A review of Freo's 2014 Street Art Festival

Here's a brief introduction to the Freo Doctor Blog's latest guest writer:

Name: Elodie

Crawling Status: None of your business.

Number of Teeth: NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. (Those are personal questions. Honestly, where are the manners you're always going on about?)

Days since last nappy explosion: 9. Hang on, wait a second... Nope. 9.

Record number of stink eyes given before midday: 36 (yesterday)

Favourite Geelong footballer: Cameron Guthrie. He wears No.29 which is the same number day that I was born on. He also has blonde locks like me. The stink eyes he gives to Hawthorn players are almost as good as my stink eyes.

Likes: People watching; Giving old people stink eyes when they watch me; Giving stink eyes indiscriminately before midday; Engaging with crazy people on the street that Mum wants to avoid; Seagulls; Dogs.

Dislikes: Pearl (my avian minion whom I'm ignoring at the moment for hissing at me); Old people; People watching me; Old people watching me.

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So to my review:

Liked: Lots of seagulls. 

Wherever we went there were seagulls. My dad made sure that we spent a good fifteen minutes following them. 

(Editor's note: It wasn't fifteen minutes and it wasn't 'following'.) 

The seagull that performed on Kulcha's balcony to close the festival was fantastic, despite the stage being a bit high for my liking. (Organisers take note: babies show approval by grabbing, yanking, and gouging. Clapping takes concentration and motor skills and is a serious business to be conducted only for the gratification of favoured grandparents.) Kudos to the seagull for its remarkable voice and kudos to the organisers.

The other performances - fire-eating, playing with knives, etc - were ho-hum, to be perfectly honest, and nothing I haven't attempted myself when the parental gaze has relaxed for more than two seconds. And yet these amateurs were raking it in! The next time I'm told there's not enough money for toys I'll know what to say. 

Pro tip: It doesn't take a fool to figure out that seagulls are the stars of these festivals. Parents, let your babies see as many performances by them as possible. Also they're accessible! Don't think twice about chasing them around in a pram, even if your legs start to feel tired. You should have bought the more expensive pram and only have yourself to blame.

Liked: Lots of dogs. 

Wherever we went there were dogs. Big ones, small ones, hairy ones, smelly ones, ones with ginger eyebrows. We even got to meet Oscar, a poodle, who was nice enough to let me test his elasticity (ears / face were stretchiest). 

Pro-tip: Dogs are malleable love cushions. Do not ever, ever, ever feel that your baby has been touched and been licked by enough dogs. 

Liked: The three large, oddly shaped seagulls I saw walking around the Esplanade (Editor's note: Saurus). 

I'm looking to replace my current avian minion (Pearl has been annoying me) so I was ready with both hands to grab the one that came up to me. It was a close call for that large seagull. 

Pro-tip: Parents, do not run from a large seagull. 

Liked: Lots of people. 

There were lots of people to watch wherever we went. Most were savvy enough to refrain from making unsolicited eye contact with me, although I had to bring out the stink eye for a couple of offenders. 

Pro tip: Smelly people with loud voices make for the most interesting watching. 

Liked: Ramming into the back of people at the National Hotel stage.

Initially I thought that the organisers had devilish babies in mind when they located a stage at the front the National Hotel. So many people to ram in my pram! My dad didn't disappoint either, but it got a bit annoying after ramming the first twenty legs. 

Pro-tip: You can get too much of a good thing. 

Disappointed: I only met one dog. 

Even though we saw lots of dogs, my dad was a bit slow on the uptake. I was desperate to meet one of the star performers who was at the Town Hall stage. A huge brown St Bernard. He looked amazing! Kudos to the organisers, thumbs down to my dad. I didn't get to meet him though. (Editor's note: I was worried that Elodie would test its malleability a bit too much and get eaten.)

Pro-tip: My dad failed. When my dad fails I decide that his belly button needs to be wider and wider and deeper and deeper. (Editor's note: I just felt a sharp pain in my belly button.)

Disappointed: Where were the cats?

The other day, I saw a cat at a farmers market. In our travels, my dad and I didn't see one cat. I wonder why the organisers didn't book any cats for the festival? They make for the best grabbing. This is a definite lesson learnt for the organisers. Book some cats!

Untried: World record number of bouncy castles

My dad didn't let me go on these balloons of delight. They look promising though.

Pro-tip: See my earlier comment about making belly buttons wider and deeper.

In general the festival produced more likes than disappointments for me. To the organisers: keep booking the seagulls and the dogs. Book some cats next time. Maybe shift the location of the people ramming stage as well.

Esplanade Youth Plaza looks the goods plus things Elodie likes and doesn't like

I'm really glad that this post is such an easy one to write: the Esplanade Youth Plaza looks the goods. Phew. 

On Sunday Elodie and I were on one of our morning adventures when I saw that the fences were down around the Plaza. I couldn't resist stopping to check it out. While Elodie happily busied herself with throwing toys out of the pram, I stood and admired the new addition to the Esplanade. The plaza really looks great! I am impressed. A couple of years ago now, I wrote about Geelong's skatepark/youth plaza. I think Freo's is better (and it is in the right location).

Things Elodie likes and doesn't like

Because this post was so easy to write, I couldn't resist providing Freo Doctor Blog readers (if there are any left) with a quick update on some things Elodie likes and doesn't like.

Obsessed: Seagulls

Number one on the list of things Elodie likes are seagulls. Elodie is obsessed with them. One reason why I must have lost eight kilograms since she was born has been the many, many, many kilometres pushing a pram around the Esplanade following seagulls. Visitors to the Esplanade must be used to a very sweaty blogger pushing his daughter in her pram while she directs him Napoleon style on campaign after campaign. I get the feeling that she could chase seagulls all day. Heaven help them when she can walk.

Obsessed: Straws

A close number two on the list are straws. Yep, if Elodie manages to get her little hands onto a straw (her mum and I do our best to keep them out of sight), it will not be relinquished. Ever. 

Likes: Pinching bruises

This week, Elodie's favourite bath toy has been the bruise on my left arm. She happily pinches it every couple of minutes. After satisfying her bloodlust Elodie normally turns her attention to playing with a funnel or a bath tap. It isn't long before her attention returns to my bruise and with a smile, she extends her pinching fingers again and again and again. 

Doesn't like: Change rooms

A couple of weeks ago poor Elodie was subjected to a nappy change from an amateur: Her dad. It gets worse. It was in a change room at Clancy's at City Beach. That will be the last time I change Elodie in a 'dedicated' change room. 

If a cafe/restaurant ever wises up to having a super awesome (which basically amounts to clean) change room they will be inundated with dads and their babies, let alone mums. 

Causes a retaliatory stink eye before some crying: Pearl's hissing

Elodie got seriously offended by Pearl hissing at her the other day. It could have something to do with six months worth of 'grabbing and not letting going' by Elodie. After being hissed at, Elodie gave her patented stink eye to Pearl before having a bit of a cry. I stepped in and let Elodie take her frustrations out on my beard. 

I've noticed that Elodie is super observant. If her memory is the same, Pearl better watch out.

Undecided: socks

Some of us might have forgotten but, about a week ago it got a tad nippy in Perth. I even recall considering whether or not it was time to stop walking around in my jocks in the apartment. My wife put some socks on Elodie, who was unsure as to these new furry feat. When I got home from work and was greeted to the sight of Elodie wearing shoes (because she kept taking her socks off), I started panicking that Elodie was growing up too quickly. It didn't help that I watched the second season of Puberty Blues for the first time that night.

Being Elodie's Dad

At fifteen minutes after six o'clock on a Saturday morning, I discovered one of the most effective alarm clocks in the world: my then four month old daughter's hand whacking me on the back of my head.

Sleep is, I now know, impossible when a four month old daughter wants her dad to wake up. I also picked up that it's quite possible that Elodie can tell the difference between those days when she sleeps in (week days) and those when she gets to go on early morning Fremantle adventures (weekends). On weekends, she generally wakes up fifteen minutes after my alarm normally sounds and positions herself within convenient whacking distance of me. She then proceeds to whack me unceremoniously. This all happens while her mum watches on.

I could have done with a couple of more hours sleep. But the Elodie alarm had sounded. It was no use pretending to be asleep. Elodie has the kind of persistence that would make Napoleon Hill proud. Once I had sufficiently collected myself from my slumber, I turned to face my little whacker. Elodie was lying on her back facing me with her arm outstretched. Her gummy grin immediately put me in a good mood. I thought to myself that there were worse ways to wake up. All the while Elodie whacked on unperturbed. She was ready for her early morning Freo adventure.

Elodie's seven months old now. She's moved on from early morning whacking to just whacking in general, beard grabbing and snacking on noses. She still enjoys her Freo adventures but at a more civilised hour. I thought that seeing as I'm making my slow and rather disorganised return to blogging, I'd open with a blog post about some of my favourite times over the past seven months being the very proud dad of Elodie.

Number 1: Early morning adventures

Taking Elodie out on an early weekend morning adventure around Fremantle is one of my favourite parts of the week. Our adventures normally kick off with Elodie doing a poo exactly five seconds after she's been buckled into her pram. After a nappy change that generally degenerates, much to Elodie's chagrin, into raspberries being given out left right and centre by yours truly we're normally on our way a good forty five minutes later.

The early morning adventure has its genesis in the almost simultaneous moment when Elodie discovered that she could whack me and my wife deciding that having a couple of hours decent sleep without my snoring was best for our little family unit. We're normally out an about for a good couple of hours. So far Elodie's three favourite places to visit are the Esplanade, the markets and the old Myer building. Lately New Edition with its resident Irish Wolfhound at Velvet Sushi, cooling watermelon juices from the Grumpy Sailor and lots and lots of books for Elodie to grab has been added to the list. 

Number 2: The great poo explosion of 2013

When I talked about this favourite moment with my wife, she asked: Which poo explosion? Yep, there's been a few. Elodie's Christmas present to us was possibly her biggest explosion yet, which was immediately diagnosed as requiring a bath. There was also the explosion when I was playing with Elodie in the bath. One minute she was happily playing. Then, in an instant she stopped and I saw her 'concentration' face. I heard a low rumble emanate from her tummy and a couple of bubbles rose to the surface before I realised with horror what was about to happen. That poo made both of our eyes water. My wife laughed so hard she cried tears of laughter. My favourite poo explosion was the time Elodie sneezed in the middle of a nappy change and sprayed my wife AK47 style. I walked in to the sight of my wife frozen in shock at Elodie's ability to turn her white top into a Jackson Pollock painting. In a millisecond. 

Number 3: Elodie's first midnight play

The old Myer building hosting it's first rooftop bar gig also coincided with Elodie's first midnight play. That night I came to bed around midnight and was surprised to see Elodie awake. I quietly snuck into bed. A couple of seconds passed before a little hand started whacking my head. I pretended to ignore the whacking but to no avail. Elodie, keen for a play, rolled over to face me. She outstretched her arms and smiled a cheeky smile. I tried to hold out, but gave in and returned her smile. My wife, who could see what was going on from a mile away hissed at me: "No play for you." But Elodie was nothing if persistent. She wanted a play and if she wasn't going to get it from her mum she was definitely going to get a play from her unsuspecting dad. So with the music blaring in the background, Elodie chuckling to herself wormed her way over to my side of the bed for her first ever midnight play. Fifteen minutes later she was fast asleep.

Number 4: The great avocado and banana shower

Elodie is now onto solids. Kind of. We've begun introducing solids using a strategy that my wife calls baby-led weaning, but which should really be known as the time of the day when Mum, Dad and Elodie sit together and shower each other with food. Elodie loves it! After some initial misgivings, I'm on board as well. It gives me a chance to fling some mashed up banana and avocado at my wife. Speaking of banana and avocado, last week I returned home from work and witnessed the end of one seriously fun looking banana and avocado shower. Elodie and my wife were covered in banana and avocado! I've never seen Elodie smile as much and laugh as long and loud as those five minutes. Since then we've moved onto sweet potato, baby carrot and Granny Smith apple mash baths.

Number 5: Bath time with Elodie

Bath time with Elodie is hands down the best time of my day. Elodie loves water. When I say she loves water, I say it in the same way that my wife may describe the way I love attacking a breakfast buffet on a cruise ship. Elodie graduated to the big bath soon after she outgrew the laundry sink. My wife had read somewhere that it was nice for a parent to spend bath time with their baby and suggested that I give it a whirl. Man, I'm glad she did. It's great! I get to hang out with Elodie when I get home from work. I also get to relive my childhood by playing in the bath with Elodie. It's a win-win. Sometimes, Elodie and I will be in the bath playing for ages and ages. Sure it has it's foibles like the time Elodie did a poo explosion but all of the smiles, laughs and shenanigans have been worth it. 

Well, that's about all folks. I'm off to test out some more purée's for Elodie, my wife and I to chuck around the living room.

Elodie has arrived!

Huzzah! Freo Doctor Blog readers will be glad to know that my baby daughter Elodie has arrived!

She was born on 29 May 2013 (on JFK's birthday) weighing 3.410kg. My wife and I are still debating whether or not she has jet black or brown hair.

I'm glad to report that my wife and Elodie are both well.

A weiro and his man cave

My wife sent me a link to this article by Tom Cox who writes for The Guardian. 'My dad and the toad that lives in his shoe' is such a great read that I had to recommend it to Freo Doctor blog readers.

Speaking of toads living in shoes, Tom Cox's article got me thinking about our little boy weiro, Spiro, who has set up his own man cave at the top of our pantry. Freo Doctor Blog readers will remember Spiro from his starring role in such posts as 'What my weiros, Pearl and Spiro, have taught me about placemaking,' where I revealed his fetish for playing with my wife's makeup.

Well, he's back, but this time he's discovered his weiro masculinity. For the last fortnight, Spiro has been on a bout of antibiotics twice daily to sort out an eye infection. How do you administer medicine to a bird, you have probably never had to wonder? Basically it involves snaffling him at unsuspecting moments and then, as he opens his mouth to sink his beak into the tender flesh of your finger (or, if you've been doing it for more than a day, one of the many bandaids now covering your hand), you squirt the antibiotic cocktail down his throat.

Our success in giving him his medicine lasted a couple days before Spiro developed telepathic powers. The thought that it might be a good time to give him a dose need only flutter across my consciousness, and he would snap into high alert mode and place himself somewhere unreachable. I don't think that I need to explain that no amount of placemaking skills will help with nabbing a wily weiro who can read minds. So, I did what any self-respecting 36 year old male would do: Walk around with a tea towel draped over my head (for camoflage), resolutely thinking about my latest town planning/placemaking fad and definitely not about grabbing birds. When that failed, Band of Brothers got a couple of viewings. Freo Doctor Blog readers will be relieved to find out that my wife did not issue the go ahead for my 3am shock and thunder raids.

Although we managed to keep up his medicine routine at great cost to both finger and Spiro's amour propre, Spiro wasn't finished with yet. About five days ago, I sauntered into the kitchen Hobbit style for my second breakfast when something spiky swooped down from the pantry and attached itself to my scalp with what felt like little grappling hooks. The little bugger had been watching Band of Brothers! He had set up his own stronghold and was now implementing a classic ambush of his unsuspecting enemy.

He banged on my head woodpecker style before retreating to the pantry and higher ground. Scratching my scalp, thinking that Spiro surprisingly gave a pretty good head massage, I looked up to see him watching me with a glint in his eye. To cap off his victory he let fly with a machine gun rat atat atat whistle and then disappeared back into the recesses of the pantry's top shelf. At that point, I didn't know whether to laugh or to be truly scared (I resolved to sleep with all of our bedroom doors closed that night just to be sure).

Since then, the little guy has been flying off each day for some Spiro time in his man cave, emerging with a look of rejuvenation and renewed confidence. The girl weiros, Pearl and Ramona, aren't allowed in. No one is quite sure exactly what he gets up to in there - my wife reports that during the day she often hears him whistling songs to himself and banging on something, while at other times the cave becomes mysteriously silent. 

Thankfully, his fortnight of antibiotics came to an end the other day and the little guy (with a healthy eye) is sitting on my shoulder enjoying a preen as I type this post. I'm tempted to check out Spiro's man cave but I'm a little worried about what a mind reading, Band of Brothers-watching weiro might be constructing. Plus even boy weiros need their space. Well, there goes the story of the little weiro who lives (part-time) in our pantry...inspired by the toad who lives in a shoe.

And seriously, check out the article by Tom Cox. It's friggin kick ass.

Placemaking power salute: Market Lane, Fremantle Markets

For some time now the good folk at the Fremantle Markets have been quietly kicking some placemaking goals.

With their improvements to Market Lane they’ve taken their placemaking efforts to a new level. The lane has been transformed from a drab entrance into an attractive, interesting part of the markets. Much needed seating with accompanying shade (very important for chronic sweaters such as yours truly) means that people can enjoy their food. Artificial turf combines with new greenery to soften the laneway, making for a more people-friendly place. Regular activities for the kids located in the lane attracts the crowds and cranks up the interest levels.

All of these new initiatives add up to a very earnest placemaking power salute being issued to the Fremantle Markets.

Some cool quotes about cities III

Welcome to the third edition of some cool quotes about cities.

First up is Lorne Daniel:

"Diversity makes a neighbourhood both functional and interesting for people on foot. Density drives that diversity because population density ensures there is a market for diverse retail, social, educational and other options...Our neighbourhood features a number of small boutique shops – one just carrying designer rain wear (we do live on the edge of a rainforest) – serving a niche market. The city needs enough population density to support those niche retailers. Of course, the more such unique stores can thrive, the more they in turn create the ambience that people want. The street becomes diverse and interesting – a destination – for more and more people."

Lorne's quote is from an article in which he chews the fat about what a walkable city really is. The article makes for a great read - pour yourself a nice cooling homemade iced tea and enjoy. I did.

Next up is Marcus Westbury:

"The most basic point at which cities, towns, communities and streets that are failing is often that they fail to fail enough. They become immune to experimentation and innovation and instead get stuck in a binary distinction between 'the big solution' and 'the status quo.'"

I don my cap to Marcus after that ripper of a quote. I took this quote from a blog post in which Marcus outlines his ideas about iterative urbanism. It is well worth reading.

Last but not least is a passage from 'Notes from a Small Island' by Bill Bryson:

"Calais is an interesting place that exists solely for the purpose of giving English people in shell suits somewhere to go for the day. Because it was heavily bombed in the war, it fell into the hands of post-war planners and in consequence looks like something left over from a 1957 Exposition du Cement. An alarming number of structures in the centre, particularly around the cheerless Place d'Armes, seem to have been modelled on supermarket packaging, primarily packets of Jacob's Cream Crackers. A few structures are even built across roads - always a sign of 1950s planners smitten with the novel possibilities of concrete."

I'm working on a theory that Bryson is one of our great philosophers on the subject of citites. I always enjoy reading about his insights into the urban world. In this quote Bryson describes an era of development that should be studied so as to ensure that we don't go down a similar path again. Let's start issuing his books to architects, town planners, urban designers and developers post haste!

That's it for this edition of some cool quotes about cities.

I've added Marcus' blog and Lorne's website "Rethink Urban" to my list of links as well. They're both valuable resources for the town planning and placemaking nerd.

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Click here for the first edition and here for the second edition to check out some more cool quotes about cities.

Valentine's Day special: Lovers in public places

Joe Ravi is the author of this post. He is passionate about cities, placemaking and  public participation and believes in innovative and creative responses to urban planning issues. He is a guest contributor to the Fremantle Doctor Blog.

I’ve been a long time supporter of the Fremantle Doctor and as fellow Perth planning/placemaking geek when the good doctor asked me to contribute to his blog I was of course happy to oblige. We met at one of his favourite Fremantle hangouts to discuss the logistics of my contribution and decided that mid-February would be a good time for my first post. Valentines Day! Perfect, cue cheesy lovers in public places post.

As a younger planning student I kept my supply of two minute noodles and beer intact by moonlighting as a bartender at various establishments around town. The bars I tended were by no means romantic or trendy places and as staff we really had to put a lot of thought into setting the right ambience for the evening.

Over many nights working in these bars I began to observe social interactions and how we as staff could make contributions to encourage further interaction. I discovered, amongst many things, that by playing certain music and setting lights at the right level often we could make our patrons feel more comfortable interacting with one another. When delving deeper into what was happening I started to see more people approaching strangers and prospective future partners, more people were exchanging phone numbers and more people leaving the bar with a person they did not arrive with. We were curating the place and people were responding.

Those people who were successful in meeting a new friend and potential future partners on these nights often returned to the bars and would continue to do so if the right ambience was set. I mean it doesn’t really take a placemaking genius to work out that if you were to meet the love of your life somewhere, then that place would then be considered special for the two of you and you would be likely to return. Even if that love were only for one night you may be more inclined to return again to find if not that same love, then another.

When transitioned into the world of planning these same principles apply. Placemaking legend Holly Whyte noted in his studies of New York's public spaces that in great places, lovers are found and Project for Public Spaces Fred Kent has also stated:

“You know that you are in a really good place if you see lots of affection, you see lots of kissing in good places.’’

So this has got me thinking, did I have it right as a student? Could I have skipped all those years of study and just applied those same principles I learnt in bars, that all people really want in great place is a place, is to meet and spend time with a lover. Perhaps I guess, but that’s the beauty of hindsight and, as a planner, I don’t know how qualified I am to play cupid. So although my role as a matchmaker may be unclear, what is clear is that lovers and great places go hand in hand.

I hope readers enjoy my first contribution and I look forward to writing future posts.

Jane Jacobs quote for Valentine's Day

And my wife said that placemaking had nothing to do with Valentine's Day...

"Neighbourhood is a word that has come to sound like a Valentine. As a sentimental concept, 'neighbourhood' is harmful to city planning. It leads to attempts at warping city life into imitations of town or suburban life. Sentimentality plays with sweet intentions in place of good sense."

- Jane Jacobs, The Death and Life of Great American Cities

I reckon that if Jacobs was writing today she'd swap "neighbourhood" with "sense of community".

Bureauscopes: February 2013

Back by popular demand is the second edition of bureauscopes for February:

Aries

Mercury moves forward in your creative zone after being out of phase for the past month, so it's an ideal time for you to tackle those jobs jobs that require a bit of 'out-of-the-box' thinking: filling in your time sheets, getting past the blocks on websites like facebook and twitter, and explaining to your manager about that unfortunate gazetting mix up. It could have happened to anyone.

Taurus

A major cosmic shift this month signals the beginning of a long, challenging project, so be prepared for a tumultuous start to the new elite AFL fantasy competition. The key question to ask yourself isn't what policy needs reviewing, but who is training the house down over the preseason?

Gemini

While it's been a fun ride, Venus finally departs and settles into your too-many-long-lunches zone, where she is sure to bring your attention to all those feasts you've been enjoying - and if she doesn't, your better half sure will. Try to avoid horizontal stripes until the pace of work picks up again after the Christmas lull (round April) and forces a cutback in midday leisure time.

Cancer

Bask in the glow that is Jupiter spending the next month in your sign. Reports completed: tick. Boss away on a conference: tick. Underlings suitably distracted with customer service enquiries: Boom tick! Just be wary of becoming complacent in the midst of all this good fortune, and make sure you don't post status updates on Facebook during working hours.

Leo

Commonsense guru Mercury moves into focus this month. In the wake of the 'hysterical resident incident' that you so brilliantly side-stepped, know that silence is the best and only option - although there's nothing wrong with slipping their address on the list for the location of the speed trailer for a week or two. Parking it in school zones was getting predictable anyway.

Virgo

Make hay while the sun shines and book another couple of days leave while the boss is away and you can fool the acting manager into signing off on it. Use the money that you saved from not chipping in to that leaving present for a couple of tasty and longish lunches.

Libra

With Mercury, the planet of communication, driving you this month, it's time to punch out as many bland and lifeless media releases as you can. Set yourself a challenge and see if you can crack triple figures on the word count before using the words 'enhance' or 'community' (obviously quotes from the Mayor are exempt).

Scorpio

It's been a while since the long lunch-sick day-late start triple combo, and this is the month to rectify it! With Mars finally switching gear, it's the perfect time to relax and treat yourself to the odd extended 'site visit' or two.

Sagittarius

If you had to identify, in one word, the reason why you have yet to achieve your full potential in the Fantasy Football league, that word would be 'meetings'. Plan ahead and schedule as many as you can for 31st April to prevent your ranking from serious slippage.

Capricorn

When faced with redefining the success of a failed project, never, ever forget that procedure is everything.

Aquarius

Awkward misunderstandings from the Christmas Party and a silly tiff arising from an inopportune office prank are cleared up without too much fuss mid-month with the direct movement of Saturn into your relationship zone. With the work experience student due to start, don't be shy about getting him to take the lead on attending to customer service enquiries.

Pisces

I still don't know any bureaucrats who are Pisces. They're all enablers.

Placemaking power salute: More greenery in the West End

It's been a little while since my last placemaking power salute, so I thought it was about time another one was issued.

As per usual I've been a little slow on the uptake and have taken for granted the introduction of some more greenery onto High Street:

It just goes to show what some well placed greenery can do to soften and improve the worst kind of street frontage. A couple weeks ago as we walked to Breaks in search of some breakfast, even Byron, my five year old nephew who was fixated on getting some ice cream, stopped to admire this little oasis of greenery. Pretty cool.

So without further ado: [placemaking power salute]

Confessions of a traffic engineer: Is the need for speed killing us?

Dean Cracknell is the author of this post. He is a Freo devotee interested in creating diverse places for people. He is a guest contributor to The Fremantle Doctor blog. Dean can be followed on Twitter by checking out: @city_pragmatist

I'll cut to the chase. Placemaking champion, Fred Kent, from the Project for Public Spaces, says it far better than I could ever do:

"If you plan cities for cars and traffic, you get cars and traffic. If you plan for people and places, you get people and places."  

"It is not true that more traffic and road capacity are the inevitable results of growth. They are in fact the products of very deliberate choices that have been made to shape our communities to accommodate the private automobile. We have the ability to make different choices — starting with the decision to design our streets as
comfortable and safe places — for people on foot, not people in cars."

This post is about priorities and the choices we make. Our priorities say a lot about who we are as individuals and as a society. Fred Kent highlights in flashing lights the choice we have all made (whether we know or not) to design our cities around cars.

Charles Marohn, a self-confessed recovering traffic engineer (love that description), reveals the priorities of his former profession on his Strongtowns blog (click here). Charles reckons that engineers have a very unhealthy need for speed. His insights make for interesting and powerful reading and I thought that I’d share some of his confessions with Freo Doctor readers.

(I’ve italicised quotes from the article below.)

The Priorities of a Traffic Engineer

“An engineer designing a street or road prioritizes the world in this way, no matter how they are instructed:

1.         Traffic speed;

2.         Traffic volume;

3.         Safety;

4.         Cost.

The rest of the world generally would prioritize things differently, as follows:

1.         Safety;

2.         Cost;

3.         Traffic volume;

4.         Traffic speed.

In other words, the engineer first assumes that all traffic must travel at speed. Given that speed, all roads and streets are then designed to handle a projected volume. Once those parameters are set, only then does an engineer look at mitigating for safety and, finally, how to reduce the overall cost (which at that point is nearly always ridiculously expensive).

We go to enormous expense to save ourselves small increments of driving time.”

Jeez, talk about misplaced priorities. In another article (click here), Marohn explains that a 40 second reduction in his typical commute time costs his community $107,000!

I value my time, but for me safety is more of a priority. I reckon that our schools, hospitals and community services would be more than grateful to receive an increase in funding at the expense of saving a few minutes of commuting time.

Blame It On The Romans

Where does this need for speed come from?  Looks like it has something to do with the Ancient Romans:

“Some of our craft descends from Roman engineers who did all of this a couple of millennia ago. How could I be wrong with literally thousands of years of professional practice on my side? Of course the people who wrote the standards knew better than we did. That is why they wrote the standard.

When people would tell me that they did not want a wider street, I would tell them that they had to have it for safety reasons.

When they answered that a wider street would make people drive faster and that would be seem to be less safe, especially in front of their house where their kids were playing, I would confidently tell them that the wider road was more safe, especially when combined with the other safety enhancements the standards called for.

When people objected to those other "enhancements", like removing all of the trees near the road, I told them that for safety reasons we needed to improve the sight distances and ensure that the recovery zone was free of obstacles.

In retrospect I understand that this was utter insanity. Wider, faster, treeless roads not only ruin our public places, they kill people. Taking highway standards and applying them to urban and suburban streets, and even county roads, costs us thousands of lives every year. There is no earthly reason why an engineer would ever design a fourteen foot lane for a city block, yet we do it continuously. Why? The answer is utterly shameful: Because that is the standard.”

The need for speed could be killing us! Serious stuff.

What Does This All Mean for Perth?

With Charles’ confessions in mind, let’s check out some streets in Perth and ask ourselves which one a motorist is more likely to speed along.

Case study 1

Photo A

Photo B

Photo A is the obvious culprit. As a wide, treeless road, it has been designed with little other than speed in mind. Our collective priorities are clearly evident to anyone who wants to notice them.

On the other hand I wouldn’t be speeding (if I were to hypothetically do such a thing ...) along the more intimate, little street shown in Photo B. Why? For me, it’s the uncertainty. The street isn’t wide and the parked cars have the effect of making it even less open. If I’m uncertain, I wouldn't throw caution to the wind and put my foot down. It could be dangerous.

Case study 2

Photo A

Photo B

This case study compares different views of the same place - Scarborough Beach Road in Mount Hawthorn. The photos have been taken about 100 metres apart looking in different directions.

As in the first case study, Photo A is the obvious culprit for encouraging motorists to speed. Wide lanes. No trees. No people. Driving along this part of the road, it’s difficult for any motorists to do anything but speed.

Photo B presents differently. The road is not as wide. There is definitely more going on that could make a motorist feel uncertain. Speeding on this part of Scarborough Beach Road is not only less likely, but something I never witnessed on dozens of visits as a nearby resident.

Conclusion

Thinking about Scarborough Beach Road with Charles Marohn’s and Fred Kent’s words in mind, I’m convinced that they’re onto something. Speed must not be the priority when we design our roads and, if we plan for cars, then traffic is what we’ll get (and what we'll deserve).

Hugh Newell Jacobsen said it brilliantly way back in 1929 - “When you look at a city, it’s like reading the hopes, aspirations and pride of everyone who built it”. In other words, it's our collective priorities that we see before us every day.

If I was to take Hugh Newell Jacobsen for a stroll along Scarborough Beach Road, I would ask him what he would read into our hopes, aspirations and pride of our city. I’d also ask him what he thought our community valued most. People or cars?

I don’t think I’d be surprised by his answers. I think it’s time to change our priorities.

__________________

 

Before I go, I'll leave Freo Doctor Blog readers with some sobering stats:

- Australian road toll in 2012: 1,300 people. (Click here to go to the document.)

- Australia has one of the highest urban speed limits in the world. A reduction of 10 km/h in travel speed would prevent 50% of all pedestrian fatalities and 21% of all collisions. (Click here to go to the document.)

Heads up, Freo cafes: Poor customer service isn't cool

I've spent the last couple of days enjoying my birthday festival. It basically involves celebrating the two days either side of my actual birthday in an attempt to be excused from doing household chores (except cooking, for reasons of self-preservation).

On Sunday my wife's family made the trip down to Freo so that we could catch up over breakfast and celebrate the last day of my birthday festival. We left our apartment building and headed to Market Street discussing our many breakfast options. The only prerequisite was that ice cream be on the menu (Byron's input), and a faint but forlorn hope that we might find somewhere with air conditioning.

Option 1: Simple Nosh (on Norfolk Street, near Luna Cinemas)
Simple Nosh's smoothies had come highly recommended by a good friend so we headed off to Norfolk Street to try them out. Upon arrival we trudged around looking for seating for six, but despite plenty of floor space all the tables were set up in configurations of four and two.

We approached a member of staff about the possibility of having two tables pushed together. After vague assent, she promptly disappeared and wasn't seen again. 

After quieting a rapidly overheating nephew by plugging his mouth with a lollipop, we asked a second waitress if we could combine a table with the one we were sitting at. She responded by telling us with a marked lack of enthusiasm that no, that wasn't possible as there were no tables free - apparently the effort of turning her head 180 degrees to an empty table two metres away was too much on a hot Sunday morning.

With my wife showing signs of being on the verge of grasping the waitress firmly by an earlobe and marching her to the empty table for a lesson in furniture identification, the rest of the family wisely decided that if Simple Nosh simply did not want our money, we'd better just leave them to it. 

Option 2: X-Wray Cafe (near Luna Cinemas)
Due to its proximity to Simple Nosh, X-Wray presented as the next logical option for our group. It's been my experience that the food can be hit and miss (I gave up ordering eggs benedict because the hollandaise sauce was always curdled) but I've always enjoyed a friendly, welcoming and enthusiastic service at this cafe.

We sauntered into X-Wray and, after assessing the relative temperatures inside and out, grabbed one of the booths. It was still hot, but not quite as hot as the tables outside. Unfortunately for X-Wray the concrete laneway it sits next to acts as a bit of a heatrap. No sooner had I sat down than I was sweating profusely, and Byron was doing his best impersonation of a five year old in the last stages of heat exhaustion. 

The fan above our booth wasn't switched on, so we asked if it could be turned on, only to be told it wasn't working. My father-in-law then spotted an air conditioning unit near our booth. So, to the sound of weak laments from Byron pleading for a life saving ice cream, he went down to the counter to ask if it could be switched on.

This was happily agreed to, but five minutes later it still hadn't been turned on. So my father-in-law got up and went to the counter to find out again about the air conditioning. This time he was told that they couldn't turn it on, with vague references being made to lost or broken remote controls. He returned to our table and passed on the news. 

It's not X-Wray's fault that both the fan and air con were out of order, of course, although given the layer of dust on both one wonders whether this is a longstanding issue. But why had nobody had bothered to come over and tell us and explain?

Increasingly hot and disillusioned, we decided to move on.

Option 3: Il Cibo (on Market Street opposite Pioneer Park, near the train station)
Fifteen minutes later and after a brief diversion to Breaks (who had air conditioning but were full, no doubt for that very reason) we trudged into Il Cibo.

The wait staff were friendly. They actually greeted us with a cheery hello and a smile as we entered, which didn't happen at Simple Nosh, X-Wray or Breaks. Upon greeting us and seeing the size of our group, the waiter (who bore a remarkable resemblance to both former Chelsea star Gianfranco Zola and, according to my excited mother-in-law, Inspector Montalbano) immediately took the initiative and showed us some tables where we could sit, in comfort and coolness thanks to the functioning air con. This was good.

We sat down and noticed the friendliness and enthusiasm surrounding us. There were singles, couples, and families, all looking content and chattering happily. I immediately remarked to my wife that we should return to Il Cibo more often. The music wasn't too loud and added to the happy atmosphere. Byron was smiling from ear to ear as a scoop of vanilla icecream that he had ordered off the menu promptly arrived with a friendly flourish from the waiter. The food turned out to be tasty, too, and we lingered there for a long while after it was gone, just enjoying ourselves.

Conclusion
My father-in-law commented that in tough times, it is the level of customer service that helps to establish a point of difference for cafes and retailers. I have no doubt in my mind that Il Cibo has created its own point of difference for my father-in-law and that he'll be insisting that Il Cibo is our first option on future visits to Freo for breakfast. 

On this blog, I've talked about the importance of creating memorable experiences for people and having welcoming places. My wife's family did not have a memorable experience (well, not in a good way), nor were we made to feel welcome on Sunday morning. I felt embarrassed about Freo's businesses when my wife and I returned to our apartment. When will Freo's businesses learn that poor or indifferent customer service just is not cool?

And is business really that great in Freo that cafes need make so little effort? Somehow, I don't think so.

Much to do about nothing: A survey about amalgamation

Firstly, a little bit of fun because I couldn't help it and I begged and begged my wife to let me. (I hope Freo Doctor Blog readers know that as a result of my begging I've been forced to begin an exercise program that involves me jogging down to South Beach with my wife cycling by my side. The sacrifices I go through. She said she'd dangle a piece of prosciutto in front of me, so it's not all bad though.)

So how did Fremantle Council end up deciding to survey us all about amalgamation recently?

a) Back in mid-November, Councillor Wilson anticipated that I would suffer a debilitating bout of cruiselag after returning to Freo at the end of my cruise. He thought that he'd do his bit and provide this mild mannered blogger with something to get scribbling about. (There's a seriously awesome power salute coming your way, Councillor Wilson.)

b) In November, and after watching Field of Dreams, Councillor Wilson went to bed and had a strange dream - the Premier beckoning him with calls of "survey them, survey them, I'm really interested to see what they think about amalgamation; there's a state election coming up and if I win I'll claim a mandate, plus it's not Council's decision to make, but what the hey, go ahead and survey them anyway. I could do with a laugh." Councillor Wilson immediately woke up and dotted down the wording for the resolution, ignoring a lingering question as to why he'd been dreaming about Colin Barnett.

c) Councillor Wilson read my awesome blog post about amalgamation earlier this year (click here) and secretly resolved then and there that come December he'd do his darndest to provide a stellar example of why amalgamation really should go ahead. (Sorry, Councillor Wilson, but the City's continued inaction on the Bathers Beach dustbowl, following complaints from local businesses and residents, beats you to the punch.)

d) Thwaites and Wilberforce are back?

-------------------

Now for the serious stuff:

The sense of community argument

The misconception: Without smaller local governments people's sense of community will wither and die.

The reality: It won't. A sense of community relies on the people, not a bureaucratic organisation. 

I used to passionately believe in retaining the small sizes of our local government areas in Perth. I suppose I had fallen for the whole 'small is better' argument. I also bought too much into the notion that a bureaucratic organisation, such as a local government authority, can play in creating and fostering community. Then we moved to Fremantle, where smaller is definitely not better and the people create the community.

If Perth, like Brisbane, was made up of only one local government, would Fremantle's history disappear? No. Would Freoites no longer get that awesome feeling of coming home when the port's cranes become visible? Nope. Would all of Freo's many and varied community groups stop meeting and gathering? Can't see it happening. Is there no sense of community in Brisbane? I wouldn't bet on it. So what makes local government around Perth, and in particular Fremantle, so much better than their counterparts in Brisbane, or Paris, or New York?

The Hulbert Street Sustainability Fiesta has emerged as a classic example of Freo's awesome sense of community in recent years. It is successfully run and managed. It continues to grow. Was it the brainchild of a bureaucrat or a resident? A resident. Has it been run by a bureaucracy or by locals? Locals of course.

Nope, smallish local governments don't have a mortgage over community building.

The smaller is better argument

The misconception: Smaller local governments are best positioned to deliver on people's more demanding expectations.

The truth: Show me the money! It is simply not going to happen with under resourced and top heavy small local governments.

Historically speaking local governments have specialised in operations. 'Rates, roads and rubbish' is the old catch cry that some people use to describe the traditional function of a local government. It served small local governments really well for a really long time.

Things have changed though. Expectations have shifted, quickly and dramatically. In 2012, local government is way more than just the three R's and I'm not entirely convinced that smaller local govies can meet expectations.

Take bike infrastructure: Granted the City has made a significant investment in cycling infrastructure over the past couple of years, but it's a drop in the ocean. People's expectations about living in a bike-friendly city are exponentially increasing. I read of well funded and resourced cities in the United States and Europe who have delivered oodles and oodles of bike lanes over the past four years.

And that gets me onto public transport investment: Imagine you're the Premier in 2013 and you've decided to invest in a massive public transport programme for Perth. Now put your hand up if you want to deal with thirty two - that's right, thirty two - local government authorities complete with all those hundreds of Councillors? Not me.

Nope, I'm not buying this argument either. Me, I want to live in a city where my local government is well funded and resourced. It isn't top heavy. It has the capacity to carry out its operational aspects (the three R's), implement its own projects without relying on consultants, and deliver quality infrastructure.

Conclusion

Without smaller local governments people's sense of community will not wither and die. A sense of community relies on the people, not a bureaucratic organisation. People's expectations of their local government authority are changing. These expectations will only become more difficult to satisfy if local authorities are under resourced and top heavy.

Freo Quick Shot: Crepes, cops and closing down sales

After an outing to a Parisian bistro with a menu exclusively en Francais resulted in my wife coming eye-to-eye with a steaming hunk of marrowbone (with sinew still attached), she became very attached eating out at the street side creperies. Lemon and sugar were generally the favourite. She would watch the cooks eagle-eyed as they assembled the ingredients, ready to squawk "Mais non!" if their hands hovered over anything other than fruit.

So we were both excited to see that a new creperie has opened in the High Street mall, a couple of shops down from Culley's. This weekend we snarfed down some crepes from the Paris Crepes Cafe. They were delicious and very well priced, and hearing the proprietors converse to each other in French while we ate was a bonus. My wife and I will be back for many more tasty crepes. What a great addition to the High Street mall!

This weekend, we were also were chuffed to see a couple of police walking the beat around Freo. We were especially glad to see them around the eastern part of the city centre. It makes such a difference to see police walking the beat, rather than cruising past in a car, especially during the day and in those parts of the city that are hotspots. I hope it isn't a one off.

Finally, my wife couldn't help herself from checking out the last day of Myer's closing down sale. I tagged along with her yesterday to see what the excitement was all about. Walking into the department store felt like being transported to 1980's Russia - vast empty spaces, swarms of people picking over two or three shelves of remainders. It was a little weird.

I'm sad that Myer is shutting up shop in Freo. My wife and I wheeled our first LCD television from Myer to our apartment on a trolley they lent us. I also went through a phase of hogging the massage chairs every Saturday afternoon following a tough game of basketball during the week. Now I'll have to pay for my massages.

I suppose I'm sad because for me, Myer has always been in Freo. I know that its closure was inevitable. It was badly run and it always seemed to be short-staffed. The place was in dire need of an internal refit and don't get me started on the outside of the building. Still, it won't be the same.