Post holiday blues

The last few weeks I have been getting back into the swing of things and life in Barham. After four weeks of non-stop adventuring around England and Paris and a twenty-three hour flight home, I knew to be on the lookout for the post holiday blues… it didn’t help but at least I knew to be on the lookout…

It took a good five or six days for my 24-hour internal body clock to readjust from the effects of jetlag. Long haul flights wreck havoc with the body’s circadian rhythms and I found myself struggling to stay awake past 7pm but then frustratingly wide awake at 3am. Happily I am now back to my usual routine of staying up late, getting up early and having the occasional nap at lunchtime.

No sooner had I adjusted to Barham time when the restlessness set in. Rather selfishly all I want is to head off on another excellent adventure. Already I’ve been consulting road maps to see just how far I could travel in the course of a weekend and wondering if a two thousand kilometre round trip would be excessive… as I eye off a little spot I’d like to see in South Australia’s Flinders Ranges.

Whether they are big or small, for most of us, having moments to look forward to is what keeps our lives so interesting. What I find so fascinating is the never knowing what may lie around the next metaphoric corner and the seemingly insignificant choices that can end up changing the whole course of one’s life.

Luckily for me and my current restlessness there are a number of things coming up locally that I’m very much looking forward to. Take for instance this weekend; our talented local thespians and dedicated production team of the Golden Rivers Theatre Group launch their annual play. This year we are being treated to Rodgers and Hammerstein’s 1957 stage production of Cinderella.

Richard Rodgers (1902–1979) and Oscar Hammerstein II (1895–1960) were an innovative and successful American musical theatre writing team with Rodgers composing the music and Hammerstein writing the lyrics. During the 1940s and 1950s they created a string of popular Broadway musicals including Oklahoma! (1943); South Pacific (1949); The King and I (1951); Cinderella (1957) and The Sound of Music (1959).

The team at Golden Rivers Theatre Group will be performing for six magical evenings and two amazing matinées, starting with tomorrow (Saturday) night’s opening performance commencing at 7.30pm in the Faulkner Pavilion.

Sunday morning I’m planning on enjoying an outing to the Barham Riverside Park for the annual Winterfest Market. Run by the Barham Festivals Committee and now in its twelfth year, the market is held from 10am until 2pm.  With something for everyone, there is an abundance of entertainment, hot food, quality produce and craft to choose from.

Imagination

I hate it when it’s dark and my brain goes, “Hey, you know what we haven’t thought about for a while? Monsters!”

The Greek philosopher Aristotle (384 BC - 322 BC) is credited with the traditional classification of the five sense organs: sight, smell, taste, touch, and hearing. Imagination is the brain’s ability to form images and sensations without the use of these five senses.

A well-developed imagination can be a wonderful and powerful tool when you combine it with positive thinking; anything becomes possible. Man’s imagination is the source of every great invention and every brilliant story… unfortunately it is also the source of every nightmare and anxiety attack. Both good and bad, our imagination influences how we feel from moment to moment. 

For some of us, once the sun goes down our brains go into hyper drive in their ability to imagine things. Often this is a good thing with solutions found, problems solved, great inventions and stories evolve… sometimes however a little voice inside our head whispers something about monsters…

From as far back as I can remember I have from time to time been scared of the dark. As a small child my sympathetic parents always left the hall light on until after I had gone to sleep. I have no idea what triggered this irrational fear of the dark but I suspect it originated from a scary dream and was fuelled by an overactive imagination.

My older brother Tom used every opportunity to encourage the development of my overactive imagination as only older siblings can.

When we were about five and seven years old we were given beanbags as a surprise present from our Gran. They arrived in our bedroom unannounced under the cover of darkness one night. In the gloomy predawn light of the following morning I made out two unfamiliar shapes near our wardrobe. One was large and orange and the other was smaller and purple.

While I lay in bed watching these unfamiliar objects Tom whispered to me from his bed, “They’re monsters… I think that orange one ate some of my Matchbox cars.” For a brief moment I believed him (he was seven after all). It was quite a relief to discover shortly afterwards (once the sun had come up), that they were in fact squishy sorts of chairs you could hide under anytime you wanted to watch scary television shows. Don’t ask me how those beanbags protected us from the daleks on Doctor Who but somehow they did.

Fortunately as I grew older I learnt useful techniques for dealing with my intermittent fear of the dark, namely hiding in bed under my doona and wishing I had a snorkel to breathe with. These days I find my most successful technique is to block all scary thoughts once the sun goes down… something I find far easier to do in my 40s than when I was 12.

As Albert Einstein once said “Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life's coming attractions.” …I’m hoping he was referring to cool things; like teleporting a freshly baked croissant from a patisserie in Paris to my kitchen table… as opposed to monsters.

Edgar and Annie in Paris

On Wednesday last week Edgar and I managed to successfully board the 12.24pm Eurostar London to Paris train. Travelling at speeds of 300km/hr, this 495 km journey begins at St Pancras Station in London; goes under the English Channel and resurfaces in France, ending at Gare du Nord in Paris. It is an engineering marvel that began construction in 1988 and finally opened to the public on May 6, 1994.

We spent over three days in Paris taking in the sights (I spent over three days eating croissants still warm from the oven of a nearby patisserie… but I digress). Thanks to travel agent Kirsten’s careful planning we were able to visit the Louvre and the Moulin Rouge.

Our first morning in Paris we got up early to visit the iconic Eiffel Tower (built in 1889 and measuring 324m high); having been warned to expect lengthy delays for up to four hours as there was only one lift in operation. We arrived just after 8am and already there was a reasonable queue even though the tower didn’t open until 9am.

In my best French I turned to the young couple in front of us and said, “Bonjour, parlez-vous anglais?” (Good morning, do you speak English?). Luckily for me and my almost non-existent French, the young couple were Nicole and Chris from Sydney. After a quick chat it was decided that Chris and I would go off in search of breakfast food while Nicole and Edgar waited in the queue. We returned before long with a couple of very fresh baguettes, some ham, cheese and a big bunch of grapes which sustained us all nicely until we made it up the lift and to the second level of the Eiffel Tower.

Edgar and I had to remain on the second level, as there were quite a few steps up to the next lift that went all the way to the top; at 115m the view from where we were was still most impressive.

In the evening we enjoyed a delicious dinner and an absolutely spectacular show at the Moulin Rouge. Established in 1889 the Moulin Rouge is a Cabaret or Music Hall. The artist Toulouse-Lautrec secured rapid and international fame for the Moulin Rouge with his posters and paintings. More recently the 2001 film Moulin Rouge! by Baz Luhrmann, starring Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman renewed the general public’s interest.

A visual feast of colour, choreography and dancing girls as well as a number of other entertaining acts, including the world’s fastest juggler, Mario Berousek. The show was non-stop entertainment for several hours and definitely a highlight of our trip.

The next day Edgar and I spent the afternoon at the Louvre with our very helpful multilingual French/Algerian guide Nabila. The Louvre is the most enormous complex and the quality and sheer volume of artwork it contains is almost incomprehensible. Originally built as a 12th century fortress, it was converted into a royal palace in the 14th century. The French King Francis I established the first art collection at the Louvre in the 16th century. One of the works of art he purchased was the now famous Mona Lisa painting.

As you can imagine there were thousands of people there, all wanting a glimpse of the Mona Lisa; Leonardo da Vinci’s famous portrait painted in the early 1500s. This was one of the times where Edgar’s wheelchair came in handy as we were given priority viewing in a cordoned off area right in front of the Mona Lisa.

Our last day in Paris was the 14^th July, Bastille Day. The French national holiday celebrates the 1789 anniversary of the storming of the Parisian prison the Bastille during the French Revolution. At 11.30pm we flew out of Paris as the celebratory fireworks began across the aptly named “city of light”.

We arrived back to Barham around 11am Monday morning and I stepped out of the car at Willow Bend and into the arms of Max, Sam and Henry. It has certainly been the most incredible trip and an amazing four weeks but at the end of the day, in all the world, there really is no place like home.

Touring England in a Kia

This week saw us collecting our zippy little six-speed diesel Kia hire car and setting out to trip around England. After watching the Korean’s Black Eagles synchronised fighter jet routine at the Waddington International Air Show I have a newfound respect for all things Korean.

After a traditional fish and chip lunch with Gary and Donna Brooks at Cleethorpes following a tour of the 100 Squadron museum at Waltham, we hit the road for… well I wasn’t sure where but during the course of the day we went past former RAF bases Lindholme (now a prison) and Finningley (now Robin Hood Airport near Doncaster), where Edgar was based in 1943.

Saw Andy & David’s Vulcan Bomber languishing with some mechanical problems on a runway at Finningley, so we stopped to take some photos. Continuing on we eventually found some lodgings at the Chevin Inn in West Yorkshire that unexpectantly but happily turned out to be a mere two miles from the home of Margaret Berry who we were meeting the next day.

Margaret is the widow of Edgar’s good friend and fellow Lancaster pilot Jim Berry who sadly passed away last year. During the war Margaret was a WRAF (Women’s Royal Air Force) Sergeant and watch-keeper at the Lindholme control tower. One of life’s true treasures; had she not been heading over to the south of France with her family, I would have kidnapped Margaret and taken her along on our most excellent adventure.

After a lovely morning looking at photographs and lunch with Margaret, we said goodbye and headed up to RAF Leeming, the home of 100 Squadron, Squadron Leader Bruce Farquhar and his Hawk fighter jets. We spent a fascinating few hours at the base and were lucky enough to see the last Tornado fighter jet fly in; its final flight before being decommissioned.

From RAF Leeming we drove towards the Yorkshire Dales and stayed at a traditional English pub, The Golden Lion in Leyburn on the eastern edge of the Dales. Our plan was to drive through the middle of the Yorkshire Dales the next morning but our plans were thwarted due to unseasonal flooding which caused road closures.

Not to be deterred I found a (goat) track north of the main road which turned out to be part of the Pennine Way (famous English hike). For the next few hours I felt as though we were on the set of “All Creatures Great and Small” and perhaps we would encounter James Herriot around the next corner (we didn’t). All we passed in the fog and rain were hikers, stray sheep and the magnificent English countryside until eventually we came to the county of Cumbria and the beautiful Lake District.

The 18^th century Brakenrigg Inn at Watermillock was our accommodation that night overlooking the beautiful Ullswater Lake. Before leaving the next day we enjoyed a two-hour ferry ride up and down the entire length of the lake. Of all the country we covered on our Excellent Adventure, the Lake District has been the most picturesque of all.

Last Saturday night we arrived at The Fountain, a 1769 inn at Ingbirchworth formerly known as The Rag & Louse. On Sunday we started heading towards Oxford and got as far as Shakespeare’s home, Stratford-upon-Avon.

Back in 1685 when William Shakespeare set out to London he was a young, twenty-one year old man, married with three children and no career in sight to support his family… I can’t help thinking he turned out ok.

Not far out of town we discovered The Blue Boar Inn near Temple Grafton. Established in the 1600s and now with free wifi (wireless internet…. is anyone else finding this amazing?!). 

After a delicious roast beef dinner with Yorkshire pudding we set about meeting some of the locals (Gemma, Sam, Cathy, Gerry and Chris), who were great… as was the Navy Rum which has been making a big contribution to this week’s column… hoping it turns me into a literary genius…

Tomorrow (which technically is last Monday to you dear readers), we will be staying with former “Cadell” jillaroo Sarah, who lives with her husband Tony on their farm south of Oxford.

By the time you read this we will be in Paris on the final leg of the EAAEEAE (Edgar and Annie’s Excellent Epic Adventure to England). Hmmm… I may need to change the acronym for next week’s column to EAAEEAP…

Edgar meets the Queen

Behind the Barr in Britain

Welcome to the next edition of the EAEEAE (Edgar and Annie’s Excellent Epic Adventure to England). Last week we attended a number of Bomber Command ceremonies and events.

Tuesday morning (26^th June) we caught a bus to the Air Forces Memorial at Runnymede in Surrey for a wreath-laying ceremony. The memorial at Runnymede commemorates by name the 20,389 airmen and women who were lost during World War II in operations from bases in the United Kingdom and North West Europe, and who have no known grave.

That afternoon we were to attend an afternoon tea reception at Australia House in London… but alas, our bus broke down on our return journey from Runnymede and we spent three hours by the side of the road. Sadly no-one appeared to notice that a coach containing forty seven veterans and their carers had failed to return to London, so we missed out on our cucumber sandwiches that day.

On the eve of the Bomber Command Memorial dedication Edgar and I were invited to a reception at London’s historic Guildhall (circa 1400s), where the Lord Mayor on behalf of the City of London welcomed the Bomber Command veterans.

The day of the Bomber Command Memorial dedication and unveiling brought weather straight from Darwin (a very hot and muggy 28 degrees). Edgar and I caught a London cab to Green Park where we managed to safely negotiate the security checks into the Memorial Area to where Edgar was being seated. Before I left for the Salute Area (where I would be sitting) I suggested to Edgar to “Have fun and shake hands with the Queen for me.”

The emotionally moving ceremony included the last flying Lancaster in England. The Battle of Britain Memorial Flight (BBMF) Lancaster flew overhead with Ron Clark on board and opened its bomb bay doors to shower the crowd of seven thousand plus people at Green Park with red paper poppies. The ceremony concluded with the Queen and other royals walking along the front row of the Memorial Area and shaking hands with some of the Bomber Command Veterans.

As I watched the big screen in the Salute Area I suddenly saw the screen filled with none other than Barham’s own Squadron Leader Edgar Pickles DFC and Bar as he shook hands with Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. The Prince of Wales and the Duchess of Cornwall, the Duke of York, the Earl and Countess of Wessex, the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester and the Duke of Kent were also in attendance.

The memorial itself is a magnificent design by Liam O'Connor and built in Portland stone, it features a bronze nine foot-high sculpture of a seven-member bomber command aircrew.

The following day (Friday), we left London for the 550 Squadron Reunion at North Killingholme with Monash University’s Associate Professor John Arnold (President of 550 Squadron Association in Australia) and Doctor Damien Williams (who is completing a paper on the veterans of Bomber Command). The English countryside was looking very lush and green as we passed a number of very impressive wheat and canola crops along the way.

Edgar thoroughly enjoyed catching up with his old flying mates and their families and was particularly moved by the effort the 550 Squadron Association had made to welcome him back to North Killingholme. President of the Association and Edgar’s Deputy Flight Commander in 1945/46, Jack Harris made a special presentation of a book and photographs to Edgar during his speech at the 550 Squadron reunion dinner.

The following day we marched a distance suitable for decrepit ninety year olds, to the 550 Squadron Memorial Stone, while the village residents joined us for the service in the rain. Wreaths were laid for departed mates and the BBMF Lancaster arrived precisely on time and made three nostalgic passes over the memorial.

On Sunday we had an early start with Gary Brooks (son of Edgar’s Mid Upper Gunner, the late Len Brooks), driving us down to the RAF Waddington International Air Show near Lincoln. We spent the day as guests of Air Show Director, Paul Sall and his lovely wife Kay.

There were innumerable spectacular displays of flying from various air forces from around the world. The Republic of Korea Air Force’s aerobatic team the Black Eagles put on an incredible routine with their distinctive T-50 “Golden Eagle” supersonic light-trainer jets. The famous and equally impressive RAF aerobatics team, the Red Arrows in their Hawk T1A trainer jets, followed the Black Eagles.

During the course of the day Edgar as a former member of 100 Squadron was introduced to current member and Hawk fighter jet pilot, Squadron Leader Bruce Farquhar. Before long Edgar had persuaded Bruce to allow him into the cockpit of his Hawk fighter jet… although Bruce remained unconvinced about allowing Edgar to take it up for a circuit.

However, Bruce did invite us to visit the current home of 100 Squadron at Leeming in North Yorkshire, so Edgar remains ever optimistic that he will once again get airborne in a military aircraft.

On Monday we were given a personal tour of the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight planes by Squadron Leader and former Vulcan Bomber pilot David Thomas and his good friend and Vulcan Bomber navigator, Squadron Leader Andy Marson. A highlight of the day was getting Edgar (for the first time since 1946), into the pilot’s seat of England’s last remaining flying Lancaster Bomber.

Royal Ascot and Black Caviar

Black Caviar coming down the straight at Royal Ascot

Behind the Barr in Britain

Last week Edgar and I successfully travelled to the other side of the world aboard one of Qantas’ massive Airbus A380 aeroplanes. The lie-flat seats of Business Class certainly helped to minimise jetlag. When we touched down at Heathrow we were invited up into the cockpit to meet our pilot, Captain Woodward. To Edgar’s delight he was allowed to sit in the “driver’s seat” and discuss at length the plane’s flying capabilities and technical details.

It is amazing being in London with all its history and magnificent architecture. This extraordinary city was founded over two thousand years ago and today has a population of nearly eight million people. Last Friday we visited St Paul’s Cathedral for a couple of tranquil hours. First founded in 604 AD, the magnificent present day building was designed by Christopher Wren and completed in 1710.

Certainly it is a building that allows you to feel closer to God. I very nearly got a whole lot closer… as we were leaving I wanted to cross the street to get a better photograph. Believing I was crossing a one-way street, it wasn’t until a loud blast from the horn of a large (and very close) red double-decker bus coming the other way that I realised my mistake. Was it divine intervention that allowed me to run faster than Sam Barr in his 100m dash at the Barham High School’s Athletic Carnival earlier this year? Or did I hear a mighty voice say softly, “Damn, missed again.” ?!

On Saturday Edgar and I dressed in our finest outfits and set out for Royal Ascot catching the train from Waterloo Station. The first race meeting ever held at Ascot took place over three hundred years ago on 11 August 1711 and was instigated by Queen Anne. Royal Ascot is held annually over five days with members of the British Royal Family attending each day.

Ron Clark and his family met us at Ascot train station and took us to the Macdonald Berystede Hotel for coffee and a chat before the races.

Edgar with Ron Clark

Ron and Edgar had both flown together in 100 Squadron during World War II and this was the first time they had seen each other since the war ended. We spent a great hour with Ron and his family before being transported to Royal Ascot where we joined 60,000 people who had also come to see Australia’s champion mare Black Caviar race in front of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II.

We spent the afternoon in the Furlong Club where we enjoyed excellent views of the day’s racing. Seats were at a premium so while Edgar went off in search of champagne I hunted down a couple of spare seats next to some fellow race-goers; I introduced myself to Aileen, Carol and Adrian who had come down from Suffolk to watch the races. They were great people and very welcoming, pouring me a glass of Pimm’s before I’d even had a chance to sit down.

Around 2pm the Queen, Duke of York and other members of the British Royal Family arrived in horse-drawn open carriages. Rain threatened but fortunately it held off until the Royals had completed their parade. At 3pm I left Edgar with our bottle of French Champagne and took my camera to the mounting yard to catch a glimpse of BC before her big race.

Arriving back at The Furlong Club (quite a distance from the mounting yard), I found that Edgar had managed to secure a prime viewing spot on the outside balcony next to a beautifully statuesque blonde named Dawn and her husband Paul. The atmosphere was one of extreme excitement and anticipation as the horses jumped from the starting barrier.

By the time the horses had come into the home straight the cheering had reached a fevered pitch. From where we were watching it looked as though Black Caviar had started her final sprint a little too early and suddenly the two French horses Moonlight Cloud and Restiadargent where closing the gap with alarming speed. It was about then (had I thought of it at the time), that it may have been appropriate for me to quote the line from “My Fair Lady” as recited by the late Audrey Hepburn and shout, “Move your bloomin’ arse!”

A subdued mood descended upon the crowd as we all anxiously awaited the results of the photo finish. The suspense nearly killed me and I along with the rest of the crowd let out a collective sigh of relief when Black Caviar was announced as the winner.

After the last race The Queen Alexandra Stakes, the day concluded in the finest of English traditions, with singing around the Bandstand. We were provided with complimentary union jack flags and songbooks with the words to classics such as Rule Britannia, Land of Hope and Glory and the British National Anthem. It was an uplifting experience to hear thousands of merry race goers singing along together.

Getting back to Ascot train station was looking like a logistical nightmare for Edgar and his wheelie walker amongst the thousands of people. Our new found friend Dawn came to the rescue and flagged down a police car, who then pulled over a hire car and directed the driver to take us to the station before picking up his pre-booked customers. Once at the station yet more police guided us through the masses and got us safely onto the train.

Our memorable day ended with a late dinner at the Wolseley Hotel, just down the road from our accommodation at The Royal Air Force Club, Piccadilly.

Edgar and I at Royal Ascot

EAEEAE: Edgar and Annie's Excellent Epic Adventure to England

Edgar and Annie’s Excellent Epic Adventure to England (EAEEAE).

While you are reading this today (assuming all has gone well), Edgar and I are now in sunny England. As The Bridge was going to the printers on Wednesday evening, Edgar and I were arriving at Heathrow Airport, 6.35am London time.

Tomorrow (Saturday) we will be attending Royal Ascot to see Black Caviar in her international debut, racing in front of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II in the 1200m Diamond Jubilee Stakes.

Hopefully I will have found a suitable hat to compliment my frock.

Max, Sam and Henry had suggested I take my Moulamein Races bucket hat. The idea appealed to me because on the plus side, a Moulamein Races bucket hat would travel exceedingly well. However on the minus side, it may not be quite within the dress standards at Royal Ascot… perhaps if I attached a wide ribbon in Black Caviar’s racing silks colours of salmon pink with black polka dots?

Last week I successfully managed to spend a good deal of my time in a state of denial and procrastination. With Edgar in hospital with a sore toe I genuinely thought the EAEEAE might turn into The Greatest Adventure… That Almost Happened.

If it were not for the unswerving dedication of all the team at the Barham Hospital and Community Health, in particular Angie and our very patient doctors this excellent epic adventure may never have eventuated.

It took me until Sunday afternoon to emerge from denial and bask in that warm fuzzy feeling that is optimism; by Sunday night my bag was packed (sort of). As I type this it is Monday afternoon (18^th June) and I can tell you all unequivocally that I will breathe a sigh of relief when we board the QANTAS flight QF9 tomorrow afternoon… and I sink down onto my very own business class seat. Wish you were here.

The Red Gum Food Group Festival

“A thriving household depends on the use of seasonal produce and the application of common sense.” Olivier de Serres (French agronomist sometimes referred to as the father of French agriculture 1539-1619).

Enjoying seasonal produce is one of life’s most simple and healthiest pleasures. Tender fresh herbs and baby new potatoes in spring, thirst quenching watermelons and ruby red grapefruit in the height of summer, Barham Avocados’ giant creamy Reed avocados and crisp new season apples in autumn and the arrival of mandarins and sugar snap peas at the commencement of winter are some of my personal favourites.

Beginning next Thursday 21^st June, our inspirational seasonal produce producing foodies, the Red Gum Food Group will be holding their first big workshop festival, conducting twelve different workshops and events over four days.

The impressive array of workshops include learning all about succession vegetable planting and composting at Barham Primary School’s Stephanie Alexander Kitchen Garden; curry making; sourdough bread making at Barham High School; matching wine with food; a winery tour and wetlands walk at Jo and Don Hearn’s Restdown Winery; talks by acclaimed food writer and The Age newspaper columnist Richard Cornish; a family (food) movie night at the Faulkner Pavilion; making pasta and cheeses; join a panel of experts to discuss Australia’s Food Security; cooking with fire… culminating in an undoubtedly hotly contested camp oven cook off on the Sunday. Organizers are hoping to entice the district’s many enthusiastic weekend camp oven cooks out into the open for the afternoon competition (you know who you are).

With Club Barham holding their very popular annual four-day Jazz Festival at the same time (next Thursday to Sunday), locals and visitors alike can relish food together with great music by attending a mix of both events. Food, fire and music, is there a better way to enjoy wintertime?

Next Tuesday if all goes according to plan Edgar and I will be setting off on our epic excellent adventure to the other side of the world. With the itinerary looking nothing short of spectacular… keep watching this space.

Attending the AAMT National Conference

A couple of weeks ago I attended the Australian Association of Massage Therapists (AAMT) National Conference for the first time. This year Melbourne hosted the conference at the Melbourne Convention Centre situated on the banks of the Yarra River, a short walk from the Melbourne central business district.

Like many other professions within the healthcare industry, remedial massage therapists must earn a specific number of Continuing Professional Education (CPE) points each year to keep their provider number status current with the various health funds. Provider numbers are essential if a therapist’s clients wish to claim a rebate from their private health fund following a massage.

There are various ways of earning CPE points: completing nationally recognised courses, training and workshops, reading industry relevant textbooks and attending the AAMT National Conference. With Melbourne a mere three and a bit hours away hosting this year’s conference I took the opportunity to attend.

Not wishing to brave the Melbourne traffic or indeed park my trusty Nissan in Melbourne’s CBD for several days, I drove as far as Bendigo. Many thanks to former Wakoolians Susie and Woody for successfully getting me onto the Melbourne train with two minutes to spare and Team Ware for having me to stay at their apartment in Kew, any easy journey to and from the Melbourne Convention Centre each day on the 109 tram.

This year AAMT invited Massage New Zealand to collaborate with them and the conference attracted over five hundred massage therapists from around Australia and New Zealand. There was an impressive line-up of keynote speakers who spoke exceptionally well on their chosen subjects, a total of eighteen different speakers and workshop presenters covering a wide range of massage and health related topics.

Former AFL footballer Mark Bunn was the opening speaker for the 2012 conference with his inspiring and very entertaining talk called “Looking after No. 1”. Mark had studied both Western Science and Eastern Medicine for the last twenty years and reiterated the importance of being in tune with our body clocks and looking after ourselves for maximum health and wellbeing.

Mark’s health tips included getting enough sleep at the correct time ie: in bed between 9.30pm and 10.30pm and waking up between 6am and 7am (easier said than done for those of us that like to stay up until all hours of the night but I am at least making an effort to incorporate this into my life…). He shared his mantra “Eat Light at Night”, suggesting it was far better to make lunch the main meal of the day. Having a smaller, easily digestible meal in the evenings is conducive to a good night’s sleep. (I’ve embraced the big lunch… although I’m still working on reducing dinner…).

Presenters Lisa Casanelia (remedial massage therapist and senior lecturer at Endeavour College) and Cathy Stanguts (registered nurse and naturopath), spoke about their involvement in a trial carried out at The Alfred Hospital on cardiac patients between July 2009 and December 2010. The trial successfully showed patients who received massage therapy following cardiac surgery significantly reduced their pain, anxiety and muscular tension and enhanced their relaxation when compared with patients who received rest but no massage therapy.

These favourable results combined with the positive responses by staff and patients on the ward has resulted in a permanent massage therapy service on the cardiothoracic ward at the Alfred Hospital in Melbourne which started in April 2011.

I found it particularly encouraging to hear of these trials with massage therapy and traditional Western scientific medicine combining to produce better healthcare outcomes. In the past massage therapy was viewed by many in Australia as a luxury treatment, something you got when you went on holidays. Now more than ever doctors are recognising the benefits of massage therapy as a complimentary healthcare treatment for their patients. 

Why scary playground equipment is good for us

Scabs… where are they now?

No, I’m not talking about non-union workers brought in to replace striking employees. I’m talking about those healing crusts that form on our knees or elbows when we take a tumble and lose some skin.

Up until I was the age of about ten I felt as though I had permanent scabs on my knees and my friends did too. Ok, that might be a slight exaggeration but you get my drift. Scabs were not unusual; in fact they were downright common.

These days you hardly ever see children with scabby knees and the obligatory yellow iodine splotches. Have our children become infinitely more coordinated than past generations? Is this an example of evolutionary biology at its finest? Is it the natural selection process that Charles Darwin wrote about in his landmark 1859 book On the Origin of Species? I suspect not.

I suspect it may be a prime example of how we are being over-protective of our children and how our children are being cocooned inside their homes with ipods and other technological toys far away from bicycles devoid of training wheels. Are we wrapping them up in metaphorical cotton wool in an effort to get them to biological adulthood in one piece?

When I was growing up a visit to the Hay Park with my Gran was right up there on my favourite-things-to-do list. At the very top of my favourite-things-to-do-at-the-park list was riding the whirly-gig. This awesome piece of mechanical engineering was the highlight of any excellent adventure to the Hay Park.

The whirly-gig was a giant circular platform that sat about twenty centimetres off the ground. It was made of wood and metal with handrails radiating out from the centre and could be spun around at speed… Chinese restaurants have a similar concept in the form of their circular banquet tables (minus the handrails). 

A few of us kids would grab a handrail each and run beside the whirly-gig as fast as we could until it reached maximum speed. We then flung ourselves onto the platform and hung on for dear life while the g-forces threatened to suck us off the edge and into the dirt… which sometimes happened. Every so often skin would be grazed off and very occasionally I heard of a child who had broken their arm following a less than graceful dismount.

Back then parents didn’t ever think about consulting with solicitors with the idea of suing their local council for daring to provide playground equipment that wasn’t one hundred percent accident proof. The parents simply patched the child up and the child learnt to hang on tighter next time.

Resilience is the ability to recover quickly from illness, change, or misfortune. If ever there was a character trait that could assist us through the ups and downs of life, resilience is it.

Accidents and mistakes are essential ingredients for developing resilience in a child or adult. Luckily for us we mostly seem genetically programmed to learn things the hard way. Children naturally want to push boundaries and take risks. By allowing our children to get outside their comfort zones we are giving them the opportunities to learn, enhance their self-confidence and develop their resilience.

Parents of today (me included), need to work on overcoming our own fears when it comes to raising our children and allow them to enjoy the childhood adventures we once took for granted. Climbing trees grows resilience far better than sitting inside playing a computer game.