Making assumptions

Several times on this trip I've been wrong-footed by the assumptions that I use to get by in my bit of the world. When I first arrived in the southern hemisphere and kept feeling disoriented it took me a few days to realise that the sun here goes ENW rather than ESW. Later I was confused to be told that somewhere would open in autumn 2013 then to read it would open at Easter. Had the work really finished that far ahead of schedule? Go on, southerners, laugh at me - I finally realised that here autumn comes before spring each year.

Today my assumption that the cycle of the temperate-climate year is divided into four seasons, however wintery spring may be and despite Indian summers, was challenged by discovering at the excellent Melbourne Museum that the year of the indigenous people in this part of the temperate world has seven seasons, marked by length of day, position of stars, weather and what animals and plants are doing. Suddenly four feels arbitrary.

One worldview clash I was aware of before I arrived is that for most of history humans could no more own land than a rabbit could own its burrow and that the European concept of land ownership has caused huge conflict. The museum also told me about John Batman, born near Sydney to immigrant parents, who negotiated a treaty in 1835 with the Wurundjeri people (near what is now Melbourne) to rent their land for 40 blankets, 30 axes, 100 knives, 50 scissors, 30 mirrors, 200 handkerchiefs, 100 pounds of flour and 6 shirts a year. Had they understood the idea of land ownership it's unlikely the Wurundjeri people would have signed, but Batman was foiled in any case: Governor Bourke deemed the treaty invalid because, guess what? - the land didn't belong to the people who lived on it but belonged to the Crown. (Bit of a shame really - if he'd succeeded this part of the world would be called Batmania.)

It occurred to me that yesterday's brazen street artists have more of an indigenous than a European approach to space - a piece of wall is yours only while you paint it. I asked one artist when it was OK to paint over someone else's work. 'If it's good you leave it, if you can do better you paint over it.' Does that cause conflicts? 'Yeah, sometimes. More in Sydney. Round here it's cool. But you can pick a fight if you want to.'

Then I came across Croft Alley and discovered that there can be ownership, of sorts, of wall-space. It's a lane leading to Croft's Institute  - a bar lit by table candles, green light on shelves of bottles and blue haze on large, dusty, glass cases of superannuated chemistry lab equipment where I got the feeling it wasn't done to order anything feebler than absinthe so I backed out. It turns out that this bar claims ownership of Croft Alley's walls and has recently painted over two years' worth of street art in tasteful blipfoto grey, arranged sponsorship from a supplier of high quality paint and invited respected street artists to come and paint a patch in return for a bit of status. I asked 'Paris the Kid' who owns the piece he'd just finished. He was very clear that he did though he was happy for photographers to reproduce it (but upset when he found posters of his work for sale on eBay). He was shocked at the thought that someone might remove the wall and sell it (as has happened to Banksy) but if someone paints over it next week? 'It happens. Usually by not-so-good artists and they normally use black and silver. You must have seen it.' (Indeed.)

I don't know who owns this optimistic building but it's part of Docklands, recently developed and much promoted and also on my wandering route today. I guess the local authority was hoping to emulate the success of dockland redevelopments in Europe but Melbourne dockland contains rows of abandoned retail outlets, a vanished Starbucks, some desperately over-enthusiastic trade fair promotions and lots of advertisements about what a great place it would be to live and work.

So even owning the land doesn't necessarily decide how people choose to use it... or not.