Muttart Conservatory in Edmonton

Muttart Conservatory.

Four rooms of pyramidal shape. Each pyramid contains plants from different environments. 

Edmonton

 Edmonton is cold, snowy and photogenic. The River is beginning to lose its icy surface.

Vancouver to Edmonton

 Travel by plane from Vancouver to Edmonton.

Arrive with light fluffy snow.

Edmonton where Pam, George and Neyland live. 

Vancouver

Vancouver is a major city in the province of British Columbia.

Vancouver is a busy port between the Pacific Ocean and the Rockies.

Population 700,00

Ethnically very diverse. 

Everybody has to have a want

 Everybody has to have a want.

That’s all I can say

I dream of the day.

The ducks line up.

I just wanna play.

My numbers come out.

Backflip and shout.

Hey, hey, hey.

That’s all I can say.

A weatherboard house.

For me and my spouse.

A garage for me and my tools.

They are my precious jewels.

Smell the BBQ on the deck.

Mulberries fall mulberries wreck

the freshly mowed green lawn.

Roses smile for me at dawn.

 

Play footy with my mates.

We all control our fates.

Handpassing, yelling, tackling.

All our knees and heads are crackling

shepherding and kicking.

We’re all together clicking.

In the grand final. BOG.

Sing the team song. Sing with glee.

 

Heads turn and follow my car.

Honing across the sizzling tar.

The latest model in our town.

With the roof pulled all the way down.

It’s crimson candy red.

It’s turning each and every head.

I give them loud music blaring.

Watch them all staring.

 

Open the front gate.

Greeted by my wagging barking mate.

He stands on his back feet.

A warm and wet and mushy greet.

 

My perfect partner fills a gap.

She sits contently on my lap.

For years I’ve been trying to find.

Someone always this nice and kind.

 

 

The Derwent laps the hills near Hobart. Part 3

 

The Derwent laps the hills near Hobart. Effortlessly turning grassland into a flooded river bed. The Derwent doesn’t run swiftly. People sail on it. A few people row on it. Regatta Day attempts to make The River the heart of this city. The River Derwent is Hobart. Hobart is the river and the mountain.

The Derwent River begins in Lake St Clair. Somewhere south of the Tasman Bridge the Derwent River evolves into Storm Bay. The Derwent River is  about 180 km long. Upper tributaries are developed for hydro power. Around New Norfolk irrigation from the river for hops and fruit.

1793: The River Derwent was called Rivière du Nord by the French admiral Bruni d’Entrecasteaux. A couple of months later the British under John Hayes named the river after the River Derwent in England. The name Derwent is Celtic for valley thick with oaks.  

1943: A floating bridge was built across the River Derwent to link Hobart’s eastern and western shores. It consisted of a series of pontoons with a movable span near the western shore. The floating bridge frequently suffered substantial storm damage. There was constant disruption of road and water traffic due to the raising of lift span.

1960: Construction of the Tasman Bridge began.

1965: The Tasman Bridge officially opened.  

1975: On the 5th January at 9:27 p.m. the Lake Illawarra struck a concrete pylon of the bridge, resulting in the deaths of twelve people and its closure for two years.  It removed two pylons and 127m of the bridge. Five motorists and seven crew of the ship died. The ship was off course and at fault.

The bridge connects the two halves of Hobart. A lot of people live on the eastern shore and worked in the CBD of Hobart. With the bridge down Hobart became two cities. At the time the Bowen bridge did not exist. The only way across the river was via Bridgewater. Enterprising business men started transporting commuters across the river. Boom times for ferry operators.

The river is 35m deep at this point and the ship still lies at the bottom of the river with a concrete slab from the bridge on top of it. Ships regularly pass over the sunken ship without a thought. You can go diving on the sunken ship but it is very muddy with low visibility.

1977: Rebuilding of the bridge finished on 8/10/1977.

When the bridge was rebuilt the ferry services stopped. One ferry operator diversified into building ships. Very successfully and still going as Incat.

Today every ship passing under the bridge picks up a local harbor pilot before passing under the bridge. All traffic is halted. Everybody is once again reminded of the day the bridge ceased connecting Hobart.

Swimming across the river you do tend to look for and imagine the ship lying down there. When running the bridge, you tend to enjoy the view. You don’t think of the traumatized bridge or photos of cars on the broken bridge.

Normally I see the bridge covered by a blanket of living, moving runners and walkers. Concentrating, focused and pounding the bitumen. This year I run amongst fewer runners. The crowd is ahead of me.

Across the bridge is the second drink station.  Opposite Government House. Two cups of water for me. A few volunteers scurry around picking up discarded cups. Behind them is the Cenotaph. Every year I run I get slower and slower. A glance at the Cenotaph reminds me of the alternative to getting slower and older.

Previous races tell me the finish is a tease. Run past the finish line, tour Battery Point, and then come back to cross the finish line.

Crossing the finish bump in the road I discern an idea of my time. I am hot and tired and grab some water.

I try and find my lift home. It is a very big very active crowd. Thousands of happy sweaty people. We are all wearing medals. Some ran the bridge for the first time. Some ran better than last time. Some are getting older and slower. Everybody medal tells a story.

I eventually find my lift. We now discuss where we should go for a cup of coffee. We depart heading towards our chosen cafe.

Behind us a happy crowd talking; drinking water and taking photos. The organisers are less visible. They have created a delicious, wonderful crowd full of proud, exhausted, chatty people. The organisers have made many of us Hobartians a tiny bit healthier. Physically, socially and emotionally. One runner came first but, I think, the organizers, volunteers, spectators and the runners are all winners.

The area was now called Bellerive. Part 2

 

1830’s: The area was now called Bellerive. Which is French for beautiful shore or beautiful river bank.

I watch the first wave of runners take off. I wander around waiting to join the second wave of runners. An official tells me there is no second wave, only one wave. Start running.

I run down a semi deserted road. The peloton of runners has disappeared ahead of me. Ah well. Better run. I enjoy plodding down the road. On my left is the river. On my right is native bush which hides the Kangaroo Bluff Battery.

1873: Local cruising Russian warships prompted the need for a third battery to support Battery Point and the Queens Battery.

1884: Kangaroo Bluff Battery or Fort was completed. It was surrounded by a moat and prickly hawthorn hedges as protection from enemies on foot. Shots from the battery were fired in 1884.

The run follows the esplanade around the river until we enter the Bellerive shopping centre. This area has many historical homes and buildings which were sleeping until us runners arrived and woke them up.

The first water station. I take two cups of water and tip one cup over my head and shirt. My running experience is water is good. It prevents me lying on the ground trying to ascertain what are those people looking at.

Run up Rosny Hill. Local knowledge tells me on top of Rosny Hill is a lookout with sweeping views of our river, the mountain, The Tasman Bridge and the Royal Tasmanian Botanical Gardens. We plod up Rosny Hill bypassing the top of Rosny Hill.

We continue pass the Clarence Aquatic Centre and Sports Centre.

1963: The Clarence War Memorial Pool opened. Surrounded by pleasant gardens.

1982: It was decided to cover the pool to allow it to operate all year. Covered with a flexible bubble.  The bubble was very effective and a popular landmark. At the time it was the premier aquatic centre in the state.

2002/3: Bubble was replaced with a permanent building.

We now run onto a Tasman Bridge without cars. It is a delightful experience with an amazing view. Memories of driving the bridge or walking the narrow paths on either side vanish and are replaced by the view. At the summit of the bridge, I feel like exploding into a backward somersault, but I’m a stranger to such behaviour and now is not the time to…

I remember the race and plod on down the bridge. I am aware of an annoying wind. The arrival of this wind makes running more difficult and gives my head something to think about.