Bow Ties and Beard Oil

Exciting news from the Land that Time Forgot!  According to this blog's unlikely occurrences reporter Tasmania is becoming a land of hipsters.  Apparently the signs are there for those who want to see them.  Smashed avocado is being served on plates in cafes rather than bouncing off your head after annoying a local farmer.  Cultural stuff is happening and not just in cheese vats and some of the more modern clothing is high quality imitations of the stuff Tasmanians have been wearing for generations.  The presence of wooden bow ties and beard oil at the local markets was the absolute clincher. 

"Tasmania," announced my correspondent, "has arrived!"

"Arrived where?" I asked; my correspondent was a little more vague on that.

I must admit I have no idea how a wooden bow tie might be used (ironically one suspects) and as for beard oil I honestly thought this was just a result of working on your car without shaving first.  Still this is definitely big news for a state where sex education involves persuading the kids to keep their hands off their siblings.  To celebrate Tasmania's inclusion in some of the more unfortunate aspects of modern society my correspondent has decided to go to a Moroccan music performance which is being performed by Moroccan musicians.

It's great to have such performances in Tasmania (or indeed anywhere), it introduces people to the wonder of other cultures, broadens their experience of the human condition and most importantly allows people from poor countries to engage in overseas travel.  Hopefully the Moroccan musicians will take time out from serenading people so ridiculously wealthy that they can pay to listen to Moroccan musicians and visit some of the sights of Tasmania while they're here.  I understand they can pick up a wicked wooden bow tie at the markets.  And I'm sure they would be crazy for beard oil.

This is part of the joy of foreign travel, wandering around gawking at all the ways the country you're visiting differs from your own.  Hopefully our Moroccan guests don't get sick or they will discover that when it comes to health care Tasmania is a little closer to Morocco than even Morocco would be comfortable with.  Hobart Hospital is a never ending source of amusement for my correspondent.  An amusement edged with naked terror that she or her children might have to rely on it for medical treatment.  It is the second oldest hospital in Australia and as you can imagine requires a bit of upkeep.

Currently one of the major concerns is chunks of asbestos falling onto patients, staff and the construction workers currently attempting to deal with issues like chunks of asbestos falling on patients and staff.  Another is the mould in the shipping crates.  It was intended that while the more permanent bits of the hospital were being patched up (gluing the asbestos back into place and that sort of thing) a group of large shipping crates were brought in to act as prefabricated buildings.  Unfortunately they leaked and the ensuing mould rendered them unfit for human habitation.

Meanwhile apparently the hospital has lost its accreditation for psychiatric care training because its an unsafe working environment.  That is, it's unsafe for people who are actually healthy and don't need medical attention.  Hopefully its a little more safe for such of the patients as manage to claw their way through the overcrowded emergency room and into the putative safety of a ward.  Mind the asbestos on your way in. 

I suggested privatisation to my correspondent as a way of possibly solving these issues.  She responded by pointing out that no one in their right mind would buy it.  It's a little difficult to argue with that, I rather suspect anyone who would be prepared to buy it is probably the sort of person you don't want running a hospital.  Although to be fair it would appear that the sort of people you really don't want running a hospital are the Tasmanian Health Service.