Drought, gambling and a wedding

Monday, 11th December 2006
Central Adelaide

The 42 degree heat of the last couple of days has abated to a more comfortable 30-something. This is good news for the country fire service (CFS), who've recently been on high alert for bush fires. Searing heat, tinder-dry conditions and a hot wind are ideal conditions for even small fires to get out of control very quickly. People in Victoria, Tasmania and Western Australia are already suffering severely due to bush fires as I write. Sadly, loss of life is not unheard of in the bush fire season. Even more sadly, and to my mind somewhat incredibly, it's believed that some of the fires are started on purpose. I try to think why anyone would do that but having no success, I give up and just shake my head in bewilderment.

I admire the CFS very much. Unlike the full time firemen in metropolitan areas such as Adelaide, Sydney, Perth or Melbourne, they're unpaid volunteers. Entirely unpaid. No retaining allowance, no call-out fees, nothing. It's an example of how community spirit can be fostered when conditions are particularly harsh, and I can think of few things harsher than standing in the path of a raging bush fire fifty miles wide. You have to see one to understand the terrible ferocity of these things. They consume everything.

Yesterday being Sunday things were quieter than usual, so I took the opportunity to write some postcards which I posted today on the way to the Adelaide Casino. No I haven't taken up gambling, we went there for lunch with Mrs Jim's parents. It's their preferred eating place when they leave their country farm to visit the city, and we were happy to shout them a meal, as the saying here goes.

Apart from having a more than decent Pullman restaurant the casino is also an interesting place for observers of human behaviour. There are all the usual things that you expect in the way of gaming; roulette tables, card games, dice and the like, but from the casino's perspective the big money lies in pokies. Did I hear someone say WTF are pokies? Let me explain.

In the casino's huge gambling areas row upon row of what we'd call slot machines twinkle seductively. Here they're known as poker machines, or pokies, and they're everywhere. Hardly a pub exists in Adelaide without its pokies because (and I find this a regrettable state of affairs) without them lots of pubs would quickly lose most of their customers. In fact since gambling became legal in South Australia addiction has grown into a serious problem. Mrs Jim once knew a woman who, after a generous divorce settlement, lost everything she had - tens of thousands of dollars - on pokies. It's hard to credit I know, but true nevertheless.

You get a better understanding of how this can come about when you watch people playing the machines. The pokies all have a stool in front of them from which you can order drinks and even food as you play. There are no outside views and the constant artificial lighting makes it easy to lose track of time. Fair enough, there are clocks on the walls but you have to leave your stool to see them. Committed gamblers just won't do that. They don't care what time it is, they just want that elusive win. They wouldn't even bother to glance at their wristwatch, never mind leave their seat to find a wall clock.

Every now and again a jolly electronic tune blares out to tell everyone that some individual has had a substantial win, thereby boosting the other punters' hopes that they too might get lucky. As an added convenience each person has in front of them a large plastic cup, almost bucket sized, which holds their coins until they're forced to either exchange folding money for more metal or go elsewhere.

In short everything is calculated to keep people in front of the machines for as long as possible. That way they'll put as much money as they can afford (or can't, as the case may be) into the slots. Hour after hour people sit on the stools, robotically feeding the pokies and pressing the buttons without ever giving any indication that they're deriving one jot of pleasure from the process. And to think we used to call slot machines amusements; ironic isn’t it?

To me the sight is a little depressing and, although the restaurant was fine and the meal was very enjoyable, I find myself glad to pass through the gambling area and out into the sunshine.

Wednesday, 13th December 2006
North Adelaide

Yesterday we went into the city to meet Claire, the woman who'll be conducting our wedding renewal on Saturday. She seemed lovely and it gave us confidence in her ability to run a good service. After sorting out some details with her we had a look round Rundle Mall, Adelaide's pedestrianised main shopping street. It's a fine place but there's something quite odd for me, an Englishman, about seeing all the shops with their Christmas decorations on display in 34 degree heat and bright sunshine. It's frankly a little surreal.

Something else caught my eye in Rundle Mall, something I found quite literally amazing. It came in the form of a giant Father Christmas sculpture, complete with towers and castellations, made entirely from sand. As we passed by the sculptor was still working on it, watched by a sizeable crowd of shoppers. It was very impressive and I found myself wondering how long such a thing would last in the UK before baseball cap wearing chavs destroyed it with their designer label boots.

Last night our friends Vicki and Ian, at whose house we'll be having the wedding renewal, came round to finalise arrangements. They - or more accurately she - has really pulled out all the stops to make it a truly memorable day. There'll be a string trio playing in their immaculate garden, and even a red carpet on which we'll make our entrance. I wonder whether this last detail is a bit much, but it would be churlish to ask the question aloud so I remain silent.

Thursday, 14th December 2006
North Adelaide.

Rain! At last some rain has fallen, and you can almost hear the parched earth sighing with relief. It was only a light shower by UK standards but it brings precious moisture that will be thirstily absorbed by the local plants and trees. Almost everyone is extremely happy, even the café owners who have temporarily lost a few stay-at-home customers. They know it will be better for them in the long run.

Yet the rain isn't as welcome as you might expect, at least in some quarters. The cereal farmers are well into their harvest and to them, rain right now is very inconvenient indeed. The water company isn't ecstatic either because not enough rain fell to top up the domestic supplies. It just got absorbed into the soil and plant roots. Oh well, you can't please everyone.

Sunday 17th December 2006
Blackwood, just outside Adelaide

Yesterday we had our wedding renewal service. It was a beautiful occasion, held outdoors in the splendid garden of our friends' house. The sun shone from an azure afternoon sky as around 30 family and friends gathered for the event. I found out the reason for the red carpet too; without it the heels of Mrs Jim's shoes would have sunk into the lawn, making our approach towards the celebrant a less than elegant spectacle.

The string trio played wonderfully, the food afterwards was excellent, and most importantly there was plenty of wine and beer. Only one thing didn't go quite to plan; a persistent fly buzzed around my face during the ceremony, causing me to give the 'Aussie salute' more frequently than I'd have liked. Of course the fly won't show up on the home video or photographs so I'll appear to be flapping manically at thin air but that apart, it was wonderfully memorable for all the right reasons.

Everyone here has been incredibly welcoming towards me. I really do feel that I've been accepted as one of the family, and at the same time gained a circle of good friends. I've been asked when we're going to move here permanently so many times I can recite the reply by rote. They're either eager for us to join them here or desperate to know when they should think about selling up and moving to Tasmania to avoid us. I'd like to think it was the former but you never know.

During our stay we've been doing some research into how much things cost. It turns out that even if neither of us has a job when we first move here, my UK pension and the proceeds from our house will keep us housed and fed in relative comfort until we get sorted. This we find very reassuring, as its takes away some of the niggling doubts that always crop up whenever a major life change is imminent. The next stage in the process is to get my provisional resident's visa made permanent. By my calculation this should take place around August 2007, after which the logistics of the UK property market take over.

Sunday, 17th December 2006
North Adelaide

Not far from here is Warrawong wildlife sanctuary, which I learn has been facing the threat of closure until a new owner recently came forward and guaranteed its future. The founder was an interesting character called Dr John Wamsley, who bought some land and fenced out the feral cats which were threatening much of the indigenous wildlife. He also gained a measure of notoriety among cat lovers by then killing any feral cats he found within the fenced area and making himself a hat from their skins, which he constantly wore. A bit eccentric perhaps, but effective.

Warrawong is billed as a 'must see' place owing to the fact that it's one of the few locations where you can see duck-billed platypus. Not when we went you couldn't. This was because the twilight guided walk, on which you're entreated to be as quiet as you can at certain crucial points, included a couple of ignorant oafs from Bolton or somewhere, whose booming voices carried far ahead and ensured that any platypus within miles went scuttling for cover. We did see some of Australia's stranger creatures though; there were potoroo, bettong, bilby (I'm not making any of these names up by the way - they're all small marsupials) and bandicoot, but alas, not the elusive platypus thanks to the loathsome duo.

Why anyone would come half way around the world to behave like a complete prat when you can do it in the comfort and privacy of your own home defeats me. Anyway I'm pleased that Warrawong isn't to close after all, but unless they tighten up the supervision of their guided walks the falling number of visitors will mean it's only a matter of time before it has to.

We had a much better experience at another wildlife park called Urrambirra, a couple of hours drive south from here on the Fleurieu Peninsula. We arrived just in time to see the big saltwater crocodiles being fed, then went on to take advantage of a photo-opportunity with some koalas. Later an echidna nonchalantly waddled by in full daylight, which was surprising as they prefer darkness or the half-light of dusk and dawn in which to do their foraging. In a nearby pen was a rather forlorn-looking wombat, and as we wandered around kangaroos and wallabies would hop up to us and eat the special food bought from the park shop from our hands. None of this is natural behaviour I know, but it does give people the chance to see these fascinating animals at close quarters.