Canberra nostalgia

"We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will to be arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time."

(From T.S. Eliot's poem "Little Gidding").


Two weeks ago I had a work trip to Canberra, and as it coincided with my birthday, Jen was keen to come as well. Jen's parents looked after the boys, and we had three nights in Canberra, the longest time that we've both been away together. On one of the days I was working, Jen's best friend came down to Canberra so they could spend a few hours together. Outside of the workshop, we had one and a half days to explore again in the city where we lived for 6 years, the place where we met while studying and got married (at the end of the first four years) and where we later returned when I was working at ANU.

The physical beauty of Canberra is still striking, both the natural - the lake, the trees, the hills, the campus - and the human - the parliament, the gallery, the war memorial etc. At the same time there is a good deal of ugly and uninspired architecture, if that's not too grand a word. The first photo is the view from our hotel room one crisp morning, with a hot air balloon drifting past. On our last day we hired a pedal car (like two bicycles side by side, but with a canopy and a wide seat) and rode along the lakeside as far as the Carillion.

On the way we stopped off at Regatta Point, where our wedding reception was held 16 years ago. I've included a photo of Jen standing on the lawn with the lake behind. Canberra for us is also memories of the past, returning to a place that looks much the same, and reflecting on the changes in ourselves. In a similar spirit, we returned to the Gods' cafe at ANU (near the campus theatre), the location of our first "date" - the second last picture shows Jen at the table.

Canberra is a transitory city, and most of our friends from those days have moved away. Yet somehow one still half expects to glimpse a familiar face in the street. A city without friends feels empty. Fortunately we have kept up with a few people, and we had dinner with one family - in fact with the person who preached at our wedding.

The other highlight was a visit to the Degas exhibition at the National Gallery, which evoked memories of other visits. Jen's feet were so painful that she used a wheelchair inside, so I had to avoid running over the toes of others. Degas had a fascination with capturing the beauty of the intimate "unobserved" moment, the laundress ironing, the dancers off-stage, the woman washing herself. Exploring Canberra, as in any city, one finds also those places and moments of unexpected beauty, as simple as seeing someone reading underneath a tree.

Every visit feels like it could be the last together. We have a plan to go to Canberra again in July when we've thinking of travelling north, but even that is subject to the multiple contingencies of Jen's treatment. We shall see.