South Africa

Cape Town

We dreamed up this holiday while watching TV. The Australian cricket team were hammering the South Africans in Oz at the time. There would be a return series in South Africa so we thought that it would be cool to catch the Cape Town match. We made sure that we had tickets for the game first and then worked the holiday around the match. Eventually, we decided to go for three weeks and see a bit of the country.

We were met at Cape Town airport by a very jolly taxi driver who managed to give us a complete potted history of the place during the journey to our hotel. It was rush hour so there was queuing on the freeway. This doesn’t apply to the local public transport, however, which consists of mini vans stuffed to bursting point with workers on their way into town. The vehicles are privately owned and the drivers get paid by how many trips they can manage. This leads to some ingenious and enterprising attempts to circumnavigate the traffic. The hard shoulder is fair game and is used routinely, but when this is blocked the grass verge will do. (Best not to get in the way of these chaps). We sat patiently in the back as our driver went through his well practised tourist speech. We passed the major hospital on the way in and he explained that this is the place where the first heart transplant was performed by Christiaan Neethling Barnard in 1967. This is something that the locals are extraordinarily proud of. You can’t get into a taxi in Cape Town without being told of this feat even if you’re nowhere near the hospital. The route from the airport to the centre of town takes you past a huge shanty town, known as the Cape Flats. It really is quite shocking to see for yourself the conditions in which people are living. The pictures in the guide books and images previously seen on TV had not prepared us for the scale of deprivation. The average dwelling looks about the size of garden shed or typical London flat, although not as solid, having been assembled from presumably whatever was available. This is generally off cuts of wood, boxes and corrugated iron. Our driver explained that conditions had dramatically improved with the recent introduction of sewerage and electricity, so I couldn’t imagine how bad it must of been. The government has started building some public housing to re-house people, but there’s obviously a lot to do.

Our hotel was on the ‘Waterfront’ in the centre of town. A beautiful small luxury hotel that was reckoned to be one of the two best in Cape Town. There was no holding back on this trip, 5 star all the way. Well, it seemed a bit scrooge like not to with the Rand trading at 500 to the Albanian Groat – never mind the Pound. The Victoria and Alfred Waterfront is a working harbour that has been developed as a tourist centre in recent years with the introduction of lots of trendy bars, restaurants and shops. We set off to explore that evening and headed towards what looked like a likely venue to sample the local brew. At the entrance we were scanned by some security guards using one of those magic wands that I’d only previously seen at airports. One of the guys asked “Any firearms?” I wasn’t sure if he meant ‘Do I have any?’ or ‘Would I like some?’ Undeterred, although now extremely wary, we headed in. It was actually a very pleasant place with a large number of tables outside overlooking the water. We whiled away a few hours there relaxing into our holiday.

We spotted a few British celebrities in Cape Town, obviously avoiding the Northern winter. Robert Lindsay, the actor, and his family were staying at the same hotel as us. I had this incredible urge to shout “Mother” every time I saw him, but just managed to resist. (For those of you who have never seen GBH you’re doubtless a bit confused. He’s probably more famous as Woolfie Smith in Citizen Smith, and most recently plays the Dad in ‘My Family’ alongside Zoe Wannamaker.) We were strolling along the waterfront one afternoon when we passed Gary Mabbut, who was pointing out the seals to his daughter. Mags turned to me and said “I’m sure I know that guy.”

“That’s because it’s Gary Mabbut”

“Oh! Just as well I didn’t say anything. I was about to stop and chat to him”

I can imagine what he might have thought if she had – “I know I played with some old women in the Spurs defence, but I don’t remember you”.

The seals are very popular with the tourists but not quite as well appreciated by the locals and tradesmen. They stink for a start and are fond of clogging up the jetties while they bask in the sun, making it difficult for the cruise boats to operate. There’s a regular battle going on between the seals and the boat owners equipped with brooms as weapons. The seals manage to hold their own though.

On our first full day, we took delivery of our hire car and made straight for the wine district. (There just always seem to be vineyards near where we end up on holiday). The car arrived a little later than planned so we had to make straight for our lunch venue that Mags had spotted in the brochures the previous evening. This was a beautiful old winery called Boschendal in Stellenbosch where they serve a eat as much as possible buffet lunch, accompanied by their excellent wines. Mags tucked into the wine list while I had to make do with water as, conned as usual, I was the driver. There is an old manor house on the estate built in 1812. You have to say that it’s pretty small compared with the stately homes back in Blighty, with only four rooms and a hallway. But it’s an historic site having once been owned by that famous South African Liberal Cecil John Rhodes. We had a wander around the estate in the warm sunshine before heading off to explore the region. We had perfect, blue skies for our drive which made the scenery particularly striking, especially the surrounding mountains.  

Driving around is a real pleasure as there is very little traffic and the roads are very good. We found this to be the case all through our trip in S.A. The only real problem was to avoid the pedestrians as there are no pavements. This wouldn’t be an issue except for the custom of moving over to the hard shoulder (where the pedestrians are) to let cars past. Having overtaken you the car now in front will flash his / her hazard lights to thank you – all very civilised if you ignore the pedestrians jumping into the bushes to safety. The traffic lights take a little getting used to. There’s no red/amber signal between stop and go. You can be waiting patiently at a red light, suddenly glance up and it’s green - a kind of Twilight Zone feeling.

Our second stop was the sleepy village of Franschhoek which was originally settled by French Huguenot families. (These Huguenots got around a bit). The village has a spectacular setting encircled by the Franschhoek and Groot Drakenstein mountains. We strolled idly around gazing at all the pretty, thatched roofed cottages before heading back to base. There’s a lot more to do and see in the wine district (which really means eat and drink) but we didn’t have the time on this trip. Next time, I think we’ll get a chauffeur or stay overnight.

Of course we visited the Cape of Good Hope and Cape Point, the southern most point of the Cape Peninsula. These places like Lands End or John O’Groats seem to have some magnetic attraction for tourists so we couldn’t help ourselves. The car just went there by itself. The main attraction is really the drive around the Cape peninsula which is quite spectacular with the Atlantic, the Pacific or sometimes both in view all the time; waves crashing into the shoreline. There are lots of small towns along the route with wonderful beaches, and plenty of stopping points to take photos of the magnificent views.

The area around Cape Point is a nature reserve with plenty of wildlife and flora & fauna to see. The most noticeable creatures are the baboons that approach the cars with the hope of being fed. Tourists are advised not to give them food as they can be dangerous. We didn’t find them particularly attractive or interesting although everyone else seemed to be fascinated.

Another must is the trip to the top of Table Mountain. Apparently, it can be walked but it’s a hell of a way so we took the cable car like everyone else. It’s quite a ride as the car goes up practically vertically. I was pleased to note the small plaque that declared it was built in Switzerland – very reassuring. The car is round in shape with floor to ceiling windows providing for a great view for everyone on board. Just when we were feeling fine, clinging onto the hand supports, the operator flicked a switch and we’re suddenly moving around. This is because it’s a rotating cable car. The idea, I’m sure, must be to give everyone a view from all vantage points. The floor rotates around a central podium whilst the walls stay fixed. This means that the inhabitants are slowly moved clockwise around the cabin. Nice idea, but I think we’d have preferred to have remained stationary. The view is sensational as you get further up the mountain, with the city spread out beneath your feet. Unfortunately, at the top, fog had settled in and visibility was near zero so we didn’t quite get to see the best views. There’s the customary café and tourist shop of course, and some well marked paths to walk along. We tottered about for a while but fog is fog from any angle so we soon headed back down. Needless to say, that was the only day when the mountain was covered in cloud but we didn’t have time to go back up.

Camps Bay is an attractive little seaside district of Cape Town where most of the beautiful people seem to hang out with their Porsches. There’s a fantastic white beach separating a long line of restaurants from the Atlantic Ocean. We had lunch in one of these establishments picked at random. It was a lovely way to spend an afternoon munching on a seafood platter watching the world go by. Jason Gillespie walked past at one point which wasn’t that much of a surprise as he was playing in the Test Match, but as it was due to start the next day, we thought that he might have been practising. One of the waiters made a concerted effort to get him to eat in the restaurant but with no luck. After lunch we went to dip our toes in the water, and that’s as far as we got as the sea was absolutely freezing. The Cape is unique in that you can swim in the Atlantic, hop into you car, drive a few minutes, and then swim in the Pacific. But unless you have a great desire to do this (‘cos you can) then stick to the Pacific side – it’s a lot warmer. The wind generally picks up in Camps bay in the afternoon and the waves start to grow so the bathers disappear and the surfers come out to play.

Before long we were off to Newlands to watch the test match between South Africa and Australia. The ground is situated in a fairly rich suburb with a fantastic view of Table Mountain. It must be the prettiest ground I’ve been to. We had seats in the Presidents Pavilion round about fine leg. We were meant to get afternoon shade, but this didn’t materialise till about 4 O’clock. We lasted until about 2, slowly melting into our seats before we sought refuge. We moved back up the stand till we found an area under shade. We asked some of the people there if we could sit with them and they graciously consented. Mags of course immediately started chatting to everyone and before long we were best of friends, and we spent the rest of the test match with them. We referred to that little area as codgers corner as everyone was over sixty. It turned out that a group of them had bought debentures for the seats when the stand was built. The reason there were now so many spaces was that half of them had by now retired to that great pavilion in the sky.  There were some interesting characters including an ex-mayor of Cape Town who naturally knew everyone. And another chap who I think must have been an ex cricketer because he seemed to know all the cricket greats. Graham Pollock came over to speak with him. He now lives in London – Graham Gooch helped him get his residency.

Australia won the match pretty convincingly with the highlight being Adam Gilchrist’s quick fire hundred. SA did put up a fight in the second innings, but in the end, the new look, slim Shane Warne bowled practically non stop for a whole day to win the game.

We did have to listen to a fair bit of local politics in codger’s corner which can be summed up from a white perspective as “the blacks are ruining everything”. Still, everyone was very friendly and we had a great time. The secondary entertainment was provided by the ice cream and drinks sellers. These guys just wander around amongst the seats shouting out their particular catch phrase to try and make a sale. One chap would exclaim “What a day!” everywhere he went. This never changed irrespective of the weather or the score for that matter. Another guy just said “Ice Cream” very quickly five times, as if he thought that his sales were directly proportional to the number of times he could say the magic word.  Added to the other shouts of “Water”, “Coke, Coke, Coke”, and “Biltong”, this was the constant soundtrack to the match. The atmosphere at cricket grounds around the world is always different. At Lords the predominant sound is “Shush!”, in the West Indies it is booming reggae music emanating from colossal speakers -interrupted by officials screaming of “Mr DJ!, Mr DJ” over the tanoy in an attempt to get the music to stop while play is in progress. In Australia I can’t recall any one dominant theme, but there’s plenty of wise cracks and assorted sayings such as “Strewth it’s hot!”, “Burp!” and “Bowlin’ Warney”

Other refreshments were available behind the stands. Although on the first day, a Friday, we discovered that most of the outlets were closed during the lunch break. This was because they are mostly owned and run by Muslims who had gone off to pray. Pure genius. Thankfully, there was always Castle corner which never seemed to close.

After the cricket we left Cape Town and headed to the Drakensburg Mountains via Johannesburg. We had been advised that it was best to avoid Jo’burg as violent crime is rife, so we just changed planes there and boarded a tiny propeller jobby that took us to the town of Nelspruit in Mpumalanga in the North Eastern part of the country. The airport at Nelspruit is extremely small, but the service is exceptional. The local baggage handler carried our bags all the way to our hire car, lobbed them into the boot, and then decided to move the car to a more convenient position for us. Unfortunately for him, he picked drive instead of reverse, and managed to bump into a Mercedes reversing out of a nearby parking bay. Our car was unscathed, but the door of the Merc was caved in – poor sod. We left them behind arguing over the damage.

Our destination was a hotel called The Blue Mountain Lodge. We had a 30 minute drive or so to get there although this ended up being a tad longer after we started out in the wrong direction. The hotel is reached via a mile or so of dirt road that our Japanese saloon car really wasn’t designed for. Nevertheless, we got there eventually. We were met at the hotel entrance and told that we were staying in the manor house and had to get back in the car to drive back up the track to get there. We were shown into this house that had its own driveway, gardens, aviary (yes, that’s birds in a large outdoor cage), and swimming pool. Inside there was a huge reception room with a vaulted ceiling, a study, kitchen, two enormous bedrooms both with ensuite bathrooms. The swimming pool overlooked a small lake that was about 200 metres away at the foot of the garden. Our Jaws dropped. Mags enquired “Who else is staying here?”. “Just you madam”. We really had no idea that we’d booked something like this so it was quite a surprise.

Since the place was so wonderful we decided to spend the next day staying put just lording it around our “country estate”. I’ve a great photo of Mags laying on one of the sun lounges next to the swimming pool reading a book, looking every bit as if she was born to this kind of life. Obviously this is a bit of a worry for me.

Dinner is held each evening at the main building of the hotel a short drive away back down the private dirt road. It’s an all inclusive, 5 course, heart attack inducing feast. Someone comes to the house with a selection of appetisers and the menu just before sunset. The drive back is a little adventure after a few chardonnays.

It was extremely difficult to tear ourselves away from this tranquil haven, but we had come to see the countryside, so we headed off in the car to explore. The area is famed for its waterfalls, and it certainly has a few.

Probably the most spectacular place we visited was Bourke’s potholes. This is at the confluence of two rivers that have cut a severe groove through the landscape. Where they meet there’s a crashing of water as each tries to assert itself before they settle into one river. This aquatic violence has eroded the landscape over time, moulding it into some unusual shapes looking like, yes you guessed it, potholes.

The principal industries apart from tourism are banana and avocado farming, and logging. It was interesting to see avocados growing as we had no idea where they came from. In fairness, I don’t think a lot of people spend a great deal of time thinking about it. They grow on small bushes by the way. (I know that you’re riveted).  

Strangely enough, we found that bananas and avocados were extremely cheap. Well, free really. We splashed out on some tomatoes for lunch one day. There are lots of locals selling a few bags of fruit in the towns and along the roadside. Mags insisted that we buy from one of these vendors to make sure that we put something back into the local economy. We approached one of the said fruit sellers and enquired about the price of a bag of toms. You could see her sizing us up and wondering how much she could get away with charging. “2 rand” was the answer. Mags surprised me by responding with “1 rand”. Negotiations thereby started and were about to go into arbitration when I interrupted with an offer of “1 rand 50” which was accepted. Mags complained to me that she was sure that she could have got them cheaper. I reminded her that she wanted to give some money to the locals. She said “Fair enough, but I don’t like being ripped off”. Typical Aussie. 2 rand is about 12 pence by the way.

The other main industry is craft works (No, not dodgy German synthesizer music); carvings and stuff mostly of the wildlife found in the nearby Kruger national park. Practically every waterfall or beauty spot is accompanied by an array of craft sellers. After a while you realise that they are all peddling the same stuff so there must be some factory somewhere where the giraffes, elephants and so on are whittled out at an amazing rate (Probably made in China). Naturally, we bought a load of stuff which we didn’t need which resulted in us throwing away clothes and stuff we actually did need in order to squeeze the figures into our luggage to get them home.

Next stop was the Kruger, and Mala Mala game reserve in particular. This is one of the private game reserves inside the park that look after the tourists, making sure they don’t get up to too much mischief and keeping them alive. We were staying in what they termed the “Main Camp”, which was the swishiest one of the four camps that they ran. ‘Camp’ is a bit misleading as everyone has a thatched bungalow each with air-conditioning and his and hers ensuite bathrooms. Laundry is complimentary and all meals are inclusive. There is a swimming pool and a Gym. No tents in site.

We soon discovered that we were a bit out of place as everyone else staying there was loaded. Serious rich people who didn’t need to work anymore. In fact, I think a number of the guests hadn’t bothered ever working. The guest book read like a who’s who guide – Mick Jagger, Tom Watson, Bill Clinton, Lance Klusner, Elton John and so on. Nelson Mandella had also stayed there but, to be fair, he seems to have been everywhere in SA.

You get put into a group for the duration of your stay for the safari drives. Our little ensemble included a Canadian couple around about the same age as us, and an ancient Australian couple. I think the camp must try and put people together that they think will get on based on the information that they have on people. Clearly, this doesn’t always work.  It was my first time on safari but I immediately recognised the Canadians as safari bores. We had a running commentary on our first drive of

- “There are so many more elephants in Kenya” and

- “Black Rhino are much harder to find that the White, but we saw them in Namibia, It was amazing”.

That kind of thing. Still, they settled down after they were satisfied that they were established as the safari kings – or should that be safari tossers. Later, we actually started to get on with them after we got to know them a bit better. Perhaps we had a good influence on the group. Either that or we were turning into safari tossers as well.

The Australian couple really were old. They had just completed an extended cruise from Sydney and were finishing off with this Safari before heading back home to die. The guy had a dodgy leg and couldn’t walk far. He had brought with him a little motorised buggy that assembled from four parts, and he whizzed around the camp in this most of the time. He had made his money running a steel forging business in the 50s. No surprise then that he was a tough old bugger. He bullied his wife relentlessly who wasn’t allowed to have an opinion. Not that she would have remembered anyway, as dementure had well and truly set in, poor thing.

Each group was looked after by a ranger and a tracker. The tracker is always a black guy from the local tribe, and the ranger is always a white guy who drives, does the talking and generally makes sure that the guests are happy. Our ranger was a Zimbabwean called Leon whose main interest was the birdlife. He loved to point out all the different species of birds, telling us about their feeding and migratory habits. He could do the bird calls for most of them, and was able to con the birds into responding to him several times. Some people just don’t seem to fit their names, and Leon is one. I don’t know exactly why this is, but we all had trouble calling him Leon as it seemed so out of place. He’s certainly no French assassin, although he did carry a gun around. The tracker didn’t speak much English so we didn’t get to learn much about him except that he was called Elvis, and that he could spot a Chameleon at night from 50 paces.

So much for the people, it was the animals that we had come to see after all. And the ‘Big 5’ in particular. The 5 are the elephant, rhino, buffalo, lion and leopard; so called, not because of their size, but because they are reputedly the most dangerous to hunt on foot. Each day was organised around two safari drives; one in the morning before it gets too hot, and one in the late afternoon / evening - again to avoid the worst of the sun. This sounds all very sensible except that it meant having to get up at 5:30 a.m for the first drive. The vehicles are open topped land rovers with special tiered seating so that everyone gets a good view.

Our first sighting was of a Leopard that just came walking up to us. Leon pulled to the side of the road to let it past and it walked slowly by only a few feet away from the vehicle. This certainly woke us up. I for one was just a little apprehensive about being so close to a wild man-eater without any protection. Leon explained however that most of the animals can’t tell that there are people inside the truck – all they see is the land rover. They are totally used to the vehicles, and as they know that they can’t eat them and also that they are not a threat, they ignore them. In the animal kingdom it seems you are either food, a predator or just invisible. This means that you can get really close to the animals even if it is just a little scary despite the reassuring words from Leon.

Well, the whole experience was fantastic and much better than I had expected. I had thought that it would be a bit like Knowsley safari park (a zoo in England) but on a grander scale. In reality, it’s a thrill to see these animals in their natural habitat all trying to survive. There were many highlights including watching a rhino take a mud bath, witnessing a young elephant bull demolish a tree, being overtaken by a herd of buffalo in the dark, tracking a Leopard through the bush and watching it leap into a tree, lion cubs at play and just admiring the scenery. At sunset, Leon would stop for a while so that we would stretch our legs and take a leak, if necessary. He always chose an open area to make sure that we weren’t hopping out of the car next to a pride of Lions. Still, modesty dictated that you had to search for a bush to urinate. I think we all broke our personal bests for fastest pee.

For me the most memorable moment came when we tracked a group of four lioness stalking buffalo in the evening.  The lions were slowly but surely creeping up on the buffalo that seemed to be unaware of their presence. However, just when it looked as if the predators were about to pounce, a group of buffalo charged towards the lions dispersing them and scaring them off – brilliant stuff.

At Mala Mala, the guests were outnumbered by the staff by a ratio of six to one. This seemed to be typical of South Africa which has clearly embarked on a policy of full employment by means of using lots of people to do the smallest of jobs. This is particularly noticeable to tourists in the service industries where you are swamped by waiters in each restaurant. (This doesn’t necessarily improve the service.).  A good example is the use of labour at road works. Teams of black guys work on the roads to keep them in top condition (and the roads are all good) using mostly shovels with very little machinery. At each end of the road works a guy is ‘employed’ to stand there all day with a red flag to warn motorists that road works are in progress – a kind of human red triangle. You get so used to this over employment that it’s a surprise to find that when you get into a taxi, there’s only one person driving. Much of this must stem from the ridiculously cheap labour that is available from the black community who continue to make up the majority of the poorest people in the country. Driving around in some of the more remote parts there are always people on the roadside walking to work or home. They must walk miles each day.

The last leg of our trip took us to the Garden Route, the name given to the stretch of coastline form Grahamstown, near Port Elizabeth to Mossel Bay, near Cape Town. We stayed in Plettenburg Bay about half way along the Garden Route in a hotel located on a cliff top with majestic views of the coast and the long sandy beach below. We arrived at around lunchtime to be greeted by the sight of dolphins playing in the bay. We located the restaurant and sat down to a lovely meal of succulent white fish washed down with a bottle or two of Chardonnay. We were seated on the terrace near the swimming pool with a fantastic view so we just sat there relaxing and chatting away all afternoon. Before we knew it the sun was going down and we had to clear out to make way for the dinner guests. Now the sensible thing at this point would have been to go straight to bed. Needless to say we enquired as to the whereabouts of the nearest bar and commandeered a taxi to take us there. It was only about 400 yards but walking was by this stage out of the question. After a few tequilas and beers, we made complete fools of ourselves dancing around the bar. Tequila for me is like fast food. Seems like a good idea at the time but you always regret it afterwards.

The whole Garden Route is served by the N2 which bisects the land that lies between the coast and the mountains so getting around is very easy. We zoomed up and down this for a few days stopping off at places of interest and just generally enjoying the countryside. At one point, we left the main road in search of adventure only to end up on a dirt track hopelessly lost. After a couple of hours of u-bends and dust we ended up back where we had started. However, we did discover an Ostrich farm and I got to pretend that I was Colin McRae for a while.

One of the notable places on the Garden Route that we visited was Knysna (No, I can’t pronounce it either). It’s a small town situated next to a large natural lagoon protected from the sea by two sandstone cliffs, the Knysna heads. There’s a waterfront complex of shops and restaurants and a steam train departs from there every day for George following a picturesque route. We didn’t have time for the train – it’s not the quickest form of transport - but did pick up a few bargains in the craft shops.  More luggage to carry home.

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.