Food – Page 9 – Tales and Travel

Family Fun in the US

Husband Bob’s family (he has eight brothers and sisters) was planning a big family reunion in Ohio this past summer. Of course, we planned to attend. What about my family? Why couldn’t we also have a reunion? I planted the idea with brother Steve who lives in Boulder, Colorado, a location which seemed the best for such a gathering.

reunion lede — Majestic Colorado scenery

He was not overly enthusiastic, but agreed. Of course, brother Tom from San Francisco would attend. Then we sent out word to cousins, many of whom I had not seen since we were children some 40 – 50 years ago. From Florida, South Dakota, and New Mexico they came, as well as a nephew and his wife from Kentucky. Unfortunately brother David, his wife Joan and son Dan from Kentucky could not join the party, nonetheless it was a smashing success with 22 in attendance.

Everyone was in awe at the classy cocktail party cousin Sean and his partner Jerry hosted at their gorgeous home in Boulder. Another fun event was a chartered bus ride up in the mountains for dinner at the Gold Hill Inn in a funky old town by the same name.

With Steve and his wife Yoshie and son Tai, some of us visited the Eldorado Canyon outside of Boulder where we watched climbers scale sheer walls of rock – a mind boggling spectacle. We also toured Boulder and its farmers market. For many (the Democrats in the group), an exciting bonus was attendance at an Obama speech at the University of Colorado. Unfortunately it meant standing in line for hours before being admitted to the venue. My new knee was not up to the wait, so Bob and I drove back into the mountains to the Rocky Mountain National Park.

On to Ohio for another remarkable event. But first we spent a few days in Winchester, Virginia, where stepson Rob and his two children, Sam, 8, and Lang , 6, live. Time there for me to do my Ami shopping (everything seems so much cheaper in the U.S.) I always leave plenty of room in the suitcase for purchases.

Together we drove to Ohio. We stayed with Bob’s brother, John, and sister-in-law Mickey, who always provide deluxe accommodations in their spacious and beautiful home in Wadsworth. The reunion festivities got underway with a dinner at a restaurant Friday evening, followed by a slide show of the past.

Cloudy, cool weather did not dampen the enthusiastic ambience for the main event the following day, a catered picnic at a lodge pavilion on the edge of a picturesque lake. This was a major reunion with some 80 in attendance, many from California. Some came with photo albums filled with memories.

Brothers, sisters, children, grandchildren, cousins – all ages. It was amazing, and the pavilion was perfect with an adjacent playground for the kids, and plenty of space for the adults to wander around and chat with those they had not seen in years. Thanks to diligent internet research, stepdaughter Kellie, who lives in New York City, tracked down some cousins who live in Pennsylvania. They also came.

A visit to the family house where Bob and his brothers and sisters grew up was especially meaningful for the siblings. Current residents were not home, but agreed that the family could walk around the property. They toured the terrain, reminiscing about long gone chicken coops, fruit trees in the orchard, a small house still standing that Bob and his brother John had built.

We spent our last few days in the US in NYC with Kellie at her elegant apartment in Soho. One can never tire of NYC.

It’s fun, gratifying and simply wonderful to reconnect with the past, to relive old memories, to become reacquainted with childhood companions. Bravo for reunions!

See the photo album below for more reunion photos, and more of the US. For a dip with a kick, see the recipe, “Spicy Peanut Dip,” in the column at right. If you’d like to read more of my tales and adventures, click on “Email Subscription” at top right of post. Comments are welcome. Click “Leave a Reply”

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All about Life in France

The Germans have a saying, Leben wie Gott in Frankreich, (Live like God in France). After living and working in Germany for more than 25 years, I moved to southern France eight years ago to see just how God lived. Not too shabby. Life is good, very good, but not quite paradise. Read on for my observations.

Topping off the list of pluses is Health Care. Americans can criticize socialized medicine all they want, but I’m thrilled with the French system, universal care, which even covers home visits, taxi trips to doctors for those unable to drive, weeks in a rehab facility after some surgeries and much more. For details, see my previous blog post, “My New French Knee, “ all about my recent experience with knee replacement surgery.

Filing Taxes. My husband does ours. Since our retirement income comes from the U.S., we file and pay U.S. taxes. There is a reciprocal agreement between the U.S. and France, so we pay no income tax here. Nonetheless, as residents in France, we must fill out French tax forms. My husband spent many long days on the computer, fighting with form after form, to file the U.S. taxes. The French form, even for citizens, is short and simple. I did it in minutes.

Elections. During the French presidential campaign this spring, there were televised debates among candidates, as well as spot commercials. But, each candidate was given the same amount of air time. No matter how much money a candidate had, he/she could not buy extra television time. The issues, the candidates’ positions and record, determined the outcome – not their wallet.

Food/Wine. Both hard to beat. Crusty baguettes, flaky croissants, sinful pastries… and, my downfall, all the fabulous cheeses. Restaurant meals are generally excellent, and the wine is reasonable and good. A glass of wine at our neighborhood café, 3 Euros, ($3.65). As my husband and I like to imbibe with dinner at home, we buy table wine in five-liter boxes (almost seven bottles), from 13 Euros or $16 per box. And, we love to visit the numerous wineries in these parts for tasting and purchasing.

Tips Included. No need to get out your calculator and figure out what 15 or 20 percent of the total is for your tip. Service is included in French restaurants. If you are happy with the meal and service, you can leave a few extra Euros.

Politeness. The French, including children, are extremely polite and courteous. When entering a shop, a doctor’s waiting room, an office… they greet everyone with a “Bonjour Mesdames, Monsieurs.” They also kiss a lot, but more on that to follow.

Laissez-Faire. Life here is not over regulated. If you visit a tourist site at the edge of a high cliff, for example, there will be no fences or walls at the edge obstructing your view and keeping you from falling. It’s up to you to use caution and control your children.

Leisurely meals. The French appreciate good food and conversation. Meals, which consist of several courses, are not eat and run affairs. They can go on for hours. It’s enjoyable and relaxing.

There’s more I love about life here: the beautiful view of the Luberon hills from our balcony, the bounteous markets, colorful local festivals in the summer, poppies in the spring, lavender and sunflowers in the summer, the sunshine, the pool…

But, not all is perfect. At the top of my list of pet peeves are Business Hours which drive me crazy. Every shop, office, restaurant… has its own schedule. You need a spread sheet to keep track of it all, but be prepared for changes.

Here in southern France, almost everything closes for a long lunch hour, but how long? The bakery and grocery store in my small village are closed every afternoon between 12:30 and 4 p.m. The post office only closes between noon and 1:30 p.m. The pharmacy is closed from 12:30 to 3 p.m., plus Saturday afternoon and Monday morning. Restaurants are usually closed one or two days a week, but that varies with seasons. How to remember which one is closed which day during which season.?

What really gets me is “Fermeture Exceptionelle” (exceptional closing). Too often I have made a special trip to the bank in a nearby town only to see this sign at the door. No explanation. Go home and come back another day.

Driving Expenses. Gasoline is very expensive here – about 1.6 Euros per liter (about $7.80 per gallon). Tolls on the autoroute are also expensive. But this can be an advantage. Only during peak travel seasons (certain summer weekends for example) are there traffic jams on these super highways. You can usually sail along at a maximum speed of 130 km per hour, just over 80 mph.

Hunting Dogs. As an animal lover, it grieves me to see how these dogs are neglected and abused. Hunting is a popular sport in these parts, and most dedicated hunters keep several hunting dogs penned up year round. They are not treated as pets and are only released for the hunt. Many get lost and end up homeless. We once found a lost, friendly hunting dog wandering along a country road. We put him in the car and called the number on the collar it was wearing, then met the owner in a nearby town. Instead of being happy to see the animal, he grabbed it by the collar and tossed it into the back of his pick-up with several other sorry beasts. I was devastated, and regretted returning the poor dog to a miserable existence.

Punctuality. This is strange. If you invite French to your home, they generally show up on time. But, go to an event, be it a concert, a performance, or a community dinner, and be prepared to sit and wait at least a half hour, and more often up to an hour, before the show gets on the road. If it’s a performance, you may need to stay an extra half an hour for curtain calls. The French are overly enthusiastic and reward performers with endless clapping and cheering.

Much about the French lifestyle is neither bad nor good, but curious to an American. I’ll start with la bise (the kiss). It’s known that the French greet one another with an air kiss on the check, usually both cheeks, and sometimes more depending on which region of France they live in. I live in the department of Les Alpes de Haute Provence, just 20 minutes from the border of the department of Vaucluse. On our turf, it’s one kiss on each cheek. But, in Vaucluse, it’s three kisses, both cheeks, then back to the starting point for a final kiss. I invariably forget when I visit friends in Vaucluse and pull away after two kisses, only to have the friend, cheek turned, waiting for number three. Then there’s dilemma of which side first. How many times have I knocked heads with someone as we both turned in the same direction and crashed? The good ole American hug is easier.

August This is a mystery to me, but it seems everyone, and not just folks with school aged children, takes a vacance (vacation) in this hot summer month. Doctors’ offices are often closed for the month. Many businesses and offices, including the electric company, close during August. For those of us in the sunny south, August, as well as July, means an invasion: Parisians, Dutch, Belgians. Too many drive huge campers which clog the two-lane roads in this hilly region. Parking places in towns are at a premium. Lines at the bakery snake out the door and down the sidewalk. We’re happy when these tourists go home and life settles back to quiet normalcy.

Apero, short for aperitif and the French preferred way of entertaining. They often invite guests for apero, which can be potato chips, peanuts, and several glasses of wine or pastis (the favored anise drink of Provence) or an array of elaborate snacks which can be a meal. In general, dinner parties are for close friends and family.

I could ramble on, but suffice it to say that God could do worse, much worse.

If you’d like to read more of my tales and adventures, click on “Email Subscription” at top right of post. Comments are welcome. Click “Leave a Reply”

What to do with all that summer produce? Check out my recipe for Great Gazpacho, my summer favorite. Scroll down the recipe column at far right.

New Zealand’s Extraordinary Fiordland

It’s all about scenery: dramatic, magnificent, mystical. We awoke on board a ship in Doubtful Sound, the largest of the area’s 14 fiords, to watch the sun creep over the towering cliffs which surrounded us, casting mirror images of the mountains on the sparkling water. The only sound was a raging waterfall plunging from high above into the deep inlet. Waterfowl flew above.

We were in awe, mesmerized by the splendor of nature, the beauty all around in this desolate paradise. Every day during our five-day visit to the region last November was filled with more overwhelming, spectacular sights.

On New Zealand’s South Island, Fiordland National Park is a World Heritage area and the country’s largest national park. The fiords, narrow inlets with steep sides carved by glacial activity, indent Fiordland’s West Coast. In addition to exploring the fiords by boat, you can hike legendary trails in the mountains, trek through primeval forests and enjoy thrilling views from a seaplane.

Husband Bob and I did a bit of all. We also enjoyed an exciting boat adventure in a Glowworm Cave through eerie darkness to a grotto where thousands of tiny glowworms glimmered on the walls. It was hard to believe this was a natural phenomenon and not an amusement park attraction.

Our Fiordland base was the town of Te Anau from where we set off for our first fiord excursion to Milford Sound. Early European settlers who were not familiar with fiords called them “sounds” which are actually river valleys flooded due to land sinking below sea level.

A bus trip on the Milford Road through the National Park leads to the Sound. There’s grandiose mountain scenery en route, with stops for photos. And, once on board the ship sailing through the fiord’s National Geographic scenery, it’s hard to put the camera down.

On the way back to Te Anau, we stopped for a hike led by a guide to a summit. We crawled under fallen logs en route, jumped over streams, through woods to open spaces above the tree line with superb views in every direction. By the time we reached the top it was raining. Our guide pulled out a thermos from his backpack and served us tea and cookies in the drizzle.

More hiking, but at a lower elevation, was on the next day’s agenda, a nature walk along Lake Te Anu through a dense beech forest. The guide provided fascinating commentary on the flora and fauna, including the illusive kiwi, the country’s flightless nocturnal bird and national symbol.

Moss thrives in this dark green paradise and can be a meter deep. Step off trail and onto the lush carpet which is like a sponge, squishy strange to sink into. Along the trail all sizes and varieties of forest ferns grow in abundance. Kiwis (the people) are passionate about the environment and especially their bird population. Our guide pointed out many species, including ducks which nest in tree tops.

Fiordland, we learned, has 200 rain days per year, dumping between six to eight meters of water each year. During our Doubtful Sound cruise, we experienced some of that rain. But it not dampen the spirits of those on board who wanted to try sea kayaking. After our miserable failure with this sport which plunged us into the icy sea (see previous post: Misadventures in New Zealand), we stayed safe and dry on board.

During our cruise through this remote and romantic fiord, we saw penguins, seals and dolphins. We marveled at haunting dark skies and fantastic cloud formations.

A different but exciting boat ride ended our Fiordland visit. We boarded a speedy jet boat on the Upper Waiau River to Lake Manapouri. From our craft we boarded a float plane – tricky to get on this plane which was bobbing in the water – for a thrilling aerial view of the stunning countryside.

Rudyard Kipling called Milford Sound “the eighth wonder of the world” I think the same could be said for all of Fiordland.

For more on Fiordland, see http://www.fiordland.org.nz

Watch the slide show below for more outstanding scenery. For summer grilling, try my old standby: Grilled Pork Tenderloin with Mustard Cream Sauce. See the Recipe list on the right.

If you’d like to read more of my tales and adventures, click on “Email Subscription” at top right of post. Comments are welcome. Click “Leave a Reply”

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Down Under Delights – and Disappointments

“Be sure to climb the Sydney Bridge. It’s amazing,” friends advised. So, on our visit Down Under last November, we did —and are $524 Australian dollars poorer. (The Australian dollar is about at par with the U.S. dollar.)

Yes, $212 per person for this “once in a lifetime” experience. Who could afford to do it twice?

Our conclusion: A rip off. Not that the experience was without thrilling moments. And, the views are dynamite. But, think of the gourmet meals that $524 could have purchased.

We joined a group of 12 others for the 3 ½ hour adventure. The first hour was spent getting attired: a loose fitting protective body suit with a belt from which a carabiner dangled, a head set, a baseball cap. Then, practice. We had to climb and descend a ladder, attaching and releasing the carabiner to a cable. For security, climbers are attached to a cable throughout the climb. We listened to safety briefings, warnings etc. The adrenalin was in high gear.

At last we were off – a single file behind the guide who kept up a commentary heard on the head set. The first part in the guts of the mammoth steel structure was not too exciting, just lots of steps and long stretches across cat walks. Once we started climbing outdoors, precariously on the edge of the bridge, a strong wind whipped around us. We were so high, it seemed as if we could touch the sky, and the water below appeared to be miles and miles away. It was all exhilarating with spectacular views in every direction.

We stopped for photos. But, not with our cameras. Personal cameras are not permitted – too dangerous. An official bridge photographer was on the scene. Each couple or individual was photographed with the appropriate spectacular background. This took time, too much time. There were five of these stops, each with a slightly different background. And, we usually had to wait for the group ahead to finish before our group moved up to the perfect photo slot.

Plenty of time to ponder the scenery, and to look down. The Sydney Harbour Bridge, at 440 feet from top to water, is the world’s tallest steel arch bridge. That’s a huge drop, and scary to view. The guide added to the fright factor with tales of those who plunged to their deaths. Sixteen workers died during construction which was completed in 1932. The sight that amazed me during the climb was a lonely bird in his nest built on steel beams that had to be higher than any tree.

The finale of the “climb of your life” was aggravating. After we had changed back into our street clothes, we proceeded to a room with pretty young girls sitting behind computer monitors. Here’s where we could get those photos, we thought. We were right. Give your name and your individual photos pop up on the screen. For a mere extra $25.95 per photo, you could purchase a picture souvenir. We passed, content with the one complimentary group shot.

Others in the group (the elderly gentleman from Chicago, the honeymoon couple, the couple celebrating a birthday…) eagerly parted with the extra cash for the pricey souvenirs. They all seemed happy with their costly climb. Perhaps we’re jaded?

After the experience, we headed to a nearby pub for a much needed beer. We related our disappointment to the bartender. “I wouldn’t do it. You can walk across the bridge for free. It’s not worth it,” he said. We agree.

While the bridge climb left us somewhat underwhelmed, we were overwhelmed with the Sydney Opera House. During a guided tour, we learned the fascinating background to this iconic structure. Both inside and out, it seems so ultra modern. Yet, it was constructed between 1959 and 1973. Glass for the gigantic windows came from France. The ceramic tiles on the exterior are from Sweden. Its exotic shape of undulating sails permits self-cleaning by the rain. The acoustics in the large auditoriums are such that no microphones are needed….

Danish architect Jorn Utson designed the incredible structure. Building costs far exceeded original projections. In 1966 due to a conflict over finances with a new minister of public works, Utson resigned, vowing never to return to Australia. He died in 2008 without seeing his completed masterpiece, which was declared a UNESCO World Heritage site in 2007.

Other delights of the Sydney visit included the city’s bustling fish market, a ferry excursion to Manly where we watched surfers – and our reasonable room ($135 per night) with an exceptional harbor view at the Macleay Apartment Hotel (www.themacleay.com).

We found Sydney – actually all of Australia – expensive. Here we had a mini kitchen so we could save on meal costs. The hotel location in Potts Point was ideal with both delis and a super market nearby for purchase of take-home, ready-to-eat meals.

Well-traveled friends also advised that we visit the Great Barrier Reef during our sojourn in Australia. Many, many year ago, I took the required course and earned scuba diver certification. I’ve only been on a few dives, but as the Great Barrier is said to be one of the world’s best diving sites, I had to experience it.

We flew from Sydney to Cairns where we rented a car for a 1 ½ hour drive north to Port Douglas, an inviting seaside town of restaurants, quaint shops – and excursion boats to the Great Barrier Reef. Husband Bob is not a diver, but he joined the party, 80 tourists, on the dive/snorkel boat.

I was nervous since I had not been diving in so long. I joined a “beginners” group and once in the water, my confidence returned. The coral formations were intriguing, even mystifying. But, they were dull — beige and bland in color. A far cry from the vivid colors of the postcards. And, the fish were not as plentiful as the postcards depict. I did see a gigantic clam, a ray glued to the bottom, some bright yellow fish. I submerged three different times, but each time returned to the surface a bit disillusioned.

I was not the only one. Several on board expressed the same feelings. One diver said there were too many of us. We scared the fish away. Later someone said the coral had been killed by El Nino. (According to an article on the web, El Nino bleaches the coral.) Jakob, the friendly proprietor of our Port Douglas hotel, said you need to get accustomed to the underwater surroundings, to adjust your eyes, and then you will see color. “All those postcard photos are made with strobe lights,” he explained.

I am still happy I had the chance to dive again, but what really made me happy was a swim in an idyllic pool at the Mossman Gorge in the Daintree National Park not far from Port Douglas. For me, swimming is right up there after skiing. This body of clear, cool water with huge granite boulders along the sides, as well as in the middle, surrounded by lush jungle, was a bit of paradise. The pool is in a section of the Mossman River, touted as “without crocodiles.” But, there were lots of birds, including a wild turkey poking among the picnickers along the shore.

We saw more feathered friends at Habitat, a fun place where you can dine in a large enclosed area among birds, small and large and brightly colored, who fly above, prance around on the ground, squeak, chirp, sing, and screech. A caretaker walks by and gladly perches a bird on your shoulder. Habitat also has more wildlife: kangaroos, koalas, wallabies, crocodiles.

We rented bikes for the trip to Habitat, just outside of Port Douglas, and rode back along the beach, which, except for a jogger or two, was deserted, even though it was a hot, sunny day. Jelly fish, we learned.

The Palm Villas, our home in Port Douglas, was ideal – reasonable, excellent location, lovely pool, helpful proprietor. We paid about $95 per night for a spacious studio apartment with kitchen and balcony on a quiet street. www.palmvillas.com.au

In case you’re tempted, more on Sydney Bridge climb at www.bridgeclimb.com More on diving excursions in the Great Barrier Reef: www.poseidonpcruises.com.au

Have you been to Australia, climbed the bridge, been diving at the Great Barrier Reef? Share your views. Click on “Leave a Reply” after the slideshow below.

If you’d like to read more of my tales and adventures, click on “Email Subscription” at top right of post. New Zealand’s magnificent Fiordland coming soon. And, a new recipe appears with each new post.

Learn about the famous melons of Provence. Try a tasty melon salad. See “Melon Salad with Feta and Pine Nuts” under recipes at right.

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Meandering around Melbourne

This was the best part of our visit to Australia. It’s all due to the warm and generous hospitality of our friends Meg and Brendan Downie who took great pains to show us the sights and treat us to excellent meals and superb wines, not to mention comfortable accommodations at their attractive home in Donvale outside the city.

We met Meg and Brendan years ago when we lived in Germany where we were members of the Porsche Club. I had a Porsche 944 (considered by many not to be a real Porsche), but it was my baby, my pride and joy, which I drove for 17 happy years. Brendan had both a Porsche 356 and 911. He still has these, and a 1936 Ford. Attendance at a Porsche event was a highlight of our visit.

Plus, a spectacular drive through the Mornington Peninsula, the Yarra Valley, a visit to an animal sanctuary, an aborigine art gallery and more.

During a visit downtown, I had the opportunity to talk to John McGaw, senior business development manager with Destination Melbourne. “I’ve worked in the tourism and wine industry for years,” he said. “I’ve lived in Syndey, Adelaide and now Melbourne. I prefer Melbourne. It’s such a friendly city. Everything is easy here…We’re a shopping and dining capital.” The city has 80 different kinds of ethnic restaurants, he pointed out.

According to John, Melbourne, a city of almost four million, was just voted “the world’s most livable city.” “It’s as safe a city as you’ll find anywhere,” he boasted. Tourism is important to the multi-cultural city, with China considered the largest future market, followed by India. Then there’s Greece. John said that Melbourne has the second largest population of Greeks after Greece. “They’ve been coming here for 40 years.” The city’s Greek Quarter, as well as Chinatown, is fun to visit. For Vietnamese fare, there’s Victoria Street lined with noodle shops and grocery stores.

The downtown is lively, vibrant, with street entertainers, hucksters, and plenty to admire, including 50 shopping arcades, the oldest, the Black Arcade, dating to 1892. John recommended we visit an old world Victorian tea shop whose window was filled with luscious pastries. The place is so popular, we had to stand in line to wait for a seat.

Federation Square is an innovative mix of glass and steel structures with shops, cafes, restaurants, and bars — and the venue for some 2,000 events every year. Docklands on Victoria Harbor offers more shopping and dining opportunities. The Queen Victoria Market is food paradise. Meg and Brendan shop there every Saturday, visiting favorite stands for fruits and veggies, as well as delis and bakeries.

Within just 90 minutes of the city center, stunning scenery awaits. We made many photo stops on our drive through the Mornington Peninsula. The Yarra Valley, a wine growing region, is also picturesque with wineries where you can stop to taste fine chardonnays, pinot noirs and more. Our drives took us though areas devastated by the Black Saturday bushfires of 2009 which ravaged southeastern Australia —— past slope after slope of still barren trees.

Wildlife is a major attraction in Australia. Meg took time from her duties as ward councilor for a visit to friend Neil Abbott, a jovial farmer with 100 acres where 70 – 80 kangaroos usually hang out. As luck would have it, the beasts were missing the day we visited. The day before there had been a major fire drill with helicopters hovering over the area. The noise drove the kangaroos away, but we did spot one or two during a tour with Neil in his four-wheel drive vehicle through the hilly terrain. And, we learned about kangaroos.

“The aborigines used to eat them. The dingoes (Australian wild dog) used to eat them. But now they have no natural enemies,” Neil said. So, they proliferate and become pests, destroying trees and fences. They sharpen their claws on the tree bark. “Their claws are longer than your finger,” he explained. Some people shoot them, but this is an outrage. “People are up in arms about those who shoot our national emblem,” he said. He can no longer farm due to the kangaroo population on his land, but he won’t shoot the animals.

“The kangaroos are a wild animal. They should be in the bush. It’s cruel to have them in these areas where they are chased by dogs, where they ruin fences, and are a danger to cars and people… I believe there are a lot of accidents, people killed, veering to avoid hitting a kangaroo,” he said.

During our drive through his farm, Neil said he had a surprise for us. He knew where a wombat lived and would take us there. He got out and went ahead down a hill. “Be quiet…he’s here,” he told us. We crept behind, me with camera ready. Voila, I focused on a furry brown head. Wait, something seemed amiss. It did not move. It looked a bit suspicious. No wonder. It was a stuffed wombat Neil had buried under leaves – a joke he often plays on naïve visitors.

We saw more wildlife on a visit to the Healesville Sanctuary where demonstrations and lectures on the various critters are scheduled throughout the day. The Koalas drew big crowds.

Colin McKinnon is another friend Meg took us to visit. His Mia Mia Gallery features an amazing collection of beautiful aboriginal art. The gallery is owned by aborigines, and the profits are returned to aborigine communities. Colin, himself an aboriginal artist, explained the symbolism of many of the intricate and colorful works, and he generously gave me a print which now hangs in our living room, a treasured souvenir of our memorable visit to Melbourne.

More on the Mia Mia Gallery at www.miamiagallery.com

More on Melbourne at www.destinationmelbourne.com.au

More on the Healesville Sanctuary at www.zoo.org.au

For more views of Melbourne and surroundings, watch the following slideshow. For a taste of Greece, whose influence is prominent in Melbourne, try Meg’s Baklava, recipe in column at right.

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