Reflections on The Kimberley

I’ve just returned from a 2-week trip to the Kimberley region of Western Australia. It was the furthest I have travelled from Melbourne, and the longest vacation I have had, since mid-2019 and before Covid struck in early 2020. Covid still managed to make its presence felt, in several ways, but thankfully did not directly impact the holiday. Here are just a few observations from my time away.

Although I have been to other remote parts of Australia, living inside the Melbourne bubble can make you forget just how big this country is, and the Kimberley is particularly difficult to get to thanks to the vast distances, and limited access points. I was travelling with my significant other and five of our friends, so the logistics required careful planning. Scheduled flights are limited, and the knock-on effects of Covid have resulted in higher air fares, more demand for accommodation and hire cars, staff shortages across the hospitality and tourism sectors, pent-up demand from interstate visitors who can now travel to Western Australia, and some indigenous and remote communities remain closed or visitors are being discouraged. (We had to take RAT tests before we were allowed to travel to one remote location.)

Our journey started in Broome (via Perth, as there were no direct flights from Melbourne), and then took us to Kununurra, Bullo River and Darwin. In between, we visited Quandong Beach, Mitchell Falls, the Bungle Bungles, Lake Argyle, Mirima National Park, and Litchfield National Park. Along the way we looked for dinosaur footprints, went whale watching, got up close to some crocodiles (freshwater and saltwater varieties), did some star gazing, hiked to see rock art, saw loads of wild fauna and countless boab and kapok trees, and swam in billabongs, waterfalls and lakes. Most of the journey was made on scheduled commercial flights, or with regular tour operators.* In one case, it was cheaper (and far, far quicker) to charter a pair of light aircraft to take us to and from our destination, instead of hiring a couple of 4WD vehicles.

We heard about the significance of the pearl industry in Broome (and its multi-cultural origins), the importance of the Ord River Irrigation System to agriculture, the historic and ongoing role of Darwin in Australia’s defence strategy, and the efforts being made towards sustainability, eco-tourism and environmental conservation and protection across the region (including some of the enormous and historical cattle stations).

Although we did not have an opportunity to meet with any local communities, one of our guides had been working closely with indigenous organisations, and shared some of his insights and experiences of customary law, the corporate nature of some aboriginal businesses, the challenges of addiction and mental illness within indigenous communities, and the knowledge gaps between the Stolen Generation and the younger members of our first nations people.

In addition to some amazing scenery, stunning sunrises and sunsets, pristine beaches and crystal clear waters, the vacation also provided tangible examples of some of the challenges facing Australia: immigration policies, the Jobs and Skills Summit, the Indigenous Voice to Parliament, the environment, energy policy, agricultural production, and national security – themes which I hope to draw on over the coming weeks.

* Our scheduled flights to/from Melbourne were booked direct with the respective airlines, and a couple of charter flights were arranged directly with the local operators, who were extremely helpful. We did hire a couple of 4WDs for part of our time in Broome, but vehicles were scarce, and tended to be expensive. However, most of our accommodation and guided tours were booked through Georgia Bedding at The Tailor, specialising in personalised travel itineraries.

Next week: The Jobs and Skills Summit

 

 

Getting out of town

This week, if all had gone to plan, I would have been reflecting on my latest stay in regional Victoria. Instead, Melbourne is under lock-down #6, and my mini-break out of the city had to be abandoned. But at least I managed to enjoy a great lunch and a walk in the country, before day release came to an end, and I had less than 4 hours’ notice to get back to town ahead of the latest curfew.

Greetings from Castlemaine – local art for local people….

Despite the abrupt end to my trip, the few hours of freedom were enough to remind me of the benefit (and downside) of living in a regional town.

First, regional and rural towns provide a great sense of belonging. You can experience a form of community in Melbourne’s urban and inner-city areas, but the connections don’t always run as deep, and they can be quite transactional and event-driven – meeting up to watch sport, going to the pub or catching up for dinner. Whereas, regional communities just “are”, and are always there to offer support, especially during challenging times.

Second, people living in regional areas tend to have a very different perspective and outlook on things, with a healthier approach to work/life balance. They have a greater appreciation of the country, nature and the land on which they live – something we can overlook or take for granted in our urban bubbles.

Third, rural and regional towns come with their own individual personalities and identities – something seriously lacking in our sprawling new suburbs with their increasingly cookie-cutter homes, and distinct lack of character.

The recent pandemic has shown that if you can work remotely, and don’t need to meet colleagues or clients face-to-face, regional centres are very attractive locations (even for a temporary tree/sea-change). But while the locals may welcome your city spending power in their shops and cafes, they may not appreciate the impact on property prices.

However, regional towns can take a while to warm to new-comers, and in these edgy pandemic times, strangers are viewed with as much suspicion as they are curiosity. More than once on recent trips I have noticed the locals almost crossing the street to avoid getting too close to the out-of-towners. Not quite dueling banjos (or the country pub scene in “An American Werewolf in London“…), but enough to suggest visitors are not entirely welcome.

Small towns are also notorious for everyone knowing each others’ business, where you can’t even sneeze without the rest of the village knowing about it. It can get to the point of suffocation, along with repressed emotions and dreadful secrets, especially where local traditions are based on very conservative (even regressive) values, beliefs and prejudices. (I was reminded of this recently when watching “The Last Picture Show”.)

In case this reads as overly pessimistic, I should emphasize that I really enjoy visiting regional Victorian towns (lock-down permitting), as they offer a rich variety of scenery and local produce – even if I can’t get there as often as I’d like these days, it’s good to know they are there. (And my wine cellar would be poorer for the lack of choice…)

Next week: More Music for Lock-down

RONE in Geelong

Public art galleries need to attract paying customers if their funding derived from government grants is being cut. To pull in the punters, galleries have to resort to “blockbuster” exhibitions. In these uncertain, post lock-down times, the lack of international tourists means that galleries are forced to focus on local audiences. It’s good to showcase local talent in the shape of conquering heroes returning to their roots.

These may have been some of the arguments behind the Geelong Art Gallery‘s decision to mount a retrospective exhibition featuring the work of street artist Tryone Power (aka RONE). Of course, the planning began long before COVID struck, but otherwise the above assumptions would seem to be valid.

Let’s acknowledge the positives of this show: First, it is certainly pulling in the punters, and helping to bring in visitors and their wallets to the town. Second, it is hopefully creating a platform for future exhibitions, and public engagement with the Gallery itself. Third, it’s nice that a locally-born artist is being recognised (even if he has had to travel afar to make a name for himself at home).

Unfortunately, that’s where it ends, for me. My recent visit was probably the shortest time I have spent in an exhibition which I had paid to see. Overall, I found the work vapid – there was nothing of substance (nor anything challenging) underneath the painted surface, or behind the concept of “beauty and decay”. As a street artist, RONE does not have the wit or depth of a Banksy; as a conceptual/installation artist, he’s no Christo. The main images he creates or imposes on his work are highly stylised and extremely idealised portraits of young women – it’s a very limited exploration of “beauty”. At best, the work reveal something interesting about abandoned and overlooked locations. At worst, the installation reeked of interior decor magazines and displayed a taste for romanticised and sentimental kitsch.

Which is all a great shame, because given RONE’s apparent interest in deserted and decaying structures, there is a deep and rich vein of Australian Gothic he could have tapped into. (In comparison, think of the work of Nick Cave, Peter Weir, Peter Carey, Julia deVille, Rosalie Ham, etc.)

Despite the use of physical objects, this exhibition felt very one-dimensional. Artists as disparate as Helen Chadwick, Paola Rego, Cindy Sherman and Rachel Whiteread have all deployed notions of female beauty, decay, abandonment and destruction to far greater effect and impact.

Next week: Intersekt FinTech Pitch Night

Expats vs Ingrates?

Just as we were starting to think that Australia has largely beaten Covid, the past few weeks has seen the topic heat up again on a number of fronts, especially the thorny issue of border control.

First, a series of community outbreaks in and around Brisbane, Sydney and Melbourne were all traced back directly or indirectly to returning overseas travellers. This again brought the hotel quarantine programme into the spotlight – and given the poor record of Victoria’s HQP management (which led to the Stage 4 lock-down for much of last year, as well as causing several hundred deaths among aged care residents), State Governments are under increased scrutiny not to stuff it up (again).

Second, there are something like 35,000 Australian citizens living and working overseas who are still trying to get home. Since many of them are based in countries with escalating infection rates (and extra-contagious strains of Coronavirus), it’s no wonder there is a lot of circumspection about bringing them back in a hurry. While I have a lot of sympathy for those expats who are stranded overseas, at the same time, they went abroad by choice. There is always a risk that international travel can be disrupted, as we have witnessed with increased regularity over the past 20 years, thanks to terrorism, volcanoes, tsunamis and geopolitical events. However, this has not stopped some expats complaining that their fellow Australians don’t want them back; some have been highly critical of this “smug” attitude: “we’re all right, but you can stay away and fend for yourselves”.

Third, the latest domestic border closures left numerous Victorian residents stuck in NSW. Many of them had only recently managed to travel interstate for the holidays, having just emerged from months of local lock-down. No doubt some of those affected may have a bit more sympathy for those Australians stranded abroad?

Of course, all these border restrictions might not be so hard to stomach if we didn’t have the spectacle of professional sports players being flown in (specially from overseas) to hit a few balls around. The fact that one cohort of these international visitors has managed to bring Covid back into the country is not helping. Nor the fact that a few of these over-paid sports “stars” and their partners appear to be acting like spoiled brats as they endure quarantine in 5-star hotels…..

Talk about being ungrateful.

Next week: The Day That Can’t Be Named…