A day of two halves. Adelaide’s galleries followed by bike reassemble.
Adelaide’s old arcades are a joy. Opening 1885 and built in 5 months by 200 workers, it does make you reflect why things take so long these days to complete. With adaptions to changing fortunes (and a fire) 1930s art noveau dominates. They do what good arcades do: shelter small independent shops and niche products.
Looking up in cities shows the changes. Old facades harbour skyscrapers; old names tell of previous use. They seem to have done a good job here at juggling preservation, conservation and modernisation.
The South Australia Art gallery makes an impression. Its cake of the week is a recipe to return to. The Adelaide Museum’s Aboriginal wing illustrates quietly yet powerfully the richness of cultures trampled over.
Then to bike reassemble. Including the scissors making a clean cut of a finger, now neatly bandaged. Other emergency repairs will be made on Barbara’s handlebag holder. Clean machines now await posteriors.
First rain to remind us of home: so far we’re the only bikes sporting mudguards as a permanent touring feature.
Thought of the day from Aristotle in the art gallery: engage on 3 levels to communicate. Pathos (emotion); logos (logic); ethos (ethics). I’ve already engaged pathos in replying to a “are you from England?” question from a fellow cyclist. Logos and ethics held in reserve, though as he comes from Wessex the latter might not work.
Travelling reflections 