Camping in Victoria

Monday 11^th Jan - Day 203

It is 2.00 a.m and we are in the tent. There is a strange sound outside which sounds vaguely like rain falling but nothing is landing on the tent. I have a look outside and see that it is only the site maintenance team (about 50 large kangaroos) that are plucking up the longer tufts of grass and converting them into small black cylinders.

We are about 150 miles north-west of Melbourne. It is hot – 29 degrees today - and perfect for camping. The camp is full of wildlife - white cockatoos (correllas) who run the site, red and blue parrots that seem to be in charge but only until the correllas swarm in and take over.

There are thousands of butterflies – but only three different species as far as I can tell.

Our camp site is just outside Halls Gap in the Grampians, a small group of mountains that rise up to about 4000ft. We are five days in to our first stint of camping having bought about £200 worth of camping gear. We hired a car and drove west from Melbourne along the Great Ocean Road. With some trepidation as we had not camped for about 8 years and then only in very warm conditions in the south of France. We were uncertain as to whether our old bones would cope.

Our first night was very frustrating as every camp-site in Torquay (yes you will recognise a few place names) was full and we ended up in a cabin. It turned out to be a good decision as the cabin was very good and it gave us a chance to sort out our 'gear'. Torquay is the surfing capital of the world' – almost all Australian towns have some claim to fame such as this. For example, Kojunnup in West Australia was the 'first shire to have 1 million sheep'. Anyway, Torquay boasts the invention of the wet suit – I bet you didn't know that. Intriguingly, the inhabitants – as represented at the local supermarket – hardly looked like surfers. More like bouyancy aids.

Along the coast a little, past Anglesey, is the Cape Otway State Park where we found a very isolated site – just a few cabins and tents and a lot of Koalas in the trees above us.

Bimbi Camp Site

Koala on Beach

We also managed to do some hiking. A 12km walk along part of the Great Ocean Walk took us up to Airlie Inlet (not at all like coastal paths in the UK but very pleasant).

Airlie Inlet

We saw only one small snake – although other walkers said they had seen a big 'red belly' (I don't know what that is either but it sounds worrying). However, the national statistics show only a handful of deaths through snake bites in the last decade so it is hardly a big risk.

Port Campbell on the Great Ocean Road

Our journey along the coast took us past the 12 Apostles. These 13 (?) limestone stacks, isolated from the cliffs as the cliffs erode, are an outstanding visual experience. As ever, the photos can't really so it justice but give a flavour of what you see.

Our first full day here in the Grampians has been so good that we have booked two more nights. We hiked up to The Pinnacle this morning – setting off early before the sun was too strong. Stunning views but the walk up the creek to the top was equally spectacular. Every bit as good as walking in

Yosemite – and apart from the view point at the top, which is near a car park, equally empty.

The Pinnacle in the Grampians

18^th January

After another wonderful hike up Mount Rosea we moved on from the Grampians. We were pretty exhausted by the temperature at the end of the walk – 38 degrees – and a state-wide fire ban, with advice not to hike in the bush persuaded us to move on.

Mount Rosea

Fire is an ever present danger here although it is an essential feature in the life cycle of the forests. The Grampians were devastated by fire only 3 years ago yet the forest is once again full of large healthy trees. The nature of the eucalypts is such that the bark is burnt but the inner core of the tree survives and new limbs grow rapidly from the old trunk. Some trees do die in the fire but this only gives more light to these remaining.

Our journey to Castlemaine (no evidence of the 4X brewery if it ever existed), took us through Moyleston, a small town of about 200 people but with the claim to fame of being the birth place of Aussie Rules Football. In Maryborough the car's temperature gauge reached 44 degrees. Contrary to popular belief it is not just the English that state the obvious regarding the weather. Australians rarely miss a chance to tell you that 'it's a hot one today' even though the perspiration is running down your neck. We decided to an air conditioned cabin. Ours is more camping for softies with a limited range of suitable climatic conditions that exclude ridiculously high temperatures

We are now back in the hills but this time the Yarra Range north-east of Melbourne, and now with a campervan that we have rented for a week.

We have this fantasy that we might one day buy a campervan back home and drive along country roads all over Europe at low speeds irritating all other road users, so we thought we might try it out here.

We are on our second night and so far it has been pretty good. Although our 'van is quite small (2 persons with toilet and shower) it has all the essentials and thankfully we have not yet experience any campervan culture in the campsites. Our fear was always that 'experienced' campervanners would share their concerns for 'the reciprocated stop valve used in the grey-water by-pass system' (or something equally boring)

19th January

Today we reached Maryville and Lake Mountain high up in the Yarra Ranges. Wonderful butterflies, exceptional views. This whole area is the water catchment for Melbourne and closed tot he public - except for a few access road and trails.

Tasmania

Tasmania


For the benefit of non-Australian readers we ought to start by explainng that inhabitants of Tasmania are called Taswegians and have two heads. There are endless jokes about Tasmania which are akin to the jokes about Wales or Forest of Dean in England, many of you may know.


Don emigrated to Tassie as a £10 Pom in 1947. We spent the two weeks being enchanted by the stories of his life the in the 50s and 60s with tales of daring-do - shooting crocodiles and kangaroos for a living, of cutting sugar cane in Queensland and all sorts of outback adventures that seemed to be around for young men of that time. With Gaelene, his wife, he bought some land, partially cleared it of forest and set up a small bush farm, and the tales of managing a small farm also brought with it tales of outback living that would make both a good novel and a film.

Until they retired a few years ago, swapping the farm for a delightful modern house, they pumped their own water from a stream, generated their own electricity, raised various livestock depending on the vagaries of the market and were self-sufficient in a way that would probably be the envy of many, although the realities of the life were that it was 'bloody hard work'. We never ceased to enjoy the tales and hope that one day Don will record them.
With “the rellies” we had a traditional Christmas with a full roast dinner on Christmas Day (Gae's cooking is legendary) - and all the trimmings of a northern hemisphere Christmas with the addition of sunshine. Boxing Day was spent at the local sports carnival where the events were running, cycling and wood-chopping.



















Wood chopping

I can't see the latter becoming an Olympic event, but it was impressive to see just how quickly those fellas could cut through a tree trunk with an axe.





















The Boxing Day Carnival in Latrobe

We toured round parts of Tasmania that we had not previously visited.




















Dismal Swamp





















Penguin - yes, that really is the name of a town





















The Nut at Stanley


The countryside is incredibly pretty, very different from any other parts of Australia that we know, and described as “English”. It is more like England but still very different. The crops are different. We saw fields of opium poppies being grown legally for heroin and morphine production - a major Tasmanian export - as well as pyrethrum for manufacturing pesticide, alongside the fields of cereal and dairy land.



















Alum Gorge


But Tasmania is famous for its trees and we spent some time learning more about trees and forestry from Don, who had also been a logger and tree plantation manager for much of his life. There is a lot of controversy about the development of blue gum plantations to provide wood chips for paper. However when you see some of the magnificent old eucalypts and old Huon pines it is awe-inspiring and we enjoyed some good bush walking through old woodlands.





















Virgin forest in the Huon Valley


The English theme continues with place names – we went to Lulworth for New Years Day, having stayed at Margate the day before, and sailing home from Devonport, up the Mersey river. We also visited Weymouth, Bridport and Launceston. There must have been many homesick emigrees in the early days.





















Richmond Bridge

We managed to get to Hobart and have a look at the boats from the famous Sydney to Hobart ocean race – another sporting event not covered by British TV.





















Wild Oats XI - the race winner


We also visited the Taste of Tasmania - a festival of tasmanian food and drink (yummy)




















'Taste of Tasmania'

And we watched a lot of sport covered by Australian TV, notably the Australian v South Africa Test match for cricket. As this is being written Australia is 2 down in the series and there is a huge national debate about whether to sack the captain, or whether the selectors are to blame for the teams poor performance and whether more money should be invested in cricket academies; it has felt just like home, but is an experience that Australians are not used to.





















We sailed back to Melbourne on the Spirit of Tasmania somewhat heavier than on our outward trip but recharged for new adventures in the outback of Victoria and New South Wales.

Adelaide to Melbourne

Adelaide to Melbourne

We woke up on our train to see a flat blonde countryside – the pale wheat in the huge fields stretched on for miles with no trees or houses in sight. the land looked parched. The sky hung a silvery grey above it. We arrived in Adelaide along with the rain. This was the first rain in South Australia for 9 months – and we, the rain gods, had brought it. And it rained and rained – over 25mm – until the drains could no longer cope and the roads flooded. (We found out the next day that the average December rainfall was 26mm).

Dodging between shops,museums and the library we managed to limit our exposure but it was difficult to agree when people said what wonderful weather it was and how they hoped it would continue for the next few days. Eventually we picked up our hire car and drove around the wet city exploring romantic places such as Hackney and Stepney which did not much resemble their London namesakes.



















Not like the Hackney Jeff remembers as a boy


The rain stopped by the next morning and out came the sun.



















The riverside walk in Adelaide





















An aboriginal painting session in the park

Adelaide is a truly beautiful city, with the centre surrounded by parks – 47% of the city is parkland. Traffic is light, the roads are wide and the city has a feeling of grace about it. On the Saturday, a week before Christmas the shopping district was less crowded than Cirencester on a Saturday morning. The city is also surrounded by wonderful hills, only 15 minutes away.




















The view from Mount Lofty

The Adelaide Hills are gently rolling countryside, devoid of towns of any significance and adorned with vineyards, farms, forest and the odd lake.

We then took off to explore the Fleurieu peninsula. this is a small tongue of land which is gentle hills and woodlands. From a distance the hills look as if they are made from quilted velvet – soft and pale silvery brown. (The land still desperately needed more rain.) Our meandering down the coast led us eventually to Victor Harbor. Our friends had told us to keep away from here as it was 'like Blackpool'.



















Victor Harbor (1)






















Victor Harbor (2)


With its gorgeous beach, brilliant sunshine, and quaint 'Australian Small Town' feel it is hard to imagine how anyone could see Blackpool here. Anyway there was no tower. We were so taken by the place that we decided to spend a few days there.
We hired bikes and cycled along the 35km Encounter Bay cycle track to Goolwa at the mouth of the Murray River.



















Victor Harbor - Encounter Bay (Blackpool?)

Encounter Bay is named after an historic meeting between Flinders and Baudin (two famous explorers) who met on the Bluff' at one end of the bay. We failed to find out what they said or did, or why it was important, but Australians have a habit of attaching significance to such things.
After a lot of walking and exploring the area we left feeling that is was a delightful town and well worth the visit.
We returned to Adelaide to resume our roles as 'travellers' again, this time on the Overlander train to Melbourne. This is only 12 hours (see how our perceptions of train journeys has changed since we left England?). The train was the best we have been on. We had been told to arrive 70 minutes to book in because it was a 'big train' being near to Christmas. If four carriages and a restaurant car is big, what is the normal train like? (Meg suggests that the Kemble Rail Users Group needs to know this – they would be superheros in Australia).
The journey begins with a very slow climb up out of Adelaide through the forested hills which is like being on a tree-top walk- looking down through the trees to the valley below. You then pass through rolling farmland towards the Murray River. This country is BIG - mile after mile of farmland, small towns, and the occasional level crossing. Intermittent announcements on the p.a. system draw your attention to key tourist information such as the WW2 oil storage tanks, or the towns in which Australian Premiers Sir Robert Menzies and Bob Hawke grew up, and the largest wind farm in the Southern Hemisphere, all delivered in an almost reverential manner. There was one town where the line goes up a slight incline and, years ago, the local youths covered the rails with boot polish. The train lost grip and eventually had to stop. The youths got beaten by their parents not for stopping the train for a day, but for using up all the town's supply of boot polish.




















View from the train


If we liked Adelaide, we loved Melbourne. With unbroken sunshine throughout our three days, we walked everywhere. The buildings are majestic. The 19th Century originals built from stone are intermixed with elegant modern designs, some towering high above the city. The city is set on the Yarra River with sports arenas and lovely parks to the east, and recently developed docklands to the west. There is a Southbank arts centre, and shops, restaurants and cafes abound. A bit like London but smaller, smarter, and sunnier!

We will return to Melbourne in the new year – something we will look forward to.

The Nullarbor

From Perth to Adelaide

The train journey on the India pacific from Perth to Adelaide is one of the great railway journeys of the world It is the only way to see the Nullarbor desert. This enormous plain is inaccessible by sealed road and even the Eyre highway from Perth to Adelaide only skirts the bottom of the Nullarbor Plain.

The journey starts at East Perth station which must be one of the ugliest buildings in the whole city. The full train is about 25 coaches with various grades of traveller – gold, red-sleeper and red non-sleeper. Gold is quite luxurious with two berth compartments and all meals provided while red-sleeper (ours) is quite comfortable but the sleeping accommodation is “compact" and you eat as you need to in the dining car. Non-sleeper tickets are much cheaper but it would be an ordeal to sleep in the seats for two nights that is best avoided if you can afford it.

[Actually the red sleeper is a miracle of modern engineering. It is amazing that it is possible to fit two full size bunks, two small lockers, a washbasin, storage rack into a space measuring two metres by 1.5 metres. Unfortunately they seemed to have forgotten that you also need to put people into that space as well. Luckily we are not too fat. ]

The Indian-Pacific in Perth

We leave at mid-day and the train trundles slowly along the Swan valley, which then becomes the Avon Valley as it rises up onto the ridge of the Darling Range east of Perth. You travel through wooded hillsides until you reach the plain at Northam where the landscape changes into wheatfields bounded by small shrubs and trees. These wheatfields were already harvested in some places but where you could see the full grown wheat it was surprisingly short and not very close packed. Compared with English wheat the yield must be tiny, but then there is so much land that it is no doubt still profitable.

We pass through several small 'towns' usually consisting of just a few homes and a grain storage depot where grain can be loaded onto the trains. The mountains of grain resemble the heaps of sand and gravel from the gravel beds near our home in Cirencester – created by conveyor belts with pointed tops. Road trains – trucks with two or three huge trailers – deliver the grain and are tipped up to ditch their load by the conveyors.

Meckering, Cunderlin, Tammin, Kellerberrin.... sometimes the train stops and we peer out of the window to see if we can identify the reason. Perhaps they are dropping off goods for the local community or we are waiting for the single track to clear ahead. The pace is very leisurely. We are tracking the Great Eastern Highway (a rather fancy name for an almost empty two-lane road) which we flirt with as it as it approaches the track and then moves away again. There is also the water pipe that was built around 1900 to supply water to the Goldfields at Kalgoorlie which doggedly hugs the road. This is a marvel of engineering carrying water 900km from a dam near Perth to a desert town, but without it Kalgoolie would not exist

The Kalgoolie pipeline

As we press on eastwards the landscape slowly changes and the wheat looks even shorter and more sparse. There is more scrub land and soon it is mainly small shrubs and small trees that dominate. By the time we reach Southern Cross - a tiny settlement but with big letters on the map – there is little evidence of farming of any sort.

Southern Cross

Although it is drier here we have been chasing some rain all journey and we finally catch up with it at this point. The track turns north away from the highway and passes through huge salt lakes, some of which are completely empty.

Salt lake in the distance

Salinity is a big problem in Australia. We have seen lakes like these close up and you can find huge salt crystals on the edges. After a while the direction resumes eastward towards Kalgoorlie

The place names on the map seem to have no physical counterparts – or if they do they are too small to recognise. Koolyanobbing, Darrine, Jourdi, Walleroo ... It begins to get dark and there is no light other than the setting sun and eventually we cannot see outside the train at all. At 9:50 we arrive in Kalgoorlie – a real frontier town that we remember well from a previous visit. It is still a major gold mining town with truck-loads of miners arriving on a Saturday night to spend their pay. There is a scheduled 3-hour stop here so we rush off to see if we can find somewhere that will still serve us a meal. Nearly everywhere is shut except for a couple of noisy pubs which we think we should avoid, but finally we find a pace that is open 24 hours and manage to fill our stomachs. Just as we leave the rain has caught up with us and there is a torrential downpour. The town has large storm drains, but the downpour is so voluminous that even these are overflowing. We try to wait it out under shelter but eventually we have to make a dash for the train and arrive soaked through. It is all rather ironic in a desert town short of water.

The next morning we wake up to see the Nullarbor under a dull, cloudy sky. There s no growth more than a couple of feet high and as we progress even these small shrubs gradually disappear. The land is completely flat with lots of stones sitting on the red sand and some very small shrubs. It is just wonderful. Emptiness for hundreds of kilometers in all directions (well only about 100km south before you reach the coast). There are no springs, lakes, streams rivers – no open water – in the Nullarbor; no trees, no shelter of any kind. And yet up until the railway was built, Aboriginal tries lived here.

In the middle of all this we stop at a 'station' at Forrest. This is an airstrip in the middle of nowhere at which large jet aircraft can land if they get into difficulties – it is the largest runway in Australia outside the major cities. The airstrip also serves as a refuelling point for light aircraft and is manned by two people. We stop to deliver their post.

This stretch of railway track is the longest straight track in the world. No curves, no cuttings, no bridges or tunnels, for 478km. We wonder why it is not smooth! The train bumps around like the old British Rail trains of our youth. But the railway was built by a British engineer of the same vintage so that might explain it.

Nurina Station - the view was the same on the other side of the track

The big event of the day is a one hour stop in Cook.

The locomotive at Cook

This was, until 1997, a small settlement of a couple of dozen houses including a school, swimming pool and a hospital. When the railways were privatised circumstances changed and the number of inhabitants has since dropped to four. There is a sign saying 'Save our hospital – get sick”. We emerge from the air-conditioned train into a dry heat of 32 degrees with completely the wrong clothing. Why the train is so cold I have not yet worked out but it has been the same on many other trains that we have travelled on. A strong wind is blowing the dust around and dried shrubs tumble around.

The children's playground at Cook

Whilst this train is not as sociable as some of the others we have been on, we still manage to meet people and listen to their various stories. There is Alex, aged 85 who explains the benefits of internet dating, except that the last woman he met died about a month after they went on holiday together; there is a young Finnish man who explains how he has done one degree in Finland but did not graduate so that he could do another degree in Perth, but not graduate so that he can commence a third degree in Edinburgh. We meet a couple from Yorkshire who have decided that reclining seats were not such a good bargain after all. Jeff manages to bore a couple of passengers by talking about global warming. We then catch up with the rain again and have the strange experience of seeing the Nullarbor covered in puddles.

The train's PA system congratulates us on having completed our traverse of the Nullarbor. Perhaps we will get a certificate. Despite having crossed the Nullarbor there is still another eighteen hour (i.e. another night of trying to get undressed in the smallest space imaginable – surely smaller than the NASA astronauts have to manage with) before we get to Adelaide.

After we emerge from the Nullarbor we see, on the north side of the track, the signs for the Woomera atomic bomb test site. This area is still radio-active but its OK because they put up warning signs every now and then to keep people out. (I'm not sure how the wildlife read these signs.)

Woomera - you can see the warning sign in the distance

We finally arrive in Adelaide - with the rain.

Albany to Adelaide

Albany

We lived in Albany for a year (97/98), so returning here was “coming home” in a sense. Right from the start things seemed familiar. Driving the 500km along the Albany Highway did not seem to have changed. There was still no traffic; from the edge of metropolitan Perth to the beginning of Albany we pass through three towns. Williams has a population of 1000, Kojonup has a population of 2000 and Mount Barker has a population of 2500. I think we saw about five cars going in the same direction as us. There is a lot of space in WA.

The town itself hardly seems to have changed (and the friends we left behind do not seem to have aged either). It is real small town Australia, with big wide streets and a laid back charm.


















York Street - the main street (view north)

















York Street (view south) on a Saturday afternoon

In the centre it has an old world feel (well for Australia) since many of the houses are early 20th century. The climate is described by West Australians as “cold and wet” but for us temperatures in the mid 20s and a very occasional shower were perfect. (I think we used our rain coats once). The setting is magnificent with granite hills and white sandy beaches set amid grey-green bush. We caught the end of the wildflowers, missed out on the whales who left about two months ago and decided that its still too cold to swim in the Southern Ocean. In Albany the next land to the south is Antarctica. Both the beaches and the bush are also empty – may be its because its still school term here, but even at weekends it would be rare to see more than a dozen people on the 3km long Middleton beach.

















Middleton beach

There are spectacular coastal and bush walks and that is how we spent much of our ten days whilst not socialising. We have had ten days of good meals with old friends, including Moray and Jenny with whom we swapped houses and jobs in that year away. In fact despite our intention of cooking for ourselves we found we only did that once.

We gradually re-acclimatised to Australia and now say things like “She'll be right” or “Stick it in the eskie mate”. However we still shudder when shop assistants say “Catch you later – or phonetically – “cadge yer lader” which brings out a desire to say in our best English accents “I'm so sorry we won't be around later to meet up with you”. We decided to consolidate the acclimatisation by going to the cinema to see the new Australian blockbuster, called “Australia” . Its billed as a big screen epic romance. However to us it seemed more like “Carry on up the Kimberley” rather than “Out of Africa”. I won't say its the worst film we have ever seen ... I could say something about turkeys at Christmas.

And yes we are running up to Christmas. We went to the Albany Christmas pageant, which contained floats with Surf Life Savers in their “bathers” (translates into English as swimming costume) and the Albany Philippino Club in their sarongs.



















Christmas pageant - led by olympic medallist



















Christmas pageant - scottish pipers (?!)
It was a warm evening, so we finished off with chilled glasses of alcohol – a very different experience from an English Advent Market.

We head back to Perth for a few days before setting off on another train journey – after being land based for so long we are missing the trains.

Here is a view from the boardwalk - just a little way out of town

Java to Australia

Tues November 13th: Day 42

We arrived in Tajung Priok at about 7 p.m. and found a taxi to take us into Jakarta. The half-hour journey was one of the most nerve-shattering rides of our lives and it is hard to dwell on without breaking into a cold sweat. But we did arrive at Gambir Station in one piece, this being the starting point for out train journey towards Bali.

Booking trains in Indonesia is much like booking ferries. You can't do this except from the station from which the journey starts. If the train is full you just have to book seats on the next one. Our train was full so this meant a night in Jakarta. Meg, ever enterprising had noticed an Ibis Hotel on the way in. I had my eyes closed by that time. So we got a taxi, asked for the Ibis and off we went. The driver began very slowly, not seeming to know where he was going, and then seems to come up with a plan. We discovered later that there are 3 Ibis hotels and he has chosen the most distant (well, why not?). This hotel was full. We eventually found somewhere nearby which was just perfect and felt very relieved. Jakarta is not the kind of place for two naive white tourists to be seen hiking their bags around after dark.

By morning the legacy of the ferry journey had reached Jeff's stomach. However, with tickets for the 'Exzecutif' class train (air con, reclining seats, etc) we thought we could cope. Although it was a 12-hour journey it was not as bad as it could have been and we saw a lot of the countryside and small villages en route. The train passes through the rice paddies and we have learned quite a bit about growing rice now. The flooding of the fields is mainly to keep down the pests. Unfortunately the flooding also increases the amount of methane produced and this is a potent greenhouse gas. Virtually all the work is done by hand - apparently there is very little mechanisation that can be used on small paddies such as the ones we saw.

We arrived in Surabaya somewhat the worse for wear and quickly found a hotel near the station for the next days train. Meg went off to but the tickets while Jeff positioned himself within easy reach of the toilet. It was 9 p.m. and the station was apparently locked, although there were signs of life on the other side of the track. Meg saw a security guard slip into the station through a locked gate (and not re-lock it). So undaunted, braving the jeers and cat-calls from taxi drivers, she let herself in the gate, crossed the track, found the station master and purchased tickets. Colonial'

officials are still apparently in awe of mem-sahibs. (And it says a lot about station security).

Surabiya from our hotel

This train turned out to be a class down from the previous one but was only 8 hours to Bunyawangi – the ferry terminal to Bali.

Surabiya station

The scenery across East Java is much more interesting and sometimes quite spectacular.

The train climbs slowly up over the hills, through thick vegetation, and there are some excellent views of the mountains in the distance.

It is clear that the people living here are very, very poor.

It was a great relief to get to the bus station and stretch our legs. We were crowded onto a small bus and driven off to the ferry. While waiting for the ferry to leave we watched kids swimming in the harbour next to the ship. Passengers were dropping 1000 Rp notes into the water (about 6p) and it was a bit like feeding the ducks as they all rushed to get there first.

More worrying was that we had noticed a large brown organic object floating in the same water just a few minutes before ...

Seeing the island of Bali ahead of us with the Sun setting, was quite magical.

There followed a three hour bus journey – now upgraded to a slightly larger coach (the ferry fee is less for a small bus) through the dark to Denpasar, the main town on Bali. Without a toilet and without stopping this is something you needed to prepare for but we have learnt the ropes now.

We arrived at our hotel in Sanur at 10 p.m. and felt we had at last reached somewhere 'safe' where we could sleep, eat and rest without needing to look over our shoulders all the time. The hotel was excellent and after three days our wobbly tummies had pretty much settled.

Our stay in Bali was divided into two parts with three days by the coast and four up in the hills at Ubud. This turned out to be a good choice. Ubud is completely different and gives a much better insight into Bali life than the more touristy coastal resorts. We explored Ubud on foot and then took a 'tour' which involved a trip to the volcanic area where you get above the clouds and can see the various craters. Gunung Agung is the highest point in Bali and is an active volcano and this was easily visible in the distance.

View of the volcano

Our tour then provided us with mountain bikes and a downhill ride of some 40 km.

With only four on the tour (plus our guide, Made) we descended via back roads through villages and farms, and he was able to answer virtually every question we had – really good value. We saw a school – and went inside to meet the pupils on their lunch break – and stopped at a 'typical' Bali house complete with its temples (all Bali houses have temples!).

After about 10 km of descent the heavens opened and we continued through some of the heaviest rain we have ever experienced. But the rain was warm and once you are completely wet it no longer matters, so we continued along roads that became rivers until we reached the steepest parts. Without any functional brakes these were impossible to ride down so we walked (through the ankle-deep water). It was great fun but nice when we finally stopped.

A Bali Village School

Ridge walk in Ubud

One evening we met an English couple, Geoff and Sue, who had been travelling for some weeks around Indonesia. Their story confirmed, and reinforced, our view that Indonesia is not really a place for the inexperienced 'mature traveller'. Sue had contracted Dengue fever early on and how she had coped so well was a mystery to us. We would both have run for home. On our last day in Bali we shared a car with our new friends and toured the north of the Island.

Wild monkeys

And so on Saturday 22^nd November we took our flight from Denpasar to Perth just 52 days after leaving Cirencester. We stayed with friends where fine wine, good food (not a grain of rice in sight) and sunshine reminded us of why we wanted to come to Australia. There followed three wonderful days on our friends' farm in Nannup where we worked on the vines, planted trees (and were re-aquainted with Australian flies). Jeff even got to drive the Landrover. And whilst we ate breakfast we watched the kangaroos and listened to kookaburras.

The farm.

After a good rest and back in Perth, we were once more overwhelmed with the beauty of this city and the friendliness of its inhabitants.

Perth from ferry

The light in WA is of amazing clarity and everything is sharp, and vivid, with the colours perfect for an artist's palate. We walked around grinning from ear to ear, almost unable to believer our luck in just being here. Just looking at the sea overwhelms us, the white of the sand against the aquamarine sea .... this sounds like a travel ad.

After a few days we drove down south to Albany where we lived for a year back in 1997/8. There followed 10 days of catching up with friends, visiting old haunts and plenty of exercise and good food.

View from Mt Clarence.

Albany is a town of about 20,000 inhabitants which serves an enormous rural farming area and provides the port facilities for exporting woodchips and logs. It has wonderful natural beauty and is somewhere well worth visiting if you ever reach W.A. We love the place and would happily live here.

Little beach