Waltzing My Matilda Around Oz.

Maybe I should have titled this "Going Walk-About Down Under" - but it was really more of a waltz than a walk. Waltzed at a splashy family wedding, waltzed off to the races, waltzed through the Blue Mountains, and finally - almost, but not quite, waltzed cheek to cheek with a kangaroo!

And "waltzed" in the literal sense of the word too. As well as twisted, jived, shook, rattled and rolled during a memorable night at a Richmond (suburb of Sydney) club. The 3-person combo-two guitars and a crooner, backed up by electronic accompaniment-rip-roared through the ceiling. The floor was jammed, and the applause, deafening. The band called, "Face to Face" were wild-fire, and played selections from the fifties through to the nineties. The leader, of Face to Face, Terry Misra, an ex-Calcutta Anglo-Indian, is married to one of my cousins, and his group play at a number of clubs in the Sydney area. The Anglo-Indian New Year's Eve dance this year at the Blacktown Workers' Club drew more than 600 guests, and Terry donated his time and talents that night! Now…how's that for good old fashioned Anglo-Indian generosity!

At the Blue Mountains: Phyllis, the Beardsleys, Derek and Fred

On arrival in Sydney on Christmas Day, I linked up with sister Phyllis and hubby, Derek (they travel to and from Australia as though it was just a bus-ride away!) and my cousins, Noelene and Lionel Beardsley. Along with the rest of the gang, I kissed the pokey machines at various neighbourhood clubs- but couldn't persuade the slots to turn hot enough to transform me into an instant millionaire. We listened to bell-birds (they go "tink-tonk, tinkety-tinkety-tonk") along the Colo River in the Wollemi National Park, tippled shandies while picnicking in the shade of the Wallabadah Rock, Australia's second-largest monolithic rock (no prizes for guessing the biggest one), gawked at grisly exhibits of murderous maniacs at Sydney's Police Museum and discovered that sheep-shearing wasn't as glamorous an occupation as it sounded.

Sheep Shearing at Gledswood

The gathering of the clan at a family wedding gave both Phyl and myself theopportunity of catching up with all our many first, second and third cousins who would otherwise have been scattered across Australia. Their families (our grandparents' generation) emigrated from India-some of them in the early 1900s-so today, of course they are all true blue Aussies. Nevertheless they still enjoy tucking into vindaloo or jhal frazie, and are happy to share reminiscences and swap tales about life during the Raj, as handed down to them through the generations. My cousin, Bernadette Earle, has compiled a collection of these anecdotal tales in a soft-cover book, "Indian Summer" and if anyone is interested in acquiring a copy ($20.00 plus postage costs) please give me a call, or send me an e-mail (see back cover for contact details). I have only six copies but will be glad to mail them out on a first-come-first-serve basis.

Call it serendipity, or coincidence, or what you will, but there is something eerie about travelling half way across the globe and meeting someone who was once part of one's long gone schooldays. Jackie Wallace (nee Rowley) and I shared a classroom at the Pratt Memorial School in Calcutta 48 years ago, and it was a thrill to see her again in Canberra, meet her husband Jeff, reminisce about old school chums, giggle over the foibles of our teachers and catch up with all that has happened in our respective lives during the intervening years. It is this sort of happenstance that plays out time and again at our Anglo-Indian International Reunions, and the reason why we cherish the opportunity to congregate every three or four years and renew auld acquaintances.

The Harbour & Downtown Sydney

Priscilla & Richard Clements

While we enjoyed chatting with family and old buddies, it was also great to meet new friends like Priscilla and Richard Clements. Priscilla claims to be 56 years old, but it's hard to believe. She is as perky and chipper as an 18 year old-and sets the dance floor on fire when she goes into action! Richard is a cordon bleu cook (specially when it comes to making good old Anglo-Indian cuisine) with a gentle, charming manner. We can't wait to meet them again when they join us on our Alaska cruise in September.

Priscilla lived in Bombay at the same time as we did, and it didn't take long for us to discover that we had several good friends in common. Her dad, Dennis Amore (pronounced "Amo") represented the Anglo Indian Community as a Member of the Maharashtra Legislative Assembly during the 70s and was a man of many talents - social worker, sportsman, entrepreneur, and keen proponent of educational institutions such as the Bombay Scottish Orphanage.

There were some missed opportunities: Anglo-Indian jazz crooner, Marie Wilson was on the billboard of one of the clubs in the suburbs of Sydney, but unfortunately, I didn't catch this as I had to grab my flight back to Vancouver a couple of days prior to the date of her performance. Ah well…next time!

The Putty Road, New South Wales

That "next time" will, I hope, coincide with the Melbourne Reunion next January. My shorts, T-shirts, thongs will all be wrapped up in my trusty Matilda, and I'll be all set to "swag-ger" around Oz, listening to the kookaburras laughing in the old gum trees, nibbling at "chooks" sizzling on the barbie, swigging chilled 'beeeya' -and generally having a bonzer time, Aussie style!

Glenbawn Lake at Sunset

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