She started life in 2010 at Valley Heights with Chinese ancestry but the ability to adjust well to our Australian way of life, and now residing happily at Picnic Point.
She loves our summer months but arguably looks her best at this time of year. Today is an especially fine sunny winter’s day at 22 degrees and with a gentle breeze. So, as I sit on the deck I can enjoy the golden shower of leaves that make a golden carpet where there was green lawn. Joycie Violet’s close neighbour (Crepe) Myrtle has lost her beautiful pink flowers and then her bronzed leaves some time ago and stands naked. Now it is Joycie’s turn as her vibrant green coat turn golden and then falls. Joycie always seems to cling onto her coat as long as possible and the warmer-than-usual autumn appears to have further prolonged her desire for modesty.
This magnificent, much-loved centre-piece of our small yard, grown from a stick in the Blue Mountains now surpasses her progenitor as a fine example of her species.
Within a short time she will also stand completely unadorned and allow the winter sun to intrude into her domain. Her carpet of leaves will be cleared away, maybe before grandchildren can rake them into piles for jumping into. This fun has provided some connection for these children to the great grandmother they never knew.
Our Joycie Violet is a gracious lady and a fitting reminder of her namesake Violet Joyce Bruce who left us nineteen years ago.
When a group of friends of more than 50 years standing, but now liberally scattered across Greater Sydney decide, in their retirement, that a semi-regular luncheon get-together is in order, where should they gather to reminisce about their shared history? Somewhere central of course, and with history in mind what could be more central and appropriate than The Rocks. And because we enjoy an ale, it was decided that there would be appropriate venues among the many historic pubs there.
The Rocks, named for the sandstone outcrops on the peninsula west of Sydney Cove (now Circular Quay) has a most intriguing history dating from the early convict days. Within a few years of the arrival of the first fleet in 1788 Government buildings started to appear in The Rocks focusing on activities to manage convicts.
Soon after the dawning of the 19th century the Government instituted a system of leases in the area which was expanded in the early 1820s with free settlement and assisted immigration. This led to a population boom that further accelerated with the gold rushes. Business activity naturally increased over this period including the establishment of many pubs servicing the local community and workers from the harbour seafront.
By the late 19th century The Rocks had become run down and overcrowded. There were dozens of pubs that were meeting places for criminal gangs, and the back streets were haunts of prostitutes, such that it had become a typical waterfront slum.
The developments through the 20th century including the construction of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Cahill Expressway past Circular Quay led to demolition of many houses and further proposals for development. It wasn’t until the last quarter of the century that “green bans” and heritage controls took effect preserving many important remnants of the early history of Sydney that we are able to enjoy today.
So to lunch. Our most recent outing included a meet-up at the Glenmore Hotel followed by lunch the Lord Nelson Hotel.
The Glenmore Hotel
A Glenmore Hotel has operated in two buildings in Cumberland Street, continuously since 1837. The first Glenmore Hotel, known as the Glenmore Cottage, was located less than 50m from the current hotel and was demolished to make way for the southern approaches to the Harbour Bridge and the current Hotel was built by Brewers Tooth & Co in 1921.
Although not having quite the long history of other pubs in The Rocks it offers alfresco dining and, from it high Cumberland Street position, fine views of the the harbour and Sydney Opera House from the rooftop beer garden.
The Lord Nelson Hotel
The Lord Nelson hotel on the corner of Kent and Argyle Streets. is reputed to be Sydney’s oldest pub. The building dates from 1836 and was originally built as a home by a William Wells. In 1840 he started converting his house into a hotel and on 1st May 1841 he obtained a liquor licence and called the establishment the Lord Nelson hotel.
These days the hotel incorporates a brewery with a range of brews for every taste. Our group particularly likes their Old Admiral old ale and Three Sheets pale ale with a good meal.
The Hero of Waterloo
An earlier lunch date was at another iconic sandstone pub, The Hero on the corner of Windmill and Lower Fort Streets, Millers Point. This little gem of a pub has real atmosphere with reminders of a notorious past seen in the downstairs cellars with shackles on the walls and the entrance to the supposed smuggler’s tunnel. Legends abound and some say ghosts.
Opening in 1843 the structure also suffered over the years and has been renovated to provide more modern facilities but retain its historic character and charm.
The small triangular site adds to the atmosphere which is cosy and ideal for a drink and nice meal.
The Hotel Palisade next to Munn Street Reserve,
Millers Point was the site of a lunch some time ago, but deserves a mention. Our group together with our significant others made this pub a destination after a relaxing Sunday stroll around the new headland at Barangaroo.
Sitting high on the sandstone ridge, it was built in 1915-1916 to replace an 1880 hotel of the
same name and recently underwent a $5m restoration after being closed for about 7 years. It is named after the palisade fence built between Munn Street and Bettington Street and built in “Federation Free Style”.
It provided a good range of beers and cosy dining.
The Orient Hotel has not yet been a recent venue for lunch but over the years has been a popular meeting place for a beer or something to eat in the tree-shaded sandstone courtyard
In 1842, on the current site of the Orient Hotel at the corner of George and Argyle Street a three-storey residence of ten rooms and a neighbouring single storey shop was constructed on and in 1853 was converted to licensed premises trading as the Marine Hotel. It was renamed the Buckham’s Hotel in 1876 and this was finally changed to the Orient in 1885.
The building has undergone a number of modifications over the last few decades to enhance its popularity to the broader public, added to by its prominent location.
Although the number of pubs in Sydney has declined over the years, there are still many more possible venues in The Rocks and we hope to visit some of them in the future.
It is early on the beach at Jervis Bay, still virtually deserted before holiday-makers arrive for their morning swim, so that I have it almost all to myself. The sky is mostly blue with some white unthreatening clouds. The surface of the bay is calm with only small waves breaking onto the sand that stretches some four kilometres facing Point Perpendicular and beyond it the Tasman Sea. The waves roll in, break, then ebb away to meet the next set. The breaking wave is followed by a short eerie silence and sense of serenity until the next set tumbles gently forward and creeps up the beach. Yesterday we saw one of the largest pod of dolphins that I can remember, but today there are none to be seen.
Behind me a small sand bank retains the bush. A myriad on natural flora is highlighted here and there by an old man banksia or a gnarled example of the remnant gums trees that had survived the infrequent bush fires.
There is only a light breeze but enough to allow a quite large hawk to glide to and fro, circling high without the need to flap its wings. Another hawk waits patiently, perched in a dead white gum tree just beyond the sand bank. All of a sudden the hawk starts a shallow descent aimed some thirty metres off the shore. As it approaches the water its talons are projected forward, so it appears to only skim the surface, but yet emerge with a small fish in its claws as it rejoins its mate.
This act of natural survival did nothing to disturb to tranquillity of the scene but rather provided a clear demonstration of a world in harmony. It makes one wonder about the simplicity of the natural environment which is so complicated. The workings of the oceans, the blooming of the flora and fauna that rely upon each other for their very existence, can appear in such a state of simple harmony to belie the sheer majesty of every aspect of life as we know it. But it is that complexity that ensures the harmony of our natural world. It is a world not without the trauma of the fight to exist, of weather events including seismic occurrences that in the end are self-balancing, reverting to that state of harmony that is so treasured by we humans.
In the extreme of natural complexity, one could say, is humanity, so intricate and detailed, both physically and spiritually representing a climax of evolution. As humans we are capable of both appreciating our world on one hand, and ignoring and exploiting it on the other, the latter often leading to the upsetting of the natural balance mainly as a result of the multiplying of our species.
Jervis Bay is a beautiful part of our beautiful world. Being away from the city it provides an example of the natural world in balance. It is surely incumbent on us to do all we can to ensure the continuation, and restoration, of that balance.