For 11 months of the year Adelaide is a relatively quiet town, where nothing much happens, but come March the town explodes into a hyperactive teenager with ADHD. They cram everything into the month – Clipsal 500, which is apparently some Supercar motor racing; the Adelaide Festival; the Adelaide Fringe Festival; WOMAD, and Adelaide Writers Week. Throw in an Ed Sheehan concert, and you have all tastes covered! Mad indeed.
We are here for 4 days to enjoy 3 of those events – the Festival, the Fringe Festival and Writers Week. That is more than enough to keep us busy.
We are off the plane and straight to the hire car desk on Wednesday morning as we have a 1pm play to get to, and of course we must have lunch beforehand. Luckily for us, the play is at Her Majesty’s theatre, just over the road from the Adelaide Central Market. Park the car and high tail it into the Market, where we perch on a stool at the famous Lucia’s and partake of one of their very tasty made to order rolls; washed down with a piccolo of prosecco. An excellent start to our Mad March adventure.
Cross the road to join the crowds surging into Robert Lepage’s show The Far Side of the Moon. The program touts this as “the greatest and most acclaimed work by iconic Canadian auteur, Robert Lepage”. I beg to differ. Having seen The Blue Dragon and 887 at different Melbourne Festivals – and been entranced by both the creative use of multimedia and technology in telling the stories, and the stories themselves – I found The Far Side of the Moon to be, well, to be honest …. slightly boring. Whilst the cleverness of the staging was not in doubt, the story itself was boring, and I failed to grasp the parallels between the space exploration clips and references, and the story of the two brothers. It was also a little bit hard to hear from the back row.
Down to the other side of town and a quick pop in to see what is happening at Writers’ Week. Nothing much engages us but we do spend a very happy half hour browsing the veritable treasure trove that is the Book Tent and fighting the impulse to load ourselves up with purchases.
Then across the road to the Space Theatre at the Adelaide Festival Centre to see Simon Stone’s Thyestes. What can I say but WOW, WOW, WOW. One hour and 30 minutes of in-your-face, thrilling, funny, horrifying, mesmerising theatre performed by 3 fearless young men. The audience was left gasping at the end. I really need to see it again, now that I understand the play’s structure, to make sense of what unfolded before my eyes. Apparently the play was originally commissioned and produced by the Malthouse Theatre in Melbourne – please bring it back Malthouse.
Breathless and exhilarated we made our way to Osteria Oggi to recover through great food and wine. The place is buzzing so we fit right in. We have grown to 5, so opt to get a variety of dishes and share them. Everything tastes terrific, and we leave for our beds exhausted but very happy with Day 1 of our cultural odyssey.
We have devoted today to the Writers’ Festival but start with a coffee at the charming Lounders Boatshed Cafe by the River Torrens.
Then it is on to the Pioneer Women’s Memorial Garden, where two stages are set up for the week of the Writers’ Festival. Grab a chair and try and find a piece of shade that will remain in shade for the duration of each talk. This proves be a challenge beyond us. Firstly, we have no idea which is the East Stage and which is the West. A quick query at the very friendly information desk sorts that one out. But then we have the problem of working out where the sun will go and how that will impact on the shade we are clinging to. I can attest to the fact we got it wrong every single time, so ended up sweating in the glare of the very hot Adelaide sun by the end of each session.
We start with Sarah Krasnostein and her interesting discussion about writing the Trauma Cleaner, which we have both read. Next up is Kate Cole-Adams talking about her book Anaesthesia, a tome that Heather has bought to take home to her anaesthetist husband.
Wilting in the heat we decide to repair to the rooftop restaurant 2KW for the panoramic views over the park, and a refreshing cocktail and nourishing bar snacks. Aah, lovely.
Back then to listen to two articulate, funny and insightful authors discussing their life and work as contemporary Arab women: Manal al-Sharif and Amal Awad. Next up was two female poets, Sarah Holland-Batt and Kathy Jetñil-Kijiner. I’m not a great poetry fan, but both these talented women had me in the palm of their hand reading and discussing their work. We finished the day with the ever chortling and highly delicious Alexander McCall Smith – a prodigious writer of books, and marvellously and unselfconsciously entertaining. Phew, what a day.
Time for (more) food. Tonight we dine at the wonderful Africola. If this is what African food is like then I’m going! Everything we tried was absolutely delicious. Please open an outpost in Melbourne.
Time to fall into bed once more.
A leisurely start to the day (at least for me – Heather runs 10km before I am even out of bed). We have nothing planned for the day so decide to head out of town for lunch and end up at Summertown Aristologist, which had been written up in Epicure a few weeks earlier. It seems to be the epicentre of Summertown – locals, kids, dogs are all hanging out there. Have you got a booking we are asked? No we answer. No sweat – a young couple (who turn out to be local winemakers) shuffle up one of the outdoor tables and make room for us. The vibe is relaxed and easy going, but don’t be fooled. These guys are very serious about both their food – wonderful – and the wine they sell. We are soon joined by another couple, who question the waiter about the chardonnays on offer. Not content with describing them he brings out 3 bottles and gives them a taste of each before they settle on their choice. Now, that’s service. We of course join in, and decide on a glass each also (after our locally made, organic version of an Aperol Spritz to whet the whistle). The menu is described as a guide rather than a menu. Much is left to the imagination, and the tastebuds. I can tell you that the bread and butter alone is worth the drive out there. Plus we share the peppers saltfish, the calamari and the grains, herbs, labne. Yum, yum, yum.
We wend our way back via Stirling, where we ask the local hairdresser for advice on the best coffee in town. She steers us to an unprepossessing spot called The Essence Cafe, but turns out she is right. The coffee is great.
We get back to the city just in time for our meeting with Heather’s sisters at the Garden of Unearthly Delights; an Adelaide Fringe Festival institution. Theatre tents jostle for space with food tents and trucks. There are rides and games for kids, and a bar for adults. Tables and chairs are dotted around under the trees, which come alive at night with fairy lights. A delight indeed. The heat of the day forces us towards the Pimms tent, and the purchase of a jug of said refreshment. The girls then go off to forage for (more) food and we graze on a weird Indian version of nachos, called Nanchos (!), and some tasty Caribbean chicken and green papaya salad.
Based on a 5 star rating in Thursday’s Advertiser we had procured tickets, somewhat against our better judgement, for a Fringe show called The Worst. Turns out we should have listened to our better judgement. The reviewer needs to be immediately sacked as she was obviously the sister of Clara Cupcakes, or, seriously under the influence of drugs. This show turned out to be very aptly named. It was indeed the worst thing I have ever seen. There were about 18 of us sitting on benches in a small circus tent being “entertained” by a woman with a shrill voice, dressed in a pink leotard as a blonde octopus. We sat through 20 excruciating minutes before she turned her back to the audience and we 4 took the opportunity to get down low, and go, go, go. We burst through the tent entrance like women demented, much to the surprise of the door bitch, who promptly tied up the doorway so no other poor lamb to the slaughter could escape.
Laughing hysterically with relief at our escape we headed into the streets. A drink was much needed, so we returned to 2KW to admire the evening view and enjoy the now balmy night on the outdoor terrace. The place was rocking with a mainly young clientele, so we enjoyed our drink and returned to the streets in order to admire the Parade of Light – a light display on some of the buildings along North Terrace (a la White Night).
We meet our mate Lizzie at Lounders Boatshed Cafe for brunch before returning to the Space theatre, but this time to see a Belgium play entitled Us/Them. Who would think 2 actors on a bare stage, telling a story about the terrorist siege of a school in Beslen, Russia where over 300 women and children died, would be riveting theatre. Both amusing and heartbreaking in equal measure.
Time to read the papers and catch our breath in the afternoon before heading out for our last Adelaide evening. We start with an early meal at the Social, a quaint local eatery in the suburb of Croydon. Yet another Aperol Spritz to go with a terrific shared pizza and a roast pumpkin salad. Again enjoyed outside as the heat of the day lingers.
Our final theatre experience was at the Holden Street Theatre and recommended by my friend Annie, who had brought her drama students to Adelaide earlier in the week. Her best experience at the Festival she claimed. It was a play called Borders, performed on a completely bare stage by two actors (a bit of a theme of this festival). Thank you for the recommendation Annie – it was indeed an engrossing experience. I was also fascinated to read that the Syrian civil war grew out of graffiti art after Assad had a group of young graffiti artists arrested and tortured for their protest art.
So, 4 plays – 3 of which were exceptional, and one okay (and probably much better if you were new to his work). 1 Fringe experience that was truly dreadful. Some fascinating writers. And some wonderful food. I call that a very, very successful Adelaide Festival foray.