melbourne observer. 120725b. july 25, 2012. part b. pages pages 17-22, 29-40, 47-52

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Readers Club Photo Special

●●●●● Last Melbourne cable tram. Bourke St, near McPherson’s ●●●●● St Kilda Rd, Melbourne. 1982.

●●●●● Collins Street, Melbourne. 1955 ●●●●● Elizabeth Street, looking north. 1900.

●●●●● Opening tram, Deepdene to St Kilda. 1913. ●●●●● Digging up the old cable tramway, St Kilda Rd. 1925.

●●●●● Collins St, looking west from Swanston St. 1898. ●●●●● St Kilda. Late 1950s?

Melbourne Tramways Pictorial

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Les Misérables by Victor Hugo

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www.MelbourneObserver.com.au Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, July 25, 2012 - Page 29

his tread, he directed his steps to the door of theadjoining room, occupied by the Bishop, as wealready know.On arriving at this door, he found it ajar. TheBishop had not closed it.

son to see his way, intermittent on account ofthe clouds, resembled the sort of livid light whichfalls through an air-hole in a cellar, before whichthe passersby come and go. On arriving at thewindow, Jean Valjean examined it. It had nograting; it opened in the garden and was fas-tened, according to the fashion of the country,only by a small pin. He opened it; but as a rushof cold and piercing air penetrated the roomabruptly, he closed it again immediately. He scru-tinized the garden with that attentive gaze whichstudies rather than looks. The garden was en-closed by a tolerably low white wall, easy toclimb. Far away, at the extremity, he perceivedtops of trees, spaced at regular intervals, whichindicated that the wall separated the garden froman avenue or lane planted with trees.Having taken this survey, he executed a move-ment like that of a man who has made up hismind, strode to his alcove, grasped his knap-sack, opened it, fumbled in it, pulled out of itsomething which he placed on the bed, put hisshoes into one of his pockets, shut the wholething up again, threw the knapsack on his shoul-ders, put on his cap, drew the visor down overhis eyes, felt for his cudgel, went and placed itin the angle of the window; then returned to thebed, and resolutely seized the object which hehad deposited there. It resembled a short bar ofiron, pointed like a pike at one end. It wouldhave been difficult to distinguish in that dark-ness for what employment that bit of iron couldhave been designed. Perhaps it was a lever;possibly it was a club.In the daytime it would have been possible torecognize it as nothing more than a miner’scandlestick. Convicts were, at that period, some-times employed in quarrying stone from the loftyhills which environ Toulon, and it was not rarefor them to have miners’ tools at their command.These miners’ candlesticks are of massive iron,terminated at the lower extremity by a point, bymeans of which they are stuck into the rock.He took the candlestick in his right hand; hold-ing his breath and trying to deaden the sound of

His mind wavered for a whole hour in fluctua-tions with which there was certainly mingledsome struggle. Three o’clock struck. He openedhis eyes again, drew himself up abruptly into asitting posture, stretched out his arm and felt ofhis knapsack, which he had thrown down on acorner of the alcove; then he hung his legs overthe edge of the bed, and placed his feet on thefloor, and thus found himself, almost withoutknowing it, seated on his bed.He remained for a time thoughtfully in this atti-tude, which would have been suggestive of some-thing sinister for any one who had seen him thusin the dark, the only person awake in that housewhere all were sleeping. All of a sudden hestooped down, removed his shoes and placedthem softly on the mat beside the bed; then heresumed his thoughtful attitude, and becamemotionless once more.Throughout this hideous meditation, the thoughtswhich we have above indicated moved inces-santly through his brain; entered, withdrew, re-entered, and in a manner oppressed him; andthen he thought, also, without knowing why, andwith the mechanical persistence of revery, of aconvict named Brevet, whom he had known inthe galleys, and whose trousers had been up-held by a single suspender of knitted cotton. Thecheckered pattern of that suspender recurredincessantly to his mind.He remained in this situation, and would haveso remained indefinitely, even until daybreak,had not the clock struck one — the half or quar-ter hour. It seemed to him that that stroke said tohim, “Come on!”He rose to his feet, hesitated still another mo-ment, and listened; all was quiet in the house;then he walked straight ahead, with short steps,to the window, of which he caught a glimpse.The night was not very dark; there was a fullmoon, across which coursed large clouds drivenby the wind. This created, outdoors, alternateshadow and gleams of light, eclipses, then brightopenings of the clouds; and indoors a sort of twilight. This twilight, sufficient to enable a per-

At all events, his hoard had been reduced byvarious local levies to the sum of one hundredand nine francs fifteen sous, which had beencounted out to him on his departure. He hadunderstood nothing of this, and had thought him-self wronged. Let us say the word — robbed.On the day following his liberation, he saw, atGrasse, in front of an orange-flower distillery,some men engaged in unloading bales. He of-fered his services. Business was pressing; theywere accepted. He set to work. He was intelli-gent, robust, adroit; he did his best; the masterseemed pleased. While he was at work, a gen-darme passed, observed him, and demandedhis papers. It was necessary to show him theyellow passport. That done, Jean Valjean re-sumed his labor. A little while before he hadquestioned one of the workmen as to the amountwhich they earned each day at this occupation;he had been told thirty sous. When evening ar-rived, as he was forced to set out again on thefollowing day, he presented himself to the ownerof the distillery and requested to be paid. Theowner did not utter a word, but handed him fif-teen sous. He objected. He was told, “That isenough for thee.” He persisted. The masterlooked him straight between the eyes, and saidto him “Beware of the prison.”There, again, he considered that he had beenrobbed.Society, the State, by diminishing his hoard, hadrobbed him wholesale. Now it was the individualwho was robbing him at retail.Liberation is not deliverance. One gets free fromthe galleys, but not from the sentence.That is what happened to him at Grasse. Wehave seen in what manner he was received atD——

Continued on Page 30

●●●●● Victor Hugo

CHAPTER IX- continued

NEW TROUBLES

CHAPTER X

THE MAN AROUSED

As the Cathedral clock struck two in the morn-ing, Jean Valjean awoke.What woke him was that his bed was too good.It was nearly twenty years since he had slept ina bed, and, although he had not undressed, thesensation was too novel not to disturb his slum-bers.He had slept more than four hours. His fatiguehad passed away. He was accustomed not todevote many hours to repose.He opened his eyes and stared into the gloomwhich surrounded him; then he closed themagain, with the intention of going to sleep oncemore.When many varied sensations have agitated theday, when various matters preoccupy the mind,one falls asleep once, but not a second time.Sleep comes more easily than it returns. This iswhat happened to Jean Valjean. He could notget to sleep again, and he fell to thinking.He was at one of those moments when thethoughts which one has in one’s mind aretroubled. There was a sort of dark confusion inhis brain. His memories of the olden time and ofthe immediate present floated there pell-melland mingled confusedly, losing their properforms, becoming disproportionately large, thensuddenly disappearing, as in a muddy and per-turbed pool. Many thoughts occurred to him; butthere was one which kept constantly presentingitself afresh, and which drove away all others.We will mention this thought at once: he hadobserved the six sets of silver forks and spoonsand the ladle which Madame Magloire hadplaced on the table.Those six sets of silver haunted him.— Theywere there.— A few paces distant.— Just as hewas traversing the adjoining room to reach theone in which he then was, the old servant-woman had been in the act of placing them in alittle cupboard near the head of the bed.— Hehad taken careful note of this cupboard.— Onthe right, as you entered from the dining-room.—They were solid.— And old silver.— From theladle one could get at least two hundredfrancs.— Double what he had earned in nine-teen years.— It is true that he would have earnedmore if “the administration had not robbed him.”

Jean Valjean listened. Not a sound.He gave the door a push.He pushed it gently with the tip of his finger,lightly, with the furtive and uneasy gentleness ofa cat which is desirous of entering.The door yielded to this pressure, and made animperceptible and silent movement, which en-larged the opening a little.He waited a moment; then gave the door a sec-ond and a bolder push.It continued to yield in silence. The opening wasnow large enough to allow him to pass. But nearthe door there stood a little table, which formedan embarrassing angle with it, and barred theentrance.Jean Valjean recognized the difficulty. It wasnecessary, at any cost, to enlarge the aperturestill further.He decided on his course of action, and gavethe door a third push, more energetic than thetwo preceding. This time a badly oiled hingesuddenly emitted amid the silence a hoarse andprolonged cry.Jean Valjean shuddered. The noise of the hingerang in his ears with something of the piercingand formidable sound of the trump of the Day ofJudgment.In the fantastic exaggerations of the first mo-ment he almost imagined that that hinge hadjust become animated, and had suddenly as-sumed a terrible life, and that it was barking likea dog to arouse every one, and warn and to wakethose who were asleep. He halted, shuddering,bewildered, and fell back from the tips of histoes upon his heels. He heard the arteries in histemples beating like two forge hammers, and itseemed to him that his breath issued from hisbreast with the roar of the wind issuing from acavern. It seemed impossible to him that thehorrible clamor of that irritated hinge should nothave disturbed the entire household, like theshock of an earthquake; the door, pushed byhim, had taken the alarm, and had shouted; theold man would rise at once; the two old womenwould shriek out; people would come to theirassistance; in less than a quarter of an hour thetown would be in an uproar, and the gendarmerieon hand. For a moment he thought himself lost.He remained where he was, petrified like thestatue of salt, not daring to make a movement.Several minutes elapsed. The door had fallenwide open. He ventured to peep into the nextroom. Nothing had stirred there. He lent an ear.Nothing was moving in the house. The noisemade by the rusty hinge had not awakened anyone.This first danger was past; but there still reigneda frightful tumult within him. Nevertheless, hedid not retreat. Even when he had thought him-self lost, he had not drawn back. His only thoughtnow was to finish as soon as possible. He took astep and entered the room.This room was in a state of perfect calm. Hereand there vague and confused forms were dis-tinguishable, which in the daylight were papersscattered on a table, open folios, volumes piledupon a stool, an arm-chair heaped with cloth-ing, a prie-Dieu, and which at that hour wereonly shadowy corners and whitish spots. JeanValjean advanced with precaution, taking carenot to knock against the furniture. He could hear,at the extremity of the room, the even and tran-quil breathing of the sleeping Bishop.He suddenly came to a halt. He was near thebed. He had arrived there sooner than he hadthought for.Nature sometimes mingles her effects and herspectacles with our actions with sombre and in-telligent appropriateness, as though she desiredto make us reflect. For the last half-hour a largecloud had covered the heavens. At the momentwhen Jean Valjean paused in front of the bed,this cloud parted, as though on purpose, and a

CHAPTER XI

WHAT HE DOES


From Page 29

ray of light, traversing the long window, sud-denly illuminated the Bishop’s pale face. He wassleeping peacefully. He lay in his bed almostcompletely dressed, on account of the cold ofthe Basses–Alps, in a garment of brown wool,which covered his arms to the wrists. His headwas thrown back on the pillow, in the carelessattitude of repose; his hand, adorned with thepastoral ring, and whence had fallen so manygood deeds and so many holy actions, was hang-ing over the edge of the bed. His whole facewas illumined with a vague expression of satis-faction, of hope, and of felicity. It was morethan a smile, and almost a radiance. He boreupon his brow the indescribable reflection of alight which was invisible. The soul of the justcontemplates in sleep a mysterious heaven.A reflection of that heaven rested on the Bishop.It was, at the same time, a luminous transpar-ency, for that heaven was within him. Thatheaven was his conscience.At the moment when the ray of moonlight su-perposed itself, so to speak, upon that inwardradiance, the sleeping Bishop seemed as in aglory. It remained, however, gentle and veiledin an ineffable half-light. That moon in the sky,that slumbering nature, that garden without aquiver, that house which was so calm, the hour,the moment, the silence, added some solemnand unspeakable quality to the venerable reposeof this man, and enveloped in a sort of sereneand majestic aureole that white hair, those closedeyes, that face in which all was hope and allwas confidence, that head of an old man, andthat slumber of an infant.There was something almost divine in this man,who was thus august, without being himselfaware of it.Jean Valjean was in the shadow, and stood mo-tionless, with his iron candlestick in his hand,frightened by this luminous old man. Never hadhe beheld anything like this. This confidenceterrified him. The moral world has no granderspectacle than this: a troubled and uneasy con-science, which has arrived on the brink of anevil action, contemplating the slumber of thejust.That slumber in that isolation, and with a neigh-bor like himself, had about it something sub-lime, of which he was vaguely but imperiouslyconscious.No one could have told what was passing withinhim, not even himself. In order to attempt toform an idea of it, it is necessary to think of themost violent of things in the presence of the mostgentle. Even on his visage it would have beenimpossible to distinguish anything with certainty.It was a sort of haggard astonishment. He gazedat it, and that was all. But what was his thought?It would have been impossible to divine it. Whatwas evident was, that he was touched and as-tounded. But what was the nature of this emo-tion?His eye never quitted the old man. The onlything which was clearly to be inferred from hisattitude and his physiognomy was a strange in-decision. One would have said that he was hesi-tating between the two abysses,— the one inwhich one loses one’s self and that in which onesaves one’s self. He seemed prepared to crushthat skull or to kiss that hand.At the expiration of a few minutes his left armrose slowly towards his brow, and he took offhis cap; then his arm fell back with the samedeliberation, and Jean Valjean fell to meditatingonce more, his cap in his left hand, his club inhis right hand, his hair bristling all over his sav-age head.The Bishop continued to sleep in profound peacebeneath that terrifying gaze.The gleam of the moon rendered confusedlyvisible the crucifix over the chimney-piece,which seemed to be extending its arms to bothof them, with a benediction for one and pardonfor the other.Suddenly Jean Valjean replaced his cap on hisbrow; then stepped rapidly past the bed, withoutglancing at the Bishop, straight to the cupboard,which he saw near the head; he raised his ironcandlestick as though to force the lock; the keywas there; he opened it; the first thing whichpresented itself to him was the basket of silver-ware; he seized it, traversed the chamber withlong strides, without taking any precautions andwithout troubling himself about the noise, gainedthe door, re-entered the oratory, opened the win-dow, seized his cudgel, bestrode the window-sill of the ground-floor, put the silver into hisknapsack, threw away the basket, crossed the

garden, leaped over the wall like a tiger, andfled.

the cure?”“Silence!” said the gendarme. “He isMonseigneur the Bishop.”In the meantime, Monseigneur Bienvenu hadadvanced as quickly as his great age permitted.“Ah! here you are!” he exclaimed, looking atJean Valjean. “I am glad to see you. Well, buthow is this? I gave you the candlesticks too,which are of silver like the rest, and for whichyou can certainly get two hundred francs. Whydid you not carry them away with your forks andspoons?”Jean Valjean opened his eyes wide, and staredat the venerable Bishop with an expressionwhich no human tongue can render any accountof.“Monseigneur,” said the brigadier of gen-darmes, “so what this man said is true, then?We came across him. He was walking like aman who is running away. We stopped him tolook into the matter. He had this silver —”“And he told you,” interposed the Bishop with asmile, “that it had been given to him by a kindold fellow of a priest with whom he had passedthe night? I see how the matter stands. And youhave brought him back here? It is a mistake.”“In that case,” replied the brigadier, “we can lethim go?”“Certainly,” replied the Bishop.The gendarmes released Jean Valjean, who re-coiled.“Is it true that I am to be released?” he said, inan almost inarticulate voice, and as though hewere talking in his sleep.“Yes, thou art released; dost thou not under-stand?” said one of the gendarmes.“My friend,” resumed the Bishop, “before yougo, here are your candlesticks. Take them.”He stepped to the chimney-piece, took the twosilver candlesticks, and brought them to JeanValjean. The two women looked on without ut-tering a word, without a gesture, without a lookwhich could disconcert the Bishop.Jean Valjean was trembling in every limb. Hetook the two candlesticks mechanically, and witha bewildered air.“Now,” said the Bishop, “go in peace. By theway, when you return, my friend, it is not neces-sary to pass through the garden. You can alwaysenter and depart through the street door. It isnever fastened with anything but a latch, eitherby day or by night.”Then, turning to the gendarmes:—“You may retire, gentlemen.”The gendarmes retired.Jean Valjean was like a man on the point offainting.The Bishop drew near to him, and said in a lowvoice:—“Do not forget, never forget, that you have prom-ised to use this money in becoming an honestman.”Jean Valjean, who had no recollection of everhaving promised anything, remained speechless.The Bishop had emphasized the words when heuttered them. He resumed with solemnity:—“Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer be-long to evil, but to good. It is your soul that I buyfrom you; I withdraw it from black thoughts andthe spirit of perdition, and I give it to God.”

them in his march recalled to him memories ofhis childhood. These memories were almostintolerable to him, it was so long since they hadrecurred to him.Unutterable thoughts assembled within him inthis manner all day long.As the sun declined to its setting, casting longshadows athwart the soil from every pebble,Jean Valjean sat down behind a bush upon alarge ruddy plain, which was absolutely deserted.There was nothing on the horizon except theAlps. Not even the spire of a distant village.Jean Valjean might have been three leagues dis-tant from D—— A path which intersected theplain passed a few paces from the bush.In the middle of this meditation, which wouldhave contributed not a little to render his ragsterrifying to any one who might have encoun-tered him, a joyous sound became audible.He turned his head and saw a little Savoyard,about ten years of age, coming up the path andsinging, his hurdy-gurdy on his hip, and his mar-mot-box on his back,One of those gay and gentle children, who gofrom land to land affording a view of their kneesthrough the holes in their trousers.Without stopping his song, the lad halted in hismarch from time to time, and played at knuckle-bones with some coins which he had in his hand— his whole fortune, probably.Among this money there was one forty-soupiece.The child halted beside the bush, without per-ceiving Jean Valjean, and tossed up his handfulof sous, which, up to that time, he had caughtwith a good deal of adroitness on the back of hishand.This time the forty-sou piece escaped him, andwent rolling towards the brushwood until itreached Jean Valjean.Jean Valjean set his foot upon it.In the meantime, the child had looked after hiscoin and had caught sight of him.He showed no astonishment, but walked straightup to the man.The spot was absolutely solitary. As far as theeye could see there was not a person on theplain or on the path. The only sound was thetiny, feeble cries of a flock of birds of passage,which was traversing the heavens at an immenseheight. The child was standing with his back tothe sun, which cast threads of gold in his hairand empurpled with its blood-red gleam the sav-age face of Jean Valjean.“Sir,” said the little Savoyard, with that childishconfidence which is composed of ignorance andinnocence, “my money.”“What is your name?” said Jean Valjean.“Little Gervais, sir.”“Go away,” said Jean Valjean.“Sir,” resumed the child, “give me back mymoney.”Jean Valjean dropped his head, and made noreply.The child began again, “My money, sir.”Jean Valjean’s eyes remained fixed on the earth.“My piece of money!” cried the child, “my whitepiece! my silver!”It seemed as though Jean Valjean did not hearhim. The child grasped him by the collar of hisblouse and shook him. At the same time he madean effort to displace the big iron-shod shoe whichrested on his treasure.“I want my piece of money! my piece of fortysous!”The child wept. Jean Valjean raised his head.He still remained seated. His eyes were troubled.He gazed at the child, in a sort of amazement,then he stretched out his hand towards his cud-gel and cried in a terrible voice, “Who’s there?”“I, sir,” replied the child. “Little Gervais! I! Giveme back my forty sous, if you please! Take yourfoot away, sir, if you please!”Then irritated, though he was so small, and be-coming almost menacing:—“Come now, will you take your foot away? Takeyour foot away, or we’ll see!”“Ah! It’s still you!” said Jean Valjean, and risingabruptly to his feet, his foot still resting on thesilver piece, he added:—“Will you take yourself off!”The frightened child looked at him, then beganto tremble from head to foot, and after a fewmoments of stupor he set out, running at the topof his speed, without daring to turn his neck or toutter a cry.Nevertheless, lack of breath forced him to haltafter a certain distance, and Jean Valjean heardhim sobbing, in the midst of his own revery.

- Continued on Page 39

Page 30 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, July 25, 2012 www.MelbourneObserver.com.au

CHAPTER XII

THE BISHOP WORKS

The next morning at sunrise MonseigneurBienvenu was strolling in his garden. MadameMagloire ran up to him in utter consternation.“Monseigneur, Monseigneur!” she exclaimed,“does your Grace know where the basket ofsilver is?”“Yes,” replied the Bishop.“Jesus the Lord be blessed!” she resumed; “Idid not know what had become of it.”The Bishop had just picked up the basket in aflower-bed. He presented it to Madame Magloire.“Here it is.”“Well!” said she. “Nothing in it! And the sil-ver?”“Ah,” returned the Bishop, “so it is the silverwhich troubles you? I don’t know where it is.”“Great, good God! It is stolen! That man whowas here last night has stolen it.”In a twinkling, with all the vivacity of an alertold woman, Madame Magloire had rushed tothe oratory, entered the alcove, and returned tothe Bishop. The Bishop had just bent down, andwas sighing as he examined a plant of cochleariades Guillons, which the basket had broken as itfell across the bed. He rose up at MadameMagloire’s cry.“Monseigneur, the man is gone! The silver hasbeen stolen!”As she uttered this exclamation, her eyes fellupon a corner of the garden, where traces of thewall having been scaled were visible. The cop-ing of the wall had been torn away.“Stay! yonder is the way he went. He jumpedover into Cochefilet Lane. Ah, the abomination!He has stolen our silver!”The Bishop remained silent for a moment; thenhe raised his grave eyes, and said gently toMadame Magloire:—“And, in the first place, was that silver ours?”Madame Magloire was speechless. Another si-lence ensued; then the Bishop went on:—“Madame Magloire, I have for a long time de-tained that silver wrongfully. It belonged to thepoor. Who was that man? A poor man, evi-dently.”“Alas! Jesus!” returned Madame Magloire. “Itis not for my sake, nor for Mademoiselle’s. Itmakes no difference to us. But it is for the sakeof Monseigneur. What is Monseigneur to eatwith now?”The Bishop gazed at her with an air of amaze-ment.“Ah, come! Are there no such things as pewterforks and spoons?”Madame Magloire shrugged her shoulders.“Pewter has an odor.”“Iron forks and spoons, then.”Madame Magloire made an expressive gri-mace.“Iron has a taste.”“Very well,” said the Bishop; “wooden onesthen.”A few moments later he was breakfasting at thevery table at which Jean Valjean had sat on theprevious evening. As he ate his breakfast,Monseigneur Welcome remarked gayly to hissister, who said nothing, and to MadameMagloire, who was grumbling under her breath,that one really does not need either fork or spoon,even of wood, in order to dip a bit of bread in acup of milk.“A pretty idea, truly,” said Madame Magloire toherself, as she went and came, “to take in aman like that! and to lodge him close to one’sself! And how fortunate that he did nothing butsteal! Ah, mon Dieu! it makes one shudder tothink of it!”As the brother and sister were about to rise fromthe table, there came a knock at the door.“Come in,” said the Bishop.The door opened. A singular and violent groupmade its appearance on the threshold. Threemen were holding a fourth man by the collar.The three men were gendarmes; the other wasJean Valjean.A brigadier of gendarmes, who seemed to be incommand of the group, was standing near thedoor. He entered and advanced to the Bishop,making a military salute.“Monseigneur —” said he.At this word, Jean Valjean, who was dejectedand seemed overwhelmed, raised his head withan air of stupefaction.“Monseigneur!” he murmured. “So he is not

CHAPTER XIII

LITTLE GERVAIS

Jean Valjean left the town as though he werefleeing from it. He set out at a very hasty pacethrough the fields, taking whatever roads andpaths presented themselves to him, without per-ceiving that he was incessantly retracing hissteps. He wandered thus the whole morning,without having eaten anything and without feel-ing hungry. He was the prey of a throng of novelsensations. He was conscious of a sort of rage;he did not know against whom it was directed.He could not have told whether he was touchedor humiliated. There came over him at momentsa strange emotion which he resisted and to whichhe opposed the hardness acquired during thelast twenty years of his life. This state of mindfatigued him. He perceived with dismay that thesort of frightful calm which the injustice of hismisfortune had conferred upon him was givingway within him. He asked himself what wouldreplace this. At times he would have actuallypreferred to be in prison with the gendarmes,and that things should not have happened in thisway; it would have agitated him less. Althoughthe season was tolerably far advanced, therewere still a few late flowers in the hedge-rowshere and there, whose odor as he passed through


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Healthy Living

Detox wise feetAdvice from ‘Wisdom For Living’

■ People who havebeen exposed tochemicals or taken alot odf drugs seemto benefit greatlyfrom using footpatches, accordingto Wisdom ForLiving directorBarbara Elkins.

Wise Feet® footpatches contain asynergistic mix ofChinese herbs andminerals and re-semble big tea bigs.

They are appliedto the feet at night,when the bodynaturally detoxesitself.

“Many people arefinding they candecrease or evenstop some of themedications they aretaking,” she said.

“These footpatches are evenbeing used bynaturopaths to helpchildren with autismand ADHD.

“Our world isnow full of chemi-cals that were notaround when wefirst evolved andthey are affectingour health.

“Typically, mycustomers ring up toask me about themand they just try onepair to start and afterusing them for onenight they are usu-ally on the phone toorder a box,” MissElkins said.

“Many people arefinding they candecrease or evenstop some of themedications they aretaking.”Visitwww,wisewellstrong.comor contact (02) 43346868

Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, July 25, 2012 ADVERTISING FEATURE

Healthy Living

■ If you weare dentures or if you areabout to lose most or all of your teethand you want to avoid wearing a plate,the latest dental implants may offer anattractive alternative.

Implant-supported replacement teethare permanent, better looking asnd un-like previous implant options, take onlya few days to complete.

Many people with dentures or dentalproblems avoid smiling, which causesthem to appear less social, and perhapsintroverted.

“Dental dysfunction can affect nu-trition and wel-being, as the types offood that can be consumed are often lim-ited,” says Dr Alex Fibishenkofor theCentre of Aesthetic and Impant Den-tistry (CAID), an Australian leader inadvanced oral rehabilitation with den-tal implants.

“It can also be an aesthetic problem,changing a person’s entire personality.

“Dentures may look OK but they canbe incredibly uncomfortable, making itdificult to eat, taste food, talk or feelconfident.

Before dental implants, there was nopermanent fixed solution available forpeople who lost all their teeth. Theyaccfepted dental dysfunction, caused bywearing dentures as a form of disabil-ity.

“A disability that today has an almostinstant cure,” says Holly, senior surgi-cal assistant to Dr Fibishenko.

Unlike older implant methods involv-ing protracted treatment, cutting edgetechniques implemented at CAID since2005 after the ability to fit permanentreplacement teeth supported by onlyfour implants ... in as little as two days./

The method is known as All On 4Plus.

That is ALL teeth ON FOUR im-plants, and the important PLUS factorthat makes it more suitable for an age-ing population.

In a country where the average lifeexpectancy for healthy people is in the80s, the question for an increasinglylarge number of patients is “Am I Tooold?”

The paradox is that that the older you

get, the more likely you are to lose teeth,but at the same time adjusting to a newdenture becomes increasingly moredificult, and going through protractedtreatment can also become an issue withage.

For those who have already lostteeth, the other problem is the gradualathrophy of bone that occurs over timethat may limit their options with tradi-tional implant methods.

In many cases bone atrophy follow-ing loss of teeth not only leads to an agedlook, but also makes dentures increas-ingly loose and uncomfortable. This maylead to por func tion, digestive issues,as well as a loss of condifence.

It is a vicious cycle that, for some,accelerates the notion of ‘ageing’ asthey come to accept this as being nor-mal.

But loss of oral function and deterio-rated smile aesthetics are among thosethings in ageing that could potentiallybe reversed with the All On 4 treatment.

Dr Fibishenko has been performingdental implants since 1996, and for quite

some time now has worked exclusivelyin this field.

He founded the Centre for Aestheticand Implant Dentistry in 2002. It is amodern purpose-built facility, but whatmakes it special is its emphasis not onlyon results but also on ensuring the moststreamlined and uncomplicated treat-ment process for the patient.

This would appear attractive foryoung patients with busy schedules, butalso for those who are much older andwould not otherwise be able to tolerateprotracted treatments.

Older and mature patients often re-quire special care and attention but havea lot to gain from avoiding dentures withdental implants. For many it is a ques-tion of Quality of Life.

The clinic’s latest and popular publi-cation entitled The Permanent Alterna-tive To Dentures Ed. 3 is available fromCAID on request and may help individu-als further understand the fixzed alter-native to dentures.

Phone: 1-300 255 665www.allon4.com.au

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From Page 30

At the end of a few moments the child had dis-appeared.The sun had set.The shadows were descending around JeanValjean. He had eaten nothing all day; it is prob-able that he was feverish.He had remained standing and had not changedhis attitude after the child’s flight. The breathheaved his chest at long and irregular intervals.His gaze, fixed ten or twelve paces in front ofhim, seemed to be scrutinizing with profoundattention the shape of an ancient fragment ofblue earthenware which had fallen in the grass.All at once he shivered; he had just begun tofeel the chill of evening.He settled his cap more firmly on his brow, soughtmechanically to cross and button his blouse,advanced a step and stopped to pick up his cud-gel.At that moment he caught sight of the forty-soupiece, which his foot had half ground into theearth, and which was shining among the pebbles.It was as though he had received a galvanicshock. “What is this?” he muttered between histeeth. He recoiled three paces, then halted, with-out being able to detach his gaze from the spotwhich his foot had trodden but an instant before,as though the thing which lay glittering there inthe gloom had been an open eye riveted uponhim.At the expiration of a few moments he dartedconvulsively towards the silver coin, seized it,and straightened himself up again and began togaze afar off over the plain, at the same timecasting his eyes towards all points of the hori-zon, as he stood there erect and shivering, like aterrified wild animal which is seeking refuge.He saw nothing. Night was falling, the plain wascold and vague, great banks of violet haze wererising in the gleam of the twilight.He said, “Ah!” and set out rapidly in the direc-tion in which the child had disappeared. Afterabout thirty paces he paused, looked about himand saw nothing.Then he shouted with all his might:—“Little Gervais! Little Gervais!”He paused and waited.There was no reply.The landscape was gloomy and deserted. Hewas encompassed by space. There was nothing

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Observer Crossword Solution No 37

remained a middle course for him; that if hewere not henceforth the best of men, he wouldbe the worst; that it behooved him now, so tospeak, to mount higher than the Bishop, or falllower than the convict; that if he wished to be-come good be must become an angel; that if hewished to remain evil, he must become a mon-ster?Here, again, some questions must be put, whichwe have already put to ourselves elsewhere: didhe catch some shadow of all this in his thought,in a confused way? Misfortune certainly, as wehave said, does form the education of the intel-ligence; nevertheless, it is doubtful whether JeanValjean was in a condition to disentangle all thatwe have here indicated. If these ideas occurredto him, he but caught glimpses of, rather thansaw them, and they only succeeded in throwinghim into an unutterable and almost painful stateof emotion. On emerging from that black anddeformed thing which is called the galleys, theBishop had hurt his soul, as too vivid a light wouldhave hurt his eyes on emerging from the dark.The future life, the possible life which offereditself to him henceforth, all pure and radiant,filled him with tremors and anxiety. He no longerknew where he really was. Like an owl, whoshould suddenly see the sun rise, the convicthad been dazzled and blinded, as it were, byvirtue.That which was certain, that which he did notdoubt, was that he was no longer the same man,that everything about him was changed, that itwas no longer in his power to make it as thoughthe Bishop had not spoken to him and had nottouched him.In this state of mind he had encountered littleGervais, and had robbed him of his forty sous.Why? He certainly could not have explained it;was this the last effect and the supreme effort,as it were, of the evil thoughts which he hadbrought away from the galleys,— a remnant ofimpulse, a result of what is called in statics, ac-quired force? It was that, and it was also, per-haps, even less than that. Let us say it simply, itwas not he who stole; it was not the man; it wasthe beast, who, by habit and instinct, had simplyplaced his foot upon that money, while the intel-ligence was struggling amid so many novel andhitherto unheard-of thoughts besetting it.

To Be Continued Next Issue

around him but an obscurity in which his gazewas lost, and a silence which engulfed his voice.An icy north wind was blowing, and imparted tothings around him a sort of lugubrious life. Thebushes shook their thin little arms with incred-ible fury. One would have said that they werethreatening and pursuing some one.He set out on his march again, then he began torun; and from time to time he halted and shoutedinto that solitude, with a voice which was themost formidable and the most disconsolate thatit was possible to hear, “Little Gervais! LittleGervais!”Assuredly, if the child had heard him, he wouldhave been alarmed and would have taken goodcare not to show himself. But the child was nodoubt already far away.He encountered a priest on horseback. Hestepped up to him and said:—“Monsieur le Cure, have you seen a child pass?”“No,” said the priest.“One named Little Gervais?”“I have seen no one.”He drew two five-franc pieces from his money-bag and handed them to the priest.“Monsieur le Cure, this is for your poor people.Monsieur le Cure, he was a little lad, about tenyears old, with a marmot, I think, and a hurdy-gurdy. One of those Savoyards, you know?”“I have not seen him.”“Little Gervais? There are no villages here?Can you tell me?”“If he is like what you say, my friend, he is alittle stranger. Such persons pass through theseparts. We know nothing of them.”Jean Valjean seized two more coins of fivefrancs each with violence, and gave them to thepriest.“For your poor,” he said.Then he added, wildly:—“Monsieur l’Abbe, have me arrested. I am athief.”The priest put spurs to his horse and fled in haste,much alarmed.Jean Valjean set out on a run, in the directionwhich he had first taken.In this way he traversed a tolerably long dis-tance, gazing, calling, shouting, but he met noone. Two or three times he ran across the plaintowards something which conveyed to him theeffect of a human being reclining or crouching

down; it turned out to be nothing but brushwoodor rocks nearly on a level with the earth. Atlength, at a spot where three paths intersectedeach other, he stopped. The moon had risen. Hesent his gaze into the distance and shouted forthe last time, “Little Gervais! Little Gervais!Little Gervais!” His shout died away in the mist,without even awakening an echo. He murmuredyet once more, “Little Gervais!” but in a feebleand almost inarticulate voice. It was his last ef-fort; his legs gave way abruptly under him, asthough an invisible power had suddenly over-whelmed him with the weight of his evil con-science; he fell exhausted, on a large stone, hisfists clenched in his hair and his face on hisknees, and he cried, “I am a wretch!”Then his heart burst, and he began to cry. It wasthe first time that he had wept in nineteen years.When Jean Valjean left the Bishop’s house, hewas, as we have seen, quite thrown out of ev-erything that had been his thought hitherto. Hecould not yield to the evidence of what was go-ing on within him. He hardened himself againstthe angelic action and the gentle words of theold man. “You have promised me to become anhonest man. I buy your soul. I take it away fromthe spirit of perversity; I give it to the good God.”This recurred to his mind unceasingly. To thiscelestial kindness he opposed pride, which isthe fortress of evil within us. He was indistinctlyconscious that the pardon of this priest was thegreatest assault and the most formidable attackwhich had moved him yet; that his obduracywas finally settled if he resisted this clemency;that if he yielded, he should be obliged to re-nounce that hatred with which the actions ofother men had filled his soul through so manyyears, and which pleased him; that this time itwas necessary to conquer or to be conquered;and that a struggle, a colossal and final struggle,had been begun between his viciousness andthe goodness of that man.In the presence of these lights, he proceededlike a man who is intoxicated. As he walkedthus with haggard eyes, did he have a distinctperception of what might result to him from hisadventure at D——? Did he understand all thosemysterious murmurs which warn or importunethe spirit at certain moments of life? Did a voicewhisper in his ear that he had just passed thesolemn hour of his destiny; that there no longer

Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, July 25, 2012 - Page 39

I N N E R M O S T R E T I N A A L I L I E S R E C R E A T E D

V A I G W H A M G M C C O Y U M A U I A A E E

A Z P O L I O F I A N C E T N I C K E L N O D E S E E

N A I V E T E S O F T I N U X I R O O K G L E A M E D

R I R I S H V I S I T D R A K E L A Y O N M E A L S R

M A D E S I D E A C E A S E L E S S L Y N A S A N P A I L

A B A S E T R C O D E A T M E E T P R R S P C A

E T B E D S I D E N R O S E T T E R M A C A B R E P W

S C A B B Y B O D E S S A O L L E S S E R T O A K L E Y

T E T E X A N G T A N G E N T S A H E A D I E

R A N C I D C G Y R A T E R E A R T H Y O M I D A I R

O T D O K A Y E O D O M E T E R S A E O N S L N S

F R I E D S M O G N W A W C M A N X L Y N C H

Y E W E S N A M E N O T R E O N E S Y O G I E

A M O N A O U T L A S T S E R E T I R I N G I C E D S

A S I A T I E R H T W P R O N N N E L L E O A K S

T L F T H E R E F O R E R E T E N T I O N L N I

T I D I N G S I G R T N E E R Y N A S A G G I N G

I E R E N D O W P I N A G O A T P E S T O M N E

G U L F A P G A A D A M L E A N O U S P E P B W A L L

H T R E N C H L R N E S T N O T A E O P E A H E N D

T H A I D E M E D I A P Y L O N D R U N K R S M E N S

U T M A M B A R T I A I F S D E V E N S B E

M E L T O E T B O N E R H I N O T R O T S S A L A D S

O L E T T E R I B L O S E O N T O N M S U D D E N T

P O O R H A L A E L L A M O B H O L Y E G O O Y O R E

U Y E L A N E S A R U M B A I L M I N E R R D W

P E D L A R S B X P S I L L S P N N U S U R E R S

M Y C R E P A I R M A N E N T R A N C E D R A A

O M A N M A M A I S E G A S L U E A R A N M U C H

Y N E A R D R A F T I N G L R E C L I N E R L E A P Y

E N E R O T E E N N O B L E H A M S M A S S O

S M O K Y R E E L T A I A A R E N E S A M B A

E B E E L S E L E N T A N G L E S A U S S R B E B

M O A N E D E L U S T R E O L E N N O N C M A D D E R

B R N U T T Y S P A R S L E Y P S H O O T I O

R O G U E S S P E L L E T U I S C A L E D O P I G E O N

Y O S K I D D E D A U P S T A G E C C O L L E E N N C

O V E R T O B S P U N S B E P I C M A G E C K O

S O S O Y W E B S S P E C I A L I S E D P I E R G T E E S

T M O U R N L A B E L H A R E M A S P E N S A L V O Y

R E S P I R E H E N S I A C A L H E I R M E A N E S T

A A N I P P Y D I F F E R A G U I T A R U N P E G C A

S R K A D E A D T M I D G E N S E R B L U H P

H A I R S T Y L E L E N S E S E S I G H E D S K E L E T O N S

MELBOURNE OBSERVERMEGA 037 - (X grid)MEGA.eps.© Lovatts Crosswords 11/1/07 - Artist - JT


Movies, DVDs

Reviews by Aaron Rourke ObserverMelbourne

Top 10 Lists

THE AUSTRALIAN BOX OFFICE

TOP TEN:

1. TED.

2. ICE AGE 4: CONTINENTAL

DRIFT.

3. THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN.

4. BRAVE.

5. SNOW WHITE AND THE

HUNTSMAN.

6. KATY PERRY: PART OF ME.

7. THE THREE STOOGES.

8. HYSTERIA.

9. COCKTAIL.

10. PROMETHEUS.

NEW RELEASES AND COMING

SOON TO CINEMAS AROUND AUS-

TRALIA:

JULY 19: THE DARK KNIGHT

RISES, THE DOOR.

JULY 26: IN DARKNESS, LOL,

MAGIC MIKE, STARRY STARRY

NIGHT.

THE DVD TOP SELLERS:

1. ANY QUESTIONS FOR BEN?

[Comedy/Christian Clark, Rachael

Taylor].

2. KILLER ELITE [Action/Robert De

Niro, Clive Owen, Jason

Statham].

3. 21 JUMP STREET [Comedy/

Jonah Hill, Channing Tatum, Ice

Cube].

4. THIS MEANS WAR [Comedy/

Tom Hardy, Reese Witherspoon,

Chris Pine].

5. CONTRABAND [Action/Drama/

Mark Wahlberg, Kate Beckinsale,

Ben Foster].

6. LONDON BOULEVARD [Crime/

Thri l ler/Colin Farrel l, Keira

Knightley, Ray Winstone].

7. PROJECT X [Comedy/Jonathan

Daniel Brown, Oliver Cooper, Tho-

mas Mann].

8. EXTREMELY LOUD AND IN-

CREDIBLY CLOSE [Drama/Tom

Hanks, Sandra Bullock].

9. MY WEEK WITH MARILYN

[Drama/True Story/Michelle Will-

iams, Kenneth Branagh].

10. JOHN CARTER [Action/Taylor

Kitsch, Mark Strong, Bryan

Cranston].

Also: MAN ON A LEDGE, THE

ARTIST, CORIOLANUS, HEAD-

HUNTERS, WANDERLUST, CAR-

NAGE, THE GREY, J.EDGAR, UN-

DERWORLD-AWAKENING, SAFE

HOUSE.

NEW RELEASE HIGHLIGHTS ON DVD

THIS WEEK:

HAYWIRE [Action/Michael

Fassbender, Ewan McGregor].

THE BIG YEAR [Comedy/Jack

Black, Steve Martin, Owen Wil-

son].

A LITTLE BIT OF HEAVEN [Ro-

mance/Comedy/Kate Hudson,

Treat Williams, Kathy Bates].

MEETING EVIL [Thriller/Samuel L.

Jackson, Luke Wilson].

THE SITTER [Comedy/Jonah Hill,

Sam Rockwell].

NEW & RE-RELEASE CLASSICS ON

DVD HIGHLIGHTS:

THE WOODY ALLEN COLLECTION

- Volume One:

Bananas, Everything You Always

Wanted to Know About Sex But

Were Afraid to Ask, Sleeper.

THE WOODY ALLEN COLLECTION

- Volume Two:

Annie Hall, Interiors, Love and

Death.

What’s Hot and What’s Not

on DVD and Blu-Ray

Observer

Showbiz

Observer

Showbiz

With

James

Sherlock

■ It was pretty much the end of anera when long-time Hollywood pro-ducer Richard D Zanuck died of aheart attack on July 13, aged 77.

Part of the old-school style of pro-ducing, where a word or a handshakewas enough to get a film made,Zanuck (son of Hollywood heavy-weight Darryl F Zanuck) helped bringto the screen some of the biggest hitsof all-time.

Unlike the committee-room men-tality that plagues Hollywood now,where business people who know noth-ing about movies decide on what getsmade (which has brought us into theabhorrent Michael Bay era of assem-bly line product rather than actualfilms), Mr Zanuck went on gut in-stinct, greenlighting such classicblockbusters as The Sound Of Music(1965), The Planet Of The Apes(1968), Tora, Tora, Tora (1970), andThe Sting (1973).

He also gave the big-screen startto a young director called StevenSpielberg (Sugarland Express in1974, then Jaws in 1975).

Over the years Mr Zanuck pro-duced the films of such high profilepeople such as Michael Caine (TheIsland - 1980), Paul Newman and di-rector Sidney Lumet (The Verdict -1982), director Ron Howard (Cocoon- 1985), Morgan Freeman and Aussiedirector Bruce Beresford (DrivingMiss Daisy - 1989), Jeff Bridges anddirector Walter Hill (Wild Bill - 1995),Nick Nolte (Mulholland Falls - 1996),Robert Duvall (Deep Impact - 1998),Clint Eastwood (True Crime - 1999),director William Friedkin (Rules OfEngagement - 2000), Christian Bale(Reign Of Fire - 2002), Tom Hanksand director Sam Mendes (Road ToPerdition - 2002), and a decade-longworking relationship with director TimBurton (Planet Of The Apes - 2001,Big Fish - 2003, Charlie And TheChocolate Factory - 2005, SweeneyTodd - 2007, and Alice In Wonder-land - 2010).

Mr Zanuck's final film as producerwas Tim Burton's remake of the cultTV series Dark Shadows (2012), star-ring Johnny Depp and MichellePfeiffer.

Of the many films Mr Zanuck ei-ther greenlit or produced, the follow-ing movies are ones I enjoyed and canthoroughly recommend.

Compulsion (M) (1959). 99 min-utes. ****.

Zanuck's first solo effort as pro-ducer is compelling drama based onthe famous Leopold-Loeb murdercase. Stars Orson Welles.

The Planet Of The Apes (PG)(1968). 112 minutes. ****½

One of the most influential films

ever made, this sci-fi classic whereapes are the superior species contin-ues to enthrall and excite.

Sugarland Express (M) (1974).109 minutes. ****½.

Steven Spielberg's big-screen de-but is one of his best, about a youngcouple on the run from police whiletrying to take back their young son.Stars Goldie Hawn.

Jaws (M) (1975). 124 minutes.*****

The story about a killer shark terri-fied millions, and became one of thebiggest hits of all-time.

Jaws 2 (M) (1978). 117 minutes.***½.

While not as good as the original,this entertaining sequel still deliversthe goods.

The Verdict (M) (1982). 129 min-utes. *****.

This courtroom drama rises aboveits familiar elements to become ab-sorbing, outstanding entertainment.Paul Newman should have won hisOscar for this.

Cocoon (PG) (1985). 117 minutes.****½.

Gentle, warm-hearted blend ofcomedy, drama, and sci-fi, featuringa top-notch veteran cast (includingOscar winner Don Ameche).

Driving Miss Daisy (G) (1989). 99minutes. ****.

Oscar-winner for Best Film, thislovely comedy/drama features twogreat performances from JessicaTandy (who won for Best Actress) andMorgan Freeman.

Rush (R) (1991). 120 minutes.***½.

Effectively low-key, 1970s-styledrama about a young undercover copwho gets in over her head. Stars Ja-son Patric and Jennifer Jason Leigh.

Wild Bill (M) (1995). 97 minutes.***½.

The original Deadwood. DirectorWalter Hill's tough look at the lastdays of the famous gunslinger, well-played by Jeff Bridges. Hill wouldlater help create the popular TV se-ries.

True Crime (M) (1999). 127 min-utes. ***½.

Star/director Clint Eastwood'svery entertaining race-against-the-clock thriller also has a surprisinglyknowing sense of humour. Co-starsJames Woods and Denis Leary.

Sweeney Todd (MA) (2007). 117minutes. ***.

The most fun of director TimBurton's generally disappointing re-cent efforts, with great productiondesign and a dark sense of humour.

Plus it's hard not to hate a filmwhere the always obnoxious SachaBaron Cohen is slashed to pieces.

FILM: KILLER ELITE:

Cast: Robert De Niro, Jason Statham, Clive Owen.

Genre: Action/Thriller.

Year: 2011.

Rating: MA15+.

Running Time: 116 Minutes.

Format: DVD and BLU-RAY.

Stars: ***

Verdict: When his mentor is taken captive, a retired member of Britain's

Elite Special Air Service is forced into action. A fast paced rapid fire

action thriller with car chases, pyrotechnics and gunplay all showcasing

three of Hollywood's top tough guys flexing their muscles with mayhem

at nearly every turn, filmed in Melbourne, this is new addition to the

staple diet of action films, only some are better than others, and this is

a solid and entertaining example.

FILM: LONDON BOULEVARD:

Cast: Colin Farrell, Keira Knightley, Ray Winstone.

Genre: Crime/Thriller.

Year: 2011.

Rating: MA15+.


Format: DVD & BLU-RAY.

Stars: ***

Verdict: An above average British gangster yarn of an ex-con hired to

look after a reclusive young actress and finds himself falling in love with

her, which puts him in direct confrontation with one of London's most

vicious gangsters. Well paced and good performances make it a nice

addition to other British gangster films such as Sexy Beast, the 2010

version of Brighton Rock and 44 Inch Chest, but far from the calibre of

the British classics The Long Good Friday and Get Carter.

FILM: THE LIST OF ADRIAN MESSENGER:

Cast: George C. Scott, Kirk Douglas, Tony Curtis, Burt

Lancaster, Robert Mitchum,

Frank Sinatra, John Huston.

Genre: Crime/Mystery.

Year: 1963.

Rating: PG.


Format: DVD.

Stars: ****

Verdict: Delightfully beguiling and highly entertaining mystery "Who-

Done-It?" of a friend who is asked to check into a list of names that

subsequently shows that most have died in mysterious circumstances,

so it's a race to find the remaining survivors. An additional mystery-

gimmick that makes it even more fun is that most of the great cast

involved are all heavily disguised and you have to guess who they are,

which is all revealed at the end, but the story itself stands well enough

on its own. Evenly off centre and nicely atmospheric throughout, this is

a one-of-a-kind gem brought together by a sharply intelligent and darkly

comic script, indelible performances and direction by the legendary John

Huston. Great fun!

FILM: PROPHETS OF SCIENCE FICTION:

Cast: Each Episode Introduced by Ridley Scott.

Genre: Documentary/TV Series.

Year: 2011.

Rating: PG.


Format: DVD and BLU-RAY.

Stars: ***1/2

Verdict: A fascinating and insightful documentary series that explores

the science-fiction imaginings of the writers of the past that are now

becoming the science realities of our day. This superb series covers such

legendary names in science fiction as Philip K. Dick, Jules Verne, Isaac

Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, H.G. Wells, Mary Shelley, George Lucas and

Robert Heinlein, covering such subjects as Blade Runner, 2001: A Space

Odyssey, The Time Machine, Frankenstein, and many more. Highly rec-

ommended! ●●●●● Turn To Page 63

●●●●● Hollywood heavyweights Jason Statham, Robert De Niro and

Clive Owen in the action filled Killer Elite, filmed right here in

Melbourne. ●●●●● Richard D Zanuck : December 13, 1934 - July 13, 2012

RICHARD D ZANUCKRICHARD D ZANUCK


Victoria Pictorial Historic Photo Collection

●●●●● View from The Triange, Yea. 1909 ●●●●● Town Hall, Ararat. 1980

●●●●● Town Hall Gartdens. Beechworth. 1908 ●●●●● In The Grove, Yarrawonga. 1907.

●●●●● Bishopscourt, Wangaratta. Circa 1910 ●●●●● Hauling fish, Mornington. 1913.

●●●●● Entrance to Botanical Gardens, Maryborough. 1907. ●●●●● Myrtleford, looking towards Buffalo. 1940s


Korea turns tap opn watery innovations

McGuigan celebrates 20 years

ObserverMelbourne

Travellers’ Good Buys

ObserverMelbourne Wines & Liqueurs

withDavidEllis

withDavidEllis

■ Hands up if you've heard of Yeosu.And hands up again if you knowwhere it is, with top marks if you cansay why it’s currently revelling in thelimelight.

The answer to the latter is thatYeosu, a small port city at the lowertip of South Korea, is the site for thisyear's World Expo, an event expectedto attract 8-million visitors during itsthree months run to August 12.

It’s a nice boost for a city that’s notreally on the way to anywhere, butwhose cool summers, mild wintersand lengthy spring and autumn en-courage plenty of tourists to Korea tomake the three hour trip there by fasttrain from Seoul, or around the sametime by bus from Busan.

Not a trade fair, Yeosu’s WorldExpo is an international event alongthe lines of what the inaugural GreatExhibition in London’s Crystal Pal-ace first paraded in 1851, and whatBrisbane hosted in 1988.

And with this year’s theme of Liv-ing Ocean and Coast Expo, the 103participating nations are highlightingjust how precious is water tomankind's, and indeed the earth's, sur-vival.

Denmark notes that global wateruse increases at more than twice therate of population, while the Swiss pa-vilion headlines "Water is Nature'sBloodstream," and has a presentationof drops of water in an obscure tunnelthat ends with a taste of fresh alpine

■ When you’ve a label that’s been astand-out success for 20 years, youcould be excused for sitting back andresting on your winemaking laurels.

Not so with Neil McGuigan, thedynamic and irrepressible ChiefWinemaker at the Hunter Valley’sMcGuigan Wines. Instead he’s cre-ated a very special 20th AnniversaryBlack Label Reserve Shiraz CabernetSauvignon to celebrate the seconddecade of the company’s Black La-bel range – and is already ponderinghow he’ll celebrate the label in an-other 20 years.

”We see ourselves not just as mak-ers, but as guardians of the brand,charged with an obligation to respectour history and our heritage, and tocontinue Black Label’s world-widesuccess,” Neil says, and noting thatonly 7500 cases were made of the 20thAnniversary drop, although 150,000cases of the McGuigan Black Labelrange are sold in Australia every year,making it our currently #1- selling redwine by volume.

The 20th Anniversary Black La-bel Reserve Shiraz CabernetSauvignon was made from fruitsourced from South Australia’sBarossa Valley and Limestone Coastand bursts with sweet berry fruit andsupple tannins. Pay $19.99 and get thefamily around to share over a Sundayroast turkey dinner.

●●●●● Unusual moving digital ceiling at this year’s Yeosu World Expo

water for visitors to savour. Someworld expos are precursors of whatbecome everyday innovations.

Our co-writer this week, HilaryRoots remembers the Italian pavilionat Brisbane in '88 presenting the ex-traordinary concept of a telephonewith pictures – something pretty ba-nal now.

And she recalls being impressedat Japan’s Tskuba Expo in 1985 withhydroponically growing tomatoes –and a robotic man walking down stairswith awkward difficulty.

So what of this year at Yeosu? Hi-lary says there are some electronicachievements that are remarkable,including from when visitors arriveinto a passageway with a gigantic digi-tal ceiling, 218 metres long, featuringa dreaming whale and other displays.

No need to queue here, simply liftyour eyes and watch the colourfulswim-past of thousands of digitally-created images.

Some countries at Yeosu vaunttheir careful use of water. Others reston their laurels, while some encour-age visitors to stop and think, pointingout that commonsense and sharingknowledge can contribute to more eq-uitable water usage throughout theworld.

The Dutch, for example, remindthe world that climate change can becoped with – and point out that they'vebeen doing just that for hundreds ofyears, given that much of their coun-try is below sea-level.

They built dykes and canals andset an example in a world that can besomewhat hysteric over what to doshould the sea level rise – maybe, asHilary says, we should be thinking theold Boy Scout motto...

Again the Dutch, ever so practi-cal, present visitors with a flat waterbottle at Yeosu - it deflates as onedrinks from it, folds away to next tonothing, and is refillable.

Korea itself, the US and Russiahave impressive displays, andorganisers have put together a well-patronised aquarium featuring rarecreatures such as the small, whiteBeluga whale, and highlighting ma-rine ranching or farming done inYeosu itself.

Small countries are also present.Monaco one of them, and Pacific is-land states from Papua New Guineaeastwards through the Solomon Is-lands to Vanuatu, Nauru, Fiji, Tuvalu,Tonga, Samoa and Kiribati.

And yes Australia is there with two-fold purpose: firstly to build on tradeand investment relationships with theRepublic of Korea with whom TradeMinister, Craig Emerson says we’vea long history of friendship, businessties and diplomatic links.

And secondly with the theme “InHarmony with the Ocean” highlight-ing our credentials with high environ-mental, scientific and technical ca-pabilities in marine conservation, anda commitment to sustainable devel-opment of our vast natural assets –our pavilion’s already been visited byover a million expo-goers includingDenmark’s (our) Princess Mary. So ifyou happen to be in or around Koreabefore August 12, join those at Yeosulooking to a better world through sen-sible use of water and the oceans.

The new Yeosu Hotel, two min-utes from the gates, is a good place tostart.

One For Lunch■ With nearly 40 vintages behindhim in the Clare Valley, Tim Adamsreckons only a handful of thesewere as good as the 2012, onewhose yields were slightly down onnormal but whose resultant fruitshowed marvellous flavour inten-sity.

And Tim’s particularly proud ofhis 2012 Tim Adams Pinot Gristhat’s full of pear and peachflavours with a touch of sweetness. And although officially a whitewine, it’s got a slightly rosé hue fromthe variety’s natural skin pigmen-tation; at $22 you won’t beat it withChicken Tikka Masala or Thai FishCakes.

Pictured

■ Join the 20 years celebrationswith this and a Sunday roast turkeydinner.

■ Marvellous with Chicken TikkaMasala or Thai Fish Cakes.


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Victorian Rural News

melbourne observer. 120725b. july 25, 2012. part b. pages pages 17-22, 29-40, 47-52

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