The Road To Inverness

We hired a van on the weekend and in a break in the weather drove to Glasgow and back to retrieve a bunch of my possessions from my parents house, my sister's loft, my friend's basement, another's shed. I'd only left things for 12 months and four years later I was struggling to remember just exactly what I had left where.

Anyhoo. We left Glasgow mid snow storm and had an uneventful drive back to Inverness. And here are a few photies He took with my phone.

Hanging out for a Carlisle Street latte.

It isn't possible to live in two places at once and more's the pity. I'd like to have the best of two worlds, because sometimes the grass is greener, the toilet paper softer and Heinz CREAM OF tomato soup the only thing to make you feel better when you are poorly. Glasgow is miles better and Scotland pure dead brilliant and for making comparisons, highlighting differences and specifying a preference I have, in the past and on more than one occasion been called whatever the Scottish version of a whinging pom is. Oh yes, a whinging pom.

The shoe is now on the other foot and I run the risk of being a cut above the rest, too big for my boots and fancying for not being happy with a cup of nescafe, indeed a cup of tea.

But I am hanging hanging hanging out for a carlisle street latte and there's precious little round these parts that comes close.

For starters a latte here simply isn't a latte. It is a long hot milk in a tall hot chocolate glass with what seems like a hot milky coffee pored in. And when I say hot I mean far too hot. There's no enjoying your coffee any time soon because it is scalding. In fact all the coffee here is too hot and I can't work out if that is because the milk is heated to a much higher temperature, or the coffee itself and to be fair it isn't that the coffee is burnt or scalded, but your mouth most certainly will be if you aren't patient. As for the cappuccinos, they aren't so unfamiliar, but on return i find what was once my favourite coffee is too strong and too short and there's simply not enough drinking to pleasure in it. At the other extreme I could have a coffee from Starbucks, but they only seem to come in pint, litre and gallon sized.

The only option now, when I can find it, is to order a flat white. Now I have to confess that I never had a Melbourne flat white - one regular latte and I had found my drink of choice. Medium strength, rich roast, at perfect drinking temperature and with a rich creamy foam that goes from top to bottom. On working days I would often postpone the pleasure of my single morning coffee till almost lunchtime and the coffee was no less enjoyed for being in a take away cup. I'd drink it half down and then remove the lid and give it a swirl to make sure I caught all the foam. On the weekends the pleasure would be all the more for sitting at a cafe table with the coffee glass resting on a pretty vintage saucer. I'd idly stir the teaspoon once around the top of the coffee before I drank it in sips and once or twice after to make sure I caught all the foam around the edges. The odd day when I was tired or feeling extravagant I would order a second, but I never enjoyed it as much as the first and often as not It would leave me with a bit too much caffeine buzzing about.

Maybe I should bugger off back to Melbourne if I like the coffee there so much. I can read it on people's faces. See it in their eyes. I am a coffee snob. An elitist. A bore. Actually I feel like an addict cut off from a dependable source. Forget five months of no nicotine, it's the coffee I miss. I'm preoccupied. I can't get that first sip out of my mind. It's beginning to interfere with my life, my daily routine, my friendships. It would interfere with my job, if I had one. I can't stop talking about it. I've been looking up photos of old coffees on my computer. I'm even driving the long way round in the hope I'll come across a new coffee outlet I didn't know about.





Until I find a dependable source a Costa flat white it will have to be. It's bigger than it should be, but not so much. Hotter than is drinkable but if you wait five minutes it is alright. And it is a little too strong, but that helps see me through until the next Costa which could be days, weeks, away.

Like so many good things, I didn't know how much I would miss it till I was gone.
Good times, good times.

Clouds SA

I've been taking pictures of clouds all week. It is only now that I have posted them that I realise that I haven't seen clouds for a while. Not big fat rain filled ones anyway. Here are a few.

Feel it. It is here.

For two days we are staying on the Weltewrede Fig Farm near Prince Albert. A rambling old farmhouse with a piping hot iron stove in the kitchen, paraffin lamps, no electricity, no television and only radio for the world cup action. Last night's Australia Germany game was certainly all the better of listening in in Afrikaans with a gentle translation of the events by my friend Josh.

We've popped in to town for chores and sight seeing and coffee and I am happily left to myself in a lovely cafe with strong coffee, a warm fire and wireless internet. The Denmark Netherlands game is on in the background with the vuveselas buzzing constantly behind the action.

This is the start of Week 2 of our road trip. If you are familiar with the geography we have been from Baardskeerdersbos to Barrydale, Kruiserivier, Joubertina in the Llangkloof, Jeffreys Bay on the coast by Port Elizabeth (top surf beach), Bathurst, Graafe Reinett, Nieu Bethesda, Willowmore and now Prince Albert.

We have kept mostly away from people and have been driving in search of mountain views and quiet cottages with big fireplaces to cosy up in. Angela and Josh like to keep off the beaten track and away from the towns often. Visually there is so much to look at, even in the places where there are few people. And when we hit the towns it is curious to see the range of places. I am still struggling at times with the contrasting poverty and wealth of the population. The extremes of wealth and poverty was less apparent in the Eastern Cape though, a poorer province with patched roads and plenty of potholes. In Graafe Reinet, a bustling busy town where we stopped for shopping, there was lots of industry and hardly any white people. Braziers were burning on the street to keep folk warm, there were people selling everything from oranges (naartjies) and shoes and nail polish on the streets and the supermarkets were full of people and very few of them were white. Very different to Hermanus and the other towns near Cape Town. I liked the place I think because it felt African, rather than Afrikaans or European, even though there were galleries and cafes and chocolate shops which wouldn't be out of place in Melbourne, in amongst all the bustle. Although I doubt it would be easy to live there.

In Bathurst, east of Port Elizabeth and Grahamstown, we stopped for a take away breakfast from a kiosk at the back of an Afrikaans family's home. It was about the only place in town we could find some food before midday and so we had russian sausages and chips from the fryer for breakfast. We stood there half an hour with the mother, son (who is a fisherman - fish and chips being the other option on the menu) and a couple of girls kicking about badly underdressed for the weather, while the fryer heated up and the sausages microwaved. It was a truly random moment in time. The family had the look of eastern europe in their features and their take away was obviously an important part of their income. So far east it was evident that anyone could be poor and have to strive to make a living.

And everywhere we go there are vuveselas blowing at all times of day and night, and people asking if we are following the soccer and shouts of Bafana Bafana. There is a party atmosphere everywhere we go, before the matches even started. Yesterday we had a SA flag clipped on the bakkie and we got waves and smiles and shouts all of the day. It is surprising how everyone's emotions are stirred by the World Cup being here and the recognition that this couldn't have occurred here even a few years ago.

I am unprepared for blogging and am pulling random thoughts together as i type. I won't apologise as I doubt I'm going to get any more prepared or succinct in the coming weeks.

Net we head to forlorn Sutherland in the Great Karoo Wilderness. Then right over to the west coast of the Cape before turning for home at the end of next week.

More some other time.

South Africa

For the last couple of weeks I have been in this here house staying with my friends Angela and Josh in South Africa - in Baardskeersderbos which is near Gansbaai which is near nowhere exactly. Somewhere east of Cape Town and then east of Hermanus. I have been reading (Paul Theroux’s Dark Star Safari – Cairo to Cape Town over land), cooking, pottering in the garden, learning to crochet, playing with lego and living the life that Angela and Josh normally lead. A lovely life with a wonderful home at its centre.

For the last couple of days we have been in Stellenbosch for the opening of Josh’s art exhibition at an old winery there, Delheim. For the price of one of Josh’s woodcuts we are staying in a nearby lodge and so I have the luxury of wireless internet when the cafe is open.

So for a few minutes I have the chance of a quick blog. I've been thinking about what to say as my initial impression and I am sorry that it is negative rather than positive, when my friends have made me so welcome and I am so enjoying spending time with them

South Africa feels foreign, unfamiliar and uncomfortable when we are out and about in it. I can think of lots of things that are unfamiliar and unsettling but mostly I am uncomfortable being white in a place where that puts me in the small minority of people who have, rather than the majority of people who have next to nothing. I feel responsible here, simply for being white.

It's taken me half an hour to get that far with how I feel and here is my breakfast. A glass layered with yoghurt and muesli and fruit and honey with a frothy coffee on the side.

Next time I'll be better organised and have more to say about the beautiful places we've seen and the animals and the rest.

On Saturday we head off on a road trip to the Eastern Cape and the Great Karoo. More from there.

The Road Trip II: Karijini National Park to Port Hedland.

Tom Price is a mining town and most of the folk there are there for that reason, hence the lack of accommodation for the spontaneous traveller. It is also one of the closest places to the Karijini National Park, which is famous there and thereabouts for snaking gorges cut in to the red ground with waterfalls and waterholes at their bases. I hadn't heard of the park until I got to Exmouth, but having heard about it I wanted to go and it was the main destination on the road trip.

Once I got there I realised that alot of the roads into and around the park were unsealed so I decided, for the sake of Hertz and my hire car, to stick mostly to the sealed roads even though it would limit how much of the national park I could see. Given the short time that I had and the distances I was going to cover I had already realised that I was only going to have scattered glimpses of the Pilbara rather than seeing anything in great detail.

Karijini is red and dusty as far as the eye can see, with more of the rocky outcrops and ridges but no sign of all the action that happens down at the bottom of the gorges. It is only once you have followed the signs to the landmarks, gotten out of the car in the middle of dust and dirt and heat and followed the path to the lookouts that you are surprised by the deep red gorges running through the park. Not until you are standing at the top of a gorge looking down would you know that it was there.



I went to Dales Gorge first, it runs from circular pool to Fortescue Falls, a distance of over a kilometre and a depth of nearly 600metres. From a vertiginous lookout at the top of the gorge you can hold on to the metal barriers and look down in to the dark circular pool surrounded by greenery below. I walked along the top of the gorge to where you had to take a deep breath and clamber down an even dizzier making path.



Before I took the plunge I walked on a bit to gather my courage whilst pretending to myself I wasn't going to bother to go down. I did though, keeping my centre of gravity very close to the ground as I went (upside down crab) whilst giving myself a stern talking to for attempting it at all in thongs (flip flops!).



After the steep descent the path at the bottom of the gorge was easy and led past a shallow stream, tall grasses, layers and layers of red flat rock and over a stream to the circular pool where unexpectedly there were a bunch of other sight see-ers already having a dip. The water was cool silky smooth. And oddly not salty after days at the beach.



The climb out was much easier than the climb down since I had my back to the drop. Back on the top of the world I jumped in the car and drove a few kilometres to the other end of the gorge and in appropriate footwear this time I climbed down to the Fortescue Falls for a second swim in the pool there.



I got some good advice from one of the locals at the pool - check yourself for leeches after a swim (I was happily leech free) - and some useful advice too - the unsealed roads are perfectly passable at any sensible speed in a car and I should give it a go (he was driving quite successfully at un-sensible speeds in a 4 by 4). Emboldened by this advice I decided to cut back across the bottom of the park and drive to the Hammersley Gorge along the unsealed roads and then take a short cut round the west and north of the park to the Millstream Chichester National Park before finishing up in Karratha.

So off I headed on the unsealed roads for Hammersley Gorge and climbed back down in to the ground for the third time. Once at the bottom you have to scramble up the side of the waterfall picking out a path as best you can and occasionally having to take a leap to the other side to find your way. I didn't know what I was heading to, only that it was where I was supposed to be going by the whoops and laughter coming from that direction.



At the top there was a flat pool surrounded by slippy algae covered rocks, which made getting in to the pool clumsy. At the other end of the pool I had to climb out backwards, so I could get some purchase on the steep slippy rocks and then it was only a couple of metres to a deep, dark and perfectly round pool that was colder than any of the others being shaded by a rocky overhang. I have no idea how deep it was (it probably came out in Scotland on the old drovers path where the lochan is claimed to be bottomless) and I had no desire to find out . I did manage a quick dip in the shadows to the crystal clear waterfall that fell a metre or two from the sunshine above the rocks bringing all of the heat of the sun with it. As hot as any shower.



And then I was back on to the red dusty unsealed road and heading north. It was later in the day than I thought after my three swims and I still had a ways to go. The unsealed roads didn't make for easy driving with the constant rattling of the car and the need to beware the occasional roller coaster dip in to the floodways. I rather missed the ease, the pace and the peace of the highways. When I realised I'd be lucky to get to Karratha in daylight and with a whim to pass through the deserted town of Wittenoom I turned east across the top of the national park to sealed roads, highways and Port Hedland.

There used to be a blue asbestos mine in Wittenoom - before the blue asbestos fibres worked their way in to lining of the lungs of the residents and miners causing cancer it was the biggest town in the Pilbara. After a thousand deaths the government cleared the town of all except the most stubborn residents, declared it unsafe and removed its status as a township. Wittenoom appears deserted. There are buildings gathered at the base of a hill, houses in pale pink and yellow and directions to the visitors centre, but there are no people and they have even taken down the signs bearing the name of the town. Therefore, it no longer exists. An ABC article from 2006 says that in fact eight people still live in the town including one man who shoots kangaroos for a living and the love of his life; they met on the empty main street but I didn't see anyone as I drove by.

After Wittenoom it was 45 kilometres and I was back on to sealed roads, hurrah, and after Auski Roadhouse back on to the familiar highway heading for Port Hedland, another industrial town. Somewhere east of Marble Bar (Australia's hottest place) I passed miles and miles of red dirt and gravel, as if the earth was freshly tilled and turned. No trees, no scrub, no spinnifex clumps, nothing green - only red dirt dust and rocks as far as I could see. I would have taken a picture but i had just overtaken a road train and I wasn't going to let him catch me.

I got in to Port Hedland at dark and had another search for somewhere to stay on my hands. This time it was more than I spent in Tom Price, but the woman in charge was lovely, the room didn't smell of gravy and I had had a good day.

The Road Trip. Exmouth to Tom Price.

I am a week or two behind with my travels now with everything from the whalesharks to Perth to fill in and much of the detail already disappearing behind me. After the whalesharks I had a week ahead of me in Exmouth and there simply isn't enough to do there if you are a girl alone with no wheels. I did know I was too full of emotion to sit still for a week, so with the memory of the last great WA Road Trip in mind I trotted off down to the car hire place before my worries could catch me up and in my best can do frame of mind hired myself something big enough and clever enough to take on the big distances, the road trains and the heat.

After stocking up with more water than I could drink in a week, food enough for a couple of days, a 3 CD compilation of power ballads and having put out the word of where I would be and when and at what time to get worried if there had been no call I took to the road.

The distances to be covered between anywhere in the Pilbara are considerable. On the first day I planned to drive from Exmouth south and then east to meet the northwest coastal highway, then north on the highway to the Nanutarra Roadhouse, and then east across nothing to reach Paraburdoo and then Tom Price, where I'd stay for the night. ABout 650 kilometres in all.
I thought the driving might be dull or difficult but I was looking forward to Tom Price and checking in to the motel before heading on to the national park the next day.

I thought the Pilbara was a desert and I liked the sound of me 'crossing the Pilbara'. I've realised since that the Pilbara is a bigger area than one desert and includes the coastal regions, the sand plains, the industrial towns and the deep river gorges. What it seems to have in common is the rich iron deposits in the earth which account for the rich red soil and the rich rich mining.



As with the train trip across the Nullabor (which on checking is also not a desert but a plain composed of the world's largest single piece of limestone!) the scenery was always changing even though it was always the same - red dirt, greenery and blue sky. The red dirt changed from pink to orange to deep sienna; rocks from orange to pink to purple slate. The greenery changed from straw to pale green, from tall grasses to clumps of spinifex.



Even some of the trees were red.



There wasn't a great deal else to see on the road. The occasional other vehicle, the odd bit of roadkill, huge rocky outcrops that came and went. The radio kept me company and I listened to the last day of western australia's last urban stock yards in action (it took me a good half an hour to realise that country hour was not country and western hour). I was hardly a pioneer woman crossing the great outback, with my organic cafe made sundried tomato and ricotta penne and a bottle of red wine in my cool bag and yet there was a real sense of satisfaction at covering the distances easily and in watching the world go by.

I was quite content with my lot then when I drove in to Tom Price mid afternoon and for a mining town in the middle of nowhere it has plenty going for it with 2 ovals, an outdoor cinema and a very new bright blue swimming pool. My anticipation of liking the place lasted only until I found myself sleeping in an A frame hut in the tourist park at the cost of 185 dollars for the privilege of a place that smelt strongly of old gravy. I'd thought that the woman at the Motel didn't like the look of me when she told me that they were full and to try calling the tourist park. I drove myself out there to find that the tourist park was also full and I was still trying to work out where that left me (in the middle of nowhere with nowhere to sleep with dusk coming on and the kangaroos lining up at the roadside to play chicken with the traffic in the dark) when the man heard from a regular that he wasn't coming in till the next day and I could have his room at that bargain price. You can't haggle over the last room in town, can you?

So I ate my fancy pasta and drank my red wine and watched the hundreds of cockatoos that were gathered in the trees outside and I took myself off to bed early wondering what exactly I was doing there in the middle of nowhere and planning to be up and out in the fresh air and off to Karijini bright and early.

And that is a tale for another day.

Snorkelling with Whalesharks, Ningaloo Reef, WA

On Monday I went out with Exmouth Diving Centre for a day of snorkeling with whalesharks. It was one of the main reasons for coming back to Western Australia (the other being the great road trip I had with CK from Perth to Monkey Mia in 2006), and I was simply lucky to be here at the right time of year.

I haven't quite gotten my head around the day yet because there was alot to take in. Much as I like being in the water I am not the most confident of swimmers. On Monday the day started windy and the water was a bit dark and choppy. We had a practise snorkel, while some of the others got a quick dive in, mostly to make sure we were happy enough in the water. And for me it was a bit bouncy on the water, and as snorkels go, the visibility wasn't great (although I did see a Manta Ray :)) but I was happy enough.

At 10 o clock spotter planes go up to find the whalesharks for the boats, and once they have found one the boats race over there and you have to be snorkel ready and in the water and swimming hard the moment you get there (they go surprisingly fast for what seems the minimum movement of their admittedly massive tail). Ten people are allowed in the water at any one time (plus the person in charge who is always keeping an eye on where the shark is) so there is also the business of negotiating other people and their fins. You must also stay behind their heads, 3 metres from their sides and at least 4 metres from their tails. Sounds easy enough until the whaleshark decides to change direction and is heading straight for you and you don't know how to snorkel backwards! (play dead and hope it changes direction seemed to work).

I could say an awful lot about the day, its excitement and adrenaline and frantic-ness never mind what I could say about the whalesharks (ocean's biggest fish, spots as individual as fingerprints, endangered, spend a couple of months at Ningaloo every year after the coral spawning, could be anywhere up to 20 metres long...) but there was a moment that stood out that I am sure I won't forget. On maybe the second dive the whaleshark was diving down below us. The ocean floor was only about 14 metres or so, so the whaleshark couldn't dive and disappear as some of the others did. Instead it began to rise and as it came closer to us and the surface the sunlight shining down lit up it's spots. And it's massive tail was slowly waving from side to side. And for just one moment everything in the world was this one massive creature from the deep.

I'm not going to be able to do it justice, but fortunately one of my fellow snorkellers, Cyril, had a sooper dooper Lumic High Definition camera and got some video footage. And this film is all that I am talking about. You can't tell from the video how big a fish it really is - so there is a photo at the top with a snorkeler or two for scale.



Thanks Cyril, for all of the videos and photos, and to Cyril and AJ for your company over beer and chinese food.

Broome, WA

I am at Broome airport on my way out. The Gallipoli Dawn Service for Anzac Day is playing on the telly, I have a latte to hand and about 45 minutes before I board my short flight to Learmouth/ Exmouth. It's been a funny few days in Broome. Funny to have all this time on my hands after weeks and months of being so busy. Funny to not to have to do anything much. I have to keep reminding myself I am on holiday and that I needn't do anything!

It's a good place to be, Broome, if you want to watch the world go by and catch up with yourself. It may be the start of autumn, but the days are hot. Nothing happens very quickly here and even though it is the start of the dry season - high season - there aren't many folk about.

It takes a bit to get your head around Broome which is odd when it is only small - small enough that I could walk from the 'international' airport to my motel when I arrived in no time at all. It is also an odd town, for a whole bunch of reasons, all of which add up to make it a fine place to be.

Broome is on the coast but you are hard pressed to get a glimpse of water as there are banks of mangroves which hide the ocean away. When you do get to the beach the sand is red (the pindan) and because the beach is shallow for a long way the water is somewhere between cobalt blue and pale aqua green. No one was in the water at the town beach, which is bayside. After hearing about the jellyfish I was a) not surprised and b) glad I noticed no one was in, wondered why and didn't go in myself.



I hired a bike to get around the town and widen my reach. A scooter might have been better given the temperatures, but at least I got my exercise. Cable Beach, a long white sand beach on the Indian Ocean is only about 5 kms away (I had a good coffee and a massive kiwi fruit muffin at the Old Zoo Cafe there, thanks for the rec. Colin!). There is much much less chance of a jellyfish sting at Cable Beach and lifegaurds to hand which makes a swim a bit less daunting. The life guard sign did note that the last sting was four days before - not unreasonable odds and the crashing surf was too good to miss. I also cycled to Point Gantheaume to see the lighthouse and the red rock formations. It was a long, hot dusty road to get there and I was beginning to despair I would ever get there. The lighthouse was really a beacon on scaffolding, but the beach was incredible. It was shallow as far as the eye could see, the water was clear as could be, the sunlight reflected silver and little fish were darting around my feet.



Broome's an old pearling town and because of that there has always been money for spending. Before the pearls were farmed the best divers came from China and Japan so the town has long had a multi cultural mix. This and it's popularity as a holiday spot mean that I had coffee any Melbourne barista would have been proud to serve, great fresh produce and some amazing food. I meant to go easy after recent weeks of fine dining, but the different places were too temtping. In Azuki I had the best ramen I've had since Japan made with a sweet soy stock, wheat noodles, thick slices of pork loin, pickled vegetables and bean sprouts topped with a dollop of spicy chilli kimchi - SO GOOD!! (see below). And at Noodlefish I had stir fried pork belly with chilli paste, green beans, green pepper corns and basil. I didn't make it to the great sounding italian restaurant and I only tried one beer (the Pindan Ale) at Matso's microbrewery. It was sharp and a bit too bitter for my taste. If I had been so inclined there were plenty more to choose from, including a chilli beer, the famour ginger beer and a chango beer made from chilli and mango. Next time.



About the only thing I knew about Broome in advance was that there was an open air cinema, or rather more quaintly, a picture gardens. I was very excited that it is still there and functioning, the oldest in the world. Really it is a shed with deck chairs and across the lawn a big screen. The outdoor experience is brought to life by frogs croaking in the hedges, small lizards wandering small across the cinema screen and a couple of aeroplanes flying straight over our heads to land behind the screen. Brilliant.



I'm in Exmouth as I finish writing this, I ran out of time at the airport as I am running out of time now. Word to the wise (not me!) - don't travel on Anzac Day - nothing is open! _the lodge staff left a note on the white board with my room number and advice that the keys were in the door).

Broome - good. Exmouth - let's see shall we.

Indian Pacific

Over the weekend I took the Indian Pacific from Sydney to Perth. Over four thousand kilometres in one train journey lasting three days and three nights. Some might say that only a fool would submit themself to such a trip, and only an old fool at that. The Chinese taxi driver who took me to Sydney Central Station literally cackled when i told him it cost nine hundred bucks and i still had to pay for food and agreed that he thought I was mad. I was hoping for an old fashioned charming and perhaps even rather romantic experience (hence the schmaltzy photo above) and I was really glad that that is what I had. It may have been somewhat different a tale if I had had to share the 'cosy' cabin with anyone else, but luckily the stewardess took pity on me and wangled things so I didn't have to share with any pensioners.

A three day journey is a long time, especially for the girl who gets restless and agitated on a plane after about 5 hours, but in some ways it wasn't quite long enough. Firstly there was the fun of settling myself in my cabin, ever so nonchalantly not caring whether or not I'd have a room mate, and then when it was clear I had the place to myself there was the fun of checking out how everything worked. The old fashioned radio buttons, the venetian blinds tucked between glass and the beds that appear from nowhere (one is behind one armchair and the other lowers from the ceiling).



Just plain looking out the window took up an awful lot of time. I was mesmerized by the largely empty but constantly changing landscape rolling by.

Here is the outback red landscape...



Here are the wheat fields of south Australia...



And here some grain stores...



And when I was in need of a change of scenery there was the chance to venture out and explore the narrow snaking corridors, the toilets with their 70s yellow formica, the menu for the next three days and the lounge dining car. After baked potato with chilli and sour cream and a single serve bottle of red wine it was back to my cabin and more window gazing- this time at the night sky. The Milky Way was a vivid swirl above and there were millions of bright stars. We seemed to keep pace with it, or rather to be motionless with the sky as the land rolled by. Beautiful.

After a creaking, rocking, shuttling night's sleep in a surprisingly comfy and cosy berth it was up early for a tour of Broken Hill. The humour was decidedly elderly, as was the content but the view of the train (all 21 carriages, car transporter and engine)
from up on top of the line of lode was cool.



There were four stops in all, which is perhaps why I felt the journey wasn't quite long enough - we seemed to be always on our way to the next place. On the second afternoon we had a few hours in Adelaide where I had coffee and a piadina in a cafe overlooking there arts market. The next morning we got out to wander Cook, a now largely deserted town whose only purpose is a rest and changeover stop for the drivers. Here is the Cook Country Club, established 2006 complete with badminton court, basketball courts and nine hole golf course - the last particularly impressive in a place where water is imported at a cost akin to fuel.



On the last evening we rolled in to Kalgoorlie amidst a spectacular lightning storm (which made the tour of the open mine impossible more is the pity) and I wandered leisurely out for a look at the historic town and after a quick trip to the supermarket scuttled nervously back to the train after considering all those pubs, men and utes. Here is the cloud thunderhead that flashed and forked as darkness fell...



A last night's sleep in a bed that seemed the safest in the world and we arrived in east perth on tuesday morning. The whole experience was reminiscent of sailing off the west coast of scotland in terms of the gentle pace, the long periods of inactivity and the opportunity to ponder as the world drifts by. It was a great way to leave, especially when the preceding weeks were filled with au revoirs et adieus. A good way to catch up with myself and all of the last four years. And it may be the beginning of something else - next time the tran siberian railway or one of india's great train journeys or the train through the Rockies. Who can say.

Itinerary

My six months are up. And this is about to become about all sorts of places, and none of them Melbourne. I have no idea how much I'll get to post in the next three months as I travel back to the UK. I hope I'll be able to get a few photos and stories up, but just in case I don't here is where I'll be..

Friday 16th April - Fly to Sydney
Sat 17th April - Take train to Perth
Tues 20th April - Arrive Perth and Fly to Broome
Stay in Broome for 6 days and then travel back down to Perth via Ningaloo Reef
May 10th - Fly to Jo'burg and straight on to Cape Town
May 11th Arrive Cape Town and get picked up by Angela and Josh
I'm staying with them near Elim, near Hermanus, east of Cape Town for 7 weeks

here it is on google map...

http://maps.google.com.au/maps?utm_campaign=en_AU&utm_medium=ha&utm_source=en_AU-ha-apac-au-bk-gm&utm_term=google%20maps

July 3rd Fly from Cape Town to Heathrow
July 4th Arrive Heathrow and head to Susan's near Haywards Heath for a week
then buy a car and drive up to Scotland.

It's exciting to be going travelling, but there is alot I am going to miss - all the friends and party people, the coffee, the sushi, boost juices, my local street, the cute cafes, the trams and the easy public transport, going to the beach with the girls, the markets and the fine restaurants to name but a few. Oh, and the graffiti (the good stuff), the weatherboard houses, the birds which make funny noises, the hot air balloons at dawn over the station, possums from the balcony and the wierd and wonderful folk who wander about.

I am going to cram as much as I can in this week to keep me going.

Two weeks in Australia – Week 2

Now then, where were we….

Day 8. We went back to DOV on Victoria Street for breakfast and then it was time for our flight to Melbourne. After tea the boys headed off to St Kilda Bowls Club to watch the Melbourne Victory Game and drink beer (Tony never looked happier) while Ish and I pottered around and had some much needed downtime.

Day 9. A late start and then off to see the Ron Mueck exhibit with it’s incredibly lifelike people in all sorts of crazy shapes and sizes. Ish refused to have her picture taken next to the giant naked man (here with me and tony - all the giants)



so here she is with the little people...



After the exhibit we headed to Melbourne’s funky bar scene – old favourite Madame Brussels – a very sweet rooftop bar, all fine white metal garden furniture and fake grass. We drank some bubbles and beer in honour of Johanna’s birthday and then headed to Red Pepper Indian restaurant at the top of Bourke Street for a ten dollar curry. I accidentally ate Ish’s butter chicken, but she magnanimously said that my Chicken Tikka hit her spot. Nan breads awesome, spinach curry awesome, tasty curries all in very different sauces awesome.

Day 10. We headed off to Healesville Sanctuary to see some local wildlife, picking up takeaway coffee (scalding, burnt and bad) and sandwiches (cheese and egg frittata with salad and relish; spicy prosciutto and rocket and Meredith goats cheese all on homemade bread – all fab) at Fatto et Mano Italian bakery on Gertrude Street en route. We arrived at the Sanctuary in time for the platypus show (1pm), parrot show (130pm), birds of prey show (230 pm) and koala show (330pm). Non stop fun and in between times we checked out the Tasmanian devil trotting round and round and round in his pen (not sure if was busy or stressed), a huge wombat fast asleep on his back in the shade with legs outstretched, some nocturnal jumping mice, other big eyed night time creatures, a handful of kangaroos, emus, dingoes and an echidna. I think we got the complete set!



On the way back to the city we stopped off at the Healesville Hotel for a glass of local red, as we were too late for any of the wineries. Tea at home was followed by Craig and Tony heading off to the delights of the Balaclava Hotel, complete with it’s outdoor smoking area (cage) and local wildlife (punch up) and me introducing Ish to Sex and the City, Series 1, Episodes 1 – 4. She’d never seen it!

Day 11. A really nice brunch at MART, the old station house at Middle Park on the 96 route, with some very fine coffee and then we headed to South Melbourne Market (down the grand prix track for the missing jones sibling, ken)(here it is...)



for groceries, tat and a look around. Here's some fish at the mongers.



We popped in to Prahran Market on the way home for Japanese groceries at Fujimart too. It would have been wrong not to have a fritz gelato while we were there, you must agree. Then we lazed around awhile, Ish and I having a quick pedicure next door on Carlisle Street, then headed down to St Kilda Bowls Club for some beers in the sunshine. Some of us finished the night at Coneheads for some fries with salsa. I think that about captures our evening.

Day 12. The boys had a long lie and Ish and I wandered over to one of the parks on Inkerman to meet a friend and his wee one. ‘Discovered’ Little Captain café, which everyone else seems to know about already. Delightful café backing on to the park. All slimline old wood frame, glass front cabinets, beach umbrellas and tasty home made produce. Definitely have to go back there. On Saturday afternoon we had a good old Aussie barbeque and invited folk round for beer. I say good old Aussie barbeque – there was certainly a BBQ there – the food was distinctly more Japanese with sushi, teriyaki lamb and a plum wine cocktail. Ish had her second bit of sushi and it was EEL! Not sure I saw Tony touch it mind you. Here's the sushi we made on sunday, as it was so pretty...



Day 13. We took Ish and Tony along to Craig’s niece’s first birthday party – out on the lawns at Ripponlea Estate. Craig and I had a quick trip around the gardens while we were there and they are beautiful – swimming pool with changing rooms could have been straight off the set of High Society, charming rose and dahlia gardens and a huge rust red curved metal fernery. After the party we took it easy and recharged our batteries for karaoke at KBox in the city, where you have your own private room, mirror ball, huge telly and 2 microphones. Ish was a natural and sang with great gusto, Mark’s Sweet Caroline was perfect karaoke, Craig made our ears bleed and despite his earlier denials, even Tony joined in. Might have been the sake. Ish got shirty when the folk didn’t let on we could have stayed on till 1am having paid for 3 hours, so we got her a mcdonalds to calm her down and then home. Thanks for organising Shalini, and when are we going back?



Day 14. Ish and Tony’s last day and it was a lovely sunny one. We popped in to town for the last presents and had brunch at Desgraves Espresso. As good a coffee at the finish as at the start. Then we headed down to Black Rock and lazed in the sun (and Tony below a beach umbrella) for a couple of hours. What looked like a bit of wake on the water turned out to be dolphins – and plenty of them – rolling past on the calmest, glassiest water. The jelly fish didn’t put Ish off going in but a huge one had me turning quickly to shore. After heading home for a beer on the balcony we finished the week with pizza outside at the Stokehouse on St Kilda Beach as the sun went down.



Jolly tasty pizza it was and jolly tasty too my pork schnitzel with a fresh cabbage and apple coleslaw and a lemon aioli. Then showers, bags packed and off to the airport.

Highlights of the week were the absolute fun of everyone singing at karaoke, the dolphins at Black Rock and the fact that I got to do it all with Ish and Tony.
Good effort for coming all this way and for being up for everything I planned and suggested.

Two weeks in Australia - Week 1

I haven't been home for any length of time in the last couple of weeks, with finishing work, my brother and sister visiting, gadding about the country and a few parties. I thought unemployment would bring plenty of free time for blogging, but there is just too much fun to be had.

To make up for two lost weeks i though I'd give you our itinerary for the last two weeks - what you could do with two weeks in Australia. Here is Part 1. We did alright!

Day 1. Tuesday. First Melbourne coffee at Los Chicas on Carlisle Street (it was delightful to go when it was quiet - I'm never going on a weekend again). And a pretty fine pretty coffee it was too.



Checked out Federation Square. Visited tourist info and admired tat. Had lunch with passing friends at EQ Bar, Southbank. Ish had her first ever calamari and the waitress give us money off the bill for a couple of Richmond smokes (she was Welsh). Riverboat cruise on little riverboat Grower round to the Etihad Stadium and back. Walk along Southbank past the casino and 112 tram to St Kilda for a very blowy walk along the beach, before retiring home for a beer on the balcony. Train in to city (the day just kept on giving) to Hotel Carlton on Bourke Street for a cocktail before heading up to Chinatown for Pork Dumplings, Pork Bun Chilli Mud Crab and a mountain of food besides. Home.

Day 2. Flight to Hamilton Island - worth it just to land at the one runway airport jutting out in to the paradise blue water. 100 metre walk to the ferry to Airlie Beach.



Checked in and had lunch in the town and a wander followed by a bit of salad shopping and a dip in the hotel pool (it was a 1 in2 gradient climb to the hotel in 30 odd degrees) and a quiet night in with a DVD.

Day 3. Kicked back at the Lagoon, had a smoothie and a panini for lunch in a local cafe, booked our reef trip and had an afternoon nap. Headed down to the Airlie Beach Sailing Club for tea (their version of the RSL I'd guess) (it was poker night) and had the best chicken parma (perfect combination of light crisp batter, tomatoey sauce and cheesey goodness) with a glass of wine and a beer looking over the ocean. It looks like it was too big, but it wasn't.



Day 4. Fast boat out to the the Whitsunday Islands for a snorkel over reef fringes (Ish's first snorkel and my first jump off the side of a boat - accompanied by a completely unexpected and unstoppable scream). The water was a little cloudy from recent rain, but there was coral and there were colourful fishes.



Then on to Whitehaven Beach past the famous sandy inlet (which wasn't sandy swirly as usual because of the rain) (one of the five most photographed sights in Australia along with the Opera House, Uluru, the Blue Mountains and the Twelve Apostles - which means Tony is only missing the last off his list - next trip) for lunch at the beach, with a few friendly goannas dropping by for tit bits. Fast trip home with doughnuts served on route and then down the the local seafood and rum bar (could be messy, but we weren't) for fresh barbequed calamari and snapper.

Day 5. Cleared out of our hotel and took the ferry back to Hamilton Island (Ish the only person lying out on the sun deck) for our flight to Sydney. Checked in to serviced apartments in Potts Point - ninth floor room with wide panormaic view of the city, harbour bridge, opera house and harbour. Had a wee wine chez Jacqui, then old school italian food at Chez Roma and then a couple of bevvies. And a couple more. And some of us a couple more...



Day 6. Breakfast at DOV on Victoria Street, Potts Point then walk down to Woollomoroo, through the Botanics, to the Opera House, Circular Quay (with a bit of souvenir shopping en route) and the Rocks where we ate our chips whilst watching the man on a bike on a pole juggling with a lit flame and a knife whilst eating an apple.



Then on to the Harbour Bridge via the Rocks Market and back round to the Heroes of Wellington pub - a really old pub where an old lady in a pink jumper played trumpet in a jazz band. Not the oldest pub in Australia as we were otherwise informed. Just a famous old pub. Back through the market with our corn on the cob and all the way back to the killer steps back to Jacqui's apartment. The wee one was asleep on the sofa by then but she dragged her ass off of it and took us to the Tropicana cafe (home of Tropfest film festival) for some tea. God Bless Her.

Day 7. The Queen Mary had docked at midnight so we headed back down to the wharf for a quick look at her massive bulk before cabbing it to Bondi Beach for our morning coffee. Then we walked around the cliff walk to Bronte (lunch consisted of sushi - me; salad sandwich - tony; massive burger - Ish) and on to Clovelly (past a very fine cliff top bowls club) (photos for you bowling boys)



(and an even finer swimming inlet) and Coogee, where we put our feet up and let Tony read the paper a while. Then it was off for Japanese food (Ish's first ever sushi -and yes it was the raw fish version) and a night cap of some frozen yoghurt at Woo Moo or Moo Coo or whatever the place with the cow on the ceiling is called.

So that was the week that was week 1. The highlight of week 1 (for me) was definitely jumping off a boat with Ish and going snorkelling together. She's a game girl! Plenty more highlights to follow in Week 2...