Uncertainty in the corridors of power

Apparently, when you get on a plane to Canberra, there is a one in ninety chance you'd be sitting next to a person who works in home affairs. (On Wednesday afternoon, there was also a one in sixteen chance you'd be sitting next to an India cricketer.)

Iákobos - who became Jack before I could butcher his name - told me all sorts of stories. Cleaning house playing poker in Singapore. Swimming in secluded little spots in Samoa. Stepping out of his hotel lobby and walking straight into a fire dancing routine. He seemed like the kind of guy who'd know what the hot spots in Canberra are and he told me I could spend a night at the zoo and wake up to a lion at my window. Gulp!

I chose a mellower outing. An early morning visit to the waterfront, where I got my fill of less scary wildlife.

Wide open greens.

Slightly dated signage.

BTW, Queen Elizabeth's jewellery box must have been a very big box.

These were available for view a little way over, at the old Parliament House, which is now the Museum of Australian Democracy.

The Prime Minister's Office, the Senate Chamber, and the House of Representatives were all perfectly preserved.

But it was more fun looking in on the offices of the senior aides, which looked like they'd all just popped out for a bite, the day's work all over their desk.

Politics and cricket aren't meant to mix but nobody told these guys.