Nauru Diary - Sally McInerney Photography

Shown at Ginkgo Gallery, Glebe, May 2013


Unintended autobiographies can be read between the lines of certain handmade signs and notices. Concerning lost companions, transactions of labour, sex, food and unbroken horses, declarations of love, the memorialisation of self and others, they seem like private letters to the world, posted from shadow-caves on the fringe of public life.

Powered by SmugMug Log In

Barista at the Capital Restaurant

The airline’s inflight magazine had suggested that a real cappuccino could be found at the Capital, the only place where this was possible, at least in daytime. I asked the surprised man in the Capital if it were true about the cappuccinos, since there was no coffee machine in sight. He said to wait and disappeared into the kitchen. Pretty soon a young woman emerged, rubbing her eyes in the bright daylight; she had been sleeping. Yes, she could make a cappuccino. She reached an intricate glass contraption off a high shelf and very carefully, steadily, tinkered with it over a small blue flame. After about twenty minutes two cappuccinos materialized: six dollars each, well worth the wait.
24 June 2015