Hey! Who hid this sneaky little bad boy back here?…read more Often, when I was sailing three sheets to the wind at the Newtown Festival, with a sauce-laden haute dog in one hand and a cold damned beer in t'other, I'd look up at the big grey bulwark of a wall, stained and monolithic, huge and ancient, and wonder what was on the other side. Narnia, most probably. But damned if I didn't find out the answer just by accident. Had a meeting up on King St. Parked down the side street near St Stephens. Had some time to kill (hey look, a cemetery pun) and wandered in to look at the church but overshot, ending in this quiet, sprawling, crumbling, beautifully decrepit graveyard bounded by the wall, yes, the bulwark, beyond which is Newtown's celebrated park, that very festival site where I've seen so many bands and tried on so many hats. Jeebus it's got a lot going for it. I was the only one in there, wandering around reading the gravestones (my favourite had a big rusty propeller, was erected by the mates of some shipbuilder that died, possibly tragically) and all I could think was, Man, if I was in a band this is where I'd shoot my music video. I walked out feeling cool, calm and collected, like the Dalai Lama must feel every day of his life. That feeling is hard to get these days.

In the middle of busy, grimy Newtown is this beautiful walled cemetery in the grounds of St…read moreStephen's Church. It offers peace and tranquility where you never thought you would find it. There are plenty of shady trees and tombstones, with lush grass interweaving a path between them. An oasis where you can't hear traffic noise or see anything commercial, it's a great place to get away from it all. You will find people wandering through and reading the inscriptions, walking their dog, sitting in a circle playing music, smoking the funny stuff and generally just hanging out. It's my favourite place to come the day after the night before with something greasy from King Street (eg Clem's Chicken) and let nature restore my health.