I will upload the four pictures from the original to www.lesnpat.smugmug.com - see blog chapter 12 album.
Chapter 12 - two decades of travels to
Australia - and Fare Comment
Through the 70s and 80s the Dickasons, together or singly, made eight trips to Australia. This produced a familiarity with the airports in Vancouver, Los Angeles, Honolulu, Sydney, Melbourne [and later Brisbane] and with the economy class on Qantas 747s before the non-stop or one-stop flights were introduced.
On each journey to go ‘downunder,’ there was an annoying stop to claim luggage and tote it in LAX during a change of terminals. After landing in Sydney and covering mouth and nose to avoid inhaling the spraying of the interior of the plane by Agriculture officials, queuing for luggage and for Customs and Immigration processing, there was another lengthy transfer involving a bus ride around the international terminal to the domestic terminal for connecting flights to Melbourne or Brisbane. The total time spent, door to door from Nanaimo to either suburban Melbourne or to the Gold Coast, was almost exactly 24 hours.
The return flight went through Honolulu where all passengers continuing to North America left the plane and were quarantined in a huge holding lounge until two other Qantas planes arrived - one from New Zealand and the other from either Sydney or Brisbane. Passengers were then directed to board; one flight destined for LA, one to Vancouver, the third to Toronto. If any of the inbound aircraft were late, then all three outward-bound planes were delayed until all three ‘skippies’ [Australian slang for the Qantas 747s with the kangaroo painted on the tail] were side by side ready for re-boarding.
This holding lounge routine began with the three planes scheduled to land at 11pm and leave at 1am - there were hundreds of very tired, grumpy passengers in this section of the terminal, with no air-conditioning and no services open so late apart from one tiny bar which quickly became crowded, and usually ran out of supplies.
When we left Australia in 1969, Pat’s mother and father were in Bendigo, and Les’ mother, Grace, was in a suburb of Melbourne, so we considered our travel to Australia important while parents were living. Pat, unfortunately had two trips to Australia in 1971 when her mother was diagnosed with cancer and died months later. Our two remaining parents lived well into the 1990s so we were able to visit them often into that decade too.
Other trips, for Pat and Les together, were happier times, with a whirl of visits to family and friends in a variety of locations. If the journey were over a Christmas vacation, the Dickasons enjoyed the warmth of the early summer; if it were in July, then there was considerable shivering in Victoria, but pleasant weather for the Queensland portion of the trip. Another of Pat’s solo journeys was to Melbourne to attend the wedding of her sister Margaret to her second husband David.
One Christmas visit to Australia coincided with a heat wave. The Dickasons had three festive dinners that year, one each with families in Bendigo and Melbourne and one with friends from University days in Warrandyte in the Dandenong hills outside Melbourne. While being able to celebrate the season with family and friends was a treat, the travel between the three sites over three days brought testing conditions. The rental car had air-conditioning, but when it had been sitting outdoors in shade or sun while we dined and wined, it meant that we drove for quite some distance in a very hot car before the over-worked A/C made any impression.
In particular, on the 26th of December, when we drove into the hills outside Melbourne for that third Christmas dinner the temperature peaked at 42C. Our host Norm had planned to barbeque the roast outside, but, with a day of ‘acute fire danger’ declared, no naked flame outside was permitted. The roast was in the oven instead, and that raised the temperature of the kitchen and dining room. Fortunately the house had a swimming pool, and we developed a routine of eating a course [with the special wine chosen by our host] on the shaded verandah, going out for a quick, cooling ‘dip’ in the pool, eating another course and so on.
When it was time to leave this idyllic, though scorching, bush setting, we carefully placed towels on the front seats of the car so that there would not be burns on Dickason bare legs [Christmas dinner attire was shorts and T-shirts in the heat].
On one other December visit, as the Dickasons returned to Melbourne after dinner in Bendigo, we passed through a stretch of highway where a ‘bush fire’ had crossed earlier in the day. Blackened trees, fence posts and some smouldering grasses were visible on both sides of the road, with the smoke and ash still hanging in the air. Quite a contrast to December on green Vancouver Island.
George, Pat’s father, remarried, and the couple moved to a house in Runaway Bay, Queensland, just north of the city, Gold Coast. This complicated the Dickason travels in Australia, but added an interesting variety to weather and activities. The house there was across the road from the sheltered ocean water, and it backed onto one of the canals which dominated the suburban areas of that region. George had bought a runabout dinghy with a small outboard engine, so in the mornings or after dinner, the Dickasons motored slowly around the area enjoying the sea air and the varied views of houses and gardens from the canals.
Friends of George had larger and more powerful motor yachts moored at the plentiful marinas nearby, and Les and George were invited to join an owner on fishing trips in the calm waters on several occasions. While the drinking aboard was not at the same level as that in previously mentioned firewood collection trips, there were traditions which involved opening cans of beer and drinking if the fish were not biting, and opening and drinking when they did. The wagering on the first fish to be
caught, largest fish caught, and most fish caught seemed to involve bottles of wine rather than cash.
One example that demonstrated that it is ‘a small world after all’ came during a visit to Runaway Bay. The friend who proposed the toast at the Dickason’s wedding had moved from Bendigo to a lovely home in Sanctuary Cove, not far from Runaway Bay. Invited to a barbecue lunch with Laurie and Sue, the Dickasons went into and through the village on the waterfront, after first driving through the fantastic golf course. The design and facilities in the village were reminiscent of developments such as Granville Island in Vancouver.... modern architecture, lots of glass, trendy small shops such as a bakery, deli, coffee shop, and a large hotel complex.
When lunch was served on the patio, Sue offered a basket insisting we had to try her favourite bread from the village bakery. Pat tasted the bread and immediately recognized it as ‘sourdough walnut.’ Sue was astonished that her Canadian visitors knew the bread, but we informed her that it was the bread served in the dining room associated with the culinary arts program at Malaspina College in Nanaimo. We speculated that someone in the village had acquired the recipe. Laurie pulled a village brochure from his bookshelf and discovered that the chef who set up the restaurants and cafes in the hotel, and the deli and bakery in the village, was on loan for two years from the chef training program at Malaspina College.
Over the two decades, the Dickasons were able to spend quality time with nephews and nieces on both sides of the family. At times this was simply playtime in the water in the pool in Bendigo [see photo at left with niece Cecelia]; at other times it was backyard cricket or basement table tennis with nephews in Melbourne. On one slightly extended Christmas trip the Dickasons went with brother-in-law Gordon and his eldest son Andy to Kooyong for a day watching the Australian Open tennis when grass courts were still in use there for the championship.
Outside the family visits, the Dickasons arranged visits to or dinners with friends from University or Teachers’ College days. There were drives or train trips from Melbourne to nearby Geelong where Alan and Helen entertained royally in their flat and the one next door. These friends owned a one storey block of six flats; they lived in one, used another as dining room, wine storage and guest bedroom, and had tenants providing income in the remaining four. Alan and Helen shared our interest in travel and wine and food so that meant frequent trips to Geelong, and barbecues in all weather [and sometimes for breakfast as well as lunch or dinner], with appropriate matching wines.
Helen had a relative with a house up the hill from the beach in Airey’s Inlet on the Great Ocean Road west of Geelong, and on two occasions the wine and food party moved there for a few nights. With bellbirds as alarm clocks, rosellas coming to feeders on the verandah, and access to fresh ‘crayfish‘ and crab at nearby fishing docks, it was a relaxing break from visiting relatives.
Pat had been bridesmaid for college friend Marge and husband David, and during this period they moved from a suburb of Melbourne to a house across the road from the beach in Salamander Bay on the coast of New South Wales. To visit them, the Dickasons rented a car in Sydney and drove north to Newcastle, then on to Salamander Bay. If this was to be included in a trip downunder, it was either upon first arrival in Sydney before continuing to Melbourne or Brisbane, or at the end of the time in Australia.
Staying there added yet more variety to the Australian jaunts. David was a keen tennis player and Les was soundly beaten in most games against this rated ‘junior- senior’ player. The couple also owned a 9 metre sailboat, and weather permitting, leisurely day trips were enjoyed by the quartet. At the end of the foreshore was a dock where the haul of oysters was sold daily. These were the small ‘Sydney rock oysters’ and coming home with a bucket of four or five dozen of these provided, after shucking and swearing, an appetizer course fit for royalty - with white wines from the nearby Hunter River wineries, of course.
their respective spouses. Les, Alan, Barry, Graeme and Norm had met originally when in residence at the hostel and attending Melbourne University in the early 60s. All but Norm had married since, and all had managed to visit Nanaimo or Victoria, so had memories of dining at our table and at our favourite restaurants and sampling wines from the Nanaimo cellar. Those in Melbourne and nearby arranged to come together each time the Dickasons were ‘in town.’ With BYO [bring your own bottle] being legal in Victoria, Australia, the dinners at quality restaurants were especially memorable from the wine aspect.
Over the two decades of travel to Australia, a tradition was established of a dinner out in Melbourne or Geelong with friends from the Queens Road hostel and
One wine in particular soon became a regular feature - Grange Hermitage. This Penfolds wine was originally made by winemaker Max Schubert in the 50s. Negative critical reviews and poor sales led management to forbid the production of Grange, but Schubert continued each year in secret. When the wine aged and eventually became very popular, Schubert was told to resume production, and the wine world found that he had not missed a vintage of this blockbuster.
Each of the participants in our dinner group had discovered this wine previously, and all had a few vintages stored for special occasions. Having Dickasons visiting for dinner was considered such an occasion, and for some evenings there were three of four bottles of Grange included on the table.
The Dickasons discovered that these Australian visits were not particularly restful. There were relatives and friends who naturally demanded their turn at hosting either overnight stays or lunches and dinners. The wonderful hospitality was sometimes overwhelming, and the travel from city to city in borrowed or rental cars became a chore rather than a pleasure. The Dickasons did experiment with taking
some time for themselves, the most memorable being a break in the journey after a hectic whirlwind visit to Australia in July of 1985 - a few days in Fiji.
Unfortunately the getaway started off on the wrong foot before we left Australia. We boarded the Continental jet at the Sydney international terminal around 7pm, along with a Fijian rugby team, their large spouses and many children, only to hear that there was a mechanical problem with the plane’s hydraulics. Orange juice and water were served, but no dinner. The problem had not been solved by late evening; all passengers were asked to return to the terminal where there was a long line at Immigration with just one official to process the passengers who were considered to be entering Australia, just hours after having been processed as leaving the country. Luggage was the next hassle - crowds of large Fijians, athletes and others, were not very patient by this time.
The next line was for assignment to an airport hotel room for the night and for instructions about the resumption of the flight the next morning. There was yet another line to board the shuttle bus to the hotels, and at the Hilton where the DIckasons would be spending the night, there was a line to register and receive keys and food vouchers. Hungry, the Dickasons went in search of food, but it was now too late for the cafe and restaurant, and the bar was crowded with passengers devouring the nuts and nibbles on the tables as they drank beer and settled in for a sing-along. For the first and only time, the Dickasons raided a mini-bar for snacks.
It was a short night because the instructions were to be out of the hotel ready to board a bus to the terminal at 5.30am - buffet breakfast served at 4.45! The morning was a reverse repeat of the previous evening - line for bus, line to check-in, line for Immigration, line to board. When the plane did take off, there was a loud cheer and a round of applause - and though the Dickasons desperately wanted to catch forty winks, the rugby team members were not interested in sleep and partied all the way to Nadi airport.
Although the Dickasons had been told that Continental would contact the Fijian resort where they were due to spend three nights, the front desk at the resort claimed they had no contact from the airline and had cancelled the reservation. There was another room, at a higher price than the early bird reservation, or we could be moved to a sister resort some miles away. Pat and Les were almost punch-
drunk with tiredness at this point and accepted the higher priced room and went to bed immediately after a shower.
The plan for a rest break on the way back to Nanaimo had back-fired - though the beach [see photo at right], the walks around the beautifully landscaped gardens, the island cuisine and beer did produce some relaxation before the time came to return to the airport to fly back through Los Angeles.
This experiment with breaking the journey was not repeated, though in the 90s and since, there was an alternative which proved much more relaxing, and this will feature in a later chapter.
Fare Comment - mainly local travel for this part-time job
Some professional changes in the 80s eventually resulted in more flexibility for travel and some time to experiment with interests outside Education. After a year as a Principal [of the ‘best little junior secondary in the west’ - Cedar Junior] Les moved to the district office as Director of Instruction, then a year later, Assistant Superintendent for S.D. 68. Regular travel to all schools was an obligation of these positions, as was attendance at evening meetings of school trustees and parent advisory groups. As a volunteer on the provincial executive of the BC Principals’ and Vice Principals’ Association then the B.C. School Superintendents’ Association, there were also weekend meetings in Vancouver and conferences to organize.
One set of car journeys as Assistant Superintendent was not pleasant. With cutbacks in funding, the district had to issue lay-off notices to almost 80 teachers, and Les and the Superintendent opted to hand deliver the notices rather than mail them. Though the young teachers [many hired by Les in the previous two years] appreciated the personal touch, Les found this obligation combined with the 80 plus hour work weeks and the spear-catching nature of the Assistant Superintendent role less than professionally satisfying. So, when the district created a position of Director of Programs and Professional Development, Les applied, was interviewed, and did a lateral arabesque move out of the District Office and transferred to the Curriculum Resource Centre.
This new position resulted in fewer hours and evening meetings, and on a whim Les approached the editor of a local paper to ask whether his writing a food and wine or restaurant review column might be possible. Surprisingly he emerged from the meeting with an agreement to write a column every two weeks for a year with likely extensions. There were some conditions; Les had to use his name, not a nom de plume, and because restaurants might be advertisers, no review could be highly critical.
Twice a month, the Dickasons made a reservation at a restaurant under an assumed name and went for dinner. With a small dictaphone in a jacket or shirt pocket, Les was able to read and discuss the menu items with Pat [his ‘companion’ in the column], and as the Dickasons discussed the courses, decor and service, the recording made obvious note-taking unnecessary.
In the days following each such meal, a draft review was completed, and a revised final version delivered to the newspaper office - on a floppy disk [remember those?]. The reviews appeared under the title “Fare Comment” and the first year stretched into two more before the Dickasons decided to retire this venture.
Writing these columns produced some unexpected consequences and some delightful surprises. Some restaurant owners and chefs phoned the Dickasons to suggest free dinners or special treatment if we visited and reviewed their establishment. We declined all such offers, informing the callers that if we visited it would be unannounced and we would pay for our dining. Strangers phoned with questions such as “my cousin from Texas is coming to Vancouver, where should I take him for the best Tex-Mex dinner?”
During these column-writing years, we suspected that some friends were reluctant to invite us to dinner, feeling a bit intimidated by our reputation and expertise perhaps. We did our best to alleviate their fears, and the very closest of friends were not concerned in this way.
The editor permitted special columns on some of our favourite places out of Nanaimo, so the Dickasons travelled to Tofino for the special food truck [SOBO], to Victoria and Vancouver, and to special inns such as Hastings House on Salt Spring Island and Sooke Harbour House just outside Victoria, before either of these became trendy and relatively unaffordable for ordinary folk. A month after the Sooke Harbour House column appeared, a pleasant surprise came in the mail; an unsolicited gift certificate from owner Phillip for a dinner and overnight stay for two.
There were other calls from owners or chefs with comments on diner behaviour after a column featuring the restaurant had been published. The Fare Comment ‘award’ for a nomination for “dessert of the year” was printed just after the chef had removed the dish from the menu, and with so many diners asking for it, he had been obliged to put the dish back on the menu. Others commented on the doubling of orders for a specific dish after a flattering review appeared.
Though the column has not appeared for over twenty years, Dickasons still encounter Nanaimo strangers who ask “Didn’t you write that food column?” and indicate that they always read it. The perceptive ones pointed out that they knew when we did not really like a restaurant - “no adjectives was the clue” - they had deciphered the code the Dickasons used to follow the rules of the editor but be ethical in reviewing less than satisfactory food or service.
Also dredged from the past by foodie friends is a reference to Les and his column with the ‘Jonathan Swift’ typographical error which caused great enjoyment for those who noticed. In describing a dish at a well-established Nanaimo steakhouse, Les had written, “for the very hungry diner, there is a combination platter which offers steak, pork and chicken with rice, potatoes and fresh vegetables.” However, when the column was published, the third of the three proteins was replaced by the word “children.” The owner of the restaurant was not amused! The observant friends of the Dickasons were.
This writing hobby ended when the Dickason’s realized that they were obliged to eat out more often than they really wanted at places they would not normally frequent, and having to eat out every second week at different places reduced the opportunity to dine at favourite restaurants. The resignation was not due to the number of Pat’s friends who asked her, in confidence, “Do you know who this companion is he dines with and writes about in the column?”
To set the record straight, the newspaper The Nanaimo Times” did not pay for the meals. They paid a small amount per column [about the cost of a dinner for one]. But before readers feel sorry for the Dickasons, Les had registered a private consulting company [L.D. Services] and travel expenses and half the cost of the meals which resulted in reviews were put through the company accounts and resulted in some tax advantages.
One lasting benefit of this ‘part-time’ job was that the Dickasons made friends with owners and chefs from the restaurants. The first restaurant reviewed was the Mahle House in Cedar, a rural district to the south of Nanaimo. Co-owner Delbert, and waitress Ginny became an integral part of a food and wine group of friends who enjoyed many dinner parties in private homes, and there was one special dinner one night at the Mahle House with a local version of the ‘Grange night’ as an echo of Australian experiences. And since that first review the Mahle House Garden Party with buffet lunch and serious wine-tastings was a feature of the Dickason July calendar, and birthdays and anniversaries have often been celebrated there.
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