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Tag Archives: Sydney

The Schoolies ‘Wipe out.’

22 Thursday Nov 2012

Posted by gerard oosterman in Gerard Oosterman

≈ 30 Comments

Tags

Alcohol, Aldi, Brazil, Carnival, Parramatta, Sydney

The mystery of Schoolies and the “wipe-out”.

I thought I knew that our liquor selling licensing laws and businesses were seen by many in the world as pretty antiquated. I suppose it might well explain much of why so many young go well over the limit once unshackled from the final years at school and seek to wipe themselves out during the cultural phenomenon known as ‘The Schoolies.’ The ‘Schoolies’ is a three week festival whereby the year twelve students celebrate their final year at school. Perhaps, the prohibition is still lingering on here in Aussi-land and it all breaks loose during Schoolies..

I don’t quite know the origins of it or what the background of this festival is but I don’t think it has anything to do with Brazilian Carnival or running of the Spanish bulls or similar foreign carnivals. I can’t remember ever having experienced those year twelve festivals. I never went through year twelve. Perhaps that explains it.

There are curious contradictions in our alcohol beverage consumption. We are not exactly shy when it comes to getting full or even totally blotto pissed. Ok, it might not be proper here in The Southern Highlands to be seen pickled but even here not too many would point a finger at you if one occasionally did a Bazza McKenzie stained glass picture show in the taxi forgetting to wind down the window. Yet, to actually get the stuff, you have to go to specially licensed outlets.

The most curious outlets are our supermarkets. Things have finally been allowed to sell grog at supermarkets but the actual selling point still needs you to go to a separate outlet. I mean you still can’t buy butter or a long neck at the same time and at the same counter. However, here in Bowral the separation of grog and groceries have taken a small step forward in our Aldi store. You can buy butter and booze at the same counter. Amazing progress! It is ONLY allowed at counter nr 5. You can’t do it at the other counters and there are signs on the trolley (lockable and deposit paying progressive innovation, Euro inspired), warning you, that only at counter 5 you can buy butter, wine,  beer and prawns.

God knows how the Aldi lawyers must have been tortured through dealing with the ‘licensing police or board’. How ‘counter 5’ was given a license must rank as one of the most significant battles won with our licensing laws.  To buy the stuff, one has to still be 18 and only in approved points of sale. Cash register 5 is now a licensed venue for the sale of alcohol. Hoorah!

I remember as if yesterday buying a bottle of sherry for my mum and dad at Christmas time when still in Holland at age 12 or 13. I bought is at the grocery store but could also have bought it at the fruit and veggie shop. Even today, you can buy a Heineken or a latte in the train or at the rail station or at the newsagent.

I can’t imagine what the consequences would be if you could buy a can of beer on a train between Sydney’s Central station and Parramatta. I guess all hell would break loose and you can’t open train windows anymore either. Nor are trains provided with toilets. We must have camel-like bladders.

When I queued at the nr 5 Aldi counter with my peanut-butter and a fine pinot I remarked about the oddness of only being able to buy liquor at counter nr 5. A stern looking lady behind me stated; “that’s because only people above the age of 18 are allowed to serve at this counter.”  Somewhat flummoxed, I looked at all the Aldi staff and remarked that most of them would be over 18 and asked, not unreasonably I thought, what would happen if my grandson of 10 was helping me packing the pinot back into the trolley. I further asked what would happen if wine was also sold at cash register 1,2,3 or even 4? The stern lady rebuked me and said firmly;” well, that’s the law” and shut down the conversation by giving me a long and hard stare. She obviously thought I was a heathen and an alcoholic. I thought that logic wasn’t very forthcoming from her yet and decided to just buy my stuff and shut up, give it some more thought in the privacy of my car.

It is strange though. Binge drinking here, especially amongst teenager is a serious problem and many a future alcoholic must be in the making during those much accepted Schoolies. Yet, the availability of alcohol is so much more restricted.

So, why is it that in countries such as Italy or France where alcohol can be bought by anyone at almost all shops, day and night; yet, binge drinking is far less prominent? Alcohol is often consumed around the dining table with food and conversation. Getting inebriated in countries with unrestricted access is rarer and certainly much more stigmatized than in Australia were selling of alcohol is much more restricted at licensed premises and only to those above the age of 18.

Why is that so?

Bricks Over Broadway

15 Thursday Nov 2012

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Warrigal Mirriyuula

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

Architecture, Barangaroo, Brickfield Hill, bricks, Broadway, Gehry, Sydney, Ultimo, UTS

Triple Fronted Double Brick with Picture Window

Story by Warrigal Mirriyuula

You could say that Australians are known for their love of bricks and mortar. Indeed if we had a national building the way we have national birds, animals, flowers and the like, it would almost have to be a “triple fronted double brick with picture window”. We can argue about tiles or iron.

Indeed, the manifest for first fleet transport Scarborough sets out 5,000 bricks and molds to make more. No building tools though, which is an odd oversight on the part of the expedition quartermasters in England.

It was high summer when they landed. Stinking hot or thundering rain; a typical January. So no surprise that shortly after the Royal Marines barked at the convicts, to “get them tents up sharpish!”, Philip and the senior members of the colonial establishment noted that they better find a good source of brick making clay or the colony would be under canvas until such time as they’d determined which timbers where workable, or they’d imported a boatload of stone masons.

Given that even Philip would be under canvas, albeit a swanky prefab job costing well over a hundred quid back in blighty, and that this canvas didn’t fair all that well against the summer storms, there was something of an imperative in the search for suitable clay. Besides, building in brick would give this antipodean adventure a permanence it would otherwise lack.

The first suitable clay was found in what is now Sydney’s Chinatown and very soon several brick making enterprises where established in the area exploiting a resource that would eventually stretch from Elizabeth Street to Cockle Bay,  Liverpool Street to Campbell Street.

The boss brickmaker was a convict called James Bloodworth and he’s come down to us as the chap that first recognised the potential value of the many clay lenses in what was to become known as Brickfield Hill. This area was to remain the centre for clay quarrying and brickmaking until the 1840’s when the expansion of Sydney to the south meant that the almost exhausted resource was abandoned to the developing city and brick making moved to other areas, including St Peters where the remains of the brickmaking enterprise are still visible today.

1802 French Map of the Brickfield Hill Area

Note the two “Briqueteries” down by the stream. Also worth noting is the inclusion by the cartographer of the broken sandstone slope adjacent to the stream. These rough outcrops of weathered sandstone would have been common through out what is now the CBD. The road through the centre became George Street turning into Broadway. The area top centre is now the location of The Sydney Entertainment Centre.

Snap forward two hundred years and we find bricks again being used to construct one of the most interesting buildings going up anywhere in the world, The Chau Chak Wing Building at The University of Technology, designed by Frank Gehry.

The Chau Chak Wing Building (East Elevation)

With a budget of over $150million this striking building will take bricklayers to the very limits of their talent and experience. That folded façade, inspired Gehry says by the folds in the drapery of classical Greek statues, will be entirely composed of laid bricks and the building will have a view of what was the first source of brickmaking clay in the early colony.

A few hundred metres uphill to the south, on Broadway, a vast collection of old brick buildings has been removed to make way for another startling building.

This has gone.

The Old Kent Brewery on Broadway

This is coming.

One. Central Park, Sydney – Visualisation of Entire Site 

This building will give an entirely new meaning to “green building”.

One, Central Park showing cantilevered “Heliostat”.

Yes that is “a hovering cantilever” that will contain 24 very ritzy penthouses for the very wealthiest tenants.

What’s more, there’s this from the developers website:

“Here too, is a jettying heliostat – a beguiling assemblage of motorized mirrors that captures sunlight and directs its rays down onto Central Park’s gardens year round. After dark, the cantilevering structure (a favoured Nouvel architectural device) is the canvas for leading light artist Yann Kersalé’s LED art installation that carves a shimmering firework of movement in the sky and brings a new architectural shape to One Central Park by starlight.”

I kid you not. That’s what it says. I particularly like “jettying”, I assume from the verb “to jetty”.

There is so much innovation, so many new ideas, new techniques and technologies in this building that I still haven’t had a chance to go through it all. Suffice it to say that it will be one of the most energy efficient and sustainable residential buildings in Sydney; and for mine, the hanging gardens, which are an integral part of the water capture and reuse system, promise a building that will turn its back on concrete, glass and steel and present itself to Broadway as a giant vertical garden, a modern day Babylon on Broadway.

And across Broadway, UTS isn’t sitting on its hands either.

The UTS tower* and podium are also slated for change.

UTS podium development visualisation. exterior above, interior below

At the moment only the podium is in design phase. The tower redesign will probably have to wait for braver souls to green light Chris Bosse’s radical reskinning of the UTS tower, perhaps the most depressing and intimidating building ever devised for the toture of students. (Did you know that the original design brief for the tower demanded that there be no spaces where students could congregate in large numbers. It was 1968 and the French students where tearing up the cobblestones. Local educators didn’t want to take the chance.)

An active skin from Chris Bosse of LAVA

The skin generates electricity, captures water, moderates insolation and most importantly, entirely covers that grotesque ‘turd’ of a tower.

Talk about “building an education revolution; UTS will spend over a billion dollars in the next few years building in the Ultimo campus precinct, including the upgrade of open spaces where students will be encouraged to congregate.

Alumni Green UTS visualisation.

 Somehow this bosky park doesn’t look the part as the location for a student revolution.

Adjacent to the Green will be the new Science Building designed by Durbach Block Jaggers and BVN Architecture.

And if that isn’t exciting enough for you, just down Broadway work is well progressed on the ITE Building which will house what UTS hopes will become an international centre for excellence in Information Technology and Engineering.

ITE Building on Broadway

This “5 Star” green rated building will also have an active skin which the designers believe will deliver a 10 to 15% operational energy saving on its own. Oh, did I mention that the skin is laser cut with this really cool “binary” pattern? It is!

The “Binary” pattern of the ITE skin.

The interior is just as mind blowing.

Interior visualisation, ITE Building at UTS.

Puts me in mind of that other great educational institution, Hogwarts, and all those moving stair cases.

There’s new student housing and a host of other building going on at UTS all slated for occupation between the end of this year and 2015. This program and others funded both publicly and privately will turn the top of Broadway into what one architectural pundit called, (Hyperbole Warning!), a “mecca”, a kind of stations of the cross for architectural innovation nerds.

It may not reach such exaltation but it won’t be for lack of trying.

If we add to the already mentioned building sites, the Ultimo Pedestrian Network or UPN, (You must watch the embedded video here, http://www.aspect.net.au/wps/wcm/connect/web/w/spotlight/featured+projects/upn) , which will join the UTS campus with the Gehry building and points north to the Powerhouse Museum, including all the plans the state government has for the Entertainment Centre, The Exhibition Centre and Darling Harbour proper, and then throw in Barangaroo you begin to see a huge urban area in the throws of vigorous reinvention.

Barangaroo South Hotel Concept

 Unfortunately we won’t see this one. It’s already been shelved in favour of “The Packer Plan”. I guess that’s a plan for Jamie’s retirement fund, or O’Farrell’s perhaps.

By 2020 there will be no doubt but that UTS will have stamped its presence all over the top end of Broadway and in time this will lead to redevelopment of the entire area as clinics, labs, and associated businesses snap up remaining real estate to get themselves closer to the “glow” of the campus.

High density, low to medium rise apartments will become more common and the rows of remaining terraces will become gentrified, their values exploding as academics, staff and students look for somewhere nearby to live.

No longer the suburb that dare not say its name, Ultimo will have become hip, progressive, with innovation at every turn. The “shock of the new” will have become commonplace as Ultimoans wonder why the rest of Sydney are still catching up to the twenty first century

But in amongst all this twenty first century building will remain some of the most beautiful brick buildings in Sydney, other brick piles will be adaptively reused, while others are demolished and their bricks recycled.

The humble brick was there at the beginning of the colony and is still with us at the cutting edge of architecture. You could say that the brick has been “a brick” down the years and there’s no end in sight to its utility.

Sydney Technical College, Ultimo.

Bricks as a proud and permanent statement of the value of learning.

The Quay Apartments, Chinatown.

Bricks as valued heritage adaptively reused as anchoring feature of these new upscale apartments. That brick façade was once The Sydney No. 2 Poultry Market.

Bricks and lace, Ultimo.

The ubiquitous terrace survives into another century.

http://penultimo.tumblr.com/  This site is wonderful and rewards a wander through its many pages, including pictures of nearly every brick building in Ultimo, old and new, ugly and beautiful.

* Editor’s note:  I so wanted to describe the current UTS Tower – wherein I once did a course on Assembler Programming – as “Plug Ugly”, but I didn’t think the term was strong enough.  Nor was “nuclear-proof”.

Train Trip

08 Thursday Dec 2011

Posted by gerard oosterman in Gerard Oosterman

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

Bowral, Orient express, Sydney

The train trip.

We recently discovered an even better train service to the city of Sydney. It’s the 8.17am leaving Bowral but only has the 3 stops to Central. Not that it is much faster. Arrival is still at about 10am at Central, but at least it bypasses many stations, this gives an impression of speed without really achieving it. It gives one some Schadenfreude when the train races past many station’s platform showing a blurred image of anxious looking train travelers.

We undertook this trip yesterday. I got up early, made the coffee and some noises in order to rally into action my ever patient partner of many years. She knows my ways. Train trips I always look forward to as opportunities for new discoveries and are anticipated with great excitement. They certainly were in my youth when I, on numerous occasions, took boat Trips to Europe on Italian Liners belonging to the Flotta Laura fleet. After landing at Italy’s Genoa, I would continue by train, which at the time was the Continental Express. Mr. Diacomo from Cooks & Sons in Pitt Street always booked the journeys including the European Continental Express. The boat trip including the train from Genoa to Amsterdam or Stockholm cost 120 pounds! (240 dollars)

After we bought our tickets at Bowral yesterday, the train promptly arrived. It was a long train and surprisingly the windows were unscratched and carriages spotless. We noticed a few elderly couple who, no doubt like us, were scheduled to travel to Central Station.  While the Bowral-Central run is hardly in the same league as the Trans Continental (or The Orient Express) it is still a train trip and for the inquisitive can still yield surprises…

One of the surprises was the number of elderly couples. Where were they going, and why, seemed a question that I kept asking myself?  As usual with elderly couples, the woman partner seemed to lead with the male one happy to follow. Why is it that the ageing male gets behind the eight-ball in their final run up to the finish-line? Is it hormonal? Women tend to outlive males. Go to any old age retirement village such as ‘even-tide’ or ‘autumn leaves’ and it is rich pickings for any widower. The magazine for seniors is full of ads from fascinating women seeking living males, NS, ND, and NG but still kicking!

Back to the Bowral-Sydney express we discovered after arrival at the Country Trains Terminal in Sydney there were hundreds if not thousands of elderly couples, all carrying similar red coloured bags with ‘senior’s printed on it. My curiosity knew no bounds, especially when a live band was playing in that big arrival-hall, right next to the female toilets. There was a triple queue for the female toilet yet no queue at the males. This seems fair; if the female outlives the male there is at least some balance in knowing that outliving the male causes the female more frequent toilet stop-over’s in their dotage.

Anyway, the mystery of so many elderly couples arriving from all over Sydney and environs with those red bags did not get solved. On the way back to Bowral, there were the same elderly couples. The same dithering husbands, stooped with age, looking even more bewildered, skinny vacant trousers bums but resolute stout wives, indefatigable leading all the way. “Sit here”, they would tell hubby. After coming home I googled ‘seniors with red bags’,’ senior’s festivals’, ‘senior’s outing dates. All to no-avail.

We enquired about the phenomenon to our Norwegian neighbor. Oh, she said,” it’s the annual Sydney’s Town Hall music for the elderly. They give a live concert each year. We should make a date to go next year.

There you go.

Tom R.I.P (Amongst the bleached Bones of the inebriates at Orange. NSW)

22 Saturday Oct 2011

Posted by gerard oosterman in Gerard Oosterman

≈ 109 Comments

Tags

Aboriginal, alcoholism, Anzac, Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu, Herne Bay, inebriate, Korea, Korean War, Land Grant, Orange, Pink Floyd, Sydney, Wiragjuri

(A story; some fiction, some not. Tom and the many mothers are still everywhere.)

Tom, who was black and a returned soldier from the Korean War, used to live with his mother in Orange. He never did get into a decent working live and his request for a land grant was knocked back, as were all other requests from aboriginals in those post Korean War days. Tom could not even get a beer in a pub at that time. He fought as good if not better than most in Korea. He was fearless and when shot in the leg he hobbled on regardless for the next couple of days. Someone finally got him into a hospital. It left him with a gammy leg, a permanent limp.

When he applied for the soldier land grant he was told by the clerk,” bugger off,” “not for you Abos, mate.” Some of his white mates were given the VC’s for less fighting than some of those black ones. Even though Tom could not get into the pub, he managed to get into the grog quite well. He never figured out the one about the land grant refusal, somehow always thought he was part of the land before white men. It did not make much sense, but then again, so much did not make sense. Black fellas got killed in the war more than Australians, yet they were never rewarded for bravery. They weren’t even citizens.  That’s why Tom also did not get a pension. He  never understood the problem, no matter how often he asked himself or others.

His mum kept telling him “keep your nose clean, stay away from grog.” He only kept the first part but loved those brooding dark long- necks. Over time they rewarded him more than anything, even though it was of short duration. Each bottle set up the need for the next one. Tom drifted off to Sydney, camping along Salt Pan Creek at Herne Bay. He used to do short spurts of work, became an itinerant rabbito. In the evening he joined his mob on the creek, stewed up the left- over rabbits with pumpkins. The grog was also part of his mob. Many were returned soldiers but never shared in the spirit of Anzac, not a single medal. There was just this wrong kind of spirit; better than nothing at times.

Tom just idled along but somehow never got the thing about the returned soldier’s Land Grant out of his head. He would have liked to have been able to raise horses on the couple of hundred acres that so many white soldiers got after the return from Korea. Not being a citizen was a puzzle that never got solved, especially not when his days became more and more endured in an alcoholic daze. He used to pinch his arm, “yes, I am a person and am alive”, “how come I am not a citizen.” “What’s a citizen?” Apparently, anyone but a black fella.

He went back to Orange and lived with his mother who put up with his now deeply entrenched need for grog. He would be charged over and over again with drunken behaviour, disorderly behaviour, pissing up against the rosemary at the Town’s returned soldier’s memorial with the bronze inscribed names of so many brave but white souls.  White souls, the lot of them, and all dead but still regarded true citizens. All their wives and mothers were receiving pensions.

Tom’s mother was just scraping by with the help of uncles and aunties and assorted relatives, all without pensions. “We are from the Wiradjuri people; we lived here well before any white man.”  “Your grandmother use to grow seeds around here and we were the first gardeners,” she told Tom.

The coppers got fed up with Tom. It was too much. The Order was read out by the Magistrate; “Pursuant to Section of the Act, I am satisfied that Tom is an Inebriate within the meaning of the 1912 Act and hereby Order the Inebriate to be placed in a licensed institute for the remainder of his life”, or, till he is deemed cured. The chief constable with a grin on his face led Tom downstairs to his fate. Tom mused on the stairs down; am I now a citizen?

Tom was taken to the inebriate section of the mental hospital in Orange where he spent the rest of his life. He wasn’t even told of his mother’s death. In 1968 he finally became an Australian citizen and had his pension regularly paid out to the Institute. Tom did not get better nor did he ever find out why he was not a citizen before 1968. Over thirty percent of the inmates were aboriginals. Tom died in 1974.

Keywords: Orange, Korean War, Aboriginal, Korea, Sydney, Herne Bay, Anzac, Land Grant, alcoholism, Wiragjuri, inebriate

My View of Vivid Sydney* – Fire Water by Voice

21 Saturday Aug 2010

Posted by Voice in Voice

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Australia, History, Sydney, Three Bees

It had been billed as “a stunning re-creation of the fire that devastated the 19th-century convict ship the Three Bees sending its cannon balls blazing across the harbour”.

Loudspeakers project music as we arrive, soprano vocals and a didgeridoo accompanying each other in a work that creates the impression the composer intended it to be haunting. The Fire Water event location is a small indentation of Sydney Harbour near the Bridge. It is hidden from view of land except for a small area above the embankment around the tiny cove, along the edge of which have been placed several stalls in the form of small marquees a foot taller than a tall man. A throng has formed behind the handrail that delimits the stall-free remainder of the embankment’s edge.

The level land limits sight of the harbour to those spectators close behind the handrail. The elevated road a little further inland is completely obscured by a row of buildings, but a visual scan reveals a small pedestrian bridge and steps leading up to it, both of which have a partial view over the water. We position ourselves on the steps where some space remains unoccupied behind a lady carrying a toddler on her shoulders. Peering around the toddler towards the harbour, I see the kind of smoke you might associate with stage effects hovering over a small area of the harbour, confirming that this is a viewing spot for the spectacle to come.

White rays shining vertically from the water form a row of virtual bars in the artificial fog, which remains visible until the lights are extinguished. The music continues, its escalating insistence creating the impression that something is about to happen.

A full quarter of an hour later the waxing and waning music has created that impression several times, and the crowd about me is beginning to wonder openly whether the narrow view over the harbour afforded to the left of the last marquee in fact includes the main Fire Water display area. On the plus side for me, the toddler has been lowered to ground level. Seemingly a visual part of the fanfare, a single halogenesque white light appears and floats atmospherically back and forth atop a pole**. The crowd breathes a collective sigh of relief, and settles back expectantly.

After a while the anticipation subsides, and a laconic voice can be heard remarking that it would have been more spectacular to set fire to the marquees.

Eventually we see the frame of a ship emerging from the harbour. A lone figure clothed in naval period costume appears patrolling the deck. A spectator cries in mock alarm “He’ll be burnt alive!”. The same laconic voice as before is heard expressing the fervent wish that the role of naval sentry is being played by the composer of the music; another wit hopes it is the person who decided where to erect the marquees.

A small area of flame spurts from the ship’s side, followed soon after by the instantaneous spread of the flames to the remainder of the hull. The flames burn for a couple of minutes, after which the ship’s frame descends once more from view. The crowd disperses silently, the music proclaiming the same message but no longer credible.

__________________________________________________________

* The beautifully presented Vivid Sydney website describes it as “the biggest international music and light festival in the Southern Hemisphere”. This new festival featured four main events: Luminous, Smart Light Sydney, Creative Sydney and Fire Water. If time permits I will write a few words about the Luminous and Smart Light displays, both of which I enjoyed enormously.

** Photographs in the Sydney Morning Herald later reveal that the single white light marked the topmost point of the mast of a small boat being rowed by several men in the colourful red coats and uniform of British colonial soldiers. Apparently there was a whole lot more to be seen by the photographers at water level and the few hundred spectators along the handrail.

Pic borrowed from Time Out

http://www.timeoutsydney.com.au/aroundtown/event/10750/fire-water.aspx

Ten Mostly Mysterious Things to Me

21 Saturday Nov 2009

Posted by gerard oosterman in Helvi Oosterman, Ladies Lounge

≈ 25 Comments

Tags

clubs, dressing babies, Sydney

By Helvi Oosterman

We make lists of our ten favourite books or movies frequently.  At dinner parties we have light hearted discussions about which ten items we would rescue from a burning house or what ten things we would need to comfort us if we had to spend a month alone on a lonely island.

There are things that have puzzled me in the past, some of these have been explained to me; most of them are utterly trivial, some irritating, and all of them just a source of amusement to me. Here they are, not in an order of importance as most of them are not overly important at all.

  1. Why do we dress baby boys in blue and girls in pink? Is it because we are shy about asking baby’s gender, or  that we don’t really feel like offering to change baby’s nappy to find out the sneaky way…
  2. Driving through lush green valleys of South Coast, I see a sign indicating that I have entered the City of Shoalhaven. Where , where…?  Not a house, nor a shop anywhere, plenty of cows, farmers on their tractors, but churches or city squares, no. Same in the city of Sydney, you arrive in a suburb of Campsie and I’m told in smaller writing: City of Canterbury. Maybe you have a town , thus named in England, but this is just another suburb and the only city here is Sydney.
  3. I’m in somewhere, in someone’s office to sign some transaction or other; I’m well equipped with my driver’s licence, my passport, my rates’ notice, my husband with all his papers. This is not good enough; you have to go and sign this in front of a justice of peace, there’s a dentist on the second floor, madam. No way am I going to interrupt a busy tooth doctor at work, he doesn’t know me any better than this lousy clerk. Time to throw a little tantrum and time to ask his name and to call the boss. The boss wants me out and signing happens without any dental surgeons at present.
  4. I’m a member of a local club and showing my card, any card really will do as I sometimes accidentally show healthcare card, and yet the girl at the desk waves me in. If you are not a member you are forced to sign some papers, put your address in, just to have a chance to eat a bowl   of pasta with a glass of white.
  5. I still sometimes enter a chemist shop, where the chemist himself, the mixer of potions, stands on something elevated, on a kind of podium. Why? Is he better than the newsagent bloke next door, humbly standing there at the level of his customers? Is the chemist keeping a sharp eye on shop lifters; you can spot them better from his lofty position?

Now, folks, I need a rest and a coffee break; these baffling things take a lot out of you. On your permission, I’ll stop now, and if you absolutely demand, I’ll reveal the remaining five…

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