Tasmania

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“What would you like to do tomorrow?”

“How about a hike?” I suggest.

This is how I came to be traipsing round Salamanca market on Saturday looking at clothes and jewelry with Mags and Karen, Malcolm having wisely dropped us off and headed back home. We’re moving at snail’s pace and I’m walking as slowly as I can, but after a few minutes I glance around they’re stuck in another stall. Eventually, I pace up and down doing laps of the market; at least I get a walk of sorts. Eventually, we head off to a bar on the square behind the market to celebrate Mags’ two cute new tops.

We’ve arrived coincidentally for the start of the Sexpo exhibition in Hobart town centre. While sipping our drinks we watch as a man in a pink top hat and matching codpiece, and not much else, walks into a local café and comes out with several Devonshire cream teas. We later see him sharing these at the side if the exhibition with some men in leathers and beards.

Next day, the other three take pity on me and we head to Mt. Field national park.

We have a really enjoyable walk through a beautiful emerald forest full of never ending trees and giant ferns, the stream’s promise always nearby. We see a couple of Pademelon. No, not an exotic Irish fruit, but a small marsupial.

 

 

 


















Next we head on up further where the temperature drops 8C but we’re still bathed in warming sunshine. A magical short walk around a small lake with gum trees with trunks of swirling reds and grays, and alpine bushes all fruiting with small berries in red, pink, black, white and tangerine.

One of the great things about Tasmania, and there are many, is that it is one of the few places left in the world where you can really get away from everyone else. The great South Western wilderness is one such area, and the part we chose to explore was Hartz national park. An alpine region above the tree line leading to magnificent views along the Huon valley.  

The walk is on a well maintained boardwalk that protects the delicate flora underfoot. There’s a myriad of plants here interspersed with crystal clear tarns and small lakes where crayfish burrows are glimpsed in the banks, all fringed by stony hills and peaks. A fragile moss here grows slowly in the cold climate, made up of thousands of tiny intricate plants meshed together for survival.

 

On the way back, we stopped at an apple museum (It wasn’t a long stop), and sampled some cider.

We drove out to the Tasman peninsula, south east of Hobart. Another scenic drive through country peppered with blow holes, worn sandstone cliffs and tessellated pavements. Our destination Port Arthur, a convict settlement and Tasmania’s most popular tourist destination. This is a large site built up during the nineteenth century with several buildings still standing and carefully restored such as the commandant’s cottage. The most prominent building is the penitentiary used for lodging convicts, the ones deemed the worst offenders in cells at the bottom. The settlement started modestly as a logging operation to replenish the timber stocks in the UK depleted from the Napoleonic wars, but soon expanded. The penitentiary started life as a mill, build over the creek. Unfortunately, the water flow was insufficient to drive the mill and convicts were used, like hamsters, to tread the wheels. This was dangerous work and resulted in several casualties.

We hopped aboard a ferry to ‘dead man’s island’ or ‘Ilse de mort’. This is where all the dead from the settlement were buried. The fist reverend of the town declared that convicts should not have headstones, so around 900 to 1500 bodies are here in unmarked graves. It was also used for free settlers, soldiers and their families, and later cnvicts who did erect gravestones. Our tour was conducted by a very entertaining Canadian chap of Scots descent who brought the place alive (no pun intended) with stories of a selection of the departed; how they come to be in the settlement, their ‘crimes’ life and eventual death. Needless to say, there were a few characters who ended up there. Back at the main settlement, we mooched around for a few hours wandering around the buildings including the ruined hospital and a cottage that housed some Irish nationalists and English Chartists; interesting to see that most of the Chartists’ demands have since been passed into law.

There was a feature in the local news about underwater hockey while we were here. People are actually trying to move a puck around a swimming pool floor while holding their breath. Apparently, Tasmania is a world leader.

Lunch in Melbourne

“Tony Abbott celebrates 100 days with no asylum seekers.” I haven’t made that up – a real headline in the papers. Welcome to Australia (if you can get in). Now we’re here I’m tempted to apply for asylum, but from what, warm beer? That might actually work.

We’ve rocked up in Melbourne for lunch with our friends Barney and Spitfire, although lunch

appears to have lasted a week. We’re in Werribee, a South Western suburb with insects constantly fretting about the price of honey. We started at the excellent local winery of Shadowfax where numerous bottles of rose were consumed, and we were actually thrown out to make way for the evening wedding party. We moved onto superb Spanish tapas in town, and rounded off with the colonial tram, where excellent food and wine is served in a restored tram that gently clanks its way around the city, taking us to St. Kilda along the coast past the Palais Theatre, and back again. In between courses, Barney and I found time for a round of golf and an Aussie rules football game at the state of the art, modern, impressive Etihad stadium. Did someone pass a law that all new stadia have to be named after middle eastern airlines?

Tasmania next, so jumpers packed and ready to go.

Bay of Fires Walk, Tasmania

Another trip, another crazy walk.

We were picked up early on Saturday morning from our hotel in Launceston and transferred to the rendezvous point at Quamby where we packed our kit bags and met our fellow walkers and guides. Ours was a portered walk so we transferred our clothes and other stuff into a bag to be carried for us to camp, while we packed a day pack containing extra layers, raincoat, water and the all important lunch. Sheer luxury.

We drove out to Mount William National Park to start our walk watching the weather carefully. October in Tasmania was always going to be risky. We started out in fine weather but soon the sky filled in and the rain started. Just when we were all resigned to get soggy, the clouds parted, hallelujah, and we started in bright sunshine. We emerged from a small car park onto a small creek and a few paces later onto a pristine white beach on the North Eastern Tasmanian coast.

The walking was easy going, flat along the beach with a little scrabbling over some boulders. Beautiful, beautiful scenery, the sea gently sweeping in to the beach dotted occasionally with seashells of brilliant kaleidoscope colours. Sea birds busily working the shoreline with the bush providing a tranquil green border and haven for wallabies and forrester Kangaroos.

We ended our 1^st day at a semi permanent camp where our guides prepared a hot meal washed down with some excellent Tasmanian Pinot Nior.

We awoke to another sunny day albeit a little sleepy after a night of wind and rain kept us awake. We continued south to Eddystone Point Lighthouse, the most easterly point of Tasmania.

We were in a group of 8 walkers with 2 guides. The other six were one group from Sydney who were old friends getting together for a long weekend, so we were the outsiders, but made very welcome all the same. The 6 decided to plough on after a short lunch to make the lodge in good time to start partying, while we decided to stay a while and visit the old lighthouse that still warns shipping today. Hard to believe, but there are some people in the world even more desperate than us to reach the bar for refreshment. The lighthouse, built in the 1890s and manned until the mid nineteen nineties, is a sandstone structure standing 35 metres tall on the peninsula. Its closed but we peeped through the key hole (I wonder who lives in a place like this?) and glimpsed an impressive wrought iron circular staircase. The light used to be visible from 35 kilometers but caused some difficulty for local birdlife apparently causing them to crash into the surrounding area. With all ships now using GPS as the primary navigation guide, the light has been dimmed to help the birds and this appears to have solved the problem.

Back down at the beach we collected our bags and prepared for the walk into camp. The weather was really fine and quite warm so we were taking layers off and slapping on the sunscreen. But this is Tasmania, and 5 minutes later a strong headwind hit us. We quickly emptied our daypacks and put on all our layers as the rain and then hail started. The next 3km down the beach took a little while leaning 45 degrees into the wind, but great fun anyway. The approach to the lodge is gained via some scrabbling over orange boulders that capture millions of bi-valve shells as they are washed up, and finally up through some scrub for 500 metres.

The lodge is a wonderful place, all bright pinewood, a long rectangular structure containing 10 rooms and two shower / toilet blocks. There’s a long communal area where the kitchen and dining area flow into a comfortable lounge where soft sofas are arranged around an enormous log fire. The North wall is covered in glass flooding the area with light and providing a window on the bush where wallabies with joeys are regularly seen nibbling the vegetation. There is a deck at each end with deck chairs looking out towards the sea and up and down the coast. After a hot shower we joined the others for drinks and dinner.

We had quite an evening. The other guests were clearly hell bent on partying. The music was cranked up, the wine flowed and before long we had a catwalk competition and dodgy dancing. Mags even pulled out the old Abba Shovel dance.

Next day the others decided on a quiet day at the lodge which left me and Mags as the only takers for the days walking and kayaking. We were transferred upstream on the Anson river after a short 30 minute walk through the bush. Judy was waiting for us with our 2 man kayak. Mags took the front berth leaving me to steer in the back. The river runs a channel through a steep gorge that is covered with gum trees providing a sheltered and tranquil area. We set off at a leisurely pace immediately passing a lone blue heron. We drifted calmly downstream admiring the wildlife and scenery and emerged at the mouth of Anson bay an hour or so later, past a squadron of Pelicans. There’s no sheltering hills here and the wind was whipping up white horses. This was our bail out point. Nikki, our guide, asked us if we wanted to cross the bay or be picked up here. Of course, we decided to plough on. The wind was fortunately behind us so we raced across the bay practically surfing the waves laughing all the way. We paddled for show as the wind would have propelled us across on its own. We saw what appeared to be two men walking on water near the end of the bay but turned out to be fishermen collecting pipi shells in very shallow water.

We lunched at a pretty clearing in the bush still buzzing from our kayak and walked back to the lodge along a long beach of white sand passing some rolling sand dunes (‘orance!)

Great Aussie Road Trip

The famous five assembled in Waterfall to begin their epic journey.

Mrs. White - Thelma, aka Big T

Mr. White - Judge John

Ms. Orange - Kazza

Mrs. Pink - Mags

Mr. Pink - Gazza

We headed out of Sydney, across the Great Dividing Range in our Toyota Kluger, a vehicle somewhere in between a large car and a small truck. First stop Leura in the Blue Mountains and to the Bake house on Wentworth for the first, and the best, of many Aussie meat pies. The weather was kind, clear and sunny if a little fresh. The cherry trees were in full bloom marking a riot of pink down the middle of the main street. We stopped, as everyone does, at Echo Point, where there was a magnificent, endless view of the valley, the three sisters proudly pointing to the blue sky tinged with a eucalyptus haze from the countless trees carpeting the valley.

We were heading to Newbridge, a dot of a place near Bathurst, carefully booked hours in advance by Kazza via the tourist information office. We roared into ‘town’ and found the hotel standing proudly as the only business in town. The place has been acquired by a young couple who are renovating it. We were the first guests as they had just opened the accommodation and I mean just. They were hoovering the hallway and painting the ceiling as we arrived. We had three rooms and shared the one bathroom that was basic but functional. We had a few drinks in the bar, where a small gathering of locals had made a special appearance to check out the strange tourists. John danced the night away with the owners’ 3 year old girl, Poppy. There were plenty of polite enquiries of “Why Newbridge?” and some puzzled looks.

Day 2 and we zoomed off to Griffith, a much larger country town that is a centre for fruit growing and host to some massive vineyards where a lot of the grapes for quaffable Aussie wine are grown. We drove to a nearby lookout where the huge valley floor below was covered with fruit trees and vines. We walked around some rocks and scrub to the former cave dwellings of a ‘famous’ hermit, an Italian immigrant, Valerio Ricetti who lived there from the late 1920s to 1952.

Griffith’s other major feature was a world war II Royal Naval fighter plane which is perched prominently high above a roundabout at the entrance to the main street. Why it is there is not clear. We managed a quick trip to a vineyard or a tasting where a helpful lady asked us “Why Griffith?”

We trundled on towards pretty Echuca, a town built around the transport of goods to Melbourne along the mighty Murray River using steam ships. At one time, it was the third largest port in Australia behind Melbourne and Sydney. We obligingly booked a cruise along one of these preserved ships, the Pevensey, a 100 year old wooden vessel housing an impressive Victorian steam engine at its centre that still looked brand new, although the ship itself looked barely capable of staying afloat. We spent a couple of pleasant hours steaming up and down the river passing numerous ‘house boats’ that are popular as holiday homes. They look exactly like mobile homes on land, expect with an outboard motor on the back, like a floating breeze block.

Onwards from Echuca to Beechworth, a very pretty Victorian town built on the mining boom, and now enjoying a healthy tourist trade, bolstered by the story of the infamous bush ranger Ned Kelly. Kazza, Thelma and John strolled around the museum and court house while we joined a walking tour of the town guided by a Ned lookalike. We also had a quick peak at the gaol, an impressive sand stone structure that once housed Kelly and was in use until 2005. It’s now open to tourists. We stayed in a beautiful ‘Swiss’ cottage where the log fire kept the chill away, and I barbequed sausages and lamb chops in the rain under the carport.

Final stop Ballarat, another mining town, although much larger with some impressive buildings in the centre of town. Not much more to report as we spent much of our time there in the Irish pub drinking wine and being raucous. Next day Mags and I departed for Melbourne, leaving John, Kazza and Big T heading into Sovereign Hill, a tourist attraction reliving the mining era, and then onwards to the great ocean road. Not heard from them since….?

We were guided wonderfully through the country by Serena, a stern but reassuring voice I’d downloaded into the GPS. We had only one navigation blip when she suddenly instructed me to take a right down a minor road as we approached Lockhart, although our current route appeared to take us straight into town. What the hell? It might be interesting. So we soon found ourselves turning into a dirt track. We were in a 4WD so thought we’d plough on. The steady rain that we’d driven through all day suddenly became a lot harder and the wheels started to sink into the red earth. Soon, the car was sliding about and I was having to turn right to go left a la Doc Hudson. Our slippery progress was finally halted when we encountered an abandoned car across the track. Mags and John jumped out to lighten the load (Not thinking straight there as they’re the lightest) and to direct the 3-point turn. Mags positioned herself behind to ensure that I didn’t reverse into the ditch. I went hard down on the accelerator, spinning the wheels like a dragster for traction and managing to turn us around. I looked in the rear view mirror to see Mags spitting out mud. Unfortunately, she caught up before we could escape.

Western Australia

We finally arrived after the endless flight. I started to fret that the Aussies might regain the Ashes before I arrived. I’d only come to rub it in.

We started in Perth, more precisely a seaside resort called Scarborough, which is actually in the neighboring city of Stirling. Those Scots get everywhere. The Indian Ocean is framed by a long sandy beach stretching North and South. A cycle and walking path runs parallel to the beach the other side of a sand dune wildlife park that is carefully preserved. A sign declaring that there are snakes in the park has the desired effect of keeping people to the designated paths.

We drove 3 hours south to Margaret River, a small town supported by the surrounding wine district. We were here 10 years ago and there are definitely a lot more wineries, although there are still plenty of rural farms. We found a charming retired air force chap called Bill to drive us around the place with Wine tasting starting at 10a.m. Bill really enhanced our day with his knowledge of the local flora and fauna. We finished up with lunch at Leuwin Estate winery, superb.

We flew on north from Perth to Broome in the Western Kinberleys. We were now in the tropics where they have only 2 seasons, wet and dry. We arrived at the back end of the dry season. No need for a weather forecast. The days are 36C and sunny – every day. We stayed near Cable Beach, so called as the first place where a communications cable was laid along the sea floor to Asia. Another long, long beach – 22Km of pristine white sand. We walked on it for an hour or so without appearing to go very far. The sunsets are famous with the beach facing west so we headed to the handily positioned bar for a sundowner. The sunset was spectacular but does happen rapidly. We ordered our well deserved G&T, but the sun dropped like a stone and was long gone by the time the drinks came. You can actually see it moving it descends so quickly.

We booked a day trip on a small plane visiting some of the local attractions. First stop Windjana Gorge in the Napier range (www.kimberleyaustralia.com/windjana-gorge-national-park.html ) where a short walk up the Lennard River had us face to face with half a dozen crocodiles sunning themselves on the riverbank. No need to panic, as these were fresh water crocodiles and no danger to humans unless provoked, and we certainly weren’t going to be introducing ourselves. An ancient place, the rock walls have fossils of primitive sea creatures from hundreds of millions of years ago when the area was under the sea.

A short hop and we were at Bell Gorge for a leisurely walk through the bush and a refreshing swim in a rock pool underneath a picturesque waterfall. The rock pool floor was covered with moss making entry and exit a slippery exercise. Subsequently, I crashed into the pool in a buster Keaton comedy slide and dive.

The scenic flight back took us over countless tiny islands, some hollowed out through mining, and the famous Horizontal Falls where a small gap between two gorges has water gushing from one to the other creating the impression of a flat water fall. We had a brief stop at Cape Leveque where I had power snooze on the beach as Mags dipped her toes in the sea.

Technology really is marvelous, darlings. I downloaded the Australian road map to my phone (my phone!) so that I wouldn’t have to rely on Mags’ wonderful but eccentric navigation. The app came with a choice of voice-overs to guide me through the bush. I was tempted by Kylie and Dame Edna but opted for Rolf Harris. Good choice. As we approached our destination we had Rolf asking, “D’ya know where you are yet?”

Queensland

Queensland, as hot as chip fat.

Brisbane
We flew north to visit Glenys and her boys Zak and Adam. We generally hung out for a week basking in the sunshine and relaxing. We helped Glenys celebrate her ?? birthday on the 6th March and received some wonderful news from home where our niece Leah had given birth to Sarah Louise in the same day, making Mags a Great Auntie – but don’t tell anyone.

Fliss travelled up from Sydney by train and the two of us visited the all new Queensland museum of modern art, housing all the works post 1970 that had previously been housed in the nearby state art gallery. We travelled there along the river using the wonderfully convenient citycat service. There was a very interesting exhibition of Asia Pacific art that we both enjoyed before meeting up with Mags for a spot of lunch – it’s a hard life.

We spend an afternoon having a barbeque by the pool shared by the residents of Glenys’ apartments. Alcohol was “not allowed” so we were drinking plenty of “apple juice”.

Cairns
We continued north to Caaaaairns, near Cairns to catch up with our friends Lynette and Rudy who have spent the last year living on a Catamaran cruising the Queeensland coast. They’re holed up in the Cairns marina for the duration of the cyclone season. You can learn all about their unbelievably idyllic life by visiting Lynette’s wonderful blog - click on the link to the right of this page.

We spent a memorable day with them on their boat where we cruised to Fitzroy Island, approximately 2 hours away. We anchored about 100 metres from the shore with half a dozen other boats to idle away the afternoon. We jumped into the 28 degree C sea with flippers and goggles for a gentle swim over the nearby reef, and met up with a friendly turtle amongst the rainbow coloured reef fish and coral.

Back on board, I asked Rudy how far further north we would need to travel before we encountered any of the scary, man eating salt water Crocodiles. “Oh, we have them here”, he casually replied as the colour drained from my cheeks. Actually, they like to hang out in the rivers and creeks and, although they do venture out to sea, they generally stick to the outlets of the rivers on the mainland. On the islands, where there are no rivers, it would be very rare to see one. Well, that’s what he told me anyway.

Rudy cooked up a rack of lamb on the barbeque for lunch accompanied by his legendary potato salad, and the afternoon slipped quietly away under the southern sun. Quite a day, and they do this all the time – we’re not jealous at all.

We also had a trip out with them to Mossman in the Daintree Rainforest where we walked round a short 2km circular track. Typically, we find this irresistible. A path that leads nowhere, we couldn’t help ourselves. I went off ahead, as I wanted to get some exercise as Mags was moving like a united nations resolution. I left her limping behind chatting away to Lynette where they managed somehow to get lost before eventually regaining the car park two hours later.

Tasmanian Road Tour

Karen and Malcolm kindly lent us their four wheel drive and we blasted off into the Tasmanian wilderness. We headed north to a small village called Westbury via the scenic route alongside the great lake. We stopped briefly for a couple of short walks; one amongst some rare pencil pines, slow growing trees some of which were hundreds of years old; and another to a small waterfall through some impressive giant ferns, the tops of which were illuminated by bright sunshine that pebbledashed the forest floor.

Mags couldn’t do too much with her heel so I spent a day walking to Meander falls which was a fairly oppressive uphill climb through forest finally ending at the falls that, true to their name, were a mere trickle of water running into a rock pool below, but was a beautiful and peaceful spot for my packed lunch. This certainly was getting away from it all, as I only saw one other couple all day, and a solitary tiger snake which fled in one direction nearly as fast as I did in the other.

Strahan

Gradually we made our way West to Strahan, a small village that appears to be owned by one company; the accommodation, the cruise, and all three restaurants. Unfortunately for us, this monopoly has led to standards slipping as they clearly don’t have to try too hard to keep their customers. The food in the restaurants was truly terrible which is quite an achievement considering that the raw produce is superb. The main reason for visiting Strahan is to take the cruise along Gordon river into the rain forest covered with antique pines. The half day trip is fantastic with the still, wood stained river reflecting the forest all the way along its banks. There’s a brief stop for a walk in the forest with information boards dotted strategically around providing details of the unique flora. We also stopped at yet another old convict settlement at Sarah Island, where there is the option of a guided walk along the ruins. We detached ourselves from the group and generally wandered around for an hour.

We stopped at Queenstown on the way back to Hobart, a mining town stuck strangely in the past; the kind of place that Captain Kirk and Spock used to beam down to. The buildings had the wild west feel as seen by a 60s TV director, and looked as if they might be made of polystyrene. The locals also seemed strangely odd, as if they could be aliens masquerading as country folk.

Back in Hobart Karen and Malcolm completely spoiled us with day trips all over the place and Karen’s fantastic vegetarian cooking. We spent many idle hours on their terrace overlooking the river watching the ships sail by including the QE2 that was in the harbour for a couple of days.

Maria Island Walk

We arrived in Tasmania ready for a fortnight of hiking and, with military planning, had no idea what we were going to do. We were staying with our friends Karen and Malcolm who moved here a year ago from Brisbane. Karen brought out loads of tourist brochures on the first night and suggested the Maria Island walk that she’d read a favourable article about. We called up with the expectation that it would be fully booked, but were pleasantly surprised that there was one place left, leaving the next day. Ian, the owner of the firm, happened to live in the same district of Hobart, Taroona and came over 20 minutes later to show us what the walk involved. It looked fairly easy going and our heels had apparently healed, so we felt fairly confident

We set off the next day and met our fellow hikers and guides in the centre of Hobart, Pam, Jenny, Geoff, Anne, Lawrie, Naomi with our guides Stephan and Rosie. All Aussies and from Sydney except for Noami who lives in Melbourne. Typically, most tourists here are Australian as foreign tourists tend to do Sydney, the reef, and Uluru, and then run out of time.

We piled into our minibus and embarked on a gentle hours drive to the north where we boarded our private boat for the transfer to Maria Island. We were taken to a beautiful deserted beach to start our walk, where we jumped down into the shallows for our first taste of the cool crystal clear Tasmanian waters. Maria island is split into two distinct halves separated by an isthmus, a narrow sand bank that links the north and south parts of the island. We walked the short distance across the isthmus from one beach to the other where we were greeted by the rotting corpse of a seal. At least it kept the flies away from us. After a quick sandwich lunch we hauled our packs a short distance to our camp for the night. Yes, Mags and Gary camping – keep watching for those flying pigs. Each couple had a small, semi-permanent canvas cabin equipped with twin beds with foam mattresses. We slept in sleeping bags with the flap down and zipped to keep the bugs out so it was fairly comfortable. We can’t really claim to have been roughing it too much.

After settling in we trudged off on a hike across the southern part of the island to haunted bay. There’s a well worn path through the bush that takes about an hour at a brisk pace. Naomi charged off in front and we practically had to jog to keep up with her.

The end of the bush walk drops down steeply and clears to a large shelf of orange and green rock overlooking the bay. Stephan produced a few snacks from his backpack and we munched while watching dolphins and seals playing in the bay. Scrambling down the last few hundred metres, we encountered numerous fairly penguin fledglings, peering inquisitively at us from crevasses in the rock, where their parents make their nests. Some are surprisingly high up the cliff and it must be very hard work for the adult penguins to carry the catch up to feed the chicks.

On the way back Mags’ heel started to flare up again which wasn’t great as we had another 3 days of walking ahead of us. Back at base camp, we all made the short walk to the beach for a quick swim before dinner. This was also the only way really to wash as there are no showers at camp, just a composting toilet and some tank water from a small tap. The water was cool, but not cold, very invigorating. We all stuck closely to Jenny who is a life saver at Manley.

Later at camp we sat down to our first gourmet dinner cooked by Stephan, ably supported by the diminutive Rosie. The menu for the walk has been designed by top chefs, with complementary wines specially chosen. Our first meal consisted of scallops with black rice together with superb local Pinot Noir, really wonderful.

Next day we set off for a walk predominately along the coast northwards taking in five different beaches. This was easy walking which was just as well as Mags foot was deteriorating, but she limped along slowly at the back like a trouper. We paused at an old farm house. The island has a rich history, including its most recent use for agriculture. Now the whole island is a nature reserve with only one permanent resident, the park ranger. There are no cars, just a few cycle tracks and plenty of walking trails making hiking a very pleasant and peaceful experience.

We lunched under a tree near an old prison, its remains perched on top of a grassy hill overlooking the sapphire sea. These convicts must have been particularly unlucky to end up here; mainland Australia must have been a remote outpost back then (Well OK, it still is). But not content with that, these poor devils were expelled to the Island to the south, and then to an island off Tasmania. They might as well have been on the moon.

Our second camp was also conveniently located close to a beach where we again washed away the day’s exertions in the ocean. We became very excited at sighting two Cape Barren Geese that were wandering lazily along the beach. These protected animals are quite striking with their large blue, grey bodies and yellow beaks. They are very docile and let all of us get to within 5 metres or so to take pictures. It’s a good job for them that they are protected as they look like they would make a wonderful roast. They are probably roughly the same size as turkeys, but can fly really well. We needn’t have got so excited as we discovered dozens of them later in Darlington.

We had a relatively short walk to Darlington on our third day, although not without some excitement as Pam nearly trod on tiger snake that was sunning itself on the path. She noticed it just in time and it slithered quickly away into the bush. The tiger is one of 3 types of snakes found on Maria, all extremely poisonous. We had time on the way to spend a short time at the ‘painted’ caves. These are rock formations next to the beach with startling shapes and colourful stripes weathered by the sea.

Our base for our last night was an old colonial house beautifully restored to its former glory by Maria Island Walks, complete with a piano in the drawing room. We had a large room with a comfortable double bed and hot showers, sure bliss after our two nights in sleeping bags. Mags headed straight for the bath tub as she was all aches and pains by now and had limped in with gritted teeth. A few of us hardier souls decided to hike up Bishop and Clark, one of two hill walks available from Darlington. Naomi set off at breakneck speed as usual and, before long, the two of us were out of sight as we climbed steadily towards the peak. The more sensible walkers kept up a steady pace further back. The peak is 600 metres high and we inevitably slowed down as we trudged on. There’s a fair bit of clambering over rocks near the top, but we managed it without too much trouble and were joined at the top by Jenny and Rosie, the others having sensibly turned back to base. The views from the top are impressive, perched on the peak over a sheer drop of 600 metres to the sea below. We were feeling fairly pleased with ourselves when we were joined by a small group who were cycling around Tasmania. They had already cycled 70 kms that day and had hiked up here as an ‘extra’.

Darlington was initially established as a penal colony and later in the 19th century by the entrepreneurial Italian immigrant Diego Bernacchi as the centre of the island, and has been carefully preserved with interesting exhibitions in some of the many buildings left over from the previous settlements. One describes the story of William Smith O’Brian, a prominent Irish dissident who was exiled hereby the British for seeking Irish independence. Bernacchi seems to have been a man way ahead of his time. He tried wine making, tourism, and cement making on the island in a vain attempt to establish a prosperous settlement, but was doomed to failure.

On our last day we had the morning at leisure to explore Darlington before catching the ferry back around lunchtime. I spent a few hours strolling around town and decided to visit the nearby fossil cliff that, no surprise, is a cliff face of sedimentary rock containing countless tiny fossils from millions of years ago. It was these rocks that Bernacchi was turning into cement, but thankfully he left enough behind for scientists and tourists to examine.

The walk was a wonderful experience and we were lucky in having terrific guides and a convivial group comprising mostly of slightly more senior, ‘grey’ tourists. We were again the youngest, together with Naomi who is a nurse from Melbourne. She was great fun and a bit of a worry to all of us. At a rock pool near the painted caves she pointed to a Warratah Anemone and said to me, “Touch that Gary, it feels just like a pregnant cervix.” Given that I’m not likely to experience the real thing, or want to for that matter, I delved straight in.

Australia

Sydney
How yer goin’. We’re back in Straaylia.

We’ve been winding down seeing friends and family, and just trying to stay put for a while. We arrived in Sydney and were met at the airport by Mags’ sister Karen. We went straight to Ken’s place (Mags’ brother) and celebrated our arrival with a few bottles of crown lager. It was only 8 a.m but our body clocks were all over the place.

We spent a leisurely week at Kev and Jane’s place on the Port Hacking river doing not much at all; a quick swim in the morning was about all we managed. Their home is just like an, all in, holiday resort. You even get an early morning wake up call as Kev sets out for the bakery in the middle of the night. The new craze in chez Johnson is home brewing. Kev and his mate Gav brew up in Gav’s shed across the river. The brewing process naturally requires a few schooners to move things along, which seems to empty the keg alarmingly quickly. While we were there Kev was preparing for his 120th birthday party and decided to install a beer tap in the spare fridge. A fantastic labour saving device so he can now pour a beer without opening the fridge door – brilliant. We also moved the fridge to be conveniently located near to the deck for easy access. We did this while Jane was at work, and concocted a few “reasons” why it was a good idea to convince her. “No, it really does look good” was just about the best we could come up with. Not very persuasive, I admit. Anyway, Jane took one look at it on her return and we could just tell somehow that we weren’t going to win the argument.

Melbourne
After a restorative week of catching up and several long lunches we headed off for Melbourne to see our friends Helen and Barn, who are now living in Port Melbourne near where the ferry leaves for Tasmania every day. Melbourne is conveniently located close to two wine regions, Mornington Peninsula and the Yarra Valley. We thought it would be rude not to check them out so we all traipsed off for a quick tour and a crafty tasting or two. I think we all preferred the Yarra Valley of the two as we seemed to have better wine there, but that could just have been the particular wineries that we visited. Both regions specialise in Pinot Noir which is suited to the relatively cooler climate there. We had a very pleasant overnight stay in the Healsville hotel which has a superb restaurant attached, serving up the local produce with accompanying wine of course.

There seems to be massive 80’s revival here. Perhaps it’s the same at home. Disastrously, this even extends to Billy Joel whose songs seem to be played continuously on the radio. There was no escape. We popped into a bar at lunchtime to check on the Superbowl as, for once, the time difference was in our favour. (It’s on in the middle of the night at home). It was half time and, yes, Billy had that gig as well. At least this means that there’s less air time for Jimmy Barnes. I’ve only heard Khe Sanh once.

It’s amazing but nobody has mentioned the cricket to me (as if). Every time I open my mouth someone will have a few comments and some polite constructive criticism of the England team. I’m pretending to be Swiss with varying success. As it happened England were playing Australia in the first of the one day finals at the Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG), or the “G” as it is now known locally. The ground has been completely rebuilt since we were last here and it really is a magnificent stadium. So it appears that Australians can build Stadiums after all. Perhaps we should hold the FA cup final there.

Well, we thought we’d go as the England team have obviously been missing my helpful suggestions from the boundary rope. Prior to the match, commentators thought it was more likely that George Bush would apologise for invading Iraq than England beat Australia but, low and behold, cobber, England did win. C’mon W, what about that apology?

We also discovered another activity that has been banned in the land of the “Not allowed” – the Mexican wave. The cricket authorities in their unparalleled wisdom had decided to forbid the pastime of all bored cricket fans around the world for safety reasons. In fairness to the ACB, some idiots had been apparently throwing heavy objects into the air as they threw their arms up and a few people have been injured. But anyway, as anybody could have predicted, banning the wave has only made it more popular. Also “not allowed” at the ground is proper alcohol, just mid strength beer, and some sickly alcopops (also mid strength). I scoured the bars in a vain attempt to purchase a glass of wine for Mags. At one I was advised that if I wanted a “drink for a lady”, that I should try one of the alcopops. Good to know that not all Australian stereotypes are dead yet.

Also new since we last visited and popular here is Wagyu beef, which is reared in the same way as Kobe beef, principally for export to Japan. We had a fantastic rib of Wagyu beef at Vue de Monde, one of Melbourne’s premier restaurants. It was served without a steak knife, which I initially though was odd, but there’s no need as the meat just melts in your mouth. Just superb, I just hope we start farming it back in the U.K.

As usual, the food is just fantastic in Oz. Melbourne is particularly blessed being so close to some of the best faming land in the country. There are two marvellous markets, Victoria and South Melbourne where small stall holders sell all the wonderful local produce, and to us, at incredibly low prices. People here just east like kings the whole time.

After all this food, we thought we’d better do some exercise as our next stop was Tasmania, and we were planning on doing a lot of hiking there. We set off for a seaside jaunt along the coastal path from Port Melbourne to Brighton, passing through St. Kilda. Somehow, we both managed to damage our Achilles tendons which was strange as neither of us had any problems before. The only reason we can think of is that we were wearing our hiking boots on a concrete path. So, next day, we could hardly walk which wasn’t the greatest preparation in the world.

Vintage Blog - Australia 2000

Part 1, 7^th December 2000

 

 

I graciously let Mags do the packing again. Well, I organised the car to the airport. Glided to the airport in style in a new Mercedes S series (I think). Anyway, the driver was obviously delighted by his new machine. It had one of those navigation systems that tells you the way. "Second left in 100 yards", "Turn right now please" - that kind of thing. We had this the whole way even though the guy knew the way himself. I suppose we could have asked him to turn it off but he was so pleased with it we didn't have the heart.

 

Arrived at Heathrow just in time for a quick drink before departure. Flight was OK. Two dodgy films, more drink, food, read, more food, arrived. No sleep though.

 

Procured a taxi into Kuala Lumpar city centre and arrived at the Hilton, KL at around 9:00 a.m. We decided to lie down on the bed to rest for a few minutes and promptly both fell soundly asleep and didn't wake up till 4 p.m. So much for the acclimatization plan.

 

Restored back to health, we set out to explore. The obvious place to head for is the Petronis Towers, the tallest building in the world. It really is impressive with its eighty odd floors dominating the skyline from every vantage point. There's a large shopping complex next to it that we wandered around for a while. It has everything from Prada to Marks and Spencers (McDonalds coming soon) - so we soon got bored. We could have been in Croydon. Anyway, a bit of shopping is thirsty work so we left in search of refreshment.

 

It's actually quite difficult to find a bar in KL as most watering holes seem to be in hotels. Still, we managed in the end and found a friendly place serving ice cold beers. After a few tigers we asked the barman to recommend somewhere good to sample the local cuisine (which was a little cheeky as the place was also a restaurant, but there was no-one eating so it didn't look too promising.) He recommended the concorde hotel, but after another couple of beers changed his mind and pointed us to another local establishment. We were clearly now too pissed for the concorde.

 

This turned out to be excellent. First thing that impressed was the scale of the place. It was huge. It must have had at least 200 covers. And it was busy. They had to check to see if they had room for 2 more. The food was terrific. Malaysian eat as much as you can buffet with all manner of indescribable dishes that you're glad that you don't know what the ingredients are. The highlight though was the entertainment which was so spectacularly bad that it was unmissable. A curtain at one end of the room slowly parted to reveal a group of 6 to eight dancers magnificently attired in every imaginable colour and all swaying haphazardly to local music provided by the resident band in the corner. This continued for remainder of the evening with occasional solo performances by one dancer or other. At the end of this, the customers were invited to pose with the dancers for souvenir photos. I leapt up to seize the opportunity but was sadly out maneuvered by a group of Japanese tourists who had spontaneously organised some kind never ending, extended family, photo shoot - bless 'em.

 

Sleeping took up most of day 2 but Mags did manage a few laps of the hotel pool. I sat there and watched next to the ubiquitous group of Germans. Later we had another fabulous meal in a seafood restaurant called Eden village. You chose your live lobster from the pot, and they showed it to you before cooking it. Mags had three gigantic prawns that looked like they'd strayed too close to a French nuclear test. Very tasty though.

 

We retired to the hotel bar for a nightcap where we encountered our first Aussies of the trip. These were two blokes from Perth engaged in a game of darts. Their problem was that they didn't know the rules although they'd worked out that you throw the pointy things in the vague direction of the board. I immediately spotted an opportunity to reclaim the Ashes for England and challenged them to a game. We made it 101 so that we might finish before our flight the next day. We finally did finish the game (I did win) but only after declaring "next double wins" as we were all so hopeless. By the end we had managed to consume a fair few drinks and learnt that Perth is the best place on earth and that it should declare itself an independent republic separate from the rest of Australia. Scary.

 

Darwin and Kakadu next....

 

 

Part 2, 20^th December 2000

ITS HOT !!!

Arrived in Darwin at 5:30 a.m. and it was 28 degrees Celsius and the sun hadn’t risen yet.

Set off early the next day for our 4 day tour of Kakadu national park, Katherine Gorge, and Litchfield national park. Our group was small and friendly; a young Swedish couple, one German school kid, one English girl from surrey; so yes we were the oldest. Well, Mags was anyway. Our guide Tony was a cross between bush tucker man and David Boon. He was extremely knowledgeable about the wildlife and local aboriginal culture. He knew all the plants and animals by three names - Latin, aboriginal and common name, and he was a good laugh too. The thing was that he looked like David Boon - 5 4 tall, long droopy moustache, enormous beer belly.

Our first stop was a magical place called Ubirr in Kakadu. We followed a path trough some rocks, many of which had aboriginal paintings. Although most of the art was primitive, some of it was 60,000 years old. We also ate our first ant. Tony found a nest of tree ants along the way and proceeded to eat a couple. They have a green, bulbous bottom. The idea is to break off the bottom and eat that. It tasted a little sharp, like an unripe apple, but not unpleasant. They are very small, so you’d have to eat a lot if you were hungry. Apparently, the aborigines squeeze the nest and snort them as a remedy for cold and flu. At the end of the walk we climbed a rocky outcrop to be rewarded with a fantastic, 360 degree view over flood plains, forests and rocky escarpments. You could see for miles without any evidence of human existence visible. It was like going back in time - I wouldn’t have been surprised to see dinosaurs roaming the plains. In fact, we did get to see some dinosaurs later.

Day 2 was spent mostly in Katherine Gorge. An early morning helicopter flight over the gorge was followed by a cruise up through two of the canyons. The flight was good fun, although a little scary as the chopper had no doors, so every time we banked it felt like you were about to fall out. Katherine gorge is another ancient place made up of a series of 13 individual canyons separated by rapids that have been carved out over zillions of years by the Katherine River. Lots of crocs in the water so definitely no swimming.

The rest of the time we spent traveling between various places of interest including an aboriginal cultural centre and several swimming pools and water falls. All the places for swimming were allegedly safe, but one in particular had fresh water crocodiles that are supposed to be harmless to humans unless provoked. Just a quick dip was sufficient in that pool. The whole place is beautiful with all sorts of wildlife; birds of prey, storks, lizards, wallabies and so on. The light was amazing. It seemed to make everything more real. Like suddenly watching DVD after being used to betamax for years.

Kakadu national park is the size of Switzerland, so there was a fair bit of traveling in the 4WD to do. This was OK as the roads were fine except that we had to endure the guide’s taste in music. Tony is a Vietnam war veteran and he’s stuck in the 70s in musical terms. At least Mags knew all the words for the sing along in the back.

The dinosaurs I referred to are the reptiles that have survived unchanged since pre-historic times. The frill necked lizard was particularly striking. Bush tucker man stopped the car suddenly at one point, leapt into the bush and re-emerged holding one of these creatures. It has a frill around its neck that it puffs out to warn off predators. Just like the one in Jurassic park that does for the computer nerd, except that this one is only about 8 inches high and doesn’t spit, although its bite can apparently break your finger.

We spent the last night in Litchfield national park at this camp in the middle of the middle of nowhere with no electricity. For the previous 2 nights, Mags and me had had air-conditioned rooms a short walk away from the camp. The others had to bed down in tents around the campfire, but we must have been on the luxury option. Anyway, on the last night there was no separate room for the oldies so we had to sleep in a semi-permanent tent in the middle of the bush with all sorts of unwelcome bugs and generally scary things. I took one look at this when we arrived and decided that we were going to need a lot of alcohol over dinner. This did the trick and I managed to get a decent sleep although Mags tells me that I sat bolt upright at one point and shouted What the F**! was that, and then fell immediately back to sleep.

Left Darwin for Uluru (Ayres Rock) via Alice Springs. It was raining when we arrived which was a bit of a surprise as the red centre receives about the same rainfall in a year as England does in 5 minutes. Immediately joined a coach tour to visit Kata Tjuta (the Olgas) and then experience sun set over Uluru. Both places were magnificent although somewhat spoiled by the other tourists. There were crowds of people. Kids screaming, hoards of Japanese taking photos of everything, a group of Italians trying to get a signal on their mobile phones. (they failed thankfully, but it can’t be long before it’s possible). The sunset wasn’t all it is cracked up to be because it was overcast. People were actually complaining to the tour guide about this as if he could change the weather. The second day was much better although it started at 3:30 a.m. as we had decided to see the sun rise over Uluru. This time, the sky was clear and we saw the rising sun cause the rock to dramatically change colour. The rest of the morning was meant to be spent climbing the rock and then touring around it on the coach. We’d had enough of the crowds by now and decided to walk around it instead. This is a 10km walk so it was a major undertaking for us but it was completely flat so it was fairly easy. There was hardly anyone else and we were able to feel the peace and tranquility that surrounds the place, and the qualities that must have made it such a draw for the aborigines. We were also able to see a number of caves, water holes, and features that aren’t visible from afar.

Next stop Adelaide via the Ghan train from Alice Springs.

Gary and Mags

Part 3, 15^th January 2001

Departed from Alice Springs on the Ghan train to Adelaide, so called in honor of the Afghans who first ran this route with camel trains. The Australians have naturally shortened this to Ghan. The train takes about twelve hours overnight to cover the distance from the centre to Adelaide near the south coast, cutting a nearly perfectly straight line through desert.

The desert wasn’t quite as expected. I anticipated rolling sand dunes, snakes, scorpions, Peter OTool, Omar Shariff, and David Attenborough. There is actually quite a lot of vegetation, and with the recent rain, it looked quite green. Still, it’s not the kind of place that you would want to be stranded in.

The train was filled with mad people, most of them late middle aged to elderly English women who seem to have spent the last 50 years sipping gin and tonics in some outpost of the Empire, and haven’t yet come to terms with the fact that the British Empire disintegrated ions ago. You know, the kind of women who laugh haughtily at everything that is said to them before regaling you with tales from Burma, Kenya (pronounced Keeeynya) or Timbuktu before the natives took over. The all had accents that you only ever hear now in 50s black and white pinewood studio films starring Alistair Sim. They fitted in so perfectly with the old worldly feel of the train that I started to think that everyone else had been planted by the train operator, and we were the only real paying customers.

There’s not much to do in on the train except watch the beautiful scenery, drink and chat to the mad people in the bar (G&Ts or bubbly of course), eat in the dining car, or relax in our cabin. There’s lots of detail for the train buffs like how much the engine weighs, its horsepower, how many carriages and so on; none of which I can remember. It really is a great way to travel, and we arrived in Adelaide in the morning fully relaxed and rearing to go.

It just so happened that the 3rd test match between Australia and The West Indies was in progress at the Adelaide oval on the day we arrived. Our taxi driver took us to the ground just to see if there were any tickets left, which there were, so we spent our first day in South Australia watching this awesome Aussie team hammer the hapless West Indians yet again. Brain Lara managed to score 180 odd, but he still couldn’t save them. I’ve heard reports that the press back home are getting exited about England regaining the ashes in the summer now that we’ve won a few games. There’s nothing Id like more, but I can’t see us beating this Australian side unless we nobble the Waugh twins or include a couple of Indian bookmakers in our starting eleven. At the hotel Mags discovered that we were staying at the same place as the Australian team. She had to leave the swimming pool when the whole team crashed in after securing their umpteenth test win on the trot. Apparently, she didn’t want to distract them from their celebrations.

55 kms north east of Adelaide is the famous Barossa Valley, where some of Australia’s best wines are produced. Mags and I had heard about this wine stuff, and being not very experienced in its appeal, thought that wed better check it out for ourselves first hand. We were booked on a two day tour which started with a short train trip into the valley. The train is billed as The wine train which is what attracted us to the tour back in England. Our carriage did indeed have a bar with wines available, but as it was only 8:30 a.m. we had coffee instead. We found out that the line is used by only two trains; our wine train and a rock train, which carried stone extracted from a quarry in the hills. I wondered whether all Australian trains had names, and what would happen if we applied the same logic back home.

German immigrants who were escaping religious persecution originally settled the Barossa valley in 1842. One of them had the bright idea of planting vines and started making wine. Although until fairly recently most of the wine was fortified in the style of Sherry or Port, as there was no market for table wine in Australia until the seventies. Barossa, we were told, is actually a mis-spelling of Barrosa, which is a sherry region in Spain. The region includes famous names like Yalumba, Peter Lehmann, and Penfold, mixed together with scores of smaller wineries that don’t export. We disembarked from the train and boarded a coach with about 20 or so other people for a wine tasting tour. Most of the wineries have a selection of their range on offer for tasting all free of charge. The tasting is not pretentious at all, and its quite acceptable to drink all of the generous measures being offered, which is of course what we did. All the wines from the latest year are available to buy, the older vintages often being sold out, as the wineries don’t hold stock if they can help it. There is no pressure to purchase anything and all the staff we encountered were very friendly and informative.

We had a few days back in Adelaide before heading off for Sydney, but it was so hot that we didn’t do much except dive from one air-conditioned bar to another. It was 41 degrees C, which is easily the highest temperature I’ve experienced. It really felt like being inside an oven, and it was hard to accept that the sun alone was causing the heat. We managed a short walk in one of the parks that surround the city, adjacent to the river that provides the city’s water supply but soon had to retreat in search of refreshment. We therefore resigned ourselves to a bit of research into the modern Aussie pub scene. Certainly pubs have changed since I was last in Australia six years ago. They are the now centre of a nationwide gambling epidemic. Every pub and hotel is loaded with the maximum permitted number of poker machines or pokies as they are known. People sit in front of these machines for hours on end pouring in dollar after dollar. Apparently, they make a fortune for both the government and the landlord, but it certainly changes the character of many pubs. The places we preferred were the ones that had separate gambling rooms so that the serious business of beer research could be carried out in peace. At least the beer hasn’t changed - still ice cold. My personal favourite from South Australia was Coopers sparkling Ale, but be careful if you get the chance because it is a tad strong.

Next stop Sydney for a traditional Christmas with all the trimmings.

Part 4, 8^th February 2001

We’ve finally managed to get a bit of colour. A shade that paint manufacturers would probably describe as blushed white.

Landed in Sydney in time for a traditional Aussie Christmas. We’re staying at Karen’s (Mags sister) place in Waterfall which is on the outskirts of Sydney. Well actually, it’s about as close to Sydney as Birmingham is to London. However, it’s on the edge of the national park that is very beautiful - bush and wildlife everywhere. Unfortunately, some of the wildlife seems to like Karen’s place. On our first morning here, Mags threw back the bed sheets after I’d got up and discovered a huge squashed spider where I’d been sleeping. This thing had hairy arms, biceps and a body as large as Giant Haystacks. We figured that it must have tried to bite me in my slumber and died of alcohol poisoning. I discovered later that it was a Huntsman - a harmless variety, but scary nevertheless. We’d survived the wild outback in the Northern Territory only to find that Sydney is far more dangerous.

Some of the other creatures attracted to Chez Kazza are great to look at but a bit noisy. Every morning at daybreak, a dozen or so white cockatoos gather in the tree outside our bedroom. These birds can caw for Australia, and there’s no hope of any sleep once they start. During the night, the possums get to work on Karen’s corrugated roof. They make a noise akin to a very heavy, inept cat burglar.

Christmas dinner was a family affair with Karen and her three teenage sons. I got the cooking duties, and we feasted on turkey, ham and all the trimmings with a very nice bottle of red wine that wed bought in the Barossa.

New Years Eve was a bit special as we spent it at Garden Island watching the fireworks over the harbour. Mags’ friend Felicity’s dad works at the Naval base there and was able to get us in to the compound. The Navy sell a limited number of tickets every year to raise money for charity. We had a clear view over the harbour towards the Opera House and the Old Coat Hanger so we had a fantastic view of the two spectacular fireworks displays. The locals are getting a bit blasé about these displays after the Olympics, but we thought they were fantastic.

Although most of time in Sydney has been spent catching up with family and friends, we have managed to have the odd adventure.

Mags siblings bought us a harbour bridge climb for Christmas. The idea is to climb to the top of the bridge in a small group following a guide. First of all we underwent some basic training. We had to undergo a breath test (yes we passed) and answer a few questions such as Is anyone feeling depressed?. We were kitted out in very fashionable grey overalls with no pockets so that nothing loose can be brought along, and subsequently drop onto the traffic below. We climbed over a bridge simulation before heading off for the real thing. It’s a short walk from the training area to the bridge. Along the way we passed some American tourists who spontaneously burst into laughter when they saw us. When Americans start laughing at your dress sense you know you’re in trouble. The climb itself is fairly easy. There are wide paths and solid steps all the way. There are a few ladders to negotiate about half way up but small beer to intrepid explorers like Mags and me. The views really are fantastic all the way up and at the top there are 360 degree views of all Sydney, including the Olympic stadium in the distance.

At around this time we met up with Helen, a friend of ours who had come over from London for a few weeks holiday. Another friend Kevin took the three of us and a few of his mates off to watch a yacht race on the harbour. Now if you saw any of the sailing in the Olympics, you might think that yacht racing is as about as exiting as David Beckam’s personality. How wrong you’d be. We started at the clubhouse with a few beers and a delicious seafood lunch. We then all embarked on the club’s boat to follow the race. The boat follows the yachts around the course with a running commentary so that us land lubbers can work out who is winning. There’s a bookie to take bets and of course a bar. The race was really exiting at the end as it was very close. Helen and I backed a yacht called Great Britain, which lost naturally. Kev picked the winner (bastard). We’d all managed a few stubbies by the end so we disembarked for the bar to discuss the finer points of sailing. Not sure how the day ended up after this, but we managed to get back to Waterfall somehow.

Queensland next where apparently everyone is a banana bender (whatever that means).

Gary and Mags.

Part 5, 10^th February 2001

First stop in Queensland was Brisbane to catch up with our friends Lynette and also Karen and Malcolm. We took an immediate liking to Brisy when Lynette took us to a pub on Thursday night where the drinks were free for the first hour.

We spent Australia day with Karen and Malcolm traveling up and down the river on a river cat. A day pass costs around 8$ so its a good way to get around the city. Brisbane’s a compact city with lots of modern buildings, good roads and no traffic. We weren’t expecting much so we were pleasantly surprised. We stopped off at the south bank and visited the Queensland Art Gallery where we whiled away a few hours viewing a superb exhibition of an Australian Artist called Lin Onus. His father was Aborigine and his mother was Scottish which must have made him a fairly unique person. He mixed aborigine art with western art styles to great effect. He used his talent to draw attention to aboriginal issues and many of his works were political. Well worth a visit if you get the chance.

The weather was a bit hot to say the least, even for Brisbane, so we decided to head for cooler climes. The next day Lynette took us to the sunshine coast where we had lunch in a seaside caf catching the breeze and generally chilling out literally.

On our final day in Queensland we set off to visit Mags cousin Kathleen and her young family in the country. We took a quick detour on the way to visit Surfers Paradise on the Gold Coast. Well, it has to be done. Surfers doesn’t disappoint with skyscraper hotels hugging the beach, most of them filled with Japanese tourists (apparently, they own most of this part of Australia). The beach itself is vast and seems to stretch forever. We arrived in the middle of an exhibition of women’s beach volleyball but, just as I was settling in for the afternoon, Mags dragged me away to do some shopping.

Kathleen and Bill have this huge block of land which is paradise for kids with a dam stocked with fish, a large pool, and a cricket pitch. The only thing to do was to act like 5 year olds so we had a great time. I caught 3 fish. You should have seen the one that got away. We played cricket where the real kids ran us ragged, and spent the remainder of the time messing around in the pool.

From Brisbane we flew up to Orpheus Island that is a tiny speck on the Great Barrier Reef between Townsville and Cairns. We flew in via Cairns on a sea plane which was new to both of us. There were 4 passengers. Us and 2 staff and we were treated to a spectacular flight along the coast over islands and reefs. I was expecting a rough landing but it was very smooth - much better than landing on the ground. It was the quiet season in the resort and when we arrived there were only six other guests. There were never more than ten while we stayed. As there are forty staff we certainly got some attentive service. On our first full day we set off in a small motorised boat to find a secluded beach and do some snorkeling. We were given a huge picnic of seafood, fruit, cold meats and cheese to keep us going together with a bottle of wine and plenty of water. Things started off OK as we leisurely headed off towards our destination at Yankee point. When we arrived we nearly capsized the boat as we both tried to disembark from the front at the

same time. I dropped my sunglasses overboard in the panic and had to dive to the bottom to retrieve them. Anyway, we somehow managed to tie the boat to the jetty and set up camp under the handy shade that’s provided. We set off to do a bit of snorkeling before lunch and initially had a great time swimming with the fish that come in all shapes and sizes and spectacular colours. We were just about to get out when Mags yelled out that a jellyfish had stung her. I applied lots of vinegar and then ice as instructed in our first aid kit. Initially, this seemed to do the trick as the swelling went down. Unfortunately, it was to return later and put a bit of a downer on our visit. Poor Mags had large red stripes across her legs for the next 2 weeks.

Mags didn’t see the jellyfish, but we saw a blue bottle float past a few minutes later so it was probably one of those. They’re not dangerous, but can give you an unpleasant sting. Later, back at the resort, the experts thought that Mags had had an allergic reaction that made it worse. Anyway, we weren’t going to let a jellyfish spoil our day so we tucked into lunch (the wine helped ease Mags pain a lot). While we were lunching a couple of guys arrived from the mainland on a fishing trip. They were briefly stopping before heading further out. One of the guys threw a line out while they were there and after a few minutes pulled out a two foot reef shark from the same place as we’d been swimming! Actually, they’re harmless to humans but all the same, you wouldn’t choose to swim with one.

We spent the rest of our stay generally been pampered by the staff and eating loads. The resort is all inclusive so you get three meals a day including a breakfast where there is no menu; you just ask for whatever you want. The food was superb and we had to do lots of swimming (in the pool) to make sure we didn’t put too much weight on. We did one more snorkeling trip with the other guests on our last day to see the giant clams. There are hundreds of them just off the island and there is a research station there to study them. This was terrific and there were no mishaps. Mags showed off her legs to the new guests and scared them senseless.

Back to Sydney next and then off on the road to Melbourne.

Gary and Mags.

Part 6, 24^th February 2001

Set off from Sydney on the 11th of Feb in Fliss new car with Fliss and me sharing the driving. We allowed 7 days to reach Melbourne, but with Mags navigating it could be touch and go. The idea was to tour through NSW and Victoria and spend a couple of days in Melbourne before heading off for Perth.

We set off to the Snowy Mountains first of all. These are Australia’s highest mountains, and home to the skiing resorts in winter.

We spent our first night at a small place overlooking a beautiful lake before setting off for Thredbo which is a small tourist town at the foot of Mt Kosciuszko. (pronounced Kozzy-Oz-Co). This is Australia’s tallest mountain at 2228 metres. To get to the top there are two choices. One - walk. Two - Take the chair lift and walk a bit. Guess which choice we made. At the top of the lift there is a caf where Fliss decided to stay with a coffee and do some sketching, leaving the famous Chadwick explorers to conquer the peak. The walk to the top is easy going on a path all the way, so there’s no need for Edmund Hilary style ropes, pulleys, ice picks and Sherpas. The temperature during the walk was around 13 degrees which compared with 27 degrees at the foot of the lift, and it was blowing a gale, so we had to wrap up warm. We were very fortunate to have clear blue skies the whole time, which made the views magnificent. The area is rare in Australia as it is the only Alpine region where Alpine flowers are found and the ubiquitous gum tree doesn’t grow. Apparently, it can’t survive past 1800 metres. There were some flowers in bloom on route, but they mostly looked like daisies to me. Although I’m sure they cause much excitement amongst Alpine flower enthusiasts. The walk to the top was approximately 7 kilometres which we managed without too many seizures. At the peak I Couldn’t help thinking that an Englishman had finally got on top of Australia. Back at the caf we had a well deserved lunch of some tomato,

basil and garlic soup that was fabulous. It was a good example of the high standard of food throughout Australia almost without exception. You’d be lucky to get a 3 day old, plastic cheese sandwich in a similar place in England (if one existed).

We moved away from the mountains and NSW into Victoria and Ned Kelly country. For those of you who don’t know, Ned Kelly is a famous Bush Ranger who robbed banks and bailed up people about 150 years ago. He’s also renowned for killing policemen who seem to have been on an all time low in the popularity stakes at the time. He was finally caught and hung but his escapades had made him into a popular folk hero. His popularity amongst Australians seems undiminished today. We headed first for Beechworth where Ned spent a fair deal of time in the courthouse there.  The courthouse is still standing in its original form and is open to tourists. You can visit the holding cells, the judges chambers, and the jury room. I stood in the dock where Mags passed sentence on me from the Judges chair.  I was given a lifetime of hard marriage. They sentenced and hung 12 people in Beechworth, but Kelly wasn’t amongst them. They couldn’t find a jury that would convict him locally so that they had to send him for trial in Melbourne.

Beechworth also has a museum that houses a whole variety of objects including a collection of aboriginal artifacts and a huge assortment of stuffed wildlife. There’s even a specimen of a Tasmanian Tiger that is now extinct. But the Kelly exhibition interested me the most. There are plenty of photographs of Kelly, his family and his gang and of the surrounding towns that I found fascinating. They have his death mask there which is particularly interesting. It was common practice at the time to take a molding of the dead mans face immediately after he was hung. You can even see where the rope had broken his neck.

Beechworth is a beautifully preserved town with lots of original Victorian features in the buildings and is a great place to spend some time.

We moved on from Beechworth to Kellys hometown, Glenrowen. Nowadays, it is little more than a tourist centre for Kelly. However, there is a giant statue of Ned complete with body armor that is worth the trip by itself. There’s also a small museum with more photographs and a reconstruction of the Kelly home that is well done. It gives some appreciation of the incredibly hard life that people endured then, even though it was only 150 years ago.

We left the Kellys behind and headed off in search of gold. Gold was discovered in Victoria in around the 1860s and started a boom for the state.

Our first stop was Maldon, a small, well preserved mining town. Amongst the attractions are an old mine tour and a steam train ride. The mine was closed and the train wasn’t running so we decided to do a walking tour of the town. We picked up an information sheet from the tourist centre and diligently followed the map. The main points of interest were people’s homes that still had the intricate iron work on the verandahs that was the norm in Victorian days. There were also an extraordinary number of churches for such a small place. We must have passed around 15 in our 20 minute walk. At one point we stumbled across two identical Baptist churches not 50 yards apart from each other. The leaflet informed us that after the first church was built there had been a rift, the congregation had split and a second church built. One was the English Baptists and the other the Welsh Baptists.

Next stop was Ballarat. A much larger town today, and the centre of mining in the area previously. We decided to visit Sovereign Hill that is a re-creation of an old mining town and a purpose built tourist attraction. There’s a visitor centre that provides some history and background to gold mining and a short film to watch before entering the town. All the staff are in costume and the buildings look authentic. There’s a creek where you can pan for gold, a mine that you can walk through which includes some parts of an original mine. The whole place is very well done and not too Disney. Once a day they smelt some gold and pour it back into an ingot. This really was quite spectacular as liquid gold gives off a stunning luminance. There’s also a small walking tour through a copy of a mine where you are told the story of the welcome nugget. This was a gold nugget weighing 69 kilograms that was found by one lucky chap. It was called “Welcome” as the gold yield had started to decline prior to its discovery. This is the second largest nugget ever discovered in the World. At the end of this tour there is a life-size and lifelike hologram re-enacting the discovery. Although I’m sure that the actual language used during the find might have been a bit more colourful. There’s also a model of the nugget to show how large it would have looked. The real object was sent to London and turned into gold sovereigns.

We left the gold fields in search of the coast. Driving cross-country across Victoria is a real pleasure as there’s no traffic to speak of and the roads are straight. The scenery is a tad monotonous though as the whole state seems to be one giant, flat wheat field interspersed with cattle farms and of course wineries. At one point we were zooming along when we saw a sign for Yellowglen, that famous maker of Aussie bubbles. I had to do an emergency stop as our navigator decided it was too good an opportunity to miss. There was a quick tasting for the non-drivers and we picked up a couple of bottles for later.

The Victorian coast is famous for the giant limestone pillars that have formed along its shoreline. These are caused by sea erosion and make for spectacular scenery. The most famous of these is the twelve apostles, although there are only 10 left now as two have fallen into the sea. One structure further along the coast is named London Bridge as the sea had eroded two arches through a ridge of rock so making the structure look like a bridge. There’s only one arch left now as the other one collapsed into the sea. Two people were on the other arch at the time and had to be rescued by helicopter. The whole coast is treacherous to shipping as the cold seas from the Antarctic run unhindered until they meet mainland Australia here, and there’s lots of tales of shipwrecks. The weather was relatively calm during our visit so we didn’t get to witness the huge waves crashing into the rocks. It was rough enough all the same and you wouldn’t contemplate swimming there. Some parts of the coast are popular with surfers, but then surfers are all mad.

We headed along the great ocean road to Melbourne on the last leg of our trip. After the twelve apostles the road hugs the shore and the drive is very spectacular and memorable.

We arrived in Melbourne a bit worn out from our travels and ready for a rest. We had a bit of trouble finding accommodation as there was some air show on and the hotels were a bit busy. We finally settled on a Japanese run apartment style dwelling in the middle of China town. We had a two room apartment complete with Japanese style screens between the rooms and a shower that Danny Devito would have had to duck under to get his head wet. The only real problem was that there was a Karaoke bar next door and there were some terrible sounds drifting into our room late each night. This of course wouldn’t have bothered the other guests who would have been in the bar anyway.

We didn’t do much in Melbourne except visit the Melbourne Cricket Ground. We joined a tour given by a very elderly lady who had witnessed the Melbourne Olympics in the stadium. We were allowed into the players changing rooms for both cricket and football. They were surprisingly basic. Especially for the footballers who seemed to have little more that a large decrepit room with a few benches and treatment tables. The highlight was the Members stand where there is long room and a museum all full of old photos of the cricketing greats and signed bats and balls. The MCG also houses the Aussie cricket hall of fame. There are displays on all the players who have been voted in so far including the great man himself, Don Bradman. Mags got a little over exited at the Dennis Lillie display, but I managed to prise her away in the end.

We’re in Perth at the moment just back from our Epic Western Australia tour, but Ill write more about that in a few days.

G’day for now.

Gary and Mags.

Part 7, 20^th March 2001

We said goodbye to Fliss at Melbourne airport and flew to Perth. Four hours later we arrived in Western Australia. We had to wind our watches forward three hours and we were still in the same country. Big place this Australia.

I was desperately tired after the flight due in part to our friendly Karaoke singers keeping me awake.  I really wanted one of those New York cab drivers who don’t speak English, so there’s no chance of any conversation at all and I could catch up on some sleep. Instead, we got this extremely friendly and talkative lady who couldn’t wait to tell us all about Western Australia. Apparently it’s twenty times larger than the U.K. – a fact that she seemed to take great pride in as if she’d stretched the state herself. There were lots of new buildings; she informed us. In particular, a road bridge had just been completed where the engineers worked all night to finish it – imagine that! She just had to tell us about her stressful day yesterday when the previous driver had brought the cab in dirty, so she had to wash it, and then the credit card machine had run out of paper on the same day. If this is stress Perth style, then I thought we might be able to handle things without losing too much hair. Mercifully, the Airport is close to the city and we were at our hotel before long.

Early the next day we joined the tour that we had booked back in the U.K. We had signed up for a 5 day four wheel drive adventure around the state so we were expecting a long wheel base land rover or similar with Crocodile Dundee in the driving seat. We actually ended up with a 24 seater coach, that supposedly had 4 wheel drive. Although initially disappointed, this turned out to be a good vehicle for touring as we ended up on the coach for hours on end and a smaller vehicle wouldn’t have been as comfortable.

We spent the whole of the first day driving north with the occasional pit stop for the loo, lunch etc. On day 2 we rose early and headed off for Monkey Mia. This is a beautiful little bay that is famous for its dolphins. They started coming close to the shore when fishing boats would throw unwanted scraps over the side when landing their catch. Nowadays, the fishing has stopped but the dolphins still come to be fed by the public who just want to get close to them. Today, the feeding is strictly controlled by park rangers who make sure that the dolphins are not overfed or harmed in any way. Years earlier, before the tourists arrived in numbers, people were able to swim with the dolphins. Unfortunately, some people started doing stupid things and so the park rangers were brought in to bring order. Still, they do come up very close in water that is only knee deep, and it’s quite an experience.

In the afternoon we stopped at Shell Beach. No prizes for guessing that it is made up entirely of shells and not sand. It’s a vast place and totally deserted. The shells are small and are only clearly identifiable close up. The illusion is of an almost impossibly white, beautiful sandy beach. The shells are pure limestone of course and some limited mining is carried out. The authorities have calculated that the mining is sustainable as new shells are constantly being deposited on the beach today.

We also stopped briefly at another beach that is home to Stromatolites, believed by scientists to be the first living creatures on earth – even older than the Queen Mum. These simple dark, sponge like organisms consume carbon dioxide, expelling oxygen in the process and so created the atmosphere by which more complex life forms could develop. Unfortunately for these early earth dwellers, their descendants soon started to pray on them, and so they quickly became extinct from the rest of the world ions ago. In fact, marine biologists thought that they were extinct until they were discovered in the shallows of this remote beach in the 1960s. Apparently, this particular bay is too salty for any other organism to live, and so the Stromatolites have survived unchanged till the present day.

We finished day 2 at a sheep station at what must have been one of the remotest places on Earth. Once we reached the station we had to travel a further 45 minutes along a dirt track to the farmhouses. Apparently, a number of farms supplement their income by providing basic accommodation to tourists – and I mean basic. When we finally reached the entrance, I noticed that their ‘rooms’ were being advertised at $5 per night or $25 per week. Thus, we lost all hope of room service. The accommodation consisted of a row of prefabricated cells topped with corrugated iron. There were beds of a sort; more like cardboard mattresses raised a few inches off the floor, and a fly screen over the hole in the wall that served as a window. This was to be our home for the next 2 nights.

Over dinner we started to get to know the other people on the tour. We were a fairly mixed bunch - 7 English, 4 Germans, 3 Singaporeans, 2 Austrians, 1 Scot, 1 Hungarian, 2 Australians (including Mags), 1 Swiss and 1 Welsh. Initially we split into 3 separate groups - Brits, German speakers (including the Austrians and the Swiss), and the Singaporeans. After a few glasses of wine, Mags trotted off to the German table to engage them in some fair dinkum Aussie conversation. Before we knew it we were playing charades using a German to Australian phrase book. I had to mime “Whingeing Pom” so I just did my Kim Hughes / Bob Hawke impression.

Generally, they were a nice bunch of people expect for the Welsh lady who was bonkers. She had totally white hair, wore scary earrings, and possessed a near spherical body. She also had this strange way of communicating. Instead of engaging you in conversation, she would wander into your vicinity and start talking – loudly. People could never work out to whom she was talking, and so would nod and smile politely. I tried ignoring her completely on one occasion but this didn’t seem to deter her. She just carried on regardless.

Back in our cell, we surprisingly managed a fair amount of sleep. At around 4 a.m. I decided that I needed to visit the loo. The toilet block was around 50 metres away. I managed to find the light switch although I wished I hadn’t. The screen was covered with insects of all shapes and sizes with giant moths crashing into it every second or so. I wasn’t sure that I’d make the distance to the loo without being stripped to the bone by ravenous crawlies, so I crossed my legs and waited until dawn.

The place did have one redeeming feature and that was the night sky that was awesome as there is no light pollution whatsoever. We turned off all the lights after dinner and were treated to a fantastic sight of the milky way and all manner of constellations clearly visible. Even I could make out Mars, Saturn, Jupiter, Orion’s belt, and the space station. Apparently, the constellations appear upside down when compared to the view from the Northern hemisphere. Having never seen a star in London, I had no reference point to confirm this.

Day 3 was a highlight as we spent only a few hours on the coach. We spent the day at Coral Bay by Ningaloo reef. The coral reef lies only a few hundred metres from the beach and so is easily accessible. We spent the morning chugging around the reef aboard a glass-bottomed boat, with a couple of hours snorkeling thrown in. The coral and sea life were spectacular, though probably not as varied as the barrier reef. It wasn’t very deep so we could see everything just snorkeling. We spent the afternoon just lazing around on the beach and swimming when we were too hot, just glad to be motionless for a while.

With the huge distances between places of interest, the tour company had obviously dredged the barrel to find places that would keep us entertained during our short breaks off the coach. One such place was a banana plantation where we were invited to join the proprietor in a guided walk. This consisted of a brief stroll between the plants with the silence broken occasionally by our host pointing to a bunch of bananas and declaring, “bunch of bananas”. This was a running gag and actually quite funny as the guy was a real character. He eventually stopped and gave us some facts about bananas. It’s hard to believe, but we actually thought that this was interesting at the time. Annoyingly, I can still remember some of the details. But, don’t panic, I’m not going to inflict them on you.

On our last day we headed back south towards Perth and spent some time at the Pinnacles. These are thousands of stone pillars rising out of the desert looking like the discarded teeth of some long lost giant. The phenomenon was naturally created as limestone deposits were left exposed after years of sand erosion. Early explorers thought that they were the ruins of an ancient city when they spotted them from a distance when sailing along the coast towards Indonesia. No one would stop to investigate further in those days, as the mainland was generally believed to harbour all sorts of dangerous and unknown animals. How right they were.

Our final stop was at some sand dunes where our driver finally engaged the 4 wheel drive and threw the coach up and over some terrifyingly steep slopes. This was great fun for a while until he managed to get the back wheels buried in the sand, and so had to spend the next 2 hours digging us out.  We also had a try at sand boarding. This is exactly like snow boarding except that you end up with sand in your teeth. I had a precarious run as the board started without me. I had to catch up and cling on which I just managed after a few twists and turns. I thought that I’d managed the whole thing with great skill but I guess not as I was met at the bottom by Mags who was doubled up laughing.