Fly Fishing

There is lots to like about my new sport but here is a quick summary.........no queues.

No crowded surf breaks
No ski lift lines
No fighting for a seat
No traffic jams
No problems parking
No drunks with big eskies (cold boxes) full of beer being noisy.

Just tranquility, rhythm, awareness, focus then adrenaline and finally a sense of accomplishment.

But damn it's cold. Having just emerged from wading in a snow melt lake, I still can't feel my feet.

A Cheese Sandwich

You would think that such a universal thing as a cheese sandwich would be of ease to an international 4 star hotel

I just flew in to Ho Chi Minh City, Saigon, in southern Vietnam. fascinating place which seems to have inherited the French tradition of eclectic building codes where nothing seems to match. It's as though the architect burns her plans and starts anew with each building on the street totally ignoring the ones beside..

Traffic is best described as a swarm, like bees. Any obstacle such as a pedestrian or car is simply swarmed around without so much as a pause. This is the one place I reckon I would never ever drive no matter what.

Service in the hotel is nothing short of exceptional, except when I ask for something outside the circle.

Waitress: please sit sir, can I help u

Me: I would like a cheese sandwich please, no vegetable or salad and no mayonnaise

Waitress: certainly sir and drink?

Me: Diet Coke thanks.

That morning during a conversation with the people who brought me to Vietnam I was complimented on how clear and easily understood my English was. My accent is best described as Mid Pacific, not broadly Australian, tinged with UK English and a touch of Californian. All good however.

Said Waitress arrives with toast and butter. Where is the cheese I ask. She points to the butter and says " there sir"

Me: no sweety, that is butter not cheese

Waitress: no sir it's cheese.

Back and forth we go, finally she gets it and leaps off and this time returns with the cheese.

Vietnam, having been excluded for quite some time from the world after the war, struggles to truly deliver. By gosh they try hard though, nothing but smiles, but it seems most expectations fall short of the mark.

I will come back though one day, everyone smiles and is super friendly, traffic not withstanding.

The Diet Coke was awesome. I wonder if Uncle Ho drank coke.

The Hat

I have always fancied myself in a Hat. Not just any hat but one of substance. A mans hat, fit for all hat purposes.

Over the years I have worn everything from beanies, to baseball caps, various Islamic skull caps, even a Fez (and yes of course it was a red one). Never though have I considered a proper Australian hat. An Akubra. Until, whilst browsing their catalogue one day I came across the Adventurer, made by Akubra in my home state. It's me. My daughter agreed. Had to have one after that.

A second thing I have always fancied, and given my years of travel I have never done, is to wander my own home state. Inland, the bush, the outback. Given Akubras rural roots, what better place to go to buy a hat.

The search begins. Sydney to Mudgee, thence to Nyngan. Nyngan on the edge of the cotton belt and officially the beginning of the Outback (so the signs proclaim) has a hat shop. They have all styles of Akubra. No adventurers though.

On to Cobar, the mining town, nope. So to Wilcannia. there is nothing repeat nothing in Wilcannia so it's on to Bourke. Nope, but being a little desperate at this stage as I was heading out of the outback with no major town until I reached the coast, I bought a Cattleman. Very popular style the guy tells me. I buy it. I wear it. It keeps the sun and rain at bay. But this is NOT my hat.

My sister takes a look at the Cattleman, puts it on. It soooooo suits her. She swipes it. I need to go buy an adventurer anyway.

So on I go to Moree, lovely town, sat in a hot spring for an afternoon wondering just how to get this hat there. No adventurers.

Then Grafton, nada, Byron, nope, Ballina, never heard of them. Then Taree, nope.

Finally a guy in Gloucester who has had his hat shop for 38 years tells me I am the first person to ever ask for one. I now really really have to have this hat. I fly fish a few more streams but the urgency is growing. So it's off to Wyong, nope, Newcastle, nope, Forster nope. Port Macquarie, never heard of them, didn't believe there was such a style, had to show them in the catalogue.

Then, in despair ( I discourage easily eh?), I decide to ring their Kempsey distributor. Not only has she heard of them, she will check her stock if I wait a minute. Sure, I wait. And wait. And wait some more. She comes back on the phone and says sorry no stock, plus it's a ten week delivery from the factory she thinks. Despondently I tell her the story thus far, kindly she offers to ring Akubra and ask what they have. Akubra is also at Kempsey. She will ring me back in the morning.

Next day, sunshine, crystal air, lovely espresso. Phone rings. It's her and she says, " you won't believe this, Akubra have one only of that style in stock and it's your size". I race to Kempsey, pay her the money and then zoom out to the factory to pick up My Hat.

Just as the lady from Akubra was giving me the hat, she notices a slight imperfection on the ribbon which she says is easily fixed with a bit of steam. Off she goes with My Hat promising a speedy return.

Fifteen minutes pass. I am getting nervous. She walks in with a guy whom she introduces as the Manager and says "we would like to talk to you about this hat". Oh yeah? What now?

The guy takes me outside and we have the following conversation

The Guy: you obviously know your hats so I want to show you that this hat has a slight mark on the top.

Me: can't see any mark there

The Guy: well I don't want to sell you this hat so can you pick another style please?

Me trying to stay calm but my tone is about -10 icey cold: Mate, I went from Sydney to Nyngan, to Cobar and Bourke, then Moree to Grafton and every point in between to get this hat. I AM HAVING THAT HAT.

It's 12 degrees and I am sweating, wondering why I havent bought a gun with me.

The Guy: Sorry mate, you are misunderstanding me, this hat is your hat, but we want you to choose another one as well.

Relief. MY HAT, and I don it right there. 4500 kilometres after the search began.

I head to Jnidabyne and the Alps with my hat on. Still haven't taken it off despite wind, rain, a bit of snow, lotsa sunshine. Does everything

Oh and the second hat? It's a plainsman. Lovely as well, but not an adventurer.

If you go bush, you are not dressed until you have an Akubra on. www.akubra.com.au

You can order them on line but it's not as much fun as my search.

Oh and by the way, I have lots of slightly used baseball caps, beanies, and Islamic skullcaps for sale. No way will I sell the Fez

My Home

And the fundamental question to our reality on earth is this. Do we live in a society or do we live in an economy?

I don't believe the two will ever mix comfortably. It pains me that people would view our world in terms of economic outcome let alone judgement of ones fellows by their net worth.

Irrespective of the fluctuation of a notional currency or economic deficit, we still have the capacity to sustain ourselves at life without the necessity of commoditization.

Is greed and power lust that ingrained in us by Madison Avenue?

Gosh I hope not.

Come round for a coffee, say hi. Both are free