The Opera House

Growing up, our house was run as a pretty tight ship. Everything got done ahead of time and in a fairly orderly manner. That is, everything except for packing. Whether for a quick weekend trip or a weeks-long journey, the packing was always saved until the night before (or even the morning of). It was probably an odd manifestation of the orderliness and preparation that yielded the seeming chaos. Though, of course, it was controlled chaos. Packing was planned in advance, but the actual act of packing was delayed until laundry could be squared away, meaning nothing would be left dirty at the house.

So, I think that it's a matter of nurture (though perhaps it's also ingrained through nature), that I'm leaving for Melbourne tomorrow and I have only just begun to contemplate packing. It's a four day trip, so I don't think it will take too long to gather things. But rather than focus on that, I figured I'd fire off a quick update as I have neglected to do that in nearly a fortnight.

Overall, the last two weeks have been dominated by work, and most any adventure that might have snuck in has been swamped by unseasonably persistent rain—as I write, it has started up again, falling pretty heavily out on the terrace. Of course, even with work, I have had time for a few fun adventures, including an amazing experience at one of the world's most recognisable buildings.

The Opera House

Few buildings in the world are as instantly distinguishable as Jørn Utzon's sail-like Opera House, perched on Bennelong Point in Sydney Harbour. While I had the chance to tour it in 2012, and it features prominently in my life—it has been, for six years, my desktop background on my computer—I had yet to see a show at the venue. And what better first show at an opera house than opera?

While I can't claim to be well versed in opera, or an ardent fan of the genere in general, the one-night-only show that was on last Thursday was the perfect experience; called "A Night at the Opera," it was more or less a best-of revue, with four members of Opera Australia performing some of the most well-known operatic tunes of all time, accompanied by the Opera Australia symphony. The whole evening was MC'ed by Australian comedienne Dame Edna Everage. Which, admittedly, was a draw as well, as I can't really see Barry Humphries having too many performances for a range of reasons.

Some of Humphries' jokes landed poorly, but all in it was an unbelievably spectacular evening of music and irreverence. And to say the accoustics and setting were stellar is an understatement.

The grand finale.

I was pleasantly surprised that I knew almost all of the songs performed, which is likely more a testament to the infusion of opera in pop culture than my knowledge on the subject. There were selections from The Barber of Seville, My Fair Lady, and Carmen, to name a few. And near the end Dame Edna joined in for a (horrid) rendition of 'Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better,' underscoring that it's not just jokes that fall flat.

The show ended on quite a high note, with six dancers mesmerised the audience as the symphony pumped out the 'Can Can.' It all lived up to its name and was truly a night at the opera.

Some serious opera action.

Some not-so-serious opera action with Dame Edna.

The pandemonium of the Can Can.

Of course, it was also a treat to just be in the opera house. And at interval (what they call intermission down here), it was nice to step out on the terrace and soak in the harbour views.

On the terrace of the Opera House.

The view of the Harbour Bridge.

Brushing up on high school literature

Last week also offered another bit of cultural immersion, though this one differed greatly from the night at the opera. A group of us headed over to an old industrial space in St. Peters to attend an interactive show based on the works of Edgar Allen Poe.

Called A Midnight Visit, it was less show and more experience. The audience basically wandered through the two-story set as actors played out scenes and even sucked unsuspecting passers-by into the drama. It was quite an interesting experience, and required me to dig deep into my high school literature knowledge to understand the references being made. Don't tell my lit teachers, but I think I missed far more than I understood.

The best part of the evening was finding a secret little bar tucked off of King Street in Newtown. Hidden behind the facade of an old meat market, the bar had a distinct New Orleans vibe, which was a welcome surprise.

Daylight Savings

Last weekened, Australia sprang forward for daylight savings. Well, in true Australian fashion, not everyone sprang forward as Queensland, the Northern Territory, or Western Australia. And this results in an already convoluted time situation becoming downrigh outrageous, exacerbating the difficulties of half-hour time zone differences. I think a map illustrates it best:

The current state of Australian time.

As you can see, there are five different times going on in Australia right now, with the central part of the middle of the country actually ahead of the northern part of the east coast by half an hour, while the top end is behind Sydney and Melbourne by an hour-and-a-half. Absurd. But these are the same people who can't decide on holidays.

I may complain about the silliness of the different time zones, but I definitely won't complain about having light again in the evenings. On Monday, I took advantage of the new-found brightness after work and took a stroll across the Bridge, enjoying a bit of respite from the rain.

Peak hour on the harbour, with seven ferries rounding the Opera House heading to and from the terminals at Circular Quay.

This weekend will be a welcome break from the hecticness of the last two weeks, and I will be down in Melbourne into the work week to do some guest crits at Monash University.

I'll be sure to do an update after the weekend, but, for now, I think it's bed time. I'll just pack in the morning.