Goodbye to Australia

Our Car Dies

Hiring an 18-year-old car was always going to be a risk and perhaps we should be pleased that we managed nearly 5000km of trouble-free motoring. We had grown fond of the car – and of Michael, the car's owner.

Our journey had taken us through many places that would have been far worse to break down in than Bermagui – a beautiful small seaside town with a lovely little harbour, safe swimming and great walks.

The coast near Bermagui

Our radiator sprang a leak on the way into town from our campsite about 4km away. We had come in for the Summer Seaside Festival which consisted of a parade and a large number of stalls on the town's oval (playing field for Aussie Rules football).

Tense anticipation of the parade

We bought some stuff to try to fix up the leak and went off to watch the parade while it set. There is something wonderful about small town Australia. The Australian 'can-do' spirit is always very evident. This event had all the hallmarks of a village fête but done Aussie style. In contrast to the Sydney Mardi Gras the previous week, this parade was opened by a group of pupils from the aboriginal pre-school and included the local fire brigade, and the Soldiers Club Pipers (kilts and bagpipes and all).

The 'Scottish' Pipers

In fact it was hardly a parade – more an amble along the main street by a disparate set of organisations, but drawing warm appreciation from the crowd.

Unfortunately for the car, the adhesive didn't work so we searched the town for a garage / workshop - there was only one, but closed on Saturday. So we enjoyed the rest of the day and eventually returned to our camp cabin. Since nothing could be done until Monday we went for some walks near the camp, enjoyed the sunshine and made use of the camp pool.

The coastline near Wallaga Lake

Camel Rock

A phone call to Michael revealed that he was off on holiday and he suggested that we do our best to get the car repaired ...

Oh well, we did our best. We managed to get Conrad, the local mechanic, to come and check out the car. He confirmed that the car's condition was terminal – the cylinder head gasket had blown. We had the car towed to the local garage where Conrad performed the last rites (removal of the tax document and number plates).

We bid farewell

As with the best undertakers this was all done with great sensitivity for the feelings of the bereaved. After a short period of mourning we set about sorting out how to get out of Bermagui.

The recent morning temperatures and shorter days had suggested that our tenting days were numbered and that this was a good time to give away all our camping gear.

Deciding what we can carry (on the left)

A local resident in the camp site offered to take it all, with the promise that it would be of use to a scout group in Nowra. So,with baggage suitably down-sized (although still including 32 books) we felt able to carry it, and relocated to town. We discovered that there was a daily bus connecting with a train to Melbourne (amazing!) but it left at 6:20 a.m. from a town 20 km away. The early morning taxi cost nearly as much as the bus ticket but we made it, although the taxi driver had no idea where the bus stopped. It was somewhat surreal standing in the dark in a completely empty town wondering where to wait.

But it did arrive, and on time, and after a 6-hour bus journey and 4 hours on the train we finally arrived in Melbourne in wonderful sunshine. It was good to be back.

Wednesday 18th March - Jeff's Birthday – and, after a night in a pretty awful motel in Footscray, both of us felt somewhat in need of a 'comfort blanket'. The hire company's replacement car was not really what we wanted and we decided to hire a real car from Budget. This had comfortable seats, everything worked and you could hold a conversation while the engine was running. With spirits lifted, we headed for the Mornington Peninsula towards Portsea. The sun came out and the temperature soared, and we decided that a 'nice hotel' with a bath would be just the ticket. We booked somewhere through the local tourist information office and arrived to find the place really luxurious with spa bath, a large room with satellite t.v., and internet in the room – all the luxuries of life! You may not think this to be a big deal but we haven't seen a real bath for months – only showers.

Nepean Poinr. Just another wonderful beach

... and another

... and another.

After three days of pampering ourselves, we returned to our 'familiar' hotel in Melbourne, the George Powlett Apartments. Situated only about 10 minutes walk from the city centre, it provides all that we need at a very reasonable price. It's our fourth stay here. It was lovely to wander the Melbourne streets and take in the atmosphere. It was the Greek festival weekend and some of the streets had been closed to traffic, stalls set out and Greek restaurants overspilling into the road. Apparently Melbourne's Greek population is second in number only to Athens. Eating souvlaki in the street amongst crowds of Greeks you could indeed feel you were in a Greek town.

Our last few days were somewhat tense – cargo ship trouble again. The ship had originally been due to depart on 20th March, but over the months in Australia we learned that it was running more and more behind schedule. We checked in regularly to be sure we would be in the right place at the right time, and the 26th March kept being confirmed as departure day. Everything was arranged around that. Until on 24th we heard that it would be the 27th March. After these months of travelling, that should have been an easy problem for the Blumsoms to resolve – simply book a room for another night. But 26th March also sees the start of the Australian Grand Prix in Melbourne, with 90,000 people expected to visit the city, all of whom have pre-booked all the available accommodation months ago. Luckily Meg's negotiation skills came in handy. There is a very long tale about how the shipping agent got hold of the captain in the middle of the night, but the outcome of the story is that we were allowed to board on 26th March. The alternative was to have slept in the Seafarers Refuge, which might have been an interesting experience.

We hired bikes, and cycled the wonderful Yarra Valley, noting how summer in Australia was turning to autumn, just in time for Easter. We planned our activities for the cargo ship. Twenty three days out of contact with no television/radio; we figured we needed plenty of books and visited loads of secondhand book shops (including the University bookshops for Jeff to buy maths books); we bought sketching pads and paints (Meg) and a kind friend had sent a tapestry set to keep her occupied. And as a luxury – a key board for our lap top; the luxury not being the cost, but how much we could carry.

We will be out of email contact until 19th April, when we land in Ensenada Mexico. So Happy Easter

PS Megs plan to buy Easter Eggs was fooled, we are not allowed to take food on board the ship with us!

PPS – we are sending this blog on 25th March – and just in case ... we still haven't cancelled our bedspaces (one single bed and a mattress on the floor) at the Seafarers refuge.

Sydney, the Blue Mountains and the South Coast

We returned to Sydney on Tuesday 3rd March. On our arrival we discovered that our cargo ship from Montreal to Liverpool had fallen through. This meant a significant change of plans as Meg had now committed herself to being back for mid-May (she is going to Turkey for three weeks to help set up a Probation Service). The news came like a bomb shell and we spent a lot of time trying to sort out what options we had. We could not find an alternative cargo ship – it had been difficult to find a ship for this leg of the journey - and so our choices were either the Queen Mary or flying across the Atlantic.

The Queen Mary looked possible. There is a voyage leaving at the right time and it's actually cheaper than a cargo ship. We would need some clothes as our current wardrobe could hardly be described as 'formal'. The prospect of Jeff having to wear a tie and jacket just to be allowed to eat his dinner was almost the worst aspect of the trip. It would accomplish something that thirty years of head teachers had failed to do. However, after some searching on the internet we discovered that the carbon footprint for a passenger on a cruise ship is about twice that for the equivalent flight – as well as having many other detrimental effects on the environment.
This really only leaves the option of flying – something that we are not at all happy with. The carbon footprint for a transatlantic flight would still leave us within budget (carbon that is) but only just. And it really goes against the grain. But with no other options we have decided to fly. It just shows how difficult low carbon travel is.

The purpose for our return to Sydney was to take in a performance of the Magic Flute at the Opera House. We used the excuse of my birthday to justify the costs. We have now bought each other Christmas and birthday presents for the next few years and this was mine for 2010. it was quite magical to stand on the terrace of the Opera House with our interval drinks, looking across the water at all the lights. There is surely no lovelier concert venue anywhere in the world.
We also did some walking along the coast from Coogie Beach to Bondi Beach.

Coogie Beach, Sydney

Bondi Beach, Sydney

Our visit to Sydney also coincided with the Mardi Gras parade – the biggest gay and lesbian 'show' in the world. This was quite a spectacle, starting with the 'dikes on bikes' ...

'Dikes on Bikes'

and then an extraordinary number of floats and marchers from the ordinary to the most outrageous. An event with a huge number of scantily clad men (note from Jeff – there were scantily clad women as well) could never have taken place on an evening in autumn in London.

The Parade

It was great fun to see so many people exuberantly enjoying themselves. It is a tribute to the city to hold such an event which appeared to pass of with good humour and no trouble. We didn't go on to the "Sleaze Ball" afterwards – we had nothing suitable to wear.
And then off to the Blue Mountains for some more hiking. Three days, each with a most spectacular walk. Each walk involved a climb down into the canyon and then through the rain forest before ascending to the plateau again. The mountains are a plateau about 1200 m above sea level. So the walk down to the valley involved a lot of steps. We did not count them on the way down, but counted 1239 steps on the way up.

The Three Sisters, Blue Mountains

The Three Sisters, Blue Mountains (2)

View over Blue Mountains, Nr Echo Point

Wentworth Falls

Nr Wentworth Falls

We have seen some remarkable places but the views here are in a class of their own. This must be one of the most beautiful places on the planet. If you ever visit Sydney don't leave without a trip to this area, only 90 minutes form the centre of the City.

We left the Blue Mountains on a wet, misty morning which made us feel th we had made a good decision. The rain stopped and day brightened as we hit the coast and headed south to ovenight at Shoalhaven Heads. From there to Hyams Bay where we stayed with a couple of kayakers we had met further up the coast. We decided long ago that we would always try to say 'yes' to any opportunities that came our way and so we readily accepted their offer of a place to stay. It turned out to be a really rewarding experience and when we left the next morning we felt we had made new friends.

Remarkable trees, Jervis Bay

The weather over these past few days has been very good for walking – not too sunny but quite warm – and the threatened rain did not materialise. We walked up Pigeon House mountain. Pigeon House is classified as a 'hard' walk as the last part is a matter of climbing about 50 metres of metal ladders, so we did feel a sense of achievement.

View from Pigeon House Mountain

However, when we arrived at the top we met up with 65 ten-year old kids, most of whom seemed to be bouncing around as though they had arrived at a playgound (that should provide some sense of perspective)

The kids at the top ...

Depot Beach

We then retraced our steps down the coast, via Moruya where, amazingly, we ran into Rudi who we had stayed with on the way up the coast. He mentioned that there was a festival at Bermagui so we decided to head off there for the weekend.

And there the car's radiator sprang a leak. This problem still has to be resolved - so in the meantime we are stranded in Bermagui ...

Brisbane back to Sydney

Anxious to get some good walks under our belt we set off for Mount Warning – a hike we missed out on the way north because of the rain. Mt. Warning is the remains of the central plug of a 20 million year old volcano, surrounded by an enormous caldera, reputedly one of the finest examples in the world. The drive through this area was one of the best of our trip.

The climb is described as 'strenuous'. We have found that tourist guides generally exaggerate the level of difficulty – but not this time. It is a relentless 2-3 hour climb followed by about 70m of almost vertical rock which (for the likes of us) can only be managed with the aid of a chain attached to the rocks. Arriving at the top, totally exhausted, it was a bit disconcerting to be greeted by a bush turkey.

Bush Turkey

These are all over the mountain and are no doubt a good source of protein for the largish pythons that live in the forested mountain slopes. We didn't see any pythons but just this grey-black one (about 60cm) on the track.

This was about 2 ft long

The view was initially obscured by cloud, but these rose and eventually we had a fantastic 360 degree view. Mt Warning is reputedly the first place that the sun strikes each day in Australia.

View from Mount Warning

A second great hike was to the Minyon Falls.

View from the top of the Minyon Falls

Much improved weather meant that we could camp our way south – 8 nights without rain and good night-time temperatures. The only downside was the mosquitoes that flourished in the wet weather of a week (or so) ago.

Kookaburras can be over-friendly and snatch food from your hand

Camp sites are invariably good – sometimes remarkably so. Some campsites have a huge mossie-free camp kitchen equipped with fridge, freezer, toasters, microwaves, cooker, boiling water on tap and several gas BBQs.

The day we lost the camera - and found it again

It is hardly what Meg remembers from her days as a Girl Guide. Our air mattresses are 'state of the art' and as comfortable as a bed and we have invested in pillows (10A$) which make all the difference. And it is warm enough to sleep most of the night on top of sleeping bags.

From Mount Warning we worked our way down the coast via Brunswick Heads, Evan's Head, Urunga, North Haven, Hawk's Nest and Nelson's Bay – all delightful small towns off the main highway with warm bays to swim in and usually with good hikes (although these are getting shorter!)

Mud crabs (?) at Uranga

The night skies are so clear and sharp – and of course the stars are very different from what we are used to. We have taken to going to bed early – it is dark by 8:30 p.m. and if there is nowhere to sit we just turn in. But we have also taken to getting up at 5:30 a.m. and finding somewhere to watch the sun rise over the sea.

View of Port Stephens from Mt. Tomaree

Before we set off on this phase of our travels (around South-East Australia) we wondered how our stamina would hold out. There is something about travelling as a 'tourist' rather than as a 'traveller' – a change of role and much less well-defined objectives. In the rain we found it more difficult to maintain a sense of purpose but now, with such lovely weather, everything has changed. A day can be as simple as “find somewhere for a coffee, go on a walk for a few miles, find a camp site and organise the evening meal”. This usually involves driving somewhere but on Australian roads driving is not stressful. We usually find people to talk to and this can make for a pleasant evening, exchanging views, ideas and sometimes addresses.

Finally to Brisbane

Jeff was a little disappointed to discover that his immunity to the spider bite was due to the fact that the spider was a non-venomous Golden Orb spider and not because of any super-human resistance.

We completed the final leg of our journey to Brisbane with a gradual shift in weather from torrential rain to occasional showers. After about 10 days of fairly constant rain this was a great relief. With such glorious beaches and warm water we at last began to fully appreciate this area. We arrived in Brisbane after overnight stays in Tweed Heads and Surfers Paradise – the latter in the Marriott hotel at a ridiculous knock-down rate.

Surfers Paradise – and the whole Gold Coast region - is about as close as you get to California life style. Huge high rise buildings, beautiful long beaches, enormous shopping malls. Surfers Paradise boasts the highest building in Australia. Not quite our scene, so we quickly moved on to Brisbane with a call in at Manly (yes there is one in Brisbane as well as in Sydney)

Manly

Brisbane has a wonderful river flowing right through the centre and there are City Cats which are large water taxis to ferry you up and down.

Brisbane from the City Cat

This is a great way to travel and we could travel right in to the heart of the city. We had only one day to explore and focussed on the 'new' Anglican cathedral and the (free) outdoor swimming pools on South Bank.

St. Johns Cathedral was built in Gothic Style but started only about 100 years ago.

St. John's Cathedral

They finished it this year! The main interest for us was that the wood carvings had been done by two generations of Blumsons who must have been part of the diaspora of East Londoners in the 19^th century. It is remarkable to see what the old cathedrals must have looked like when they were (relatively) new.

Brisbane's South Bank is a lovely little park on the river opposite the main shopping mall. It has lovely pools where you can just peel off and swim for free. It woldn't work in England but in Brisbane's climate it is a wonderful way to cool off.

South Bank swimming

Meg teaching a dog (Monty) to swim

Finally, on the 20^th Feb we left Brisbane for Thagoona, just west of Ipswich where we met up with Jeff's second Australian cousin. A special three days followed before we began the long trip back towards Melbourne.

One of the many local residents at Jeff''s cousins

... and another - a Cane Toad

Throughout our travels we have appeared to bring disaster to the places we visit – floods followed our departure from Hanoi and we just left Java before the landslides. Bush fires followed our trail in Victoria and there were more floods in our wake as we passed through NSW. We left Queensland wondering if there might be a plague of locusts to follow, although, as we write this, our fears have proved unfounded.

Sydney to Brisbane

Sunday 8th Feb – Day 130

After the heat, the rain. Our two nights in Sydney were intended to check it out and see what we might do there on the way back from Brisbane to Melbourne. We had booked a hotel about 4 km from the centre in Glebe Road – small, friendly and not too pricey, and arrived about mid-day. The temperature had dropped too a really pleasant level and we walked into the city, around and around to get a feel for the place. Eventually we ended up at Circular Key. The setting is just stunning and in the evening sunshine, sitting in a cafe overlooking the harbour and the Harbour Bridge, it was hard to imagine anything much better.




















Cafe Culture – Sydney Style

We eventually returned to our hotel, the next day full of promise.

You can buy a day ticket for A$17 that covers all bus, train and ferry rides for 24 hours. Meg, ever with an eye for a bargain, snapped up a couple the next morning and we set off for the city again to see our cargo ship agent and sort out some paperwork. It was nearly noon and we needed to work hard to use the full $17 so we set off on the ferry to Manly which gives a good view of the harbour and is an interesting suburb to explore.


























Sydney Harbour


And then a mystery tour using the buses and trains. This involves hopping on the first bus you see and then switching buses at random intervals until you are completely lost. The challenge then is to find your way back.

By the late afternoon the rain had set in, and this was the first of the rain that plagued us all the way to Brisbane. The next day we set off northwards towards Brisbane. We had arranged a couple of stops at Dorrigo and later at Byron Bay so it was a weeks journey. We somehow had not expected poor weather and dull rainy days, very reminiscent of an English summer , were not part of our plans.. Enthusiasm for camping in a tent disappeared and how to 'amuse' ourselves became an issue. Walking is not much fun in the rain and exploring small Australian towns only holds so much interest (which has largely expired now).

Meg – ever resourceful – noticed Stroud on the map, almost on our planned route, and announced that we must go there. So we did. Jeff was much enthused by the fantasy that we would somehow pass through a hole in the space-time continuum and arrive outside the Subscription Rooms.




















A short cut home?

It is hard to imagine two towns that are more different. Linked only by the name and, apparently, an annual brick-throwing competition, they are at different ends of the spectrum on almost every other parameter. One is politically left wing and the other very right wing. (Guess which way round they are).






















Brick throwing – a local sport

The NSW Stroud has a population of 551 and is at an altitude of 500m. We decided to sample the “cafe culture” proudly promoted in the tourist literature.




















Meg samples 'Cafe Culture' Stroud Style

We announced to the locals that we came from “near Stroud” and they looked at us with mild interest – sort of half way to us being Martians. Boldly going where no man has trod, we decided to stay the night in the Stroud Hotel. Its not one we would recommend to friends in search of a luxury resort break, (no en suite rooms, no breakfast, an outside staircase and a remarkable bathroom), but for only one night...

























Stroud Hotel






















...and its shared bathroom

We hastily moved on the next morning to Gloucester. This is a pleasant small town; we checked out some walks in the nearby national park, but still did not feel inspired to go for long walks in the rain, so headed north once more. Given that rain usually swells waterfalls, something which are not necessarily inspiring at the end of a three-year drought, we confidently headed up to Dorrigo, a small town with a World Heritage National Park on the “Waterfall Way”. Our host, Susan, was a mine of knowledge about local activities as well as a good cook, so next day we headed off to the said national park where we had a (dry) walk through some of the most magnificent sub tropical rain forest ever, including a visit to two waterfalls.





























Trianna Falls






















Ebor Falls

The trail actually went behind the curtain of water for the Crystal Falls. In the afternoon we set of to see two more sets of falls - one at Ebor, and a second one at Dangar. There were others, but it had started to rain yet again, so we called it a day.

The rain seemed to be unrelenting, so we decided to try out a few of the scenic rural towns in this part of Australia, which is called New England. It certainly felt that the weather was English for us. We got to Grafton which boasts the largest colony of fruit bats in the southern hemisphere (how do they know?) but there was little else of cultural, social or any other interest, so we pushed on again to Lismore. This is a town of 40,000 people where we felt there would be something to stimulate and engage us. I think we misjudged it.

Staying in a cabin here we had to take some remedial action on the car. Whilst the engine seemed fine and had powered up many a mountain, the boot let in water, and we had to do some running repairs to avoid travelling with a mobile plunge pool. And still it rained.

Byron Bay is described in the Lonely Planet as “God's Own Country”; actually the description of it being an ex-hippy town with magnificent beaches and crashing surf makes it sound like Stroud-on-Sea. We had made contact with friends of Australian friends who had graciously invited us to stay with them. And we instantly felt at home. We joined them and friends for morning coffee, which stretched through lunch until about 5 p.m. The conversation flowed non stop, but so did the rain. Phil, our host, said that occasionally in summer there were days of heavy rain. He described the rain falling at night : “You hear the rain thundering on the tin roof and think 'My god, that's heavy'. But after about half an hour the sound goes up a whole level and just as you think that surely there cannot be any more rain up there, it seems to get heavier still and the drumming on the roof becomes unbearably loud”. We can testify to the veracity of that statement.

But on the Sunday morning the skies had cleared and we set of with our hosts and other friends of theirs for a wonderful walk to the lighthouse, the most easterly point in Australia. But so did hundreds of others, we saw more people walking that day than at any other time since the fashionable board walk in Cottesloe, Perth. It really is a spectacular walk to the lighthouse and then back along a broad, flat surfing beach.

After brunch Jeff and I set of to explore the northern beaches in the town and the town itself. Because of the surf and lovely location, Byron attracts a lot of backpackers in their early twenties as well as young tourists from other parts of Australia. The ratio of people in the twenties to oldies in their fifties must be about 200:1. The main implication of this is that there are a lot of very beautiful, lean, tanned bodies on the beach. We looked for the sign which said “Oldies this way” convinced that there must be some sort of local regulation which prohibits elderly people exposing white flabby bodies in public. (We did not expose ours just in case there was).

Byron Bay

The spider – playing dead

The small red mark on Jeff's neck was surely the precursor to an eventual death by poison. However, on awaking the next morning it had vanished and, after unsuccessfully trying a few Spiderman moves, we hit the road once again.