We're just under an hour from Hobart, which doesn't sound very far, but at night it's a drive fraught with bad roads, bad drivers and potentially bad road kill. And while yes, Hobart does pack a vibrant artistic punch for what really is a very small city, it's still a big effort for us to organize to see anything in town. It requires either an overnight stay or a sober late night drive home, a Nonna sleep over to watch the children, well, it's all a bit of a palaver really.
So excitement was high on Monday night when we bundled up the smalls, grabbed a rug and a thermos of hot chocolate and headed down to the nearby river bank, just ten minutes before kick off. A five minute drive, we parked right alongside the designated "best vantage point" signage. The river was still and smooth with the quiet town lights reflected in the water, while the night air was unseasonably warm, with nary a breath of wind. We sat and waited with great anticipation. Slowly but surely, a glowing 1959 Chinese Junk, named Suzy Wong, drifted by with set-sails filled with moving images of film, maps, portraits and text woven together by a hauntingly beautiful soundtrack. It was so enchanting to watch. The children were totally mesmerized. As was I. I wish Suzy Wong was floating on the Huon River all the time. It was spellbinding. We watched for about an hour before the yawns and eye rubbing of the smalls were our cues to get home pronto. Which we did. Within minutes. I guess when a contemporary performance does make a rare appearance in a small rural town, it has its advantages over the big city shows. It was pretty cool to see such an outstanding spectacle without a long drive home.
Thanks to Pip for her weekly assignment of words and pictures.