My name is Ben. I love coffee, people and life. A lot. And travelling.
I live in Melbourne. I miss London.
I post Melbourne photos here.
I also write letters.
"It is better to be defeated on principle than to win on lies."
— Arthur Calwell
“Kissing Under The Clocks”
This is one of my favourite photos. I took this by pure chance as I was waiting outside Flinders Street Station one evening.
7:31pmI received two more return letters today! It’s so nice coming home to some hand written correspondence.
I’ve received quite a few back now which means I need to write back. I’m working a ridiculous amount at the moment (saving for travel), but I will try and do so as soon as possible.
For those that received a letter - I hope you could read my writing. For those that wrote back - thanks!
Four years ago today I was at Gallipoli. I was there with my friend Hannah. We had met at a hostel in Selçuk and (being a fellow Australian) we joined to make the trek to Gallipoli.
The closer we got to Gallipoli the more Australians and Kiwis we met. Everyone making their way to commemorate Gallipoli.
We arrived for the Dawn Service in the early evening on the 24th. There were already a few thousand people at and around the site. As night descended and it got colder, we realised we had made a grave mistake in not bringing our sleeping bags. I mean we were heavily wrapped up, but had left our sleeping bags at the bus depo to save hauling them around. That was an error. I later bought a blanket for a few Lira and five euros. I basically gave the guy all I had and still I was freezing.
As the night went on and it got colder, I started to think about what it must have been like sitting in a boat out to sea sailing up to an unknown land. The exhilaration of adventure slowing giving way to the stark reality that you were about to jump into freezing water and quite possibly die.
How terrifying it must have been plunging into that icy water and running ashore in a hail of bullets, watching people blown apart around you. The flat beach and plains you were expecting actually being steep mountains and cliffs. Expecting few enemy combatants, but getting staunch resistance.
This was no longer some jaunt to the other side of the world, but a baptism of fire for most of the men who had never left Australian shores.
After having spent all night outside, mostly shivering, the service itself passed quickly. We all filed up the hill towards Lone Pine and Chanuk Bair for the respective Australian and Kiwi services. At Lone Pine I had the chance to walk past graves of fallen soldiers and see their ages: 18 and 19. One 16.
It reminded me of something Andrew Denton had said after visiting there, that it made him angry. All those young lives lost for what? I felt much the same. If I had been born in a different time, I could have been one of the men in those trenches. Dead. A terrifying thought.
In the morning I will be at Melbourne’s Shrine of Remembrance for the Dawn Service. There to commemorate those that lost their lives at Gallipoli and all those that have served and died. Grateful in the knowledge that their sacrifice was not truly in vain, but rather secured the freedom I enjoy today.
Lest We Forget
This is one of my chickens, Mrs Bojangles.
I’ve no idea what breed it is. Does anyone know what breed it is?
UPDATE: It is a Light Sussex.
1:57pm
