours of hiking they abandon paths for a climb into the next and usually overlooked valley. As they do so they feel as if someone is watching them.

* The next valley is different from others - it is a circular basin filled with the marshes of the Dire Swamp. In its centre is a low yet steep hillock on which sits the Jagged Tooth keep. The wetlands are effectively a natural maze. Muddy pathways wind between stands of matted grasses and vines and are criss-crossed by tiny backwaters. Everything is damp and the atmosphere seems oppressive. Here they will finally meet monsters!

* The party will encounter a few wafting Will-O-Wisp. If they follow the misty glowing spheres they will be lead to a sunlit waterside clearing. The pool is mostly lined with reeds but under a willow tree the characters can easily access the water. At the far side is a pile of boulders and careful observation will suggest that the water flows towards it. Anyone getting too close to the water will be startled by a Freshwater Troll seeking to grasp and pull them underwater while the energy-scavenging wisps patiently await the moment of death. Whether the wisps partake in combat depends on how challenging one wishes the encounter to be.

* If the party slay the Troll they may then discover that a semi-waterlogged cave hides among the boulders. For extra challenge and revulsion they can encounter clusters of rubbery eggs that may hatch into ravenous trollish tadpoles. A natural stone shelf at the far end of the cave is above the normal water line and here the bones of past victims can be found along with their lost possessions. This could be a chance for the party to get some useful items (Holy Water will be a boon later on).

* It will take hours but finally the party will reach the hillock. On its sides grow pine trees and small ferns. They may momentarily be surprised by what looks like a squirrel with small horns. As they climb the hill the sense they are observed will return. Eventually they will meet Kendra but something is different about her. The maverick Druid demands they turn back or she will force them back. If combat occurs then she will throw off her robes to expose an artful infestation of parasitic Mistletoe has granted her extra limbs with which to fight. The Druid is also assisted by other Mistletoe that detach from the trees to try and graft themselves to the traspassers. Kendra is bound by an inherited oath to prevent anyone reaching the Jagged Tooth, is resistant to negotiation, and will fight to the death.



The Jagged Tooth

The top of the hillock is cloven by a narrow crevice. On the closer side is a gatehouse. On the further side is a walled yard and the keep itself. A draw bridge crossing the crevice collapsed long ago but this is a scant barrier to inventive adventurers. The whole thing is very apparently long-past its prime and yet in amazing condition if one considers it has been standing for almost two millenia. Its design is similar to far more recent structures and possibly even influenced them. Such musings may only cross the minds of historically-minded adventurers. Others will be far more interested simply in the lie of the land.



Characters can use the upper level of the gatehouse to camp in or store items. There is nothing of danger here but they may feel a sense of cold shivers from looking across to the keep. What they cannot yet see is what is on each level of this ancient complex. But we can.



My hastily drawn cross-section was arbitrarily numbered from top to bottom - ten levels from watch tower to caves in the hillside. In practice characters will most likely enter the keep at level six - the great hall - and then move up or down from there. However the objective they seek can best be accessed by travelling all the way up and then down. Here are the functions of each level:

1. Watch Tower - sits atop the furthest north-west corner turret of the keep. This turret houses a secret stairway that can only be accessed from the private floor (top) or the crypts (bottom).

2. Private Level - this level includes a solar, a study and a royal bedroom. The solar (a shared living area for solitary and relaxing past-times) is now partly exposed to the elements by collapsed walls in the north-east corner. This level is accessed from below by the south-east turret.

3. Guest Level - this level includes corridors accessing four guest rooms. The north-east corner is exposed to the elements. This level is accessed by south-west and south-east turrets.

4. Banquet Level - this level includes an l-shaped banquet hall and a kitchen. It is accessed by both north-east and south-west turrets.

5. Balcony Level - this is simply a balcony running around the walls of the twice-tall grand hall. There was a platform for minstels in the north-west corner. Part of the walkway is collapsed on the eastern wall and other parts may be at risk of future collapse. It is accessed by both south-west and north-east turrets. At this same elevation are also the tops of the yard wall turrets but they are of zero interest.



6. The Great Hall - This room occupies the entire floor area (25 yards square minus wall thickness). It is lined with columns supporting the balcony level. In the north-west corner is a somewhat raised platform on which a timber throne decays. This floor accesses other levels via the north-east and south-west turret spiral staircases. It is entered via broken double doors and external steps at the south-east. Narrow windows bring wan light into this shadowy space as they do on other floors above. At this same elevation is the few rooms of the upper level of the gatehouse with its drawbridge mechanisms turning to rust and sawdust.

7. The Basement - This floor is in fact level with the walled yard and gatehouse entry way. However it is the keep foundations and accessed from the grand hall above it. It includes cellers for storing food (long-since decayed) and what were once servant quarters. There is also a well in the south-west corner which draws on water from caverns below. It is accessed via north-east and south-east turrets. The walls are thicker at this level. In the yard are a few scattered bones and stonework and the southern wall is collapsing.

8. The Dungeon - This floor was once locked away but now anyone can push past its iron gates to discover guard room and cells for onetime prisoners. There is evidence of ancient punishment and death in its detritus. It is accessed via the south-east turret spiral stairs which are centred on its southern wall.

9. The Crypts - This hidden level can only be accessed in two ways. One is via the long spiral way of the private turret of the watch tower. The other is via a rambling fissure to the natural caverns also located in the hillock. There are three chambers here. The oldest is lined with irregularly fitted stones while the newest is lined with precicely hewn blocks. Thus the three generations of tombs show both degrees of age and technical advancement.

10. The Caverns - These natural caverns include a pond from which the well-water was once drawn. They can also be accessed from a fissure connecting to the crypts. Furthermore they connect to a tunnel opening onto the crevice far below the gatehouse and another opening onto the steep vegetation-shroud western hillside.



The Encounters And Puzzles of The Jagged Tooth

The levels were described from top to bottom as per those sketches. Here however the adventurous elements of the keep will be described in a likely narrative sequence. Of course players have a way of messing with such order but this is the most optimal path:

* In the Great Hall is a peculiar fungal growth - a Growler - and if one gets within a yard of it the slowly-moving life-form will emit a buzzing vibration. This will in turn attract the attention of a Troll which spends its time wandering between the cavern pool and the keep via the old well shaft (or if we are sick of those amphibious monsters then maybe Kendra enticed a small family of Goblins to occupy the lower floors).

* It is here that description should start to make it apparent that the north-west turret cannot be accessed level after level. Is there something important in this architectural peculiarity?

* The party suspect that the Dagger will be among grave items and so it makes sense to work downwards. They find nothing of much interest in the Basement but in a Dungeon cell something is scawled in the old Brethic mode. Those understanding it will read "you gotta get up to get down" and can ponder this message.

* On the Balcony above the Great Hall are some fading and fraying textile wall-hangings. How do these still exist at all? Some show hunting scenes or members of this ancient court. One shows an even older timber-framed keep that the party can suppose once occupied this site in the days of Lord Brennan.



* As the party climb the north-east turret to the Banquet Hall they will be startled to hear raucous conversation and astounded to find a banquet in full-swing! A score or more revellers are quaffing drinks and ripping into foodstuffs. It is as if the adventurers have stepped into the time in which this keep was inhabited. At the head of the table sits a haughty and regal woman who will ask the party to honour her by partaking in merriment. Here an ancient and permanent illusion (third level) combined with a joy enchantment (first level) entices visitors to consume imaginary food and drink while engaging in talk of daring deeds in the presence of Lady Fenella. Anyone can try their luck at resisting this Bardic magic and keep trying. Overcoming the spell is like focusing past the reflection in a window pane to the scene beyond it. Some never bother as is evidenced by skeletons occupying a few of the positions of seeming revellers.

* In the corridors accessing the Guest rooms wanders a Gelatinous Mass with assorted rodent and bird bones embedded inside it. A dagger within the jelly cell colony will momentarily excite the party but it is evidently nothing of any value or importance. However the creature will consider the party food and they will have to contend with it.

* In the Private solar a trap has been set (possibly by Kendra). A trip-wire extends from a loom to a statue of Lord Galvin. If triggered the loom will fire arrows at anyone walking towards the study. They may even be toxic.

* Beyond the study is the bedroom and in its fireplace a fire still flickers! This is yet another ancient illusion (keen observers will notice the firelight cast is more garish pink than warming amber) and if disbelieved the party can find that behind it is access to the Watch Tower. Its sprial stairs allow descent far below to what the party seek.

* The Crypts house three tomb chambers. The first holds only the crumbling bones of Brennan. The second holds the mummified corpse of his daughter Fenella. The third is home still to the Wraith of her son the despotic Galvin whose phantasmal eyes now glare with a jarring pale blue light. He wafts above his tomb and directs one or two Wight minions to attack the party. He taunts them that if they slay his followers they may then be worthy to replace them as his servitors in eternity. The Wraith may even enter the fray with its life-sucking kiss. If they vanquish these Undead they will find the Brethic Royal Dagger in his tomb among decaying armour and finery.

* Parts of the connecting Caverns are home to clusters of Cavern Conches making it difficult to pass safely.

An Ending Or Continuation?

Once they retrieve the Dagger they may experience odd whispered notions of how wonderful it would be to keep for themselves. Nonetheless they will wish to depart the Jagged Tooth Keep and Dire Swamp and can do so by back-tracking. If they look back from the hills overlooking the marshy basin they will see the ancient fortress crumbling as if it has suddenly been freed to experience the embrace of passing time.

Back in Muddy Gully they will find other visitors to the village. Keelan is there in the company of Madam Greer and her small retinue of troops. They have sturdy tents so Brewster can still offer room to the party. Keelan has a tale to tell of his own. One night Ackerley and his arch-rival Roscoe clashed on the rooftops of Roburg in a nasty but somewhat inept spell-slinging duel which drew the attention of the City Guard. It transpired that the mages had been fighting over information on the Dagger and soon the Protector of Rolania himself was interrogating them. The state has an historic and political interest in the artifact and has undertaken to pay the party everything they had been offered for its possession. Greer can remunerate them now and Keelan suggests it is an excellent offer.

It is for the party to decide what to do next. If they hand over the Dagger they will be well-rewarded and free to do whatever they wish. There the adventure will end. However they are yet to even say that they successfully took it from the Jagged Tooth. An alternative is for them to try and keep the fateful relic and become fugitives from Rolanian authority. What fate they choose only the players can decide (but either way they may now advance a level).