The cicadas are actually audible, at least for the moment. Not a sound of rain; I cannot believe it! We heard rain through the night, but little on waking, and were optimistic as we rose, breakfasted and prepared a packed lunch. The plan was to get down to the railway station as soon after nine as we could, and in to the city.
The morning television programme updated the situation on the Libyan war and the miracle of two being found alive and relatively well nine days after the tsunami in Japan, filled in the story about the ten year old who took revenge on his bullies (a story Olly had spoken to me about, a story I had not heard until then) and the forecast that rain would be developing in Sydney today. What!! Wasn’t it rain that had caused us to change most of our sightseeing plans for the past two days? Apparently not, because within a short space of time, the torrential rain started, far heavier and incessant than all that before. It looked as if we would be having our picnic in the van again!
And then at about eleven, it stopped. A break! We grabbed the back pack, our umbrellas, coats, and the normal paraphernalia and beelined for the railway station, staying absolutely dry. We travelled in to Wyndham, changed trains and disembarked at St James. How I love these trains, the underground! I am like a small delighted child having so much fun travelling this way!
We found a relatively dry bench at the Domain, overlooking the harbour, and ate our lunch in the company of ibis, crows and noisy minors. Exactly at midday, a couple of girls in sports clothes arrived accompanied by a personal trainer bearing a variety of accessories; skipping ropes, balls and boxing gloves. This had happened on the day we picnicked at the Observatory, but on a larger scale. The new in-buzz lunchtime activity for city workers is boxing training. I don’t actually think these fitness freaks indulge in boxing fights, simply the training exercises that such combatants would undertake. It is quite entertaining for those sitting about enjoying the views and people watching, such as ourselves.
We tore ourselves away from the show, and went on to the Art Gallery of New South Wales. This is housed in a very beautiful building on the edge of the Domain and near the Royal Botanic Gardens and is naturally one of the country’s leading art galleries.
We spent about three and a half hours wandering about the ground floor. I was especially taken with the exhibition titled “Homage to the Ancestors – Ritual art from the Chu Dynasty”.
In the last twenty years, there have been two separate discoveries of tombs dating back to the ancient Chu kingdom in the Warring State period (481 – 221 BC), one of these was happened upon during the construction of a new motorway. One of these was of a noble, the Marquis Yi of Zen, and the other an anonymous aristocrat at Jiulandun, both of four separate rooms all furnished with elaborate bronzes used to hold food and wine, and musical instruments, and every other chattel that such a noble person may need in the afterlife. Too much detail you cry! Perhaps so, but I was obviously entranced by the seventy stunning ritual objects and the explanations and history that surrounded them. I was also horrified with the waste of “wealth” all in the name of superstition, as I was and still am when I see such riches gathered and adorning Christian Churches in Europe and elsewhere.
On this same ground floor there were galleries upon galleries, those featuring 19th century European art, 19th and 20th century Australian art, 15th to 18th century European art, and an exhibition of secondary school art that has gathered several prestigious art awards.
Among the older works, there were few I did not appreciate. Among the very modern works, there were few I did appreciate, however as I have stated at least once before, I have not been schooled in art appreciation. In fact, after a while they all become a blur; one is all arted out. We concluded that it was time to head home and return another day to visit the three floors above.
Outside we were pleased to discover it was not raining, and it remained so even when we came up out of the subway at North Ryde. However about 100 metres from the caravan, inside the park gates, it started. I ran the last lap, and once we were inside, down it came, as it had much earlier in the day. How lucky we were with the weather today!
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