Here.

Yesterday, I went to the hairdresser. Oh the luxury of two hours where magazine consumption is de rigueur. And where they bring you cups of tea. The bliss. Sitting in the salon in Hobart, I started reminiscing about having my hair done in France. Because, can you believe that for colouring hair,  while Australian hairdresser's favourite kitchen roll is aluminium foil, French hairdresser's use cling wrap instead. Strange but true.

Over the eight months that we were in France I only went  to the hairdresser's twice. Initially, because I was too terrified that my French wouldn't be up to not only making the appointment but then, once I was in, ensuring that I didn't accidentally ask for short, brown or curly hair which in all honesty just doesn't suit me. Luckily, I made friends with Nicole who conveniently had a very similar hair do to me - blonde highlights, longish with straight layers. She facilitated the whole thing with her hairdresser in Beziers and it was the best hair I've EVER had. Disaster averted. Later on, after I had given birth in French, I deemed myself linguistically ready for anything.....even a cut and colour at a swanky Parisian salon under the shadow of the Eiffel Tower where I would have to negotiate the whole show myself. Mercifully, it worked.

So, back to the magazines. Flicking through the August issue of 'Harper's Bazaar' I was reassured that puffer's really are in fashion. See, there was a whole page dedicated to how to wear them:

Admittedly, not the stock standard black Kathmadu puffer sported by most Hobartians and that I too have in my wardrobe, yet surely the same rules apply? I wonder what mine would look like teamed with my Stuart Weitzman black patent leather wedges. Or do I need to shell out the best part of $6,000 for the Burberry Prorsum puffer to carry this look off? Might have to workshop the Kathmandu. One of the founder's of Kathmandu calls Tasmania home and Wikipedia says that she is the fourth richest woman in Australia......I wonder if she has the Burberry puffer?

The same magazine also had a double page spread showing fabulous things do while spending a weekend in an Australian capital city. And lo and behold, Hobart was included:

Because, Hobart now has MONA - the Museum of Old and New Art.....built by ultra eccentric Hobartian, David Walsh, who loves art and is very clever at gambling and winning mind-blowing amounts of money. Enough to fund both the art and the museum.....reputedly $180 million dollars worth. But now the Australian Tax Office is on to him...they've changed the rules around gambling profits so David owes them $37 million. It really is worth the trip to Hobart to see MONA....which, is free admission if you can produce a Tasmanian Drivers Licence (or a second head, so they say) and $20 for everybody else.

Coincidentally, we went on a family outing to MONA, on Sunday. My husband and our eldest son rode their bikes down our driveway and all the way there and back....40 odd kilometres:

The rest of us went in the car. The children insisted on seeing their favourite artworks. Of course the boys are enamoured with Wim Delvoye's 'Cloaca'....a digestive machine which is regularly fed and ultimately produces, yes, you guessed it.....poo:

(Source: The Mercury Online)

 and Erwin Wurm's 'The Fat Porshe':

(Source: The Mercury Online)

The girls prefer the soundproofed room where TV screens show 30 fans singing Madonna's 'Immaculate Collection' album all at the same time.....and with abandon:

However, this time we really went to see the new exhibition 'The Theatre of the World' curated by a Frenchman using David's collection and various bits and pieces from the TMAG. Truly, could you ever believe that in Hobart you would ever see a Picasso and a Damien Hirst in the same place at the same time. It is amazing. Put it on the list and go to MONA.

And of course, no article about Hobart these days is complete without a mention of Garagistes and quite rightly as it really is a fabulous food experience. I can't believe that we haven't been there since January.....might have to put it back on our list.

So when you're finished with art and food, this article suggests that you should spend the night at the beautiful Islington Hotel. I have daydreamed of staying there.......escaping for a night, away from the rigours of domesticity, to the Islington. Yet it's just too close to home.....let's face it, it wouldn't be quite the same experience if the children wandered up the road and materialised at the door. So escape, for us has to be further afield. And I'm liking the suggestion of the Freycinet Peninsula.....husband if you happen to be reading this, let's go.

Rx