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Diary
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The Jamie and Sophie chronicles Volume II
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For our first trip on Bali, we hired a driver called Agung, who was recommended to us by a couple who had been on Bali for 2 months. Not only was he polite, knowledgeable and a good driver, but he didn't shout "You! Transport!" at us once - a great start.
The first stop of the morning was to see the Barong, a traditional Balinese dance. The story goes: first, the Barong appears as a tiger with his friend the monkey. The Barong is a mythical good spirit beast - a cross between a dragon and a bear, but can morph at will. These 2 play around for a bit, acted by people in suits and make-up. Then enter the Prime Minister's servants and some farmers looking for palm wine, all with scary face masks. Things get more complicated from here on in as some servants of a witch come on, dance and disappear, followed by a queen's son who is to be sacrificed. Then the witch comes on and makes everyone evil. Finally, as luck would have it, the queen's son is made immortal and defeats the bad guys by turning into a Barong. This, apparently, is what passes for a plot around here. It does sound odd but it was excellent (even with all the scooby-doo "behind-you"s) and like nothing we've seen before. It was also helpful to have seen the Barong dance as many of the characters and scenes appear in a lot of Balinese art and so begin to make sense as you spend longer in Bali.
Sophie's craft lust was sated next as we visited a silver workshop, a wood carving shop and a Balinese picture gallery. We then visited our first temple. All temples on Bali are Hindu (there are at least 2000) and we had to wear sarongs to go in. The architecture is amazing. Very different from the Thai Wats and Vietnamese Pagodas - much more Indian in influence. We must have exasperated Agung as we failed to grasp the temple basics of the temple Gods' names, their elements and their colours - duh! He must have told us a dozen times by the end of the day.
The next temple was a water temple where the Balinese go to wash in the purifying waters and receive a blessing. Unusually, for Bali, there was an elephant cave temple for Ganesh nearby which was 500 years old and interesting to walk around in - lots of Westeners pretending to be Buddhists, though. Most temple complexes are open air and are well maintained but still have this ancient, mystic quality about them with lichen growing over the statues, old wooden carved doors and ducks running about (as well as the obligatory chessboard hawkers).
Ubud, which was our last stop for the day, is a beautiful, chilled village. It's quite touristy, with upmarket resorts and pricey fashionable restaurants, but it still has some backpacker charm. There were loads of (yet more) craft shops and it was baking hot. It was relaxing to take a break in the cool Monkey Forest and visit the temple there. The Monkey Forest is small, but crammed with Macquaque monkeys which are fun to watch (as long as you don't get too close). Their presence is supposed to make the area sacred, but this time we didn't have to wear a sarong to see them.
A few days later we took another trip with Agung to visit the main volcano on Lake Batur. The volcano is awesome and you drive around the crater rim (3 miles in diameter) to view the calderae, of which there are 4 and one is still active. Never having seen a volcano before we would have been easily impressed with anything, but this was truly amazing and we must have stared open-mouthed for ages. The Western edge of the crater is filled with Lake Batur, while in the middle of the crater are the main calderae, 1700 m up. Further West, on the other side of the crater from the lake is another caldera, 2300 high. You can see where the lava flows have sculpted the landscape and the black flows that haven't been overgrown are still too hot to talk on, but have villages right up against their borders.
Again, on the way we took in the usual sights: Batik workshop, stone sculptors, master wood carvers, etc. This is another amazing feature of Bali - that there are so many artisans. The roadsides are literally teeming with hand-carved statues, wooden furniture, building materials for temples and so on.
After 2 weeks of pool and sun it was time to pack the bags again and head off to the airport. On Saturday night we finally touched down in Perth, Western Australia, hurrah! Again, it was great to be in civilisation again and Jamie wanted to kiss the jetway as we got off the plane. After a brief stop in customs for Jamie's boots to be dipped in discinfectant (against foot and mouth, not foot odour) we got into the city and settled in at a backpackers.
We're now planning how to make the trip North up the coast to Darwin (about 2,500 miles) and are playing around with the idea of hiring a campervan (expect Frank Spencer like tales of living in cramped conditions and setting light to tea towels).
Til Later
Bruce and Sheila
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For most of our first week in Perth we spent our time "keeping house", checking on things back home, getting haircuts and buying warmer clothes - Perth is about 10 degrees cooler than Bali.
Perth is a beautiful city, quite small but with great restaurants and, of course, shopping. After so long in SE Asia it was nice to be able to stock up on essentials that we'd only been able to get at home (like pants).
We had to wait a few days for a campervan to become available and finally, on the Thursday, we picked up a 2 and half berth (not sure where the half comes into it) pop-top Econovan - complete with one-ring stove, air con, sink, fridge and fold-out bed. Our home from home for the next 3 and a half weeks. After stocking up with essential foodstuffs (bread, butter, beer) we set off for Freemantle for our first night of camping. Our pitch was a powered ensuite, which means next to your concrete slab you get electricity and water for the van and a brick shack with your own hot shower, WC and sink - this is definitely the way to go! We never thought we'd say this, but caravanning is great. Everybody's friendly, waves at each other on the roads; Australia has the perfect climate for outdoor cooking and the roads are empty for hundreds of miles - cool.
After Freemantle we started North and stopped the next day at Cervantes on the coast - we're following the coastal highway all the way to Darwin (about 3000 miles). Cervantes is a tiny fishing village with pretty much one caravan park and one supermarket. It's main attraction is the Pinnacles which are about 10 miles away down a rutted dirt road (once or twice we didn't think the suspension would make it).
The Pinnacles are fields of jagged limestone rocks that jutt out of the ground like broken teeth and are laid out over 3 square miles of sand. We went to see them at sunset as these long, spiked shadows rose from the rocks across the sand - it was kind of eerie but spectacular.
The next day we drove from Cervantes to Kalbarri, stopping at Greenough on the way. Greenough is a small settlement that was once a bustling agricultural town 100 years ago. It is mostly deserted now but the original village has been preserved as a walk-around museum (we guess this is what passes for "old" out here). We stopped for lunch at a nearby inn where we were greeted by a fellow Englishman from Crewe who now owns and runs the place. He was once in the French Foreign Legion, became a mercenary and was very willing to talk about his Stalinist beliefs while handing out "Mein Kampf" to a fellow patron for a spot of "interesting lunchtime reading". It made for a very unusual conversation. (The phrase "there aren't enough AK47s" will forever haunt us.)
The journey to Kalbarri is beautiful but repetitive: just miles and miles of nothing but flat baking scrub and the black, single-lane highway edged with red earth vanishing over the horizon. The only interesting things were the wild melons growing by the roadside and the odd roadkill. (One other typical Australian feature that deserves a mention is the Mullet. Many fellow style gurus at home will be pleased to hear that the endangered "Mullet" (hairdo) is very much alive and well in the hearts of the Australian people.)
Kalbarri is a beautiful crayfishing town at the mouth of the Murchison river. The first day there we visited the coastal gorges and took the sunset cruise up the river. The cruise was very relaxing and we saw all sorts of birds: Kites, Eagles, Storks and Turns. (We're now birdwatchers as well as Caravan obsessives - oh, dear.) Coming back to port the barbie was fired up and with sizzlers in hand (hot dogs) we watched the sun set. This was like nothing we've ever seen - the whole sky behind us turned violet and indigo as though someone had painted it and the sea to our front was lit up with gold and bright aquamarine; we were simply dumbstruck as the colours slowly melted to black as the sun sank behind the crashing surf at the mouth of the river. The sizzlers weren't too bad either.
We know we're a bit behind with the diary, but the West Coast is so isolated that it's hard to get drinking water sometimes, let alone an internet connection - normal service will resume as soon as is practically possible.
Bye for now, Jamie and Sophie
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We decided to stay on an extra day in Kalbarri to see the inland river gorges of the Murchison. These are about 20 miles away from the coast, across the bush and are beautiful gorges, about 150ft deep. Swatting the flies aside we stopped for a spot of lunch before heading off to the "Big River Ranch" to go horse riding. Sophie hadn't ridden a horse since she was 15 and my last go was a pony trek when I was 5, so this was going to be a new experience for us.
Sophie had a beautiful, lazy horse called "Sausage" and I had a headstrong thoroughbred named "Sugar". The ride was brilliant and it wasn't long before we were trotting and cantering like old cow hands. The ranch riders that came with our group took us down the banks of the Murchison and even through the river at a couple of points and we were thoroughly dirty, wet and saddle sore by the time we got back to the ranch.
In the evening we cooked our first BBQ of the year at the campsite barbie area which had free gas-powered BBQ grill plates. Two steaks in "Bush Tucker Marinade" with fried onions and mushrooms were cooked to perfection (if I do say so myself). We felt like we'd really relaxed into the Ozzie way of things.
The next day we drove to Denham, further up the coast in Shark Bay. Denham is another quiet fishing town with some beautiful beaches and is a great base to visit Monkey Mia nearby. Monkey Mia is renowned for its dolphins, which swim right up to you on the beach. They also feed a couple of the older female dolphins every day which appear on time at the shore. It was so amazing to see the dolphins come right up to the water's edge and swim around your legs looking up to you.
There's also a catamaran called the "Shotover" which runs small spotting trips in Shark Bay. We took the Dugong (Sea Cow) spotting trip which was fantastic. The Dugongs come to feed on the sea grass beds a couple of miles offshore and are very hard to find - Monkey Mia is one of the few places in the world where you can see Dugongs and they were amazing to watch, swimming with their calves. At the end of the trip was the obligatory sunset cruise, which again was beautiful.
Our next stop was Coral Bay, another 500 km up the coast. Coral Bay has the most amazing beach with crystal clear water and great coral for snorkelling, 50ft from the sand. Again, we had to endure some tough beach time but did our best to get through it.
Coral Bay offers all sorts of cruises, snorkel trips, glass-bottomed boat rides, etc. but we were lured by the wildlife again and booked a Manta Ray and a Whale Shark trip. The Manta Ray trip was excellent. After cruising for an hour to get outside the reef, the boat stopped and we were ordered into our wetsuits and snorkel gear. Then, with a cry of "There it is, go, go, go!" we bundled off the end of the boat faster than the A-Team could get out of the van. We had a swimmer with us, who was to lead us to the ray, but no sooner than we had hit the water when the ray, about the size of a Mini appeared, coming towards us. It was absolutely spectacular, slowly, gracefully gliding through the water as though without even trying and completely ignoring us while sifting the water for plankton.
A couple of times it lost us, but we just got back in the boat while a spotter plane found it again and then it was "Go! Go! Go!" once more. We must have swum with the ray for about an hour before, utterly exhausted, we finally gave up and moved on for some more sedate reef snorkelling and turtle spotting. Our swimmer, Steve, by the way wasn't even out of breath and we dubbed him the "Tomahawk".
We were due to see the Whale Sharks the next day but the wind was too strong and the swell too big so it was postphoned and we had to endure yet another hard day on the beach.
The day after our Whale Shark tour was delayed we got out of bed and checked the wind and thought it was still too strong to go. When we got to the boat office, however, they said that the Captain agreed it was strong but blowing in the right direction so we could go.
After a couple of hours cruising out past the reef the spotter plane sighted our first Whale Shark and while fighting the pitching of the boat we hurriedly slipped into snorkel gear, fins and fluorescent-striped Lycra body suits . This gave everyone on board the appearance of starring in an interpretive dance production (photos will not be posted on the web). As soon as the boat got into position there was the customary "Go! Go! Go!" and then 10 maritime Wayne Sleep impersonators launched into the water following our designated Olympic swimmer and videographer. After 5 minutes Hurculean-like front crawl we stopped, everybody with big grins having seen this huge, beautiful Whale Shark gliding through the water . . . except Jamie.
15 minutes later the shark was spotted again and we leapt into the rolling seas again; this time everyone saw it. Whale Sharks aren't carnivorous (except for the odd sardine) and are the biggest fish in the world. Most grow up to between 12 and 18 metres whereas ours was a tiddler by comparison, at 7 metres. Nevertheless, it was extremely impressive to view underwater and from its sheer size we understood why you're not allowed to within 3 metres of it; it may be a plankton feeder only, but one accidental swipe of its tail would give you a nasty headache. We managed one more swim with another shark after lunch before the 10ft swells meant we had to head back to the reef for a quick snorkel and then home.
Over the next 2 days we drove another 1350km up the coast to Broome, only stopping overnight at Port Hedland to get some sleep. Port Hedland does have some amazing sights but the BHP Hot Iron Briquette Facility nor the Southern Hemisphere's largest smokestack were not enough to make us stay a whole day.
The guidebook was pretty much correct in describing the road between Port Hedland and Broome as "the most boring drive in Western Australia". Nothing but vast flat grasslands that vanish into the horizon, mingled with mirage. It's so flat that you can almost fool yourself into thinking that you can make out the curvature of the earth. The one cool thing we did see, though not so cool for the Aborigines living there, was a bush fire - our first. A bit worrying as the flames licked the grass at the edge of the highway - we didn't stop.
Broome is a quaint, backpacker town on the Northwestern coast. It grew rapidly during the Pearl boom at the beginning of the century and is centred around a newly restored Chinatown area which was where the first merchants set-up to supply the pearl divers. They also have a saying that the town has a laid back feeling of its own called "Broometime" and we would agree - everything runs to Broometime. Broome also has the fantastic Cable Beach - 8km of unspoilt soft sand and crystal clear water. Not that we saw much of it on our first day which we spent getting our fridge repaired and ordering a new tyre to replace one that was rapidly balding. When getting the fridge fixed the engineer agreed with us that it had to be repaired that morning: "You can't have warm beer, it's against the law." Because the tyre was specially ordered and couriered we had to add an extra day on Cable Beach to the itinerary - ho hum.
For entertainment, some fellow caravanners told us to check out the "Staircase to the Moon" from a nearby hotel. This is a local phenomenon where the moon rises over the mudflats at night and the reflections in the flats resemble a staircase to the moon on the horizon. It only happens at high tide, early evening after dusk and on a full moon so it is quite rare and we thought worth taking a look. At the Mangrove hotel they set out free chairs overlooking Roebuck Bay and we took our seats about 15 minutes before it was all due to start. The Hotel even had live music set-up and as the moon began to rise the garden lights were turned off, the crowd quietened and a digeridoo began playing. It was incredibly atmospheric as the moon rose higher, changing colour from deep pink to orange and then ivory as the "stairs" appeared in the flats. About 10 minutes in, just as the digeridoo player reached his crescendo and the "staircase" was fully ascending, as if on que a meteriorite fell directly overhead, breaking up before burning up completely and everybody "oohed" like it was Guy Fawkes. For all the kitcsh build-up, it was truly awesome.
The next night we thought we'd catch a movie at the Sun Pictures cinema. This is the only surviving picture gardens in the world, an open air cinema with the original 1926 deckchairs and roofing. It was so cool to watch "The adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the desert", which is one of Sophie's favourite films, as the odd plane flew overhead to land at the nearby airfield. Very atmospheric and very Australian.
Well we're now off to chill out for the afternoon having suffered the world's worst busker at brunch this morning - truly horrendous out of tune version of Guns & Roses classic 80's hit "Sweet child of mine" (urrrgh!) Get the picture - hardly an aid to digestion. See, it's not all fun & games!!!
More thrilling installments next week.
Sophie and Jamie
After getting a new tyre fitted by Ozzie rednecks in Broome we started another long, boring drive over 2 days to Kununurra, inland and due East of Broome. On the way we stopped at Fitzroy Crossing for the night but there is little else there apart from a filling station and the caravan park, so there's not much to write about.
Kununurra is a small town with a supermarket and a half-dozen caravan parks. It's only 30 or so years old, built after the construction of the nearby Ord River Dam and Irrigation project. The dam has swollen the nearby Argyle Lake to make Australia's largest man-made lake that's actually classed as an inland sea.
We found out on our first night that the main purpose of the dam is to experiment with major crop farming, especially sugar cane. There we were, Mr and Mrs Norman boiling pasta behind the van when we heard this crackling roar and we turned to see the sky filled with 200ft columns of smoke illuminated by the orange fire of sugar cane fields being burnt off. It was a bit disconcerting at first to see an entire field ablaze that was only 200 yards across the road but some fellow caravanners noted the "hightened interest" on our faces and explained that it wasn't an out-of-control bush fire - phew!
The following morning we woke up at 5am to get ready for a scenic flight we'd booked. It was still dark but you could make out the sugar cane ash all over the ground. The flight we took was to see a geological formation known as the Bungle Bungles (nothing to do with Rainbow). Our flightpath took us over the Argyle Lake Dam, diamond mines and remote cattle homesteads where they still practise heli-mustering - literally hearding the cattle by one-manned helicopters. The view was fantastic and we got up in time to see the sun rise over the distant bluffs as we levelled out at 2000 ft.
The Bungle Bungles are a huge range of sandstone gorges and cliffs that have been weathered in such a way as to resemble rounded traffic cones, but there are about 100 square miles of them; this sort of formation, we were told, is not found anywhere else in the world. They are also striped black and red by algae living on them so we suppose they look more like Dennis the Menace traffic cones, albeit 300 ft tall. The effect of the early morning sunrise on the black and red rocks was amazing, backdropped against the red sandstone mesas and plateaus on the horizon.
After the flight, we checked out a local stone masons' which make oddments from the only "Zebra" rock in the world. (There's a helluva lot of geology in Australia.) The stone is literally striped resembling a zebra's skin, with straight vertical bands of iron that have leached into the stone over millions of years. It's a bit of an eclectic tourist attraction as included in the 50p entry fee you can look around the rock gallery, meet the stone masons, feed catfish and take home free, freshly picked pink grapefruits.
The next day we set off Northwest to Katherine, leaving Western Australia for the Northern Territories and another change in scenary. The road becomes more winding and pot-holed and in a few places we had to slowly ford areas of road with creeks running over them - luckily we're in the Dry season and not the Wet, when the creeks can get up to 2m deep. The landscape is less flat and more rugged with cliff ranges, mesas and plateaus and with taller trees in the brush. You also see a lot of Boab trees which look as though they have been planted upside down - fat trunks and branches that look like roots. The Aborigines say that it was a wicked tree that was made to grow upside down to teach it a lesson for its cruelty.
At Katherine we arrived just in time to see a digeridoo-making demonstration. "How boring!" we hear you cry, but it was actually rather cool to see how they can turn a stick into the finished article in half an hour without a single "And here's one I prepared earlier".
Katherine is located on the Katherine River which runs through the nearby Nitmiluk National Park. We took a short 2 hour boat trip up the river in the park which has some of the most beautiful river gorges, 100 ft deep and in some places decorated with Aboriginal cave paintings (they call "Rock Art") nearly 10,000 years old. We also saw our first crocodile which swam off after our boat rammed another tourist barge that had moved in for a closer look - ooops. The park also has a large population of bats which are suopposed to sleep during the day in the Gum trees on the river banks. Instead we think that they were having trouble dropping off as they were constantly screeching and squwarking at each other before a quick fly around the Gum tree to scare small children with their four feet wingspan. In the afternoon we dropped in at the "Whoop Whoop" workshop to make a digeridoo, as you do. Basically you choose your ideal eucalyptus trunk which has been soaking in water for weeks and start banging it with the back of an axe to free the bark off it. The hole down the centre has already been made by termites so you don't have to worry about making that. Then you strip off the remaining bark by hand, round the bottom and top with a rasp, file off the sharp knots and, hey presto, one didge ready for varnishing! You even get time to go to the local hot springs for a swim while it dries off before going back to collect your masterpiece and get a quick didge playing lesson. It looks very cool but I'm not sure I'll be ready to play Rolf Harris-style "Stairway to Heaven" by Christmas; got to get the hang of circular breathing first.
Next stop on the journey was Kakadu National Park, the jewel of the "Top End". Kakadu is about 20,000 sq km (about 7,500 sq miles) of beautiful outback parkland leased to the Australian Government by the Aborignes who own it and who are also the co-custodians. It's also where Crocdile Dundee was filmed. Much of the park is taken up by wetlands and our first stop at the park was a spot called Yellow Waters on the edge of the wetland area. There were very few trees here dotted about, instead it was mostly grasses and lillies. We even managed to see an eagle in its nest up one of the few trees. We've seen plenty of birds of prey on our journey North, swooping over roadkill or riding the thermals by the side of the road, but this was the first we'd seen "at home" and up close.
Close by Yellow Waters was an Aboriginal Culture exhibition. It was extremely well done and we learnt more in an hour than we had the entire journey from Perth. There were a lot of exhibits for hunting, bush-tucker, history, dreamtime (creation) myths and rock art. At 2 other sites in the park, Noulangie Rock and Ubir, we saw a lot more rock art which was fascinating. Some of the art is painted on naturally sheltered rock galleries and you can see how they've been used over thousands of years to teach the younger generations. Like at Katherine Gorge, most of the paintings are between 100 and 10,000 years old, but some in Kakadu were estimated to be 20,000 years old - but we didn't spot a single Rolferoo.
We finally made it to Darwin the next day, 5,775km (3,600 miles) from our starting point in Perth. The drive that morning was pretty uneventful apart from another roadside-licking bushfire and deathwish animals trying to end it all beneath the wheels of our campervan. For the previous 24 days we hadn't had a single notch to add to the bumper and then, all of a sudden, a crack ninja squad of goannas and monitor lizards must have been dispatched for the last day of our drive. Luckily we only caught one and didn't roll the van avoiding the others.
On the outskirts of Darwin we stopped at the Darwin Crocodile Park to see the Freshies (freshwater crocodiles that will normally ignore you) and the Salties (Saltwater monsters that are the maneaters). Luckily they're all kept behind reassuring rusting chainlink fence but still, being face to face with a 3m saltie is mildly unnerving and you're always wandering if they could make it over the fence. As well as small lakes and billabongs of salties and freshies they had celebrity crocs in special pens, such as "Burt" a 4.5m laviathan that starred in "Crocdile Dundee". Anyway, it was good to go back to the cafe and reduce the saltie population by having a couple of croc burgers. Mmm, tasted a bit like a cross between fish and chicken, very different from the Kangeroo we ate the previous night which tasted a bit like liver.
Darwin is a smaller town than Perth, but even though it's the capital of the Northern Territories it's got the laid back tropical charm of Broome and all the facilities you need: internet cafes, restaurants, 24hr laundry, shopping mall and drive-thru bottle shops. We kid you not, a predominate feature in any Australian town with a population of over 50 is that it will have a bottle shop (off license) with a drive-through. You wouldn't want to have to get out of your car just to buy a few cases of lager, now would you?
We now have a few days to hand back the campervan and plan how to get the 1,800 miles from Darwin to Adeleide via Alice Springs and Uluru (Ayer's Rock).
See you poms next week . . .
Jamie and Sophie
Okay, okay, so it's been a while. No more complaints, please. Unfortunately we haven't had all the time we'd like to keep current or had internet faciliies in every place we've stayed. But now, the saga continues . . .
So, back in Darwin, we managed to get the campervan back to the rental agency and talk our way out of a late return fee - don't ask . . . how were we supposed to know it was a weekend? It was great to move back into accomodation with a proper room to stand up in and a bed you don't have to make / unmake fold and unfold twice a day. We spent a few good days getting our onward journey to Alice planned as well as the obligatory trip to Ayer's Rock all booked up.
So, having posted the didgeridoo home and sat round the pool for 3 days (31 degrees, super) we caught the 13:25 McCafferty's special coach to Alice Springs and said godbye to tropical Darwin. As we got on board we noticed several "coach professionals" getting on with pillows and duvets, but we wern't intimidated. We'd been battle hardened on the worst wrecks that Vietnam could offer . . .or so we thought. The journey started off well enough, but after 3 hours a woman with 5 feral children boarded and things got a little louder.
It wasn't really her fault, as 5 children under 10 would be enough for anyone; but from 2 seats forward every time she shouted "Harley, stop it or I'll smack you in the mouth" it didn't seem to have much effect. Luckily, they calmed down by 10, after "Bugs Life" and were asleep an hour later. Sleeping in the seats was pretty difficult without bedding or an adjustable spine and we felt like stealing a pillow, but eventually we nodded off. Only to be awoken at 3am at the stop in Tennant Creek where the driver kept announcing over and over that we were stopping and something about valuables. He then parked under the service station lights and, hey presto, the kids woke up and started fighting.
A couple of hours more sleep and we arrived at Alice Springs, 930 miles later at 9:45am. It was freezing and, as a fellow caravanner had commented the previous week: "They don't call it the Red Centre for nothing". Though a bit gloomy, that does kind f sum up the geography, red semi-arid desert and lots of it. There was a bit of brush and trees about and we were told later that that was due to freak rain levels they've had over the last couple of years; by and by it's just red and empty.
Alice Springs is a cute little town. There's not a lot there but it has pioneer charm by the bucketful. Through the middle of town runs the Todd River and each year they hold the Henley-On-Todd races using bottomless boats that the "rowing team" hold onto and run with (a la Flintstones). You see, the Todd is always dry and the Henley-On-Todd race is in the Guiness Book of Records as the only boat race to be called off by the presence of water, which isn't that often. That kind of sums up Alice.
After catching the shuttle bus to our backpackers and settling in we had a quick walk around town to get our bearings and essentials before returning to collapse face down on the bed and pass out for the rest of the afternoon. We got up for dinner which was at the Backpacker BBQ (all you can eat for $7.50) and went back to our room to pass out again in preparation for an early start for our Ayer's Rock trip.
So, at 5am up we got and off to Ayer's Rock, more frequently referred to by its Aboriginal name, Uluru. When we finally left Alice the bus was pakced with about 20 fellow backpackers, aged 17-55 and a mix of nationalities: Thai, Japanese, Dutch, Swedish, Norwegen, Danish and German. Even someone from Tamworth who will remain nameless (Mandy, your card is marked).
The trip started with our guides, John and Leigh, explaining the trip and rules over the microphone and then each of us had to walk in turn down to the front of the bus and embarrass ourselves saying who we were, etc. It was a good icebreaker and everybody chatted for a while before submitting to exhaustion and sleeping once more for the 6 hours to our first stop, Kings Canyon.
King's Canyon is where the famous scene from "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert" was flimed where they climb a rock in full length ball gowns, heels and tiaras. As you imagine, Sophie was thrilled to pay homage to her favourite film. King's Canyon was beautiful, and the 8km walk was excellent with the guides explaining all the flora, fauna and geology along the way. We even managed to spot jellyfish fossils from 200 million years ago when Australia was covered by sea.
For the evening we gathered firewood and sat round the campfire at a purpose-built camp run by the tour company. There were no choruses of "Ging, gang, goolie" but the guides cooked a first-class dinner using camp ovens (wrought iron cooking pots). The menu included satay chicken casserole, chicken cacciatore and damper (not a sausage or burger in sight). Damper is bread as was cooked in the early pioneer days of Australia, in the embers of the fire.
Finally, we rolled out our swags round the fire. A swag is a big canvas bag that you put your sleeping bag in to keep warm. These were 3-star deluxe swags with foam slab mattresses and canvas hoods to keep the dew off your face. They were excellent and it was great to fall asleep by the dying fire, under the stars, all warm and snug knowing it was actually -1.
The next morning we were awoken at 4:40 - harsh. We had to get up early to get down to the Kata Djuta National Park Aboriginal Centre on time, near Uluru, before heading off to the Olgas. The Aboriginal centre was excellent and gave us a lot of information about Uluru, the Olgas and the people who have lived there for the last 20,000 years. After lunch we drove to the Olgas, much more sacred than Uluru and a very different formation. They were beautiful and we took a short 10km walk to see them. Unlike Uluru, you are not allowed to climb the Olgas. The Aboriginal people don't like you to climb Uluru for that matter, but unlike the Olgas it's not forbidden. There's a lot of whys and wherefores about climbing Uluru that are too complicated to go into here, but they haven't closed it yet and so we made up our minds whether we would climb it or not the next day.
The best way to describe the Olgas is as Sophie did: like a collection of giant scoops of orange sorbet. They are very dramatic, burnt orange against the bright blue sky and hundreds of feet tall. The photos will do them more justice. We then drove to Uluru to watch the sun set with a sip of champagne. Awesome. Finally, we got back to a new camp and sat round the fire keeping warm and holding an "Eurovision Song Contest" where each nationality had to sing an original song from there country. The Germans did one about a monkey stealing coconuts, the Thais did an elephant dance and Sophie did Wales proud singing "Mae Hen Wlad Fy'n Nhadau" (or, something) the Welsh national anthem. The English of us got away with "Sweet Chariot". Winners were probably the Swedes singing "Waterloo". And that concludes this week's notes from the Luxembourg jury.
Another small part of Australian road culture that deserves a small mention will be known by afficianados of the movie "Endless Summer II": the love of "big things". So far we've seen the big banana, the big bagpipe wielding highlander, the big golf ball, the big lobster, the big crocodile, the big rock, the big fish and the big prawn. We will let you know when we hunt down the big lawn mower and big lawn mower lady.
Back to the diary. The third day of our Ayer's Rock adventure started early again, 5am. This was to ensure that those who wanted to catch the sunrise behind the rock were there on time; the "climbers" were dropped off next and then the "base-walkers". Sophie was with the group walking the base of Uluru and Jamie joined the climbing group.
The base walk was beautiful, watching the colours of the rock change from brown to bright orange as the sun rose, highlighting different facets in the rock face. A lot of the points of interest are sacred aboriginal sites connected with either "men's business" or "women's business". You're not allowed into either area and not allowed to take pictures so some of the most interesting areas are off limits. The walk lasted about 2 hours and it was slightly disconcerting at the end where there are a series of plaques commemorating those who have died trying to climb Uluru; at that point Jamie still hadn't returned. It was also apparent, though, that it was unlucky to be called Brian as this was the most common name among the plaques - there were no Jamies, though, phew!
The climb started while it was still dark and as soon as the ranger gave us the ok and opened the climb we were off. It's quite a hard climb, and on the primary slope to the top there is no track or path, just a chain to hang onto as you climb the 66 degree slope. The climb is beautiful though, and as you stop to take one of the many rest breaks you can watch the sun rise over the Olgas in the distance. As you get further up the slope towards the summit the sky changes colour from violet to bright blue and then the wind whips up. On average one climber a year dies on Uluru, some from heart attacks, but most from chasing after lens caps and hats carried off by sudden gusts - it was easy to see why.
Finally, after an hour, we made the summit, panting. It was really rewarding to make it and the view was worth the effort - the visibility was about 100 miles in each direction. It was also worth starting early. When we started there were only about 30 of us climbing but by the time we came back down there were busloads of schoolchildren tearing up the slope, only to stop after 30 yards for a cigarette break (known as a "smoko" in Oz).
After the climb we did a quick drive by of Mount Connor, another beautiful flat-topped mountain created around the same time as Uluru. Then it was 6 hours back to Alice for a few cold ones at the main backpackers and then early to bed.
The next day we caught another overnighter coach to Adelaide. 20 hours, but at least there were no feral children this time. We arrived in Adelaide, 955 miles later, at 4pm, tired, battered and in need of a good shower. After hauling our backpacks around town we got to our booked accomodation, the Strathmore hotel. The guidebook said: "Smart, small hotel in a desirable location. En-suite rooms have no views, though they come with all mod cons from air-con to room service." What the guidebook didn't say was: "Fleapit above bar and a cheap casino. Poky, tobacco smelling rooms with sticky carpets and views of the hotel air-conditioning units and condensers. Noisy and all the charm of Port Talbot steelworks." Hence, 30 minutes later we were showered and in fluffy bathrobes looking out at Adelaide from the 8th floor of the Novotel. Sometimes you just have to live a little.
Adelaide is a gorgeous city. Full of Victorian charm and not over-built. It was good to be in a bigger city again. It's relatively cheap to eat out in Adelaide and there doesn't seem to be an end to the number of restaurants and cafes. The seafood was excellent and, as usual when food is good, we gorged.
Just a few minutes by an original, Victorian tram is Glenelg, by the sea. Glenelg is beautiful too and the tramline deposits you right on the beach. A lot of the shops and the pier are all original Victorian and there's a very relaxed, British seaside feel to Glenelg. Also, it wasn't raining and there were plenty of ice cream parlours - super!
After a few more errands in Adelaide we caught the early bus to the Barossa valley. This was a part of the trip we were especially looking forward to! The bus dropped us at the end of the road we needed and with rucksacks firmly strapped on we walked down to our accomodation for the weekend, Lawley Farm. It was great to be up and out early in the morning, walking down narrow country lanes, breathing fresh air and casting our eyes over mile after mile of vines.
This time, the guidebook didn't lie and Lawley Farm was: "Restored stone cottages shaded by pepper trees on a quiet road ideal for walking an cycling and within walking distance of the best wineries in the Barossa". Our hosts, Jack and Lesley, couldn't have been more friendly and we settled in quickly before getting on with our tasting trip.
We managed to cram in four vineyards that day. Hard work on foot but we thought we were up to the task. The best was Charles Melton Wines, which had the most beautiful setting, at the end of a valley covered with vines. After all that hard work it was great to get back to our room, complete with 4-poster bed and roaring log fire (a litle different from the hostels we're used to).
The Barossa has a strong rural German feel to it and a lot of the place and road names reflect this: Krondorf Road, Lyndoch, Mengler Hill. Most of the architecture is Lutherian and there are plenty of small chapels dotted around.
The second day of our stay in the Barossa we took to bikes and covered a further six vineyards. Please don't get the wrong idea and think we were getting plastered at each "cellar door" (as they call it). Most vineyards have a professional tasting area and offer you water, nibbles and the obligatory spittoon so that you can pace yourself. Wine tasting may sound a bit of an elitist pastime but in Australia people from all walks turned up to try and buy the wine with us. (Oh, and by the way, it's all free.) And just to prove what a small world it is, at one vineyard we met one Australian woman who used to work at a restaurant in Putney we've been to many times. She even remembers a friend's wedding lunch we went to.
And so, sadly, we finally had to leave the Barossa and headed back to Adelaide on the bus, with a couple of bottles in hand for medicinal purposes only.
Back in Adelaide we picked up an economy hire car, stowed our bags and drove out of the city. We took the coast road for most of the journey to a town called Penola. As soon as you get 30 miles outside of Adelaide the traffic thins out and it's only you and the occasional car out on the road. The coastal road hugs the space between a long sand bar and the wetlands just on the interior, so that even though you don't see the sea it's all dunes and flat lakeland areas. On one particular stretch the bacteria in a lake coloured the water pink and it was very strange to believe it was the true water colour you were seeing and not a trick of the light.
Getting back inland is dairy country, rolling green hills and cows reminding us of home. Penola is a very small town, a ribbon development mostly laid out on the main road and we were very glad to get to our room as dusk fell. We stayed in a hotel called the "Royal Oak", the first hotel/pub built after the town was founded in the 1850s. It was heritage listed, so all the fittings, woodwork and plasterwork were original from when it had been built. It was just us in that night and it felt a bit spooky to be the only ones knocking around the empty Victorian hotel.
The next day we had another big drive to the Grampians, a mountain range almost halfway between Melbourne and Adelaide. Unfortunately, the route led through Coonawarra, another vineyard region famous for its reds. Sophie agreed to be the designated driver and we quickly whipped through 4 vineyards before continuing on our way. Coonawarra is a lot flatter than the Barossa but again the landscape was nothing but miles and miles of vines stretching away from the main road before eventually turning to endless wheat fields.
Just up the road was Naracoorte and the aptly titled Naracoorte Caves, a network of 6 limestone caves discovered in the early 1900s by explorers looking for bat guano. The caves are now a UN World Heritage site due to the huge quantity of quality megafauna fossils they've found here. We were a bit pressed for time, so we took the tour of the main fossil cave.
The actual stalactites and stalagmites were okay, but not as big as some of the others we'd seen in Vietnam, in Halong Bay. Instead, the big attraction was the fossil chamber where they'd discovered a 4m deep pit of fossilised bones. Some were supposedly millions of years old and they're still excavating there, such that we could see the work in progress.
Finally, we got to the Grampians. This is a fairly small mountain range that just juts out of the plain like an anomaly. The formations are very craggy and wooded and we thought that the name was probably a very good match. The drive to Hall's Gap, in the Grampians, winds into the centre of the range and then along the walls of an impressive gully. As the sun began to set it got cold, a lot colder than Adelaide or Coonawarra, but we managed to squeeze in McKenzie Falls and a kangaroo spotting area before it got dark. These were the first kangaroos we'd seen up close in Australia. They were very tame and we were able to get within a couple of feet before they hopped off, some with little baby kangaroos, or "Joeys", in their pouches.
That night we stayed at an eco-YHA hostel which was very impressive as it was made from low-environmental impact materials, with a recyclable waste water system and log fires. The heating in our room was very eco-friendly as it hardly affected the environment at all - it was freezing! Luckily it was only for the one night.
The next day we took a beautiful drive at sunrise down the length of the Grampian range on our way to the coast. It was amazing to see the valleys shrouded in mist as we zigzagged down ragged rock faces lit orange by the early sun. You have to be very careful driving at sunrise and sunset in Australia; this is when most animals are likely to be hunting and feeding, especially kangaroos and they have a habit of wandering out onto the roads. To prove the point a deer walked out right in front of our car, but Sophie had her Schumacher head on and swerved just in time . . . no venison for dinner.
We now hit the Great Ocean Road, built after WWII to rival the coastal drives of California. The first half doesn't go that near the coast but branches out every now and then to see some beautiful coastal scenery. Some of the most magnificent were The Islands, Lord Ard Gorge and The 12 Apostles. The Islands are just a few isolated limestone arches and stacks that were originally part of the mainland before being eroded into exile. They were fantastic, though, white and yellow striped rock standing out against the battering blue ocean.
Next, Lord Ard Gorge is not one but a series of gorges near where the Lord Ard steamship ran aground bringing immigrants from the UK in the late nineteenth century. The gorges were beautiful, all being pounded by the crashing surf. There was also a huge blowhole nearby where the sound of the waves made this huge deep "oomph" you could feel in your chest every minute or so.
The 12 apostles are a series of stacks leading back up the coast to Lord Ard Gorge. Again, beautiful unspoilt coastline backdropped against the furious sea.
After a quick late lunch at Apollo Bay we pressed on to Melbourne. We only had one night booked here as there didn't seem to be any rooms left in the entire city for the rest of the week due to the Lions rugby tour. In fact, Melbourne just seemed to be crammed full of British rugby supporters in team shirts or with dyed hair looking for English pubs. Even though we only had a day, we managed to cram in a lot, getting to have a good walk around the city and taking in the Immigration Museum and Victoria Markets.
The Immigration Museum was very well laid out, with video documentaries and displays following people's life stories as they journeyed to Australia to settle and start new lives. The Victoria Markets are a bit of a tradition on Melbourne; acres of covered stalls selling everything from fruit and veg to clothes, to every conceivable kind of tack you could imagine. Melbourne seems to be a great city with plenty to see. It was very annoying to be literally "pushed out" by the Lions tour but we had to be getting on anyway.
So as to give ourselves an extra day to look round we booked a night at a caravan park just outside of town. No cabins were left (you guessed it, due to Lions supporters) but there were on-site caravans - perfect we thought. It was like entering a time-warp and stepping back 30 years, all formica and vinyl imitation wood panelling. You could see that Terry and June would have loved to have stayed there and we were sure that we could hear Huggy Bear lightly playing bass as we crossed the threshold. The best touch was the plastic leather-effect headboard on the bed, suspended a foot from where our heads would be - useless, but groovy, baby. The caravan was cold, but thankfully there were 2 fan heaters that kept shorting the caravan electricity. Eventually, after shivering through ER, we went to bed early only to be serenaded by the torrential rain pounding on the roof and a native sort of raccoon that kept charging around up there as we dropped off.
The next morning we set off East, heading to Eden on the coast, just inside the New South Wales border. It was a long boring drive and the weather just seemed to get worse and worse. In fact, little did we know that we'd driven into the path of a storm. As it got darker, the rain just got heavier and heavier and then came the thunder and lightning which knocked out Eden's power.
There was nothing for it but to go and get some food, as we could do little else in the dark. We'd managed to make it to a restaurant on the harbour-side that was still open without getting drowned and ate by candlelight watching the boats reaching the shelter of the harbour walls. It was very romantic and almost seemed a shame to lose the moment when the electricity came back on.
Despite the weather, we decided to spend another day in Eden to take a break from all the day-long driving we'd done. We explored the nearby Ben Boyd National Park which hugs the coastline and watched huge waves crash on the beach after having chased after some kangaroos. We didn't actually mean to chase them but each time we drew close enough for a photo, off they hopped.
The next day we drove on to Canberra, the capital of Australia. Canberra is up in the mountains half-way between Sydney and Melbourne and located in its own state, ACT (Australian Capital Territory). To get there we drove through skiing country. Although there was no snow Canberra was by the far the coldest place that we'd been to in Australia. It seemed that every time we turned the TV on it was Wimbledon, and there were all of you back home walking around in shorts and t-shirts and here we were in jumpers and waterproofs.
Canberra, though small, is laid out over a huge area. As you drive in you get this enormous sense of space. The route through the centre seemed to be wide roads, huge lakes and roundabouts the length of cruise liners. The centre is dominated by the parliament building which looks like a cross between an Olympic Stadium and a TV broadcasting tower, due to the gigantic 3-pronged flag pole on the domed top. The curving roof is covered in grass which reaches the ground. From the top the view was spectacular and you could see how Canberra has been carefully designed, nestling in amongst the surrounding wooded hills. The Parliament building itself was quite impressive, but most astounding was that you could walk all round it, in through the various senate and parliament chambers and offices; very different from our own Houses of Parliament.
We also visited the National Gallery which had some excellent aboriginal art and some unusual sardine can sculptures. After the gallery we drove down the Anzac memorial road as the sun set over the Parliament building and had a quick look at the tributes to the different conflicts the Anzacs have fought in. Again, it was very well done and quite moving but slightly disconcerting that they seemed to have left gaps, maybe for future conflicts.
Back in the motel we settled in for another freezing night, looking forward to warmth, hopefully, at the following day's stop . . . Sydney!
Will write more thrills and spills soon, Sophie and Jamie.
As we drove nearer to Sydney the main highway headed into the suburbs and got more conjested. We eventually found Sydney Central YHA at lunchtime but it took us another hour of shouting at the one-way system (never at each other) before we managed to find a legal right turn and pull into the car park, which in itself was a bonus considering how crowded Sydney was. Unfortunately, we only managed to book a few nights there because of the impending Lions Supporter invasion, but still it was enough to get a feel of the place.
Sydney is great. Quite a young city with a slightly American feel. It has all the attractions: bars, restaurants, tall buildings, etc. First thing, we walked down to The Rocks, a small promontory that extends out of Circular Quay, sandwiched between Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Opera House. After all these years of seeing Sydney in books at school and on TV it was almost unreal to be right there, right beside the Bridge - too many photos were taken!
After that the weather pretty much closed in for the rest of our stay but we still got loads done seeing as we don't know when we'll be back here next. We caught a ferry to Manly Beach, a famous surfing spot over the other side of the bay. This was great as the ferry pulls out right into the centre of the Bay and gave us more opportunity for Opera House / Bridge pictures!
Darling Harbour was great too, but with too much to see in one day. We left it at the Warship exhibition at the Maritime Museum and the Aquarium. The ships, HMS Vampire (a gunboat) and HMS Onslow (a submarine) were very interesting to walk around, not to mention totally cramped. They're still maintained by some of their former crews who guide you around and explain everything. Sophie didn't realise the crew were around at first and got caught doing a very loud impersonation of a red-neck Aussie sailor. Considering we were in the tiny submarine at the time there was no where for her to hide from embarrasment (hilarious - lucky they didn't fire her out of the torpedo tube).
The Aquarium was pretty cool too, but jam-packed with kids because of the rain. We saw platypuses, which are really weird, like a cross between a duck and an otter. We also saw seals, turtles, sharks as well as the usual marine fare.
After 3 days we packed up again and continued our journey North to Coffs Harbour for a couple of days. It was nice to escape the cloud we'd been in since Adelaide and see some sun for a change. Our first day there we thought we'd do something calm and took an afternoon tour to see humpback whales. About an hour out of harbour we saw our first pair. They weren't fantastically leaping out of the water or anything, just coming up for air and blowing water out of their blow-holes. Still, it was an amazing sight to see these huge mammals blowing great gouts of water in the air before diving under again with a quick flick of their tail fins. We tracked these and another pair for about 2 hours before heading back to the harbour and catching sunset from the top of nearby Muttonbird Island.
The next day we were a bit more adventurous and got up at 6 to go white water rafting up in the hills on the mighty Namboider River. We were picked up by a 4X4 minibus and spent a couple of hours getting to the river up steep dirt tracks with 10 fellow travellers while the guides tried to scare us with possible scenarios of being trapped under rocks.
When we finally got in the water the rafting was excellent. The river was freezing but not too high and so we got to go down most of the rapids, 26 to be exact. They all had reassuring names such as "Decapitation" and "Devil's Cauldron". The scenary was fantastic but when when moving we mostly saw steep stone river banks; when the river was calm in places, though, you got a chance to look around and take in the peace and remoteness. Most of the rapids were rocky and fast with small drops but some were either impassible (due to danger of death, etc.) or involved 3 to 4 metre drops - luckily we only lost one person over the side and the only thing injured was his pride.
When we got back to Coffs Harbour we packed quickly and then drove through a thunderstorm to get to Byron Bay, stopping only to get a shot of another Big Lobster on the way. Though on the coast, Byron is near an inland area known as the "Hinterlands" - this is where most of Australia's "alternative" community is based and pretending that the 70s never ended. Quite a few live in Byron as well and everywhere you went there were people in tye-dye loon trousers playing bongos, wearing tea-cosies on their heads or trying to offer you Tibetan eye readings. For this reason, Byron is halfway between a hippy commune and a surfers' town. There are no highrises, just original Victorian houses and low corrugated-roof bungalows - very low-key.
The beaches were excellent. One we went to was deserted and had great surf - perfect, so that no-one could see Jamie eating the sand when boogie boarding.
As Byron is great for board surfing I had to admit I wasn't getting the most out of being there. I'm not quite Sonny Garcia (more like Cherry Garcia) so I booked a surf lesson for an afternoon. It was brilliant and soon I was standing like a pro - roll on Hawaii.
A big event for Australia was Big Brother, which ended while we were staying in Byron. It was their first and though we have no idea how the British one went everyone here became fully engrossed in Sarah-Marie's bunny ears and bum dancing. Now we know you have no idea what we're talking about and it will be strange to come home and hear about the UK Big Brother contestants that you've been following and that we've never heard of. Some things never change no matter where you are in the world, huh? Pardon us rambling on but as we've now reached the halfway mark, every now and again we're starting to think about what it'll be like coming home. But that's not until December, so enough for now.
After Byron we headed off to Surfer's Paradise, driving through Nimbin on the way. Nimbin is another hippy town in the Hinterlands, a bit reknowned for how outrageous it's supposed to be. We had been led to expect a huge, bustling permanent Glastonbury-like commune or something but the reality was fairly disappointing. It was no more that a single street with a couple of herbal cafes sporting lurid hoardings. Some backpackers come here for a whole day-trip to take in the "vibes" (Yawn!) - we had one fast camomile tea and wholemeal muffin and then made like giraffes (high-tailed it back to the main road).
Likewise, Surfer's Paradise was equally disappointing. You can see the highrise blocks on the horizon as you get over the hills and once again we were in the thick of it. It reminded us of a cross between Benidorm and Las Vegas - miles of casinos, show bars and concrete. Even the surf wasn't that good. We couldn't really move on as it was late in the afternoon so we stopped at the YHA right at the end of Surfer's and complete with a thatched-roof "British Arms" pub. Tacky.
We couldn't wait to leave the next day and made our way to Hervey Bay, the stop-off for Frasier Island. We booked a 2-day tour of Frasier Island and it was gorgeous. Frasier is the world's largest sand island, 90 miles long and 15 miles wide, and is UN World Heritage listed. The island is criss-crossed only by 4X4 tracks and its main road, Highway 1, is the 75 mile beach that runs down the East coast.
The scenary was breath taking and we had 2 great days being driven around or walking through the rainforests admiring the gums, ferns, eucalyptus and satinays. We didn't get to see any koalas but we did see some wild dingos. The island has some beautiful crystal clear lakes and some streams that if you jump in them will take you on their current down to the sea. There was also an opportunity to take a 15 minute flight off the beach and see Frasier from the air, which was awesome. There are a lot of huge sand dunes called "blows", miles in width and you could see how they have moved across the island to devour lakes and parts of the rainforest. Landing was a bit of a thrill as the tiny plane shot over jeeps and buses to land on the sand.
Back on the mainland we drove towards Rockhampton. The scenary starts to flatten out, turning into cane fields and banana plantations before turning into beef pasture. This is important because, as we found out, Rockhampton is the beef capital of Australia, no less. More Dukes of Hazard than anything else, it was a compact coutry and western town straddling both sides of a river. The avenues are long and broad and dotted at alarming frequency with concrete statues of cows and bullocks while men with goatees and baseball caps drive pickup trucks with bulldogs roaming in the back. You guessed it, that night we had steak for dinner!
There's not much to see around Rockhampton, apart from Emu Park on the coast and there's actually not a lot to see in Emu Park apart from some stunning beaches and the emu graveyard (no joke - took pictures to prove it).
Well enough of the bizarre and ridiculous. Catch up with you as and when we can. Bye for now, Boss Hog and Daisy Duke