Wednesday, February 6 2008, 17:49

Moving house, opera, and tea with Agatha Christie

Scorchio! That's what it was like at lunch today - a brief glimpse of the summer I've been missing out on. Australia Day (January 29th) was a hot one, but we were busy moving house - just three floors down and one building over. Our new apartment is big enough to accommodate the three of us and our new flatmate, Chris, who's just moved down here from Brisneyland. Not only do we have an extra bedroom, we also have bigger living space, and a small truckload of Chris' bits and pieces to help make our place feel more like a home. It's a huge change from the squalor the feral previous tenants lived in; gone is the stale stench of cigarette smoke, gone are the wok and dishes piled up in the sink, gone are the chopstinks stuck in the u-bend, gone are the golden encrustations around the toilet pans, and so, so much more. In their place, hello tasteful artwork, hello lightly-fragranced febreze on the soft furnishings, hello vases of decorative pebbles, hello gleaming surfaces, etc.; it's a makeover worthy of television.

I did manage to catch a few hours of beachage with Pete and Chris the other weekend, during their short stop in Sydney while they circumnavigate the globe. They took the weather with them, in their first class seats to LA en route to Mexico, and left us with the pissing rain. Last weekend, the downpour let up just enough for John and me to roll out our picnic blanket on the moist grass of the Domain with Tony and Chris, and a pleasant evening was had, slurping wine and consuming nibbles while the talented folks of Opera Australia performed La Boheme as the backdrop for our conversation.

If that wasn't enough culture, John and I rounded off the weekend with high tea at the Observatory Hotel in the historic Rocks area of Sydney. The Observatory is owned by the same folks as the Orient Express, so our afternoon was distinctly 1930s in flavour. I wouldn't have been surprised if one of the guests next to us had fallen to the floor, tiffin tray knocked to the plush carpet, cream scones and crustless sandwiches sent flying across the room while the venerable twin-set and pearls character, croaked out a last gasp of "poison!" before Monsieur Poirot arrived on the scene with Hastings in tow... No such excitement for us, but the tea was very nice and the creme brûlée was exquisite. Many thanks to Steve, whose behind-the-scenes call to a colleague there got John yet another glass of champagne to wash down the pastries.

Friday, February 29 2008, 15:22

We should be so lucky

You can tell by my blogging silence that I'm pleasantly diverted again, and this time it's because gay Christmas is upon us - it's Mardi Gras time. Christ, that's probably borderline sacrilegious, isn't it? Oops! Blasphemy too. The main event for us is always the obligatory partying at the beginning of March, but this spangled festival has been going for all of February, with art exhibitions, plays galore, comedy shows, the MG Film Festival (not as huge as the London Lesbian & Gay Film Festival, but just as internationally diverse), and a whole rash of parties, special bar and club events, and probably a glittering host of other things that I just haven't noticed yet. Air New Zealand even have their very own Pink Flight from San Francisco, staffed with drag queens and compered by US comedienne, Kathy Griffin, which touched down today. There's so much on, it's hard to make time (or money) for it all; our forays into this besequined cultural extravaganza include cabin crew comedienne, Pam Ann; Blowing Whistles, a play that's had great reviews from everyone I know who's seen it so far; a performance from BearForce1, the world's only (so far) bearband(!), and of course a handful of the inevitable parties to round it all off.

The week is building up to a critical mass of homos, and Oxford Street, at the centre of it all, has been awash with the overseas crowd. The official Mardi Gras After Party has sold out for the first time in years, with 18000 tickets snapped up by disco-hungry guys and gals who will be treated to performances by Cyndi Lauper and Australia's own Olivia Newton John. Hm. Interesting combo. No doubt there'll be other surprise artists on the night - fingers crossed they're not rejects from Australian Idol Series 2... Rumour has it that even the inimitable Ms Minogue is on her home soil, but the homovine is heavy with such tantalising grapes of gossip every year. Rest assured that if I can rustle up the concentration to put fingers to keyboard next week, you'll know.