I thought I'd put a church on the old reviewer's chopping block. I'm not a religious man, myself, but neither am I a Richard Dawkins (who I think's a bit of a twat, really. Christopher Hitchens is my atheist of choice), but I'm a hopeful agnostic: one who is skeptical, and thinks generally that we'll never know about the mysteries of the cosmos, but one who always hopes he might.
The church was locked tight, with some very flashy doors barring the way to peace and enlightenment. (I found out post-review writing that you have to enter the back way for some good old-fashioned pew-sitting.) However, there was a sign directing me to help myself to a sit down on a 'sofa of hay'. I found a tucked away sofa, assembled from hay, and decided to take a seat. To my surprise and exclamation, it was quite comfortable.
This is the sort of absurd quaintness that I love to discover. It's the sort of thing we forget about in our age of technology, and it was a remarkable find I shall endeavour to visit again the moment I can. If you're ever on Flinders Street, gentle readers, seek it out. read more