OK guys, it's a Ruddslide! A Kevolution!
I'm rarely as pleased to be wrong as I was on Saturday morning. Listening to the ABC coverage streaming live down the internet on 702, it soon became clear to me (and everyone else) that the Liberals were headed to disaster, and that for only the third time in my life we would have a change of the Federal government. Elections nights are always high drama, as the calculations, congratulations and recriminations unfold over only a few short hours. Although I'm sorry I wasn't able to share this with anybody, the quick phone calls to the clan down under certainly got my blood coursing. I understand that my sister had quite a night.
There is something especially poignant about the result in Bennelong, where Howard looks to be unseated by the ex-ABC reporter Maxine McKew. What a fickle world politics is! Barely one year ago, Howard looked comfortable. Although poor Beazley seemed to be making up ground, few thought that Labor could win government at the next election. Had Howard left then, he would have been able to mimic his great hero, Sir Robert Menzies, in being only the second post-war prime minister to leave at a time of his own choosing (of course, one could argue that Gorton didn't have to go, and I'm not going to touch Harold Holt). But in every other case, the PM was ousted by an unforgiving electorate, or succumbed to a party challenger. How hard it is to know when to quit.
A subject which has understandably been somewhat neglected in all the excitement is that the ALP is going to have a rough time of it in the Senate. This will be a very tricky situation, with the Greens, the Family First fellow and new South Australian anti-pokies Nick Xenophon holding the balance of power (and only after July 1). Perhaps this is all for the good, as I think that the enforced humbleness this will imply will help to steady the ship in the first term. Personally, I will be missing the poor Democrats, who now seem a spent force. In their heyday, it was always nice to know that a good, moderate and centrist party would be keeping the bastards honest.
Kevin, Julia and Wayne are going to face some daunting challenges on the environment, the economy and also national security, and I think it unlikely that they will get the easy ride that the Libs did. Optimistically, however, I think they have the "vision thing" which the Libs lacked, and this will be crucial if Australia is to come through alright. The work begins tomorrow, so I'm told, but until then, enjoy this IWW classic from Pete Seeger.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Friday, November 23, 2007
Election Night
It's a funny thing watching an election from overseas. Most people here don't have a clue about Australian politics, my awareness-raising by wearing a "Kevin 07" shirt to work notwithstanding (thanks to Naomi). It's a bit strange not to go into a shop and have an impromptu exchange with the check-out chick/chook about the latest "who said what" on the campaign trail. As such, all my information comes through the news websites, and so it sometimes feels as if this is just an exceptionally long game of cricket. There's a score to keep track of (the polls), every now and then somebody takes a wicket, but for the most part the commentators just have to talk about, well, not very much really.
My fearless prediction? As a pessimistic man of the left, I predict a tight result and I would tend to think that the Liberals will just scrape a victory, something like a repeat of 1969. I've read that many voters, perhaps as large as 10-20%, make their mind up the day before or thereabouts. I'd say that many of these people would probably decide to stick with the Libs as they are the more trusted on the economy. This should be particularly strong in marginal electorates, exactly where Labor needs to pick up the votes.
Of course, I thought Rudd's big night out in Noo Yoik would be a terrible blow, so don't take my word for it. Because I don't get those random encounters with the vox populi, it's impossible for me to judge the popular mood. Maybe there is a real desire for change out there. But the election booths are now just about to open in the eastern states, so we will know soon enough.
My fearless prediction? As a pessimistic man of the left, I predict a tight result and I would tend to think that the Liberals will just scrape a victory, something like a repeat of 1969. I've read that many voters, perhaps as large as 10-20%, make their mind up the day before or thereabouts. I'd say that many of these people would probably decide to stick with the Libs as they are the more trusted on the economy. This should be particularly strong in marginal electorates, exactly where Labor needs to pick up the votes.
Of course, I thought Rudd's big night out in Noo Yoik would be a terrible blow, so don't take my word for it. Because I don't get those random encounters with the vox populi, it's impossible for me to judge the popular mood. Maybe there is a real desire for change out there. But the election booths are now just about to open in the eastern states, so we will know soon enough.
The last ride of the year
As I write this it is a wet but relatively warm November night in Stuttgart. Last week we had intermittent snowfalls, lightly dusting the rooftops and fields - it seems as if the mild winter we had last year is not going to be repeated. Although the clear skies of early October are so very distant, the memory of the last bike ride of 2007 is still fresh...
Before putting away my bicycle for the winter, I wanted to make a return trip to the Schwaebisch Alb, where I had two of the most wonderful rides of this year. There was one obvious place left to visit - the ruined castle of Bad Urach. Unlike the week before, the skies to the south looked clear, and the morning train ride to Reutlingen was how it should be - the air was still, and a slight fog hung in the Neckar valley.
Arriving in Reutlingen around 10am, I followed the same path as I did on my last ascent of the Alb, heading east towards Talgut. To compare with my June trip, I took a panorama shot at roughly the same location as before. As you can see, the vivid greens of early summer had already been replaced by an orange-brown patchwork of dead leaves. After exhaling a little sigh, I turned my back and started my climb through the forest. As in June, for the most part this was fairly easy-going, except for the 17% incline at the end.
After a brief pause, I headed off across the Alb in the direction of St Johann, passing (perhaps?) the same goats that I had met in June, now much larger. Although the sun was shining, a brisk breeze from the south made my progress almost painful, and I was glad to make the relative shelter of the forest. From St Johann (really nothing more than a collection of a few farmhouses) I continued down a magnificent tree-lined path, busy with people enjoying one last walk in the Autumn sunshine. Thankfully I seemed to leave them behind at Fohlenhof, another large farmhouse on the edge of the Alb (panorama below).
Cycling on towards Bad Urach, I pushed through a forest and into a field which reached right up to the sheer cliffs of the Alb. The view from here was just magnificent (panorama above). On top of the 
hill in the middle you can see the ruins of Hohen Bad Urach. The very faint cream blob on the left is another ruined castle, Hohenneuffen, which plays an important role a little later. After enjoying the view from the cliffs, I decided to push on to the castle itself. Entering once more the forest, I coasted down a winding pass to the base of the hill on which the castle stands, pausing every now and again to admire the magnificent view (as right). Arriving at the bottom, I then made the mistake to push my bicycle to the top, which was much further away and higher than I had anticipated. Eventually I came to a pile of rubble where I sat to eat my lunch, feeding scraps to a field mouse hiding in the crevasses of the fallen masonry, before setting out to explore the ruins.
In its heyday, Bad Urach must have been a very impressive sight. The natural fortifications of the hill upon which it is perched, the two lines of defensive walls and a tall keep (of which now only a single wall remains) would have made it a formidable task to besiege, but I don't know if it was ever attacked. 
With the advent of gunpowder, however, castles such as Bad Urach became obsolete, and were either abandoned or converted to other purposes. Indeed, at the end of its life, the castle was reduced to merely a prison. Eventually the dukes of Wurtermburg found that they could do without this anachronism, and displaying a remarkable degree of foresight ordered the castle to be (imperfectly) ruined for the benefit of future tourists, of which there were many.
After a little while exploring the ruins I decided to push on and do something quite remarkable - attempt a second ascent of the Alb. I wanted to revisit the ruined castle of Hohenneuffen, which I had visited with Lydia and Chen last year. I figured that after a short trip across the small town of Bad Urach (in the valley below the castle) I would come to a pass that would bring me within only a few kilometres of the castle. The path was strewn with dead leaves, so thick that I could barely see the white gravel underneath. Yet this obscurity is undeserved - the climb was remarkably gentle, even easy.
Arriving once more on the Alb, I quickly took my bearings and headed off towards Hohenneuffen. On the way, I noticed something rather strange on the horizon - what appeared for all the world to be a pair of gigantic broken spectacles. Fortunately some near-sighted giant was not stumbling about the countryside, as it turned out to be only a modern sculpture, which I felt somewhat blighted the view out towards the castle and the Neckar valley. Remounting my bicycle, I resumed my journey, and taking a short-cut through the forest before too long I found myself walking through the imposing castle gates...
It has been said, and it is true, that if you once went to a place and loved it, you should never go back. For me Hohenneuffen just wasn't the same as last year - the much greater crowds and the great bustle of the place grated on me. Nor was the view what I had hoped for, as the mid-afternoon haze greatly limited visibility. After a little time, then, I decided to head down into the Neckar valley and make the ride to Nurtingen, tracing back the path I took with my friends in 2006. As I rode into the gathering twilight, I reflected on the past year. I have discovered so many wonderful places, seen so much of the countryside, that I have begun to feel almost a sense of belonging. This may sound silly - I can barely read the language let alone speak it - but the fields and the forests have no tongue, and knowing the geography is fundamental to any notion of one's place in the world. And for the forseeable future, my place in the world is here.
Before putting away my bicycle for the winter, I wanted to make a return trip to the Schwaebisch Alb, where I had two of the most wonderful rides of this year. There was one obvious place left to visit - the ruined castle of Bad Urach. Unlike the week before, the skies to the south looked clear, and the morning train ride to Reutlingen was how it should be - the air was still, and a slight fog hung in the Neckar valley.
Arriving in Reutlingen around 10am, I followed the same path as I did on my last ascent of the Alb, heading east towards Talgut. To compare with my June trip, I took a panorama shot at roughly the same location as before. As you can see, the vivid greens of early summer had already been replaced by an orange-brown patchwork of dead leaves. After exhaling a little sigh, I turned my back and started my climb through the forest. As in June, for the most part this was fairly easy-going, except for the 17% incline at the end.
After a brief pause, I headed off across the Alb in the direction of St Johann, passing (perhaps?) the same goats that I had met in June, now much larger. Although the sun was shining, a brisk breeze from the south made my progress almost painful, and I was glad to make the relative shelter of the forest. From St Johann (really nothing more than a collection of a few farmhouses) I continued down a magnificent tree-lined path, busy with people enjoying one last walk in the Autumn sunshine. Thankfully I seemed to leave them behind at Fohlenhof, another large farmhouse on the edge of the Alb (panorama below).
Cycling on towards Bad Urach, I pushed through a forest and into a field which reached right up to the sheer cliffs of the Alb. The view from here was just magnificent (panorama above). On top of the 
hill in the middle you can see the ruins of Hohen Bad Urach. The very faint cream blob on the left is another ruined castle, Hohenneuffen, which plays an important role a little later. After enjoying the view from the cliffs, I decided to push on to the castle itself. Entering once more the forest, I coasted down a winding pass to the base of the hill on which the castle stands, pausing every now and again to admire the magnificent view (as right). Arriving at the bottom, I then made the mistake to push my bicycle to the top, which was much further away and higher than I had anticipated. Eventually I came to a pile of rubble where I sat to eat my lunch, feeding scraps to a field mouse hiding in the crevasses of the fallen masonry, before setting out to explore the ruins.
In its heyday, Bad Urach must have been a very impressive sight. The natural fortifications of the hill upon which it is perched, the two lines of defensive walls and a tall keep (of which now only a single wall remains) would have made it a formidable task to besiege, but I don't know if it was ever attacked. 
With the advent of gunpowder, however, castles such as Bad Urach became obsolete, and were either abandoned or converted to other purposes. Indeed, at the end of its life, the castle was reduced to merely a prison. Eventually the dukes of Wurtermburg found that they could do without this anachronism, and displaying a remarkable degree of foresight ordered the castle to be (imperfectly) ruined for the benefit of future tourists, of which there were many.After a little while exploring the ruins I decided to push on and do something quite remarkable - attempt a second ascent of the Alb. I wanted to revisit the ruined castle of Hohenneuffen, which I had visited with Lydia and Chen last year. I figured that after a short trip across the small town of Bad Urach (in the valley below the castle) I would come to a pass that would bring me within only a few kilometres of the castle. The path was strewn with dead leaves, so thick that I could barely see the white gravel underneath. Yet this obscurity is undeserved - the climb was remarkably gentle, even easy.
Arriving once more on the Alb, I quickly took my bearings and headed off towards Hohenneuffen. On the way, I noticed something rather strange on the horizon - what appeared for all the world to be a pair of gigantic broken spectacles. Fortunately some near-sighted giant was not stumbling about the countryside, as it turned out to be only a modern sculpture, which I felt somewhat blighted the view out towards the castle and the Neckar valley. Remounting my bicycle, I resumed my journey, and taking a short-cut through the forest before too long I found myself walking through the imposing castle gates...
It has been said, and it is true, that if you once went to a place and loved it, you should never go back. For me Hohenneuffen just wasn't the same as last year - the much greater crowds and the great bustle of the place grated on me. Nor was the view what I had hoped for, as the mid-afternoon haze greatly limited visibility. After a little time, then, I decided to head down into the Neckar valley and make the ride to Nurtingen, tracing back the path I took with my friends in 2006. As I rode into the gathering twilight, I reflected on the past year. I have discovered so many wonderful places, seen so much of the countryside, that I have begun to feel almost a sense of belonging. This may sound silly - I can barely read the language let alone speak it - but the fields and the forests have no tongue, and knowing the geography is fundamental to any notion of one's place in the world. And for the forseeable future, my place in the world is here.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)