'There are two motives for reading a book: one, that you enjoy it; the other, that you can boast about it'. Bertrand Russell

I have to commute on the bus to college, which is usually a twenty minute journey each way. I therefore decided

to put this time to good use, and am working my way through some fabulous books. Middlemarch was surprisingly good motivation for getting out of bed in the morning!

As I’m about half way through my time here I thought it would be good to give my (short) reviews on the reads so far. Looking at the BBC Big Read list, I have now read 25 out of the top 50 books (34 out of the top 100) and hope to increase this even more by the end of the year. I admit Joanne Harris and Dan Brown aren’t on that list, but some light relief has to be allowed. The story so far:

Angels and Demons, Dan Brown

Fast, exhilarating, easy read.

Gentleman and Players, Joanne Harris

Clever, beautiful, nostalgic, but also frightening. She paints great pictures of life in different environments, this time a snobbish boy’s grammar school.

The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini

Gruelling yet wonderful, it made me appreciate my life.

The Lollipop Shoes, Joanne Harris

Magic, chocolate, Paris, pretty shoes, romance…what more can I want from a novel? It’s the sequel to Chocolat so while I’m here I’ll make the point that, much as I love the film, the book of Chocolat is far superior (as always).

(Select short stories from) Jigs and Reels, Joanne Harris

Had it by my bedside but didn’t manage to finish them all before it was due back at the library, and no great desire to renew. Some fabulously quirky ideas, but not many of the stories were satisfying at the end (a common problem with short stories).

Middlemarch, George Elliot

Jane Austen’s plots with Emily Bronte’s passion. Funny and sometimes frustrating, but a joy to read, I loved the characters and highly recommend it. Don’t be put off by its size!

Watership Down, Richard Adams

Stick with it and you’ll end up living and breathing the life of those rabbits. I don’t often like it when stories/poems are inserted into novels, but the sections where the rabbits were telling their folklore were as enjoyable as the main plot. Lovely.

Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams

I’ll let you know when I’ve finished it…

R.E.S.P.E.C.T

I could hear the toddler screaming as we pulled up to Central Station, and the words of warning ‘now people on the bus don’t want to hear this. Let’s be quiet now…’

After getting her double buggy carrying two little ones onto the bus, the mother coaxed the toddler to follow her on. He was all tears and pleas, but she remained calm, repeating herself ‘we don’t want to upset the other passengers now do we, and the driver has to concentrate, so let’s be quiet now.’

After sitting behind their little party for a couple of minutes I gathered she’d confiscated a toy, and he was allowed it back on Tuesday (two days time). She was brilliant at dealing with his pleas, saying simply that he’d had plenty of warnings, he could have it back on Tuesday, no more discussion on it, and he was allowed to be angry but had to be quiet else he’d have to wait until Wednesday. After counting to three she proceeded to distract him and the other two children by pointing out all sights on the way home: the library, the university, the church, an aeroplane…

The toddler started to play up again as we passed the shopping centre, but sticking to her tactics she talked to him like a little adult, and it worked like a charm.

I’ve seen other not so good examples on my bus journeys, believe me. You know the battle’s lost when the parent ends up shouting as loud as the child. I admire the mothers who are as patient as she, and who hold to their word rather than give in to tantrums. Infinite respect.

Christmas is coming, the Goose is getting fat

But do I really want to eat roast goose when it’s thirty degrees outside? It just doesn’t seem quite right; Christmas trees, tinsel, lights, and sunshine.

Christmas celebrations derived from a pagan festival, which used to cheer people up in the dark days of winter. In England, where December is cold and dark, bright lights and warming feasts make a lot of difference. The food of Christmas is designed to bolster and comfort: roast dinners, spicy fruit, warming liqueurs, and of course mulled wine.

In Sydney, where it doesn’t get dark until late evening, Christmas lights seem a bit of a waste. When it’s hot outside I don’t feel like eating mince pies unless they’re with ice cream. In fact, with the prospect of wearing a bikini always around the corner I don’t want to feast on food at all.

The trees all have their leaves, so there’s no real need for the evergreen Christmas trees and wreaths. Despite this, Australia still retains the Victorian British traditions of Christmas, but it lacks the atmosphere. The wrapping paper is still decorated with snowflakes, and Father Christmas still wears furs (though this could be argued is because he’s from the North Pole).

I don’t mind really. I’m enjoying the Australian summer and would be more at risk from homesickness if it was a fully atmospheric English style Christmas. And I fully intend to eat mince pies and Christmas cake galore when Christmas actually arrives. Perhaps it’ll be colder in New Zealand, where I’m heading in a weeks time.

Merry Christmas one and all!

My good opinion once lost is NOT lost forever

In Bend it like Beckham her accent was decidedly dodgy. There were far too many wooden moments between her and Orlando Bloom in the first Pirates of the Caribbean. Her fairly small part in Love Actually impressed me though, and her portrayal of Elizabeth Bennet in the recent Pride and Predjudice quite rightly got her an Oscar nomination. Ok, here it is; this morning I realised I am now a big fan of Kiera Knightley.

Those are words I never thought I’d type. She was the girl I loved to hate. Beautiful, certainly, but I thought talentless as an actress. Her improvement in each film has slowly softened my view of her, and last night I went to the cinema to see The Duchess. Nothing short of brilliant.

I don’t want to say too much about the film, as I want you all to see it, but it’s based on the life of Georgiana Cavendish, the duchess of Devonshire. Supported by a great cast, including Ralph Fiennes, Knightley made me laugh, cry, gasp, and generally feel every emotion with her. Fabulous.

It’s been haunting my thoughts all day, but now that I’ve written it down maybe I’ll be able to think of something else. Maybe.

Incy wincy spider, climbed up the practice room wall...

I had a little visitor to my practice room yesterday. After taking a few photos I decided to ask a fellow bass player about the danger of spiders in Australia. It turns out the spider I’d just been leaning down to look at bites, and it can jump…

Apparently nine out of the world’s ten most poisonous spiders are found it Australia. As soon as you mention it to an Australian, they’re quick to boast of a species called the white tailed spider whose venom eats away at human flesh. One person told me that you’re left with a permanent hole in your skin, and then someone else said amputation is the only answer. It turns out both are true. The ‘hole’ in the skin is described on the internet as ‘substantial recurrent local tissue necrosis with a deep rolled ulcer involving fat and skin and exposing muscle’. Yummy.

Looking at the internet sights, I don’t think I have too much to worry about. Most bites are not fatal, but just give a lot of pain. However, there is the funnel web spider which is found near Sydney: ‘male funnel webs tend to roam about, particularly after heavy rain in summer, and often wind up indoors.’ The males are the more poisonous of the species and their venom is highly toxic. Eeek. But they don’t jump, and there is now an antivenom.

When I returned to the practice room my huntsman friend had disappeared. I was rather wary for the rest of the day when moving any of my stuff. However, I refused on principle to change practice rooms. I’ve never allowed a spider to dictate my movements before, and I’m not going to start now. So there.

Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Stravinsky...who comes next?

Throughout history music has been used with the other arts to create entertainment. Opera was a popular amusement of past times, and the modern day equivalent would have to be film. The audience are allowed to sit and allow the sights and sounds to tell them a story. Film music is often looked down upon by classically trained musicians, but I love it. In my opinion, Howard Shore and John Williams bring orchestral music to the masses, just as Mozart and Wagner did in their time with opera.

I recently discovered a new channel for orchestral music. For some people, it is not enough to be stimulated by just sight and sound. They have to actually be involved in the action, and to dictate the events. I am of course talking about the world of computer games. Through my brother and his friends I was given a glimpse of this massive industry. They used to spend weekends in Oxford at LAN parties (local area network parties) where a hall full of young men would link their computers and play games against each other almost non-stop for 48 hours.

It can get a lot bigger than that though, and the music industry is catching on to this fact. A couple of years ago two orchestral concerts were performed in Sydney and Melbourne which sold out weeks in advance and still had people queuing on the day. They were concerts of the music used in computer games. A similar series was held at the Festival Hall in London last year.

When I heard of this, I imagined orchestral arrangements of the electronic music in games like sonic the hedgehog; not great concert material. However, after last week I can now say I understand the art of the modern computer game’s soundtrack, and therefore the appeal. A major games company, Blizzard, is releasing an album of their music, and I was hired to do one of the recording sessions. I spent the day at Fox studios in Sydney, recording two tracks.

Those of you who watch film DVD extras will have seen images of the recording studios where the music soundtrack is created. Picture a whole orchestra wearing headphones, listening to a click track to keep in time, surrounded by wires and microphones, and with a conductor at the front. This is what I did last Monday. A darkened booth to the side contained the composer and recording engineers, who communicated to the orchestra via the conductor, who heard them in an earpiece. It was quite disconcerting when the conductor first started conversing with the almighty shadows from the booth, rather like when you see someone talking to themselves and then realise they are not mad but just on a hands-free phone.

As for the music itself, I really enjoyed playing it. Good tunes, lots of loud bits, and excellent basslines. It had a lot in common with film scores such as Lord of the Rings, which are often a lot more fun to play than a lot of the ‘proper’ classical music of our time (weird dissonant compositions where if you can spot a melody you’re lucky). No, if computer games and film scores are the future of popular orchestral music I’m not complaining. In fact, I think I might buy the album of Diablo 3 when it comes out.

Hail to the bus driver, bus driver, bus driver...

Something which struck me in the first few days I arrived here was the pleasant Sydney bus drivers. It sounds a trivial thing, but it makes such a difference to the feel of a city if when boarding a bus you are welcomed with a smile and maybe a vocal greeting. Passengers do not hesitate to ask the driver questions about the destination of the bus, and if it is not the correct bus the driver will more often than not give directions to the right one. The pleasantries are reciprocated by passengers, as it is normal practice when getting off a bus to call ‘Thanks driver.’
I suppose the only other place I’ve used public buses on a regular basis is in London. The London bus system requires the passenger to buy a ticket before boarding, which seems to create the impression that there should not be any communication between passenger and driver. A lot of the drivers certainly like to encourage this practice with their rude and short responses on any questions. I obviously do not speak for every London bus driver, as some are very pleasant, but it’s quite a contrast to Sydney. I have actually found myself shocked when coming in contact with a moody bus driver here, as it’s so unusual.


I suppose that in a way bus drivers are ambassadors for their city. Who else do tourists and locals come in contact with every day? Shop owners perhaps, or taxi drivers, but their business may be affected by their manner. Not so with bus drivers. They get paid as long as the bus gets from A to B.


I cannot say for certain the reasons behind the pleasant Sydney drivers, but I can make a few guesses. The first is the fact that Sydney bus drivers are trained well. We had a talk at university orientation from the Sydney transport system. The drivers are well educated in the routes and zone system of Sydney, and are therefore equipped to answer questions from passengers. I suppose then that it is part of their job to be helpful.
Another reason might be that there is respect between driver and passenger. It is a relationship which seems to have gone sour in London, where I’ve witnessed many arguments at bus stops. Here in Sydney even drunk passengers at night seem to respect the driver, whereas in London they would be more likely to throw abuse.

The last explanation is the most simple. It is a fact that people are happier when the sun shines, and it shines a lot in this part of Australia. The passengers are happy, as it’s easier to get up in the morning when the sun shines through your window, and it’s easier to de-stress at the end of the day when you walk out of your office block/college into the a bright golden environment. I love riding the bus when the sky is blue, as everything looks gorgeous, and the drivers are allowed to appreciate that all day.


I’ve experienced a lot of new things since arriving here, but perhaps the most unexpected was this morning when an idea entered my mind; if bass playing doesn’t work out, I’d quite like to be a bus driver.
No, I must be more specific, I’d quite like to be a Sydney bus driver.