Tour de France '14(4): Food / La Bouffe

France is famous for food, but not for obesity. They eat lots of fat, and yet they’re not fat.

Perhaps it is part of the French Paradox that is thought to be due to their drinking a lot of red wine. Some ascribe it specifically to the resveratrol in the red wine, but elsewhere I argue that this might be just so much snake oil.

Anyway, the real paradox to me is that everywhere else in the world, I am told that drinking red wine will make me fat!

So here I am in France doing some important research on this issue: to see if speaking French, living in France and eating (and drinking!) as they do has any effect on my weight. It’s a heavy gig.

My son has kindly noted that my six-pack looks like a bloated, squishy, mini-keg when I’m sitting down.

However, I think this is an artefact. If I stand up, it goes away. And if I put my fingers in my ears, I can't hear any remarks.

Besides, France is exactly the place for addressing an important dilemma: would you rather live forever on water and celery or live (and die) happily on fine food and drink.

It’s hard to go past the sights, the sounds, the smells of the market. The poissonnerie, fromager, boucherie (including the cheval-boucherie) all selling their wares. Zach enjoys how they offer little tastes of their wares. He and I were treated to some roasted pork rib one day and we liked it so much we went back and bought some.

The other day, buying some Toulousain sausage (a long thick sausage that is coiled into a frypan for cooking and cut up afterwards), I noticed some boudin (blood sausage) and remarked to the butcher that I loved that and would get some next time. He simply reached over, cut off about 250g and threw it in the bag of meat as "un cadeau". And it was good!

And then the rows and rows of fruits and vegetables that positively radiate colour and flavour. Bénédicte, the chief of the household where we are staying, makes a fabulous courgette soup. She slices fresh courgettes, blends them with a bouillon cube dissolved in boiling water, heats the soup, and adds maybe a dash of cream or butter added just before serving. Miam (i.e., yum!)

Marc, the household’s number two, Béné’s number one, makes a fabulous dish out of ‘fève’. These are young broadbeans. You chop off the ends of the pods and cook the whole damn thing. It is fantastic – but make sure the fève are young. Sadly, it’s almost impossible to find broadbeans in their pods in Australia – but you can grow them yourself.

I love how the day revolves around meals. Marc and Béné’s home has a moveable population of between five and twenty people. At about 12h00 and 19h00 every day, everyone is called "à table" to enjoy a fabulous meal. Aside from those mentioned above, some of my favourites are confit de canard (duck preserved in duck fat and then pan-fried), cassoulet (a traditional stew of white beans, duck and sausage made in the south-west of France), patés, terrine, foie-gras (probably best you don’t ask), etc.

And then there’s the cheese platter. What Australians offer in terms of cheese is a bit like what the French offer in terms of beaches: you can see the resemblance, but it's a long way from the real deal.

A French fromage stand – even in a supermarket – offers a staggering array of cheeses: hard & soft; round & square; white, yellow, orange, blue; delicate to downright stinky, cheese from the milk of cow, chèvre (goat), brebi (sheep), etc.

I love the simplicity of meals. I think we have this impression of French cuisine being complicated and rich. Much of the time, it is fabulously simple. Good ingredients, simple combinations. For instance, there is hardly anything better than the French ‘picque-nicque’: a baguette, ham, fresh tomatoes and a chunk of cheese and a trusty French Opinel knife.

In this the French are very much akin to the Australians who love nothing better than a simple barbecue. Incidentally, some claim the word comes from the French: « barbe-au-cul » referring to the cooking of a goat on a spit and literally translated as “beard to butt” – but it is disputed.

Anyway, enough of this talk about food – which the French love to do. There’s more research to be done, more tasting, more discussing, and so forth. And besides, dessert is about to be served!


(For more images made entirely of food, see Carl Warner's stunning Foodscapes: http://www.carlwarner.com) 

Tour de France '14(3): Snow & Andorra

Some days, the snow-tipped Pyrenées which mark the border between France and Spain feel so close, its like we might be able to touch them. But Zach who had never experienced snow wanted to touch it for real.

So, we headed out to Andorra, a little principality (like Monaco) of about 40 x 25km between France and Spain. Its claims to fame are skiing, tax-free haven, and third longest-lived inhabitants in the world (average of 84 years).

We were accompanied by two brothers: Jean and Blaise. Jean is a year and a half less than Zach, and Blaise is transitioning to young adult. Blaise probably only came in order to buy cheap cigarettes in Andorra, but it was fun to have him along.

The drive along the Ariège river towards the mountains was amazing. Lots of signs explained that there were caves and museums of human pre-history along this way. We didn’t stop, but it is nonetheless rather moving to think we were passing near to human homes over 15,000 years old with their artworks still hanging on the wall !

To enter the mountainous country of Andorra, we drove up a very picturesque valley through Ax-les-Thermes, a famous thermal spa resort town. The route then climbed by making very long zig-zags across the mountain up to the crossing into Andorra.

Despite the drive up being like something out of James Bond or the Italian Job (as Zach noted), the crossing into Andorra was uneventful. They didn’t even stop us. Not even to stamp our passport to show we had entered Andorra. How can we log all the countries we have visited if not by passport? Maybe a self-stamping point at the border would be good.

There were at least a few policeman/customs men standing around, but being a tax haven, I daresay the contraband is travelling the other way. This perhaps explains why our nonchalant, James Bond wave seemed to count for little.

Entering from the east (see map), we quickly came upon Pas de la Casa: big apartment buildings, lots of parking (for the tax free shoppers), and access to ski-lifts and slopes.

Didn’t work for me, and I was the driver so we kept going on up. We passed up over the town (more zigzags) and finally came to the Porte de l'Envalira (2408m) at which there were two service stations and a café. We kept going and started going down the other side.

Zach was being very quiet, but I became ‘inquiet’ (French for feeling uncomfortable) because we were going away from the snow - and I knew the snow was where he wanted to be! 

We passed another ski-station called Grau Roig, and came into another little village, Bony d'Envalira. Lots of chalets for skiing in and out of during the season, but not enough snow right now.

We decided to stop at a supermarket to collect the fixings for a 'picque-nicque' and practice our Catalan - the language spoken here. Our Catalan sucked, but we managed to get all that we wanted including Blaise who bought his cheap cigarettes. I presume that the cheap prices aren't that attractive to Andorriens, otherwise they surely wouldn't be living as long as they do.

We headed back up to the top and Zach got to see and touch snow.

Remember the first time you touched snow? It's kind of weird to explain, isn't it? 

It is said that the Inuit (Eskimo) have 20-50 words for snow (although it is disputed!). Australians, not surprisingly perhaps, do not have much of a vocabulary for snow: powder, packed, ice – or more simply, skiable or not!

It appeared to have snowed in the last couple of days because there were a couple of centimetres of light, fluffy, powdery snow over packed, icy snow. Within seconds Zach was making up and throwing a snowball. Then we pulled the toboggans out of the car and started sliding around on the snow. As we ran around, our legs plunged into deep, long-standing snow, our clothes got wet - and of course, none of this mattered. 

Zach wanted to eat some snow – which allowed me to advise him that Australian snow vocabulary does extend to include ‘yellow snow’ which one should not eat. Zach always trying to prove me wrong pointed out that he had poured some lemon Fanta into the snow and it was great! Sigh.

After our picque-nicque from the back of the car, I took advantage of the sunshine to walk up a slope to a lift station to get a 360 degree view of Andorra (see below).

None of the lifts were working anywhere which surprised me as the snow was good for skiing and the sun was shining! Ski season ends in March apparently. I guess it is like back on the Gold Coast – when you live on the beach, you’re spoiled for good waves, and only tourists would go out on a crap day. Anyway, nice walk, and nice view.

So, now we can look at the view of the snow-tipped mountains from the front door, and Zach can say, ‘been there, done that.’

Tour de France '14(2): Fire !

180 degree view from the front door (straight ahead are the Pyrenees)

We’re in Europe – so of course, we have to talk about the weather. It’s changing all the time, so it is the thing to talk about. But Thursday 24 April really gave us something to talk about.

There was a thunderstorm that afternoon. Not such a big one by Gold Coast standards. Just to take a moment out to boast, if you want to see a lightning show, it doesn’t get much better than we have in Coolangatta looking out over the ocean from our balcony. We can watch lightning flashing about for hours. And if that is not sufficiently entertaining, you can spend some time trying to console Zoey the dog, her shivering and shaking and tremors continue as aftershocks for some time after the storm has passed!

However, what France gave us was an up-close and personal experience. 

A loud sizzling sound sounded while we were in the kitchen preparing dinner along with a simultaneous flash of light outside was accompanied by an electricity outage. We mussed around, found the switchboard and turned the electricity back on. In the kitchen, someone commented on the smell of the cooking and closed one of the connecting doors to elsewhere. 

One of the other people in the house, upstairs, came down complaining of the smell of smoke – we told her we had closed the kitchen doors. She returned upstairs and then we heard her say, no there was really smoke. We all raced upstairs and could see through the skylight, smoke rising from the roof. 

We went outside to see that the roof was on fire (see Zach’s photo – the only one of the roof on fire!). A cast of us went running around looking for ladders, fire-extinguishers, hoses, etc. and proceeded to try and extinguish the fire while we waited for the fire-engines (pompiers). The house is some 10 kms from the nearest town, so it was going to take some time. Meanwhile the hose that Papa was using to put out the fire was leaking almost much as it was spraying so his clothes and he himself became soaked through as he did his bit to use water to douse the flames.

Fire engines arrived – four in total eventually – and took over. The roof over one of the bathrooms was completely destroyed and was removed, and two bedrooms on each side of the bathroom were rendered unusuable due to smoke, water-damage, etc.

Dinner that night was by candlelight. Our guests were four firemen who had stayed on after the initial fire was put out, removed hot tiles from the roof and generally making sure the fire was really really out. They also came back at 5am the next morning to check again.

Since then, we have had intermittent electricity which cuts out from time to time – e.g., when someone plugs a mobile phone into a plug to recharge and many of the appliances like the dishwasher are no longer working properly!

And above all, no internet! This has been a bit of an eye-opener. I have realised that the apocalypse in modern times will not heralded by four horseman, not even by the arrival of a tsunami wave, an earthquake, a volcano or even a fire. Rather it will be heralded by the eerie silence that comes by cutting the umbilical that we call the internet! 

Tour de France '14(1): Korea (en route to France!)

The view from our front door in France !

On our way to France, we had a one night stop-over in Korea, a country that neither of us have visited before. But there wasn’t much to see!
There was a heavy fog all around airport – we couldn’t even see the terminal when we landed, and the planes coming and going kind of appeared and disappeared in the mist. Very disturbing sitting in a plane taxiing around among massive planes coming and going!

The bus to the hotel took about 5 minutes and was apparently right next to the airport, but you wouldn’t know for all the fog!

Looking out of our hotel room window, we were able to see into the courtyard of the hotel and there were a couple of cherry-blossom trees blooming which were very pretty. I reflected on whether there might be cheries when Zach dismissively explained to me that cherry-blossom trees are not cherry trees. I never knew – I thought the cherry-blossom season in Japan was from cherry trees. Apparently not according to Prof Holden (Jr).

A pilot on stopover explained there was a nice walk along the street near the hotel and so we went out exploring. Still weird in the fog, but we found an Australian fish and chip shop which the pilot had told us about. Strange kind of blend of Korean shop and Aussie bar.

The thing that delighted us both about are short overnight stay in Incheon in Korea (aside from the dessert bar pictured!) was the friendliness of the people. The waitresses kindly taught us how to say ‘thank you’ in Korean: kum-sam-yi-a-da (no idea how to write it). We’re looking forward to our stopover on the way home when we might venture into Seoul and find a hotel there to stay.

Stephening Standard 2013

A Stop-Work!

Back in 2011, I experienced a mid-life event and inevitably, I bought a motorbike. Crisis? No crisis! Just something different and lots of fun.

Then in late 2012, my mind turned to thoughts of retirement. Actually, I had thought of this before, but when I discussed my idea of early retirement with one dear friend, she scoffed and said: “You have to have something to retire from – academic life barely counts as working!”

The 'Retired' Version vs the 'Working' Version

Regardless, when Bond University called for voluntary redundancies at the end of 2012, I decided to say ‘Yes’. Closest thing to a 'golden handshake' that I was ever likely to get.

Zach was a little concerned I think at the idea that I no longer had a job. However, I took the time to explain to him that I had retired and he seemed happy with that. 

However, 24 hours later, he came back from school with the pronouncement that I could not be retired, “you are too young.” Apparently the teachers had expressed some disbelief about my being retired. I sent young Zach back to school telling him he should ask his teachers about the meaning of the word ‘envy.’

Of course, I have not stopped ‘working’ completely - nor started working any more effectively. I am still working on wrapping up my Master’s degree in philosophy; my thesis is now about nine months overdue. With the help of a past student and tutor at Bond, I completed a consulting project down in Canberra which was great fun. 

Most importantly, the book The Other Glass Ceiling on which I have been working for some years with colleague Charles Areni was submitted to the publishers in the second half of 2013. We are currently looking through the edits and it is likely to be published later this year.

Outback Spectacular

Zach & Mary Poppins

In July, I took Zach on an outback tour during his school holidays. 

We first drove from the Gold Coast up to Maryborough which is the birthplace of both his mother and the author of Mary Poppins! (She was a rather prickly and difficult woman – PL Travers that is – and you will learn more about her if you go and see the film Saving Mr Banks).

We arrived in Maryborough and went to a pub for dinner just around the corner from the statue commemorating the birthplace of PL Travers (see left) only to discover we had arrived the night before the annual Mary Poppins festival - so of course, we joined in the period-festival featuring steam-trains and the many characters in the eight books about Mary Poppins.

We then drove up to Rockhampton, and turned west heading out to Sapphire just beyond Emerald. We stayed there for a couple of days allowing some time for Zach to find sapphires, and garnet and various other semi-precious stones.

From there, we drove out through Barcaldine (home to the Tree of Knowledge where the Australian Labor Party was born in 1891), Longreach (bit unnerving to see a QANTAS jumbo jet parked right next to the road with people walking around on the wing), and on to Winton. 

Winton with a population of less than 1000 people is located about 1000kms from the coast and was our western-most point. What do you think that Winton’s claim to fame might be?

(a)    first home of QANTAS

(b)    place where Banjo Paterson wrote Waltzing Matilda

(c)    location of some of the best dinosaur finds in Australia

(d)    all of the above

The best answer is ‘d’! Winton is a wonderful oddity featuring all of the above along with Arno’s wall (made up of multiple engines, typewriters, sewing machines, boat propellers, motorbikes and other oddities), a musical fence, a great museum and more.

Zach at sunset at Blandensburg National Park

In our great journey to the backblocks of western Queensland, we found interesting characters (such as Mary Poppins, gem-fossickers, grey nomads and various assorted outback characters), buried treasures (sapphires, garnets, boulder opals), wildlife (alive, recently dead and ancient), and much more besides (hot artesian spring spas, agricultural machinery displays, Aboriginal artefacts, etc).

France, Hawaii, Turkey

I was invited to visit the Grenoble Ecole de Management in May, and flew over to France to give a talk and visit the school. I was super-impressed and would love to find myself a partial appointment there if possible.

Another trip in August took me to Hawaii to a conference, but also allowed me to engage in all the great activities offered in Hawaii – hiking, running, swimming, surfing, kiteboarding, SUPing, etc.

The BIG trip abroad this year was when I skippered a 49’ yacht in a ‘blue cruise’ along the Turkish coast with my Dad as my first mate. He unfortunately got Turkey-tummy (maybe scurvy, or alcohol-poisoning, or giardia), but once that was cured, he was on a roll. Details and images of this trip appear in a separate post below.

Plans for 2014

I will be teaching from January to April (as an 'adjunct' or 'sessional' teacher), I plan to spend three months in France with Zach (April-June), another two months near Delhi, India teaching (Aug-Oct). 

Zach is aiming to complete his primary schooling this year and advancing to high school (year 7) next year.

Zach going the way of the dinosaurs

A turquoise holiday: dreaming beyond blue

Unnamed Bay near Ekincik

There is something very special about the colour blue. It is so very calming and yet extraordinarily exotic - think lapis lazuli.

A sailing trip is the idyllic dream vacation because there is nothing more serene than navigating the blue hues created in the spaces between the sky and the sea.

However, I recently joined a yacht rally in Turkey, and it simply ‘blue’ me away.

The Turkish yacht rally was a gem, like the green-blue, aquamarine turquoise which is named after the French word meaning ‘Turkish’.

Turkey, despite its distinctive red flag, features a lot of blue. There is the fabled Blue Mosque in Istanbul and the ubiquitous nazar, the brilliant blue eye-design pendant to ward off the evil-eye.

Karaloz

The turquoise yacht rally I joined travelled along the coast between Marmaris and Anatalya, a route sometimes known as a ‘blue cruise’ from the Turkish phrase mavi yolculuk and a book of the same name.

The fleet comprised just six boats ranging from 40’ through to 53’ with crews of all types: old and young (blue-rinse to blue fingernails), old salts and young Turks.

Now normally, planning for a sailing cruise can be quite onerous exercise: finding charter companies, finding spaces, negotiating contracts, providing sailing experience, peopling the boat, provisioning, etc. Then there is planning the cruise itinerary which will generally require knowledge of the physical geography and weather, tides, wind and so forth.

By contrast, yacht rallies I discovered to my delight, are a breeze! Exactly as sailing should be. Someone else has done the hard work and there is someone there to help when need arises.

Once you have signed up, the only planning you have to do is dream. And no matter how hard you dream, it is but a watered-down and washed-out version of the reality.

The 15-day itinerary provided a wide variety of too-fantastic-to be-true spots from pretty ports like Gocek through to tiny anchorages in unnamed bays.

My favourites were the numerous little bays featuring a single isolated restaurant dedicated to serving the ‘boaties’ moored at their rickety docks or anchored in their bay.

Karacoeren

Yacht rallies also offer a more social aspect. While one boat makes for a cruise, two or more make for more social opportunities.

More importantly perhaps, two or more yachts make for a race! Every other day, a race was scheduled. Nothing too serious, rather more like a twilight series. Just with more sunshine, warmer weather, and predictably, more smiles!

Post-mortems to races were conducted in a strictly social manner over G&Ts (Bombay Sapphire of course). Just my style of racing!

On the other days, rallyers could take tours or go exploring on their own. Turkey is famed for being the country that bridges the east and the west. Ruins of Greek, Roman and Byzatine empires lie in literal layers everywhere, both above ground and underwater.

Other extraordinary features of the region include Lycian tombs carved into cliffs, loggerhead turtles and their nests, mudbaths, and hikes up mountains and into gorges like the “hidden city” of Saklikent.

Blue Grotto, Kastellorizo

One particularly spectacular feature of this tour was the 'blue grotto' on the Greek island of Kastellorizo (just two miles from Turkey). Inside the cave, the boat hovers in an iridescent blue ether lit from below. Swimming in the blue Gatorade water is a fitting way to complete this out-of-world experience.

For those craving more urban environments, all the towns and cities offered authentic Turkish baths (hamams), markets and shopping.

If all the choice is overwhelming, there is the opportunity to stay on board to swim and snorkel in the warm, sparkling sapphire water just off the stern of the boat. When is the last time you could say with a smile that you did five swims in just one day!

If Turkey is not your cup of coffee or doesn’t float your boat, Mariner Holidays offer yacht rallies in various places around the world (Caribbean, Croatia, France, Greece, Italy, Malaysia, Scandinavia, Tahiti).

Unnamed Bay near Ekincik

Of particular interest for the more serious racers is a one-design series in Croatia.

You could simply turn green with envy at reading all of this – or you could start planning and dreaming for yourself. 

Recent research shows that even planning a holiday can help you escape the blues.

Start dreaming in blue. Better yet, make it turquoise. 

words: SH

His favourite colour? Is blue! Like almost 50% of everyone else in the western world as it happens!

photos: PK & SH

yacht rallies: Mariner Boating Holidays

-        http://www.marinerboating.com/

-        1300 131 724

-        info@marinerboating.com

A couchsurfer sings the praises of the 'happy house'

Marie couchsurfed with Zach and I for 10 days in February 2012.  This link shows her report on her visit to our home - in both English and in French!

Zach's village including father-like figures

Zach has grown up between two houses and tells people that he's really lucky because he has two homes. Indeed he is.

In Papa's home, there has been for some time a guy called Karl who occupies the backroom.

Karl is great with Zach, they share a love of Star Wars, Marvel Comics and lots of other kid stuff.

That leaves me to focus on Papa-stuff -- like putting Zach to bed at night, and reading books together with him.  One night, we were reading a Harry Potter book together.

The scene described some of the kids taunting Harry about his fatherlessness. His father had died when he was very young.

The kids went on to observe that Dumbledore (the Principal of Hogwarts school) was Harry's substitute father.

I stopped and asked Zach if he understand what was meant by "substitute father."

Nope.

So I explained.

Okay.

Then hoping to extend his understanding, I asked him "If I was to die, who do you think you might like as your substitute father."

After precisely one nanosecond, Zach blurted out "Karl."

Ouch!

THE STEPHENING STANDARD : Taking a ‘Captain Cook’ at 2010

(For the non-Aussie speakers, 'Captain Cook' means 'look' in rhyming slang)

New Year With the Rugrats

To see in 2010, Zach and I found ourselves on the island of Rottnest in Western Australia. Rottnest is from the Dutch for 'rat's nest' so named for the little animals found then and now all over the island. The little animals are in fact quokkas, a type of marsupial. The other little animals that populate this island (aside from tourists) are flies – as can be seen on my forehead in the following photo!

On Rottnest island, Zach and I joined my first cousin, David (from London), his wife Marian (from Perth), and my first cousins once removed (ie, their children). Zach spent most of his time with his second cousins (David's children).

I take a detour here to describe labelling of cousins which may be something you have always wanted to know about but never quite understood.

Degree of cousinship (first, second, third, etc.) is defined by the most recent common ancestor beginning with grandparent (first), great-grandparent (second), great-great-grandparent (third), etc.

Removal describes the number of generations separating any cousins. David's kids and I are related through grandparents to me (making them 'first cousins'), but they are one generation further away (my grandparents are their great-grandparents), so they are my first cousins once removed.

A Grand Tour

Zach joined me on my annual trip to Europe in June/July. One of the big highlights of this trip for Zach was a day spent exploring a forest with two of his French friends, Jean and Thomas (who are I believe second cousins to one another)

In the forest, we followed various trails, picked blackberries (not very ripe), hunted slugs (various colours and sizes - feel free to ask for photos), listened for bears, forded streams, squelched through water, swatted mosquitoes and stopped to eat packets of crisps.

Another memorable moment for Zach was spending some time with my father and his wife (Pauleen) in the tiny village of Montcuq in the Lot region of France. I'm not sure if I will be able to do this again as I discovered that Zach was not only out roaming the streets but ripping them up (see picture below):

Other highlights were a v-e-r-y l-o-n-g train trip from France to Italy, a visit to Monte Carlo (Zach as a car-enthusiast was enchanted by this stop), and a stay in Varenna on Lago di Como to celebrate the 50^th birthday of a primary school friend, Kim Cramer.

Yes, we went past George Clooney's house. He happened to be there and hollered out to me 'Hi Stephen', but I told him I was busy and we kept on moving. I note in passing that George will be celebrating his 50^th this year (2011). I consider this another of his sad attempts to emulate me.

Semi-Centennial Celebration

I celebrated my 50^th birthday in August 2010 with a Hawaiian theme boat trip on the Tweed River. If you think you were there, but you don't remember it – you're in good company!

My father having donated funds for the libations for this party was of course put on drinks duty. I bought various drinks, ice, loaded them into ice-chests and sent my Dad off to the wharf where the boat trip was to start. He was instructed to offer a welcome drink to those arriving early for the boat trip. I wondered how Dad would identify those going on the boattrip to offer them a drink. Dad's response was straightforward : "If they're wearing anything that looks vaguely Hawaiian, I will offer them a drink."

It is reported that street people in the Tweed region have taken up wearing Hawaiian shirts since that day.

Meanwhile, here are two 50-year old reprobates (Stephen and Kim) talking about the problem of the youth today.  They're not only old, but they clearly have poor long-term memory as well.

Vanuatu

Zach and I travelled to Vanuatu in September to join my brother (Timothy), his wife Louise and their son Mitchell (a first cousin to Zach of course). We also had the good fortune to be shown around the island by a first cousin to Louise called Brian who lives on Vanuatu with his wife and kids. Brian introduced us to the joys of hydroponic kava – or at least, I reckon it must have been hydroponic!

I loved Vanuatu for its unpretentiousness and the fact that many of the people there speak English and French and Bislama and one of the many native languages. Vanuatu used to be known as the New Hebrides and has the rather unusual claim to fame as being one of the only joint British / French colonies in the world from 1906 until it gained its independence in 1980.

Brian and his family showed us many wonderful things on the island, but one of the highlights for me was the trip to a coral beach on the other side of the island. The photo shows (from the left) Jessie & Chloe (second cousins to Mitchell), Zach (first cousin to Mitchell) and Mitchell on his way out.

The Big Issues in Life

Zach finished Year 2 in 2010 and starts Year 3 in 2011. In the picture below, Captain Kidd, The Great White Hunter (Zach) and Hiawatha are in a serious discussion about the world's problems (how to lift the ban on fighting Kung Zhu pets in the playground) at Cudgen Primary School.


More seriously, Zach is probably telling them about how I announced to him that in ten years from now, we (yes, he and I) will be moving out of home. I figured it is good to get in early. I have told him that I plan to buy a yacht and sail around the South Pacific for a couple of years.

He was concerned about where he might go and asked if he could come with me. I said he was welcome to join me for some of the time. He then asked me how he might see his mother every other week. I guess we're going to have to do some more talking on this one!

Even more seriously, I have launched a website with my colleague Charles : www.theotherglassceiling.com. Visit to see what I have been working on for the last year or so.



Here's looking forward to 2011. I hope that you and yours have a wonderful year.

Stephening Standard – 2009

Happy 2010. I hope that 2009 was great for you, I hope that 2010 will be even better.

Attached, you will find a short update on the what Zach and I have been doing over the last year or so.

Zach does his commute in his sleep

Zach is a well-established bus-commuter taking the journey of over one hour between our home in Coolangatta to his school at Cudgen in New South Wales.

However, as our home is in Queensland without day-light saving, and his school is in New South Wales with day-light saving, the morning routine can be a little frantic during the summer months.

Zach began taking the bus at his insistence last year while he was still in his first year at school (‘Kinder’).

His first bus-driver, Bones (pictured) reports that Zach is very social during the bus-journey.

However, during the last 15 minutes of the ride home, there is no-one else on the bus, and Zach sometimes falls asleep.

On his second-ever trip, I had to carry Zach from the bus. Zach awoke as I carried him out of the bus and he announced how lucky it was that he had not fallen asleep.

Very lucky indeed.

Miles of smiles

Zach and I visited our dear friends, the family Larrieu south of Toulouse in July 2009. There Zach got to practice his French with Jean (both pictured below).

Zach who is very much into vehicles of all kinds was delighted to be able to visit the A380 factory while we were in Toulouse.

In 2008, Zach got to practice French when we were kindly accommodated first by the family Bitaud-Zerathe, and then by the family De Clercq on two separate visits to New Caledonia.

While sitting in the airport lounge in New Caledonia on our return from one of these trips, Zach was asking about which airline we would be taking for our return journey.

He recognised Qantas, I pointed out Air Calin and Air New Zealand to him.

Then, in the clear innocent voice that only a young boy can produce, Zach made a curious observation : “There aren’t many virgins here, are there Papa?” (Zach was referring to the Australian/Oceanic airline Virgin-Blue, part of Branson’s Virgin Group.)

That’s right Zach, our work here is done. Time for us to go home!

Couch potato to super-hero
Zach has applied for the position of couch-potato in the household.

He is very fond of his television.

Despite a letter to Santa requesting a Wii, I am glad to see that the big old fellow did not oblige.

Accordingly, I’m always delighted when I can get Zach off the couch.

I was less pleased however when Zach jumped off the couch while playing and managed to break his arm.

Despite the painful break, Zach was soon back in action as a super-hero – albeit with a clipped wing.

Over the renovations
Our home has been under renovation since about mid-2008.

Our home now sports a wonderful new deck overlooking the ocean at Coolangatta. Come and join us for a drink there sometime.

The kitchen and bathroom have been re-done, a new bathroom-ensuite added to Zach’s bedroom, and a repaint in and out.

In his visit during last winter, Dad was put to the task of putting a mural on the garage door.

Here, Zach and Dad show-off his handiwork.

Other stuff

I continue to work at Bond University on a 50% contract.

In the remainder of my time, I do parenting, consulting, and writing.

I am working on a book project dealing with gender inequality with a colleague of mine down at the University of Sydney, Charles Areni.

Charles and I were students together at the University of Florida many years ago.

In my spare time, I am pushing forward – very slowly – towards an MA in philosophy and sociology.

I completed my 49th year on this planet in August 2008, and am currently celebrating the passage of my 50th year.

I will celebrate the closing of this my jubilee year around Sunday, 1 August, 2010.

Let me know if you are in town and would like to join me.

For more on what I have been doing and thinking over time, please visit my blog : www.insideoutsite.blogspot.com