Best in Show

On our return flight from Hobart, we were seated in front of a couple of ladies who were clearly 'dog people'.

Geoff and I, both trying to read, could not help but over hear their booming, confident conversation on every aspect of their dogs, dog showing, specific dogs, new appointments to the administrative bodies of the dog world, etc.

Let me put it out there right now - I am not keen on dogs.

I couldn't see the ladies but imagined them as very large. Actually, a clue was the heaving around and grateful comments regarding the spare seat "I'll move over after take off and we can have the spare seat in the middle. Of course regulations are that you need to be in your allocated seat during take off in case it crashes and they can identify you from where you're strapped in." I think these ladies were in general, all over regulations.

We heard about the half dozen leads one wanted buy, some leg pads for another dog (what ever the hell they are?), transport cages and a disagreement as to weather dogs know their own lead and collar and therefore each has to be walked on its own or, if you have a house full of four-legged-friends, does the nearest one suffice?

They were clearly well travelled - and much of it on dog-related business. "Last time we went to Melbourne we travelled JetStar - lovely planes but they don't transport dogs." We heard about trips to Spain, Germany, America and New Zealand - that dog world is big! I started to wonder if they were judges at international dog shows. Then I wondered why I was wasting my wondering wondering that!!

On and on they boomed, much of it complete inane and I was glad I wasn't back there having to feign interest.
"I can tell you what will be happening at our place right now. Graham will be on the couch with the TV on, and BJ will be tucked in here (I assume she was indicating some nook or cranny on her ample self), Stella here, Pepper* here and Poppy* will be right up here!"
Seriously, who fucking cares??? But no, the companion did feel the need to respond with what she thought would happening in her recently departed household at this exact moment as well.

I heard all about Ginger's coat. "You'll never see a better coat - anywhere. I've trimmed it all back. But it'll grow," delivered with smug confidence.

The affection for the daughter of the other's dog "I love that dog. She'll never win anything at a show but she's a great little dog. I love her."

And finally, breeding and pups. "I had a bitch once, she'd have six, seven pups and not a drop of blood. Not even a whimper." Wow. Now there's an image I didn't need.

An hour later and a mere five pages of my book read, I glimpsed the ladies as we waited to disembark, and yep, my image of Roger's mistress from the Schmacko's ad was bang on!

* Some names have been changed - because I can't remember what they actually were.

MONA II

I was a bit concerned that going back to MONA wouldn't be as amazing as it was the first time I went. Ha!

Sunday morning, feeling rather shabby after a friend's son's 21st at a fancy club in town, Geoff and I  headed to the airport for the hour's flight down to Hobart. We collected the Nissan Micra as I checked TripAdvisor and discovered the Daci and Daci Baker Restaurant was the second most recommended eatery in town - and my very late night/very early morning/too much alcohol state needed feeding!

I calmed myself with a bowl of potato, corn and bacon soup, a thick slice of delicious wholemeal bread with lashings of butter and a latte.  I was starting to feel human. Helped by the cool little jazz band you can see playing behind me.

Then Geoff bought me a cake for Mother's Day - a sweet thought, but I was still feeling a tad fragile, so we had to go halves (most unlike me!)

There was a bike parked beside the bakery wearing some knits - it was so adorable I took a photo to share with you.


So, on to MONA. We were booked into the Robin pavilion but were still too early to check in so headed into the museum for a couple of hours before our mid-afternoon wine tour. There were many that were familiar from last time but still warranted a revisit, as well as enough new stuff to keep me challenged. On of my faves is the 'I Love You Room'. The poetry is so beautiful and poignant it makes me want to weep - literally - which is a bit awkward. I can only read about six or eight at a time, and when I can bear it no more, I scuttle away. But like an addict to a dealer, I'm drawn back - for just a bit more. Here are a couple of examples I snapped - I hope you can read them.

Next was the wine tour. An amazing building, small production and old vines by Australian standards. There were a couple of whites we liked but on the whole, not overly to our taste. (As an aside, what was funny was we were told by our guide that the current owner of MONA, Moorilla Estate, etc bought the property with a hand shake at the front gate and a promise not to sub divide the land. We later read the estate had been bankrupt and sold off by the bank - not quite as romantic I concede.)

We checked in and it was still only 5pm, so I set off for a run in the gym, a swim in the pool and a sauna in yet another building in which not a detail has been over looked (except perhaps the environmentally- friendly lights that turn themselves off too regularly and spooked the crap out of me when I was in the confines of the very tiny sauna). I went back to the room to plunge myself into the spa, bubbling with Aesop product, sipping a Coonawarra red Geoff had ducked down the road to get, while watching The Block on the AquaVision waterproof TV and waiting for room service to deliver our Tasmanian Scotch fillets with steamed veggies. It was only 7pm and I was pretty certain I had availed myself of most of the amenities!!

Monday; and after fresh fruit and sweet corn pikelets in the restaurant, I was ready to go back to the museum (and the I Love You Room!) for another emotional and thought provoking journey. Check out this installment. I listened to the interview with the artist - he sounded so intellectual and the ideas behind it are interesting - but it just doesn't move me. I do find it curious though. It's  based around an idea of "taking your head out of the noose of history" - I'm still thinking about what that means. The head of the big worm is the artist, as he sees himself at 88, not his current 38.

After another three or so hours, it was time to eat again. This time the degustation menu in The Source restaurant. The waiter asked if we would like the 3, 5, 7 or 9 course option? In my mind, three was too few, nine too many - so I picked seven. And matching wines? Why not.  It was after all, Monday and the autumn sun was streaming in and I was still on an utter high from the morning's art feast. This a fantasy we were living - might as well live it to the max!

The top dish was probably my fave - organic green beans, fresh figs, olive liquorice, toasted almonds and almond foam (although I did think foams were now out of date but a second  appeared later - so maybe I have that wrong?). It was exquisite.

So that was pretty much it. I would thoroughly recommend a couple of days at MONA - it's not cheap, I confess, but you absolutely feel transported and the combination of art, luxury and food is balm for your body, mind and soul.

OMG MONA!

I was lucky enough to get to MONA on the weekend with one of my best mates, K. MONA is the Museum of Old and New Art, a new-ish establishment in Tasmania’s capital town, Hobart (it can’t be a city can it??). For those of you not from this neck of the woods, Tassie is the island state that hangs off the bottom of Australia. In fact, when people asked where we were from, the usual joke was “Australia”.

We flew down Friday afternoon. All week I’d been picturing us, decadently sipping bubbles in the business lounge, awaiting our flight. But sadly we were on the discount airline, greeted with “You have one minute to check in – you’re late!” and sent to the basement departure gate that smelt like wet carpet…. never mind, we were on our way! And thankfully could purchase a suitable (ie alcoholic) beverage on the plane.

Saturday morning had us on the first ferry to MONA – a slick white catamaran that served lattes and delicious baked goodies. We arrived, climbed the many stairs and we were away….

We took the advice of the staff and took the spiral stair case down the shaft that has been carved out of the sandstone cliff. The building itself is a visual feast worthy of time to wander and admire its perfect design, grandeur and masculinity. Vaulted walls of sheered sandstone are a perfect backdrop to the weathered steel stairs and ramps, and suddenly contrast with low, industrial-like gridded concrete ceilings. 

If the building is a visual feast, the art is a banquet for the mind. So many provocative ideas expressed in so many different ways. There are some Australian legends like Boyd and Nolan, ancient pieces from Egypt and Greece and an array of modern installations that explore topics as diverse as transgenderism, terrorism, euthanasia, poverty, all kinds of sexual behaviour including bestiality, presence, truth, the Dreamtime, rape as a war crime, religion, space, knowledge and race. No topic is taboo. (And probably not an outing for the kids....)

There are bean bags to lie in to watch ‘Pickled Porn’ projected onto the ceiling and several interactive exhibits (I won’t spoil it all for you). You navigate with an iPod like device that works out where you are and shows the art around you. Tap the picture and can you can read the title, artist, the idea, the ‘art wank’ or the layman’s point of view. You can hear interviews with the artist and in some cases, sound tracks that go with the piece. You even get to tap ‘Love’ or ‘Hate’.

The most hated piece is a machine that replicated the human digestive system. It’s fed twice a day and poos on to a plate at 2pm. We caught that bit… you could almost chew the smell it was so thick! The artist describes his work as a parody to all that crap that art often is. And is that art? Who knows but it certainly gets you thinking.

Look closely - it is a plate of machine poo.

If you ever get the chance, it’s well worth the trip.