roundy worldy

Rio de Janeiro - 17th to 20th December

2009-12-28T22:47:00.006+08:00

Where to begin..Rio is a show stopper. Its got it all - the beaches, the nightlife, the architecture, the ubiquitous sexiness, the pizazz, great music, dancing, food, pubs, grit, energy, danger, stupid wealth, hopeless poverty, the sweat..everything I expected and more.

We stayed in upmarket Leblon, the district bordered by the furthest stretch of sand along to the west from Copacabana and Ipanema, in Lemon Spirit Hostel. We had a few drinks with the owner , Andre who was a great conversationalist. He suggested a few things for us to see and do the following day.

We took it easy that night, just eating nearby in a sushi place. Ominous clouds had been gathering all day over the rocky peaks around which urban Rio sprawls, and our evening of sipping coconut milk from freshly hacked coca´s on Leblon Beach was rudely interrupted by a thunderous clap and then a bucketing downpour.

The next day was epic. Andre had pointed us north and we took an early morning walk through Parque Faria Lima along the western side of Lagoa Rodrigo de Freitas which will undoubtedly be the venue for any rowing that takes place in the impending 2016 Olympic Games. From there we continued towards a favoured haunt of the artistically inclined, the cafe inside the Ecola Artes Visuals on Rua Jardim Botanico. This is housed in a beautifully opulent mansion rebuilt in the 1920´s under Mario Vodrel on the grounds of the botanical gardens. The gardens here contain the only native forest left in Rio, and sitting in the courtyard by peering up past the elaborate colonnades one can see Cristo Redentor as he spreads his arms over the city. After coffee we walked through the gardens and into Gavea for lunch in Brasero de Gavea, another famous haunt with a reputation for great meat.

We had arranged a tour to take in the main sites for the afternoon, and were picked up in the hostel at 2pm to be shuttled up to the first stop of the day, the iconic Cristo. As I was looking up at the statue from the many angles our wanderings in the city to date had afforded, I had wondered at the impressiveness of the peak on which it stands, Corcovado (´the hunchback´). Its an incredibly steep incline and we passed through colourful favelas on our way to the top, winding through the greenery as the road twisted ever upwards.

The views of the city up here are spectacular. The statue itself was designed by a local named Da Costa Silva and sculpted by a Frenchman named Landowski. It is the largest art deco statue in the world and was completed in 1931 heralding the start of Rio´s golden age which lasted until the late 50´s. The locals get a slagging from their cousins in Sao Paolo who consider themselves as the workers in the country, and the Cariocas (locals of Rio) as a shower of beach bumming messers. The story goes that Cristo is waiting up there with his arms wide open ready to clap as soon as a Carioca does a decent days work.

So from that lofty height we descended through San Teresa and made for the conical monstrosity that is the enormous Catedral de São Sebastião do Rio de Janeiro. The interior of the church makes up for its, in my view anyway, horrendous exterior which was built in homage to Aztec architecture. With a standing capacity of 20,000 the huge floor space is covered by sloping stained glass windows that stretch the entirety of the 75 metre internal height.

Next stop is the venue for the World Cup final in 2014, the Macarena. 200,000 people crammed into this place to witness Pele´s last game there in 1950. We mucked around taking photos of our feet in the foot imprints of the cream of Brazilian soccer before making our way to another of Rio´s venerated spots - the Sambadrome.

Carnaval is something I will endeavor until my dying day to attend. Every February this enormous street party sweeps its bachannalian self through Rio. The official hub of this week long mayhem is the Sambadrome, a narrow strip of road hemmed in on one side by a series of concrete stands and on the other by a public school that is converted into VIP viewing boxes for the big event. The 12 samba schools of Rio spend about an hour each marching through this gauntlet vying for the top prize.

Last stop on our thoroughly enjoyable if whirlwind tour was Sugar Loaf (Pão de Açúcar). We took two separate funiculars (built in 1912) to its peak. The first leg to Morro da Urca takes you to 220 metres, and the viewing platforms on Sugar Loaf itself are about 400m above sea level. We opted to leave our guide and hang on for sunset up here. The photos speak for themselves, it is a breathtaking cityscape.

Eventually we made it back down and to Leblon where we showered and hopped a bus towards Lapa to get involved in some of Rio´s famed nightlife. We weren´t disappointed. I can only imagine what Carnaval must be like. Lights, action....mayhem! There were thousands of people of all shapes sizes, race and sexual persuasion spilling in and out of samba clubs, bars and cafes and drinking on the square under the peeling whitewashed old aquaduct. Fellas were walking around with bottles of rum, tequila and cachaça and shot glasses..mobile human chaser machines keeping the masses suitably fuelled. All you had to do was put your hand up and you would have three or four of them trying to pour looney juice down your throat for r$1 (about 40 euro cents) a pop.

We were immediately bowled over and energised by the madness of the place and bought a few caipirainha´s to wander with. I stupidly wandered into a dimly lit stretch of pathway past the aquaduct and had to fight my way out from about 10 kids who attacked me looking for my wallet. They were only 20 metres from a cop car but were hidden well enough in the shadows. Luckily I got out intact, money still in my pocket.

SO we stayed to the crowded sections, popping in and out of the samba clubs. I bumped into Niall Haughian, a fella I did my leaving cert with. I hadn´t seen him since were in school so we both did a bit of a double take, and promptly headed for the nearest bar to celebrate. It turned out we didnt take too much notice of our surroundings..I left the group a while later to find a toilet. We were sitting on the street, so I nipped into the ´bar´. It was a converted furniture shop full of coke fuelled gay guys getting friendly with each other. Ahh, Rio. It was fine though, no menace about the place just more people having a good time. Eventually we ended up out on the streets mixing with the crowds having chats with Nigerian pharmacists, sculptors from the favelas, Chilean postmen and lots of other random lunatics.

The next day was a bit of a write off, we were in bits. We wandered to a nearby mall, wasted 2 hours trying to get photos saved onto a dvd, and made our way to Copacabana where we sat in a beach front cafe and ate while people watching. After walking the length of the beach we returned to Leblon, sitting in one of the beach bars sipping out of coconuts trying to make sense of the previous evening. After another great sushi dinner that night we knocked Rio on the head, happy that given the short time frame for seeing the city we had squeezed in as much as we could have.

Country # 14......Brasil!!!

2009-12-28T22:15:00.007+08:00

The last of the 14 countries it will have taken us to complete the full circumnavigation is the 5th largest in the world, and one hell of a sexy spot. Like the Dutch are deservedly associated with clogs and bicycles, and the ´suave´ Irish with Guinness and fiscal mayhem the Brazilians do tanned asses in thongs, football and samba like no one else. With 1% of the population owning 50% of the land mass (which is the size of the USA excluding Alaska) its no wonder that you get a distinct feeling that the best things in life are free and to be enjoyed openly.

Crossing the border was easier than expected, and we made it to Foz do Iguazu by lunchtime on a quiet Sunday afternoon. The main bus terminal is a fair bit out of the town itself but we needed to get there asap to make sure to get tickets for a night bus to Florianapolis. So we spent about 6 hours in limbo in the station eating drinking and messing about until the appointed hour arrived..and no bus showed up. 2 hours later we were on our way. This was to be the final bus journey. After a good 20 hours of human stink, constant stopping and starting, raucous families and other passengers getting on and off and causing mayhem at all hours, random customs inspections and by now hugely swollen feet and cramped legs from lack of movement we were decidedly finished with long haul bus journeys.

From the centre of Florianapolis it took another 2 hours to get about 30kms out onto the island to Barro do Lagoa and the beach we were by now ready to roll around on, bags still strapped to our backs. The hostel we had booked turned out to be a winner, even if the friendly kiwi who runs the place informed us that there were no ATMs within walking distance and we had to get another bloody bus to get cash. That first day in Barro was a bit of a nightmare. Having finally got there absolutely shattered, we had to bus it back in towards the city, go to a number of banks before finding one that took our cards, all the while peering out the steamy windows at beautifully inviting beaches. By the time we had sorted ourselves out we took a walk along the cliff tops to an alleged swimming hole. All we found was a treacherous series of rocks and some mentalists braving the rip currents.

That night we had grilled sole in a restaurant down by the beach front, our appetites having been stoked by the sight of returning fishermen unloading their weighty cargo on a dock in the centre of the village.

Barra Beach Club turned out to be a fantastic little place. We shared a log cabin perched atop stilts and with a balcony overlooking the sweeping bay with a few Aussies and a British family. The balcony had a few hammocks that got a fair bit of usage in the evenings as I sat sipping mate (Argentinian green tea) and reading while the sun set.

Next morning having eventually navigated our way through the quagmire that is booking domestic flights in Brazil we bought a few bags of fresh fruit and some cold beers and finally hit the beach that had been calling out to us for the previous 24 hours!! Hours later and suitably satisfied with ourselves we spent the evening with our house mates over a few drinks on the balcony. A frenetic, crazed yet infinitely hospitable German lady has an idyllic restaurant just down the lane way from the hostel, and we visited her in the hope of partaking in some more fresh fish. The balcony has an unrestricted view of an impossibly gorgeous cove and we sat whiling away the time it took her to clatter and bang together a meal for us taking in the balmy sea breeze over a bottle of wine. She emerged triumphantly with a platter of roasted vermelho and we tucked in.

Then another glorious day on the beach, more fresh fruit, a few lime juices from the stall boys that wheel their shops along the sea front..jumping in and out of the surf like excited puppies..ahahahahhh. Yes.

The flight to Rio the next morning, via Sao Paolo, was a misty eyed daydream compared to the previous couple of journeys. Banking over the sea and into Rio on a clear day has to be a pilot´s pleasure. The tarmac of Santos Dumont juts dramatically out into the water as the iconic Cristo Redentor oversees the countless jets whizzing around its ears like flies. Catching a glimpse of the iconic statue as it emerged from the clouds just before we landed was something I will never forget.

Puerto Iguazu - 11th to 13th December

2009-12-23T05:22:00.006+08:00

Another night bus...this one was the worst and longest yet. Our seats were within sufficient distance of the toilet to induce nausea every time one of our fellow passengers decided to relieve themselves. Intermittent sleeping, mumbling and fidgeting filled the almost 20 hours it took to cover the distance from Salta. The landscape changed dramatically from arid and dusty to verdant and extremely humid. The greens and contrasting auburns of the soil were a welcome change from what we had been looking at for the previous few days.

Puerto Iguazu thrives as a touristic hub for the nearby Iguazu Falls. The falls are world renowned and straddle the border with Brazil. We settled into ´Hostel Sweet Hostel´ deliriously giddy after the journey. This was a cosy enough place, and we were reasonably enamored with it for a few hours sitting by the pool reading until it started to bucket rain and our room flooded. The electricity was on the blink aswell, which apparently is a regular occurrence in wet weather.

I bumped into Peter Stapleton in the hostel, and with his girlfriend and her family who were visiting them for a few weeks on their travels we were taxied through the sheets of rain to a nearby restaurant. We had a great parilla and a few glasses of wine before hitting a nearby bar. It was great to catch up with someone from Naas and we eventually made our way back to the hostel as all had an early start the next morning.

The weather had cleared as we caught a bus to the entrance to the falls. We paid our way, got a few maps and set off into the grounds. The abundance of wildlife became apparent pretty quickly. Coati roamed through the forest and around the eating areas and hundreds of bright butterflies surrounded us as we made our way towards the ´eco train´ that crests the eastern side of the falls. The most spectacular of the waterfalls, Garganta del Diablo (Devil´s Throat) can be accessed by a winding walkway that threads its way over the surging water and right up to the edge of the falls. The power of the water is unbelievable and unfortunately my paltry grasp of the English language precludes an accurate description. Its huge, thunderous, awe inspiring, other adjective adjective etc.

There are a series of trails that wind through the undergrowth and offer amazing views of the main event. The best was the Lower Trail which makes it´s way right down to the river. We had booked a boat trip and were whizzed around for about 15 minutes. It was really refreshing given the humidity, and we got soaked as we pulled in right underneath a couple of the falls!

Sitting on the rocks afterward we admired the view and smugly delighted at yet again landing in paradise. Our revelry was shattered by a guide who informed us that we were sitting in the middle of snake and scorpion infested undergrowth, and we better get our arses out of here pronto!

Satisfied with our day we left and enjoyed a free bbq in honour of the hostel owners birthday. We were too wrecked to partake in the drinking and hit the beds early. Iguazu was definitely a highlight in our South America experience. After months of continual stimulation it can sometimes take something a little special and out of the ordinary to inspire that ´wow factor´ and the falls certainly did not disappoint.

Next stop Brazil!

Salta

2009-12-23T05:19:00.002+08:00

We arrived into Salta much later than planned due to our tardy start so by the time we got to the hostel it was dark and we were wrecked. We stayed in Las Rejas hostel which was more like a B&B. Fresh towels were such a treat!

We spent the next day wandering around Salta, glad to be off the bus and stretching the legs! We walked to the cathedral on the main square. It is a peach coloured building built in 1882. We had coffee on Plaza 9 de Julio before heading into the controversial Museo de Arqueologia de Alta Montana. Inside they have the mummified remains of a six year old girl found high up in the Llullaillaco volcanoe (6739m) in the Andes range in 1999. Three mummified remains of children were found in a sanctuary in Llullaillaco and many locals believe they should be laid to rest instead of being on display. It is eerie to observe the yound girl who was found still perfectly intact and lifelike due to the freezing temperatures at that altitude.

These child sacrifices were given a maize drink which made them fall asleep and then they were left in the mountain as an offering to the Gods. They were accompanied by gold and silver statues and textiles.

Afterwards we headed towards Cerro San Bernardo and ascended by the cable car. It gives a fantastic view over the city and the surrounding mountains. We wandered back to the main square via the white washed walls of Convento San Bernardo and the ´ox-blood coloured´ Iglesia y Convento San Francisco. It is a nice town to wander around but most of its activities involved a bus one way or the other so we opted for aimless wandering instead. We easily secured our tickets for the following day to our next destination, Puerto Iguazu.

Counterfeit 100 peso notes are something of a problem in Argentina. The worrying thing is twice now I have received false notes from ATMs. We hoped to tackle the situation in Salta but the queues for all the banks were astounding. We could not figure out what was going on. The queue around outside the post office went for a couple of blocks. It was the same the next day too.

Of course now that we were back in Argentina we sought the best steak in town to make up for lost time. The proprietors of Las Rejas highly recommended La Monumental restaurant. We stopped in ´Los Tribunales´ a lovely little pub/ cafe on the way to the restaurant. We were drawn in by the appearance of the place and the old fashioned decor inside. Lots of old men sitting around reading papers drinking and smoking. It was like Salta´s answer to Fletcher´s. La Monumental did not let us down and we enjoyed a delicious meal there before calling it a night.

San Pedro De Atacama..Part 2

2009-12-17T02:41:00.002+08:00

We had an extra two days to spend in SPDA seeing as the bus we wanted was fully booked. The first was mostly spent with Alex and Jeanette before saying our goodbyes that evening. We had a lovely meal on the main plaza in the town and sat for a few hours chatting. It was nice for a change to have no excursions lined up and the chance to sit back and enjoy SPDA for the lovely little town that it is. The main plaza is a lovely tree filled square with a beautiful white washed adobe church with a mud roof and a bright blue door.

The streets of the town for the most part are not paved and leave a cloud of dust when cars drive over them. The buildings are all small, adobe structures containing over-priced restaurants, souvenir shops and travel agencies. SPDA is the kind of place you hope to experience in Chile, finally out of the big cities we felt we had found something a little more authentic, pity there's 100's of tourists everywhere, ha! But in spite of that it is very much worth the visit. Its a interesting little town surrounded by incredible landscapes. At times it reminded us of places in Mongolia we'd been and Olkhon Island in Russia, a very basic standard of living, unpaved roads and makeshift homes.

On our last day in town we wandered into the museum off the main square. There are claims that in parts of the Atacama basin it has not rained for 100's of years hence its claim as the driest place on earth. I don't find that hard to believe. Jeanette who is Namibian would possibly argue that matter. According to her and Alex there are places in Namibia with a lot less running water throughout the town. Irrigation channels here line the gutters with plentiful water supplies running through them. In terms of precipitation levels however we reckon its drier.

Over 12000 years ago there was twice as much rain in the region, and so more river flow from the surrounding mountains filling large lakes. Between 8000 and 6000 years ago there was an intense drought that dried the lakes to produce the salt flats we see today. Further climate change around 3000 years ago brought about the current climate experienced in SPDA. The town sits in the Atacama basin surrounded by the Andes with elevation ranging from 2300m to 6000m and so even when it's dry at lower altitude snow melt higher up is a continuous source of water for the settlements at lower levels. The mountain ranges here are called Cordillera de la Sal and Cordillera de Domeyko.

The first evidence of human settlement in the Atacameno territory dates back from 9000 to 6000BC. Both the states of Tiwanaku and Inka made pre-Hispanic contact with the Atacamenos influencing the culture of the region. The state of Tiwanaku (500-100AD) predates the Inka period (1450-1810AC) and had its' centre near Lake Titicaca in Bolivia. It is considered one of the first states of South America. They imposed a hierarchical state leadership over the chiefs of the ethnic groups in parts of Bolivia, southern Peru, N.W. Argentina and N. Chile. They introduced gold and bronze to these regions.

After their collapse the Inka state dominated from Equador to central Chile. Their conquests ranged from violent to peaceful depending on the resistance met by local tribes. They imposed their religious ideals which emphasised a solar cult and veneration of the Inka emperor, as well as imposing cultural and social customs. They introduced economics and politics and new technologies such as mining. The centre of their empire was located in Cuzco in Peru.

It was 90 years after the arrival of the Inka that the Spanish invaded Atacameno territory. With them they bought Christianization further cultural mixing and introduction of new animals like cows, sheep, goat and horses.

The history of Atacama is just as interesting as the geography. We felt like we only had the tip of iceberg though. Not being able to speak the language fluently can be frustrating when trying to learn about a country, you always feel like you're missing out on more when you don't fully understand what's going on around you. Since we have arrived in Chile the run up to local elections and presidential elections has been very apparent everywhere we have been. Economically Chile is the most stable of the Latin American countries at the moment. The risk of violent crime is very low. It is a very family orientated society. Chileans are renowned for the sense of hospitality and sociable nature. Machismo is not as prevalent here as other Latin American countries, women are very much respected. The president at the moment is the first ever female Chilean president, Michelle Bachelet.

The Chileans too are traditionally late and whilst the buses we´ve been on over the past few weeks have been for the most part punctual we had our first experience of the renowned South American tardiness the morning we were due to leave on our scheduled 9.40am bus. We sat on the side of the road with all the other gringos waiting to get out of town. There was no bus stop so we sat in the sun slowly cooking and getting more and more impatient. Buses came and went but none to Salta.

As if organising the passage out of SPDA into Argentina wasn´t hard enough we now had the added insult of waiting some more! At 11.30 a bus pulled up with Salta posted in its' windscreen. It wasn´t the company we booked with but at that point no one seemed to care. Backpacks were piled in the boot before the bus driver had a chance to protest and we all gathered around eager to get the hell out of there. After much confusion with border papers we finally left just after midday. James and I by some luck had the correct papers and so crossing the border was painless and we were back aboard and ascending the Andes once more.

The road snakes west in a gradual rise from SPDA towards the Andes, and before we knew it we were twisting and turning through great valleys and up and down steep roadways towards Salta. On the Argentinian side the colours of the rock formations were spectacular greens and shades of red.

The journey was probably the most scenic we have done to date. We pulled into Salta just after dark and fell gratefully into Las Rejas Hostel.

Lagoa Cejas

2009-12-17T01:37:00.003+08:00

Later that afternoon we embarked on a second excursion into the desert. This time we bumped our way for about two hours towards Lagoa Cejas, a beautiful salt lake with shimmering reflections of the surrounding peaks. After the stuffy bus we fell out onto the cracked mud and practically sprinted towards the shore. I´ve never swam in such heavily salinated water..it was amazing. The top layer was quite warm but within a few feet it got very cold. It was impossible to dive down more than 7 or 8 feet, and it was freezing so I gave up on that fairly quickly and just floated around. We couldn´t even swim properly because our legs were sticking up out of the water..it was bliss! After a quick wash in freshwater we had brought along with us to scrub off the salt we were back in the bus and heading towards our second stop of the evening..the ¨eyës of the desert¨.

These are two circular freshwater oases out in the middle of the nothingness. They only appear on the horizon from a few hundred metres away and are a truly bizarre natural phenomena given their proximity to each other and almost identical size and shape. They are about 12 metres in diameter and the water level rises to about 5 feet from ground level. They are perfect for jumping in and out of..which we did like big 3 year olds for about 20 minutes before tiring ourselves out.

The last stop of the evening where we watched the sun going down while sipping pisco sours (national drink) was another huge salt lake with lumps of crystals all along the shoreline. It was like snow. We took some amazing photographs of the lake and surrounds as the colours of the mountains changed in the receding light. Just after sunset we packed up and rattled our way back to town, absolutely knackered but satisfied with our day.

San Pedro de Atacama, Chile - the driest place on earth apparently

2009-12-11T00:30:00.006+08:00

We arrived feeling surprisingly fresh after the 17 hour bus journey into San Pedro de Atacama (SPDA) J and I slept loads, but woke just in time to catch some of the fantastic scenery coming up to the town. At 11am it was already 39 degrees celsius, a very dry heat. We made our way to our hostel Neuvo Amancer, not a bad spot, a little bit out of the town but nice communal areas and a good shower.

We got a recommendation from some fellow hostel mates for a tour company so we headed off down the town to see what was on offer. Having parted ways with Alex and Jeanette at the bus station (they were camping) we were laughing when within a few minutes of walking we bumped into them again. We decided to use our collective bargaining power to see what kind of deal we could get and secured ourselves three tours for 30,000 pesos with Corvatsch one of the big tour operators. By 4pm that afternoon we were back on a bus and en route to Valle de Luna (Moon Valley).

The landscape is spectacular, unlike anything I´ve seen before. One can see the mighty Andean range from the town. Licancabur the tallest in the range at 5920m is in fact a conical, active volcano. We stopped off a couple of kilometers outside the town to look over the Moon Valley with it´s rocky outcrops and massive sand dunes all different shades of brown. It is so dry here that the dust and sand gets up your
nostrils and into your eyes with ease, it takes a little getting used to. We´ve experienced this kind of heat before but never so dry, it leaves you gasping for water on a regular basis. Further down the road we got out of the bus again and did a short trek to the top of Death Valley. This has jagged rocky peaks and large dark brown dunes and the view from the top down is impressive to say the least. There are more rewarding views of the Andes from there too so it was hard to know which way to point the camera first. Our guide proceeded to bring us down over the edge and descend into Death Valley. After a few minutes of walking along the ridge of a large dune, he turned around and said "follow me" and started to run directly down the sand dune to the valley floor. We looked in shock and amusement, I think Jeanette was
one of the first to go careering after him. It was great craic as we were running yelping and screaming like big kids. There was a group of sandboarders over to our far left skimming along the dune surface and I felt it was all quite surreal! At the bottom we all caught our breath and poured the sand out of our shoes!

We walked on from there along the valley floor and past more tall dunes and rock formations which against the clear blue sky are abreath-taking sight. Back on the bus shortly after that and onwards to some salt caves and passages which again were more awesome geographical formations for us to get our heads round.

Before the sun set we made our way to another part of Valle de Luna and climbed up onto the mountain crest to sit and wait and watch the sun go down. It was fantastic, 100´s of people were all spread out along the mountain ridges watching and waiting. As the sun went down it cast beautiful purple and pink colours ofver the Andes in the
distance and into the canyons. J and I shared our beers with our Alex and Jeanette and savoured the moment. The only downfall was as soon the sun was down our guide was trying to get us to go back down to the bus. ¨Vamos chicos!¨ We held out for as long as we could not wanting to miss the best part. We arrived back in the town before 9pm and hadan early night. Geysers tour up next!

The geysers tour meant a 4am start so as to reach them before dawn when the temperature and light is best to view them. We were warned of cold weather as they are at an altitude of over 4500m, so we dressedas warm as our wardrobe allowed! As we drove around the town and picked everyone up I remarked how some people looked like they were prepared for snow! They had the last laugh however, after a very bumpy
ride up the mountains for two hours we arrived and were met with minus 7 degrees celsius as we stepped off the bus! Holy God! I can´t remember the last time I´ve ever been that cold! I thought my nose might fall off! Our guide who was a bit of a shambles didn´t make his alarm and so we were guideless wandering around the geysers. Jeanette and Alex tagged onto another English speaking guide who showed them around and warned them of the dangers, whilst J and I wandered aimlessly taking pictures and lamenting how cold it was. It was most impressive just as the sun began to rise and the light illuninated the long plumes of steam coming from some of the geysers.

Having already had a geyser experience in NZ we had a fair idea of what we were looking at. The remarkable thing here was that there was 50-60 geysers all in the one area. They lacked however the safety precautions that are abundant in NZ. Perhaps that´s what the guides are for! Feckin Gonzalo, messer! Our bus driver made every effort to please us in fairness to him, but he only spoke Spanish so we weren´t
too sure what he was saying and it just so happened no one on our bus spoke both Spanish and English.

We all stood around and had breakfast near the geysers, the bus driver boiled the eggs and heated our milk in the geysers steam much to my amusement. After brekkie it was straight over to the thermal pools and a reluctant strip off in the cold before a quick dash into the warm waters. ahhhhhhh. So we soaked there enoying the warmth with geysers steamin´in the distance and mountains all around. And of course a few
onlookers standing in their jackets, hats and scarves contemplating
whether they wanted to join us or not!

We made our way back down the mountains after that, this time able to take in the scenery we missed out on during the dark ascent. We spotted vicuna which are part of the camelid family (the other members native to the area being guanaco´s, alpaca and llama) They are the largest group of indigenous Amerian animals and are only found in the Andean region. We stopped here and there on the way down for snaps and to stretch the legs. One such place we pulled into was a small village with a beautiful white church on the hillside. James, Alex and Jeannette tucked into llama kebabs as we wandered aroud. It tastes like salty mutton fyi.

We were back in town by midday. James and I planned to siesta like the rest of the town but our plans were quashed when our hopes of organising our passage out of SPDA didn´t work out so smoothly, we spent some time trying to organise bus tickets back over into Argentina to no avail. Putting that to back of our minds we joined our
group once more for our final excursion. More to come on that...........

La Sereña, Chile

2009-12-08T00:03:00.008+08:00

The bus journey from Valparaiso to La Sereña took about 8 hours, and we arrived in relatively good shape at Hostal Casa Maria in mid afternoon. We had hugged the coast on the way north, passing fairly arid landscape consisting of scrubland strewn with cacti to our right, and dramatic views of the cliffs and shoreline to the left.

Casa Maria turned out to be the nicest accommodation we have had so far in South America. Our room was in the back garden of the house occupied by the owners and set amidst lemon and cherry trees. It was a lovely spot to chill out in for a few days, and since Sarah was coming down with the flu it turned out to be a perfect place to convalesce.

Mauritio and his mam (Maria) run the place, and they are quite a pair. Mammy clucks around, scolding poor old Mauritio (in his mid 30s at least) for spending too much time on the computer and not enough cleaning and scrubbing. We awoke one morning to the sound of a blazing row between them, the culmiation of which had Mauritio on his hands and knees scrubbing out the under decking of one of the raised rooms at the back of the garden, Mammy standing triumphantly akimbo smiling sweetly at the guests in between firce glances towards her offspring. Alex, our Safrican buddy is a Calvinist Minister back home, and hates any sort of conflict especially one in which he cannot understand enough of what is going on in order to intervene in. He was cowering in the corner while all this was going on. It felt like you were at a friends house when their Ma went off on one at them..hilarious.

La Sereña is a sleepy old town set about 2km back from the seafront. The beach is nothing spectacular, a long wild strip that would be great for surfing and windsurfing but it certainly is not for swimming. I went for a run down along it one day and could see the rip pretty clearly.

So we relaxed for the afternoon, wandered around town and decided to take a trip out to the astronomical observatory at Mamalluca about 70km inland near the town of Vicuña.

Northern Chile is one of the best places in the world to observe the night sky, and we were treated to a few hours of star gazing by an excellent and abundantly knowledgable local guide. We were lucky enough to have arrived on a full moon. I have never seen the moon rise with such clarity as I did that night, its rays peeping over the surrounding peeks until its light burst over illuminating the entire observatory site. At a brief lecture afterwards the guide used an amazing programme called Stellarium (free to download) which is sort of a Google Earth for the cosmos.

Next day was a lazy one. We had planned on trying to find a decent beach for a swim but the weather was overcast in the morning so we resorted to a few hours of wandering about town and catching up on emails. Mama Maria was in full fettle again. Our laundry was hanging out to dry and a bird had shit a pair of Sarah's shorts. Panic. It's Mauritio's fault of course. "Loco Mauritio". We have to catch our bus in half an hour. Tears well in Mama's eyes. What will the foreigners think of us? Sending them off with wet shitty shorts! "Lo siento ...ohhhh lo siento Saraaaa!'. Sarah did her best to assure her that the sky wasnt going to cave in, and that the famously high standards of Chilean hospitality had not just received a fatal blow. As we were on our way out Mama saw the guitar..."ohhhh me guuusta Jimiii Henrix..me gusta Rolleen Stone....ooooh Meek Yaaaager...y Los Beeetos....ahhh". A rare old bird, quite the sweet old character!

We had booked ourselves on a night bus to San Pedro de Atacama and together with our South African travelling companions set off for the station.

CHILE

2009-12-04T01:32:00.004+08:00

Crossing the Andes

We followed the same route west as we had a few days previously on the Alta Montana trip, yet the journey was still as breathtaking as the first time. So once again through the vinyards and lush Uspallata Valley onwards and upwards throught the monolithic peaks of the Andes. We caught a glimpse of Aconcagua to our right this time..the day was much clearer.Again the altitude was quite apparent, and at the border crossing, which took over three hours, we were knocked out with the effects. I will be taking medication for our crossing back into Argentina, which we plan to do from San Pedro de Atacama, a route that crosses a path at a height of over 4000m.

The colours of the mountains constantly change..greens and reds to bright sandstone to huge quartz rock faces. Around the border there is still plenty of snow on the nearby peaks, and once we were finally underway again the descent began through much of the same kind of terrain. One cant help but feel miniscule in the midst of such a range. At one point the road twists for a couple of kilometres down a dramatic decline to a valley floor like a leaden snake winding its way towards Santiago.

It became verdant quite quickly, and there were plenty of horses in the fields right up to the outskirts of the city. We passed through slums that reminded me of the wooden shacks that make up much of the outer ring of Ulan Batar, and after about 3 hours from the border found ourselves in the heart of Chile´s capital.

Santiago

I would recommend the hostel we found ourselves in, the comfortable and homely Hostel Forestal, which is beside the park of the same name and a ten minute walk to Pio Nono, the bridge that crosses a sludgey Rio Mapocho and leads to a street lined with numerous watering and feeding holes. We had tapas and a beer in a restaurant inside a modern development called Patio Bellavista. The food in Chile is plainer than Argentina, and seems to consist mainly of empanadas and chorillana (mentioned below). In terms of prices, the current euro rate is 750 chilean pesos to the euro. That tapas meal and drinks cost about 6,000 pesos, and the place is very upmarket. Wandering further up Pio Nono and past the scores of lively bars we had a quick drink before heading back to the hostel, deciding to be sensible for once and get some rest before seeing the city properly the following day.

So up early and refreshed we made for the tree lined bustling Plaza de Armas. Then to the site of the darkest moment in recent Chilean history, the presidential palace at La Moneda where Pinochet and his forces ousted the first democratically elected Marxist president in history, Salvador Allende who allegedly committed suicide during the coup here in 1973.

A few blocks away is the Museo de Arte Precolumbiano which has an amazing collection of indigenous art from all over Latin America. There are great displays on the role of the shaman across a lot of different cultures, who were at one point described as "little hallucinting men who resolved difficulties" After an hour of so wandering around we decided to take the funicular up to Cerro San Cristobal, on top of which stands a 22m statue of the Virgin Mary.

Santiago lies in a bowl between the Andes to the east and the Chilean Coastal Range to the west so the views from up here were pretty spectacular, looking out over ´Sanhatten´ the high rise financial centre and off to the snowy peaks in the distance. I bought myself a knock off Chilean footbal jersey, deciding that since Ireland will be a no show I may aswell support some other no hope long shot in South Africa.

Only 90 minutes from Santiago by bus, we arranged to go to Valparaiso that evening.

Valparaiso

Che Guevara fairly accurately dubbed Valparaiso a "madhouse museum" in his Motorcycle Diaries after spending a few days here in the early 1950´s. It doesnt seem that much has changed over the last half century. The streets are covered in grime, bottles, piles of twisted metal and hundreds of brightly coloured torn posters. Yet there were very few people about on the Sunday evening we pulled into town, gawping out the bus window at the chaos left in the wake of a long day of election campaigning (election to be held on 5th December). The city seemed to be breathing a sigh of relief after a hectic weekend.

A quick taxi ride from the bus station brought us up to Hostel Angel, perched on one of the many steep hills that run to their ends at the docks. Poor Sarah was very vocal about her displeasure at the unfolding situation..Cummings St looked like a bomb had hit it, ..a bomb full of little artists with cans of spray paint and a hatred for straight lines and tarmac.

We settled into the place quickly however, the very welcoming and friendly Marco giving us a quick crash course on the areas of interest, and those of danger. His father is the chief engineer on the city´s famous funiculars so we received expert advise on the ones to take and those not to bother with.

Valparaiso is Chile´s cultural capital, consisting of thousands of chaotic brightly painted adobe structures hanging on the hills over a busy and frenetic port. From the sea it must look like the arc of a rainbow hovering over an apocalyptic junkyard. We hadn´t eaten anything since breakfast, and it was approaching 7pm so I asked Marco to recommend somewhere to eat..he came up trumps.

Nobody does chorillana like JM Cruz´s. This little trinket filled haunt, covered of course in the ubiquitous graffiti of the city is a charming place to be introduced to Chile´s national dish - a huge helping of potatoes, onions, scrambled eggs and strips of beef drowned in gravy. We sat and watched re runs of a hilariously cringe worthy 70´s tv series called Operacion Rosa Rosa, washing down the chorillana with bottles of Pañana, a very tasty Bolivian brew. Then back to the hostel for a few drinks with an Austrian and a couple of Americans,..all of which I managed to insult very tastefully, much to Sarah´s be/amusement.

Next morning we had planned to go and visit Pablo Neruda´s house, but the place was closed. I was raging because we had missed out on visiting another of his houses in Santiago. Neruda is held in the same regard in Chile as Evita is in Argentina..a socialist hero of the people, and a winner of the Nobel prize for literature. So we walked down towards Plaza de Sotomayor, sat and had coffee on the square under the enormously imposing edifice of the Chilean Armada headquarters. Then up a nearby funicular to Cerro Concepcion and Cerro Allegre. This part of the city designated with World Heritage status in 2003 in recognition of the architectural and engineering wonders that are the city´s main form of transport up the hills. The funiculars are the oldest operating in the world, dating from 1883 and are for the most part in great nick. While the views out over the city and ocean are fantastic it is the architecture and rambling cobbled laneways, random stairwells and graffiti that are the real attraction. Valparaiso is a photographer´s playground, no matter where you look the potential for a postcard shot is there.

After a few hours of wandering around we found a restaurant whose balcony clung to a hillside, and sat drinking beer looking out over the harbour and at the sweeping vista of the city below.

That evening we took the short train journey to Viña del Mar, expecting the laid back beach resort we had read about. Unfortunately the place is just as gritty as its near neighbour, is chronically over built and resembles much of the ´holiday´ mayhem to be found on the southerm Spanish coast. We walked along the beachfront, where building sites were running drains straight into the sea amid seemingly nonchalant swimmers who fought with the rip to stay close to the shore. I got too much sun, and fearing sun stroke made for the trainstation, drank a few litres of water and fell gratefully into bed when we finally got back to the hostel. I surfaced a few hours later, and we spent a few hours chatting to a South African couple who too were on their way north to La Serena the following day. We arranged to stay in the same hostel, and bade them good night since our bus left at 8am the following morning.

Mendoza, Argentina - Nov 09

2009-12-03T06:33:00.007+08:00

Mendoza has a population of one million people and lies in a valley 100km west of the Andes. Open irrigation channels orginially built by the Inca´s to divert snowmelt down from the mountains still give life to the greenspaces of the city centre. Siesta time is taken very seriously here and everything shuts down from about 1pm till 5pm.

In 1861 the city was almost levelled by an earthquake. It was rebuilt to plan with plazas strategically placed every few blocks and there are lots of beautiful leafy sycamore trees lining the streets which provide much needed shade. It was 35 degrees celsius when we arrived!

The wine was of course the big draw for us here. It´s not like us to pass up the opportunity to visit a wine region! However the petroleum industry is in fact the primary industry here. Luckily enough the nearest refinery is located outside the city, well out of sight.

We were a little dazed and confused when we first arrived stepping drowsily from the bus. We checked into Hostel Lagares to a very friendly Javier who spoke English and was more than helpful! We splashed out ten euro for own room with air con., yahoo!

We wandered off down Avenida General San Martin and instantaneously fell in love with the place. There is a very relaxed vibe and it was a welcome break from the previous two hectic cities. We strolled to Plaza Indepencia which is in the heart of the city, and from there to Plaza Espana which is far more charming. Lunch was consumed in La Barca on Espejo, nice cheap eats. At this point James was nearing siesta time and so we headed back to the hostel. So whilst everyone slept I spent a couple of hours researching what exactly we were gonna do with ourselves for the next few weeks!

Later that night we headed out to La Buque on Sarmiento for dinner, as recommended by the local wine magazine. It was all fantastic till a tour bus of people poured in and kind of killed the buzz. But great meal all the same.

We headed off on the Alta Montana route the next day. After about twenty minutes of driving outside Mendoza and the wine region the green trees disappear and give way to a dusty, rocky landscape. The scenery is truly spectacular. The Alta Montana route follows the former Trans-Andean railway and the Rio Mendoza into the Uspallata valley. There are many points of interest along the way. The first stop was a small settlement in the Uspallata valley for our morning coffee! Thank God! Incidentally it is all the location where Brad Pitt filmed the movie Seven Years in Tibet.

From there we climbed further up the mountains along winding roads and amidst truly unbelievable landscapes. We stopped to stretch the legs at Los Penitentes, a popular winter ski resort. Obviously it was closed this time of year but it is a popular climbing spot in summer.

Next on the itinerary was the site where a small bridge erected by Ambrosio O´Higgins is located. It´s very small but has alot of historical value. So many old buildings were flattened during the 1861 earthquake that the city has very little pre dating architecture left. The Incas used this bridge and it was the site where General San Martin camped with his army before crossing the bridge and heading over the border to liberate Chile.

Next up was Puente Del Inca. This is a natural stone bridge which traverses the Rio de las Cuevas at 2700m. Thermal waters seep from rocks above downwards creating streaks of colour due to oxidation of copper and iron in the rocks creating a multi-coloured rock bridge. There used to be a spa resort located there in the 1940s but it was destroyed by an avalanche in 1965 and never rebuilt. There is a strong lobby to rebuild however given the potential toursim windfall due to the therapeutic properties of the water.

Also along the Alta Montana route is Parque Provincial Aconcagua. At 6959m Aconcagua is the highest mountain in the west and southern hemispheres. Unfortunately it was a cloudy day and the summit was obscured. In 1985 an Inca mummy was discovered at 5300m. Unfortunately Aconcagua is only for the most experienced of climbers.

That day we ascended from the city of Mendoza at 750m to 3200m at the Chilean border where we stoppped for lunch. I certainly felt the effects of the altitude at that point. Everyone was definitely moving alot slower and it was more a trudge up to second floor of the restaurant we had lunch in. Anything above 2400m you´re likely to feel the effects.

The following day we had a day off! We strolled over to Parque General San Martin which is 4 square km of green space. It is filled with all sorts of clubs, regatta, horse-riding, tennis etc We very much had a swim in mind and hearing the regatta club had a large pool on the lakefront in the park we decided we´d check it out. After a bit of confusion (and a quick medical!) we gained admission to the pool area where we stayed for the day reading our books and jumping in and out of the water periodically. Heaven!

Back on the tourist band wagon once again we set off on a wine tour on our last day in Mendoza. First stop was Septima which is very much a commercial winery and they make no show of hiding that. We had a tour of the winery and got a very comprehensive explanation on the wine making process. That tended to be the trend for the day in each place we visited. None of the places we visited were in fact the ones we were told we were going to, but no surprises there. We´ve leanred not to get indignant or annoyed about such things after S.E. Asia. You just don´t always get what you pay for. It was however a very informative day and I actually learned more about the wine making process here than we did in Australia. We were only given two wines to taste in each winery which we were surprised about. After coming from Oz where they start with the whites and make their way through the reds until you stumble out of the place we half came to expect this in Mendoza. The wineries here export 70-80% of their produce and so making cellar door sales is not very important to them. In fact most of the wines we tasted were average. The highlight of the day was the lunch we were served in Cava de Cano restaurant that included plenty of free flowing shiraz! Two long wooden tables were spread with a multitude of tapas and the waiters came in and out serving empanadas and other hot pastry delicacies!

There are 1200 bodegas (wineries) in Argentina, approximately 700 of which are in Mendoza. The wine was mostly sold on the local market until 2001 and the a turn in their economy for the worst meant they started to export worldwide. The USA is their biggest market.

The other two bodegas we went to were Cecchin Familia Bodega and Bodega Carmine Granata. Both were family owned and run the latter being one of the oldest ones in the area. They were still using large concrete vats down in the basement.

The Cecchin family are operating one of the only organic bodegas in the area. Our tour there started off out in the vineyard under olive trees before wandering inside to see how they produce their wine. Two old women were chatting at a table as they hand labelled the bottles. It was a very charming little place, our favourite - you gotta love the personal touch!
A great day over all. We met two lovely Irish girls who we got chatting to for the day so we had a bit of craic with them.

That evening we had to cancel our dinner reservations and admit defeat! Instead we strolled around Plaza Indepencia through the night market. Parks in Argentina always seem to be full with kissing couples. They are quite a passionate bunch.

And so that was it, Mendoza, tick. We could have spent weeks there but with time ticking we packed up and grabbed the next bus out of town, out of the country!

Rosario

2009-11-30T10:19:00.009+08:00

By the end of the first week in B.A. my digestive system was waving the white flag. Time to go! What a week though. All that alcohol, coffee, eating late and sleeping all hours has certainly not helped overcome the jetlag. Anyway we went to the main bus station which admittedly I was slightly nervous about. We had hear that it was mayhem, bus transport being the modus operandi of Argentinian domestic transport.

I had one phrase memorised in Spanish ´dos bileto, de ida a Rosario por favor´ so by the time we reached the top of the queue I spat it out quickly only to be told something in Spanish which I didnt understand... so then the fun began! Between the two helpful guys at the counter, some miming and our phrasebook we managed to purchase the aforementioned tickets, wuhoo!

We had heard about Argentinian buses and their relative comfort to other Latin America buses. Our curiousity was satisfied quickly and they met their reputation. It was only four hours to Rosario but we slept for most of it in our large reclinable seats.

We arrived into the city late and checked into Hostel Llanura which I have to plug here for the sheer efforts of it´s non-English speaking owners who go to every length to help you. It is also quite a new establishment and so our sheets came straight out of a new packet which made me very happy. There was a bunch of Americans in our dorm who informed us Manu Chao was playing that night in the city and tickets might still be available. They were living in B.A. and taking Spanish classes. After a quick shower we took advantge of them and their Spanish speaking ways in order to secure two tickets to Manu Chao. He is a French musician who has played all around the world, inlcuding Ireland where James saw him and he is particularly popular in South America. We were pretty excited about seeing him. We bought tickets at the door and as we queued to go in I observed the police everywhere all dressed in riot gear, helmets on and shields at the ready and couldn´t help think ´what the hell are we getting oursleves into here!!!!

However the atmosphere was jovial and so it made me feel more at ease. In hindsight the riot police were clearly scaremongering and also helping with crowd control.

On the way in the thunderous noise of drums and thousands of people chanting was resonating throughout the stadium and making the hairs on my arms stand on end even though there wasn´t a breeze in the air. The atmosphere was electric. At every entrance the doors were squashed with people. J pushed his way though to suss out the lay out and after a quick discussion we decided upstairs was better. The weather was pretty sticky outside, inside there was no air con., combined with alot of smoke made the place incredibly stuffy. It reminded me of gigs in the point back in the day when we all could smoke indoors. Glad those days our gone! The majority of the male contingency were topless in an effort to combat the overwhelming heat. The whole place was filled with topless, attractive, Argentinian males bouncing up and down singing at the top of their voice. It was a sight to behold let me tell you!! I think I stood with my mouth agape for a good five minutes we first got in! When Manu Chao came onstage the place went nuts, watching the antics on the ground floor was as entertaining as the gig itself. The whole floor seemed to move in waves, it was unbelievable. J and I were pretty happy we were above it all.

It was hot where we were I couldn´t even imagine what it would be like on the ground level surrounded by all that body heat too. That coupled with the fact that they were moshing and throwing themselves around the place like there was no tomorrow. Crowd surfing (long since banned at home) was a regular occurance here. Most people spilled over the barriers at the front where they were picked up by a bouncer and given a kick up the arse before being sent on their way. Only to get back into the crowd and do it again!

The crowd were very good spirited and there was no fights, when people fell others bent down to pick them up, when peoples faces met other peoples knees, it was all laughs and slaps on the backs, no aggressiveness at all which was the most amazing part. The gig itself was great. Really good dance/ reggae music, very cool. No alcohol is served either. A few very brave guys make their way though the crowds to try sell cups of coca-cola, holding their trays high above their heads. It was hilarious to watch them hesitantly make their way into the crowd on the ground floor, and then try scurry out with their wares intact when the crowd went nuts.

All in all it was a fantastic night. It was completely unexpected which made it even sweeter. We grabbed a quick bite to eat en route home about midnight (things were only kicking off at that hour) and fell into bed. I spent most of the night staring at the ceiling. Damn jetlag.

The next day we awoke and headed out to explore the city. It is infact the birthplace of Ernesto ´Che´ Guevara and so I was half expecting to see shops/ stalls everywhere selling Guevara badges, tshirts etc but that wasn´t the case. It was also Sunday, everything closes down on a Sunday in Argentina we quickly learned. We made our way down to the riverfront to where there is a large monument, Monumento a la Bandera, comemorating the spot where in 1812 General Belgrano first raised the Argentinian flag when they were liberated from Spain. We took the lift up this 70 metre tower for panormic views of the city and river.

It´s a big city, not as bigh as B.A. but lots of highrise and other similarities. It´s situated on a delta so there are many islands scattered in the river which have beaches and quite popular with the locals. The brown colour of the river did not however entice us!

We wandered around to other points of historical interest, the main plaza and it´s buildings down at the riverfront being very Stalinist in appearance surprisingly enough. We grabbed a late breakfast that day in a place called Newport cafe, nice spot with breakfast for less than five euro. We took a stroll around to the house where Che Guevara was born and lived in until he was two years old. It now houses offices and is not open to the public. A few blocks down the road there is a mural of Che´s face, so we had a quick gawk at it before heading back to the hostel.

We took it easy for a change that night, and got some much needed sleep! Our last day in Rosario was spent hanging around waiting for our bus that evening to Mendoza. Having pretty much seen all that Rosario had to offer we hung out in the hostel for awhile and strolled around Calles Cordoba for a few hours. The difference in the city from a Sunday to a weekday is incredible.

We also ventured into a supermarket out of curiousity only to be stunned by the prices. We had been spending what would be the relative equivalence of about 300 euro on meals in BA! The most expensive bottle of wine we could find in the supermarket was twelve euro!

Later that evening we boarded the night bus to Mendoza. Dinner, breakfast, blankets and pillows all inclusive in the price! The ticket was approximately 35 euro for a 14hour journey. They kicked off the journey with a game of bingo which was hilarious but it helped us practice our Spanish numbers, after that dinner was served and a movie switched on. Then lights out.

Argentina - No hablo espanol!

2009-11-25T04:56:00.005+08:00

Buenos Aires - open 25 hours!

After a monster of a 13 hour flight we hit the pavement in Buenos Aires at 11 am local time fairly wrecked. We took a bus into the city centre. I slept for the whole journey and only really realised I was on another continent when the heat and dirt hit me during the taxi ride to our hostel. We had booked into Millhouse on Hipolito Yrigoyen. In an effort to put our body clocks on the right path we had showers and headed out to look around the city.

The hostel is only a block or two from one of the main drags - Av de Mayo so we strolled down towards Plaza De Congresso on the hunt for some asado (bbq beef). It didnt take long to find an agreeable place with streetside seating. We were served up a parilla por dos for about 9 euro. It consisted of about 2 lbs of beef, a heap of offal and basket of chips. Just what we needed...well maybe not..

Afterwards we waddled our way around the Congresso where there were protests afoot at the presence of Israeli prime minister Shimon Peres in the capital. We skirted our way around the crowds and made for Plaza De Mayo and the pink facade of the main government buildings at Casa Rosada. At this point we were too tired to contemplate anything but bed so reluctantly trudged back to the hostel for a sleep.

First impressions: it´s a very big, busy city. It´s dirtier than expected, the pavements are broken up and generally a lot of dog shit everywhere. After the clean towns and cities of Oz and NZ the differences in basic sanitation is stark I suppose. It´s very humid, about 60% at the moment. Normally in new places we´re constantly talking and observing as we walk about but that first day we were so tired we were barely able to string a few sentences together so we wandered, nodded and pointed to each other. No major consensus was reached that day, but as the week progressed we liked this city more and more.

The exchange rate is great to the euro, approximately 5:1. Breakfast costs as little as 15 pesos and a main course in a basic restaurant can set you back as little as 20 pesos!

We need to brush up our Spanish pronto though. Smiling and pointing will only get us so far!

We took a walking tour of La Boca the next morning from the hostel. This is the poorest area of the inner city but it has partly converted itself into a tourist haven of a few blocks where colourful buildings mix with locals and con artists of all shapes and sizes in a neighbourhood called the Caminita. Home to the tango - which originated between drunken sailors and prostitutes here on the site of the original Spanish port - the streets are lined with restaurants and bars offering live music and tango shows. The area is equally as famous for its football team of course - Boca Juniors, and we went into the museum at the Bombarino. This is Maradonna´s stomping ground, and garish statues of him abound around the cobbled streets. Unfortunately there wasn´t to be a game for about a week so we missed the experience.

After lunch in a small restaurant near the stadium we bussed it back to Millhouse. If you are up for drinking and dancing till dawn, then Buenos Aires is the place for you. If you are up for drinking and dancing past dawn, then stay at the Millhouse.

We took a free tango class later that evening there and after a few beers five of us jumped into a taxi in search of one of the best steak houses in town. An American in the group had been to Restaurante La Cabrera a few months previously, so on his recommendation we sped towards the upmarket Palermo for some beef.

I have never tasted steak like it. I was in heaven. You could cut this stuff with a wooden spoon. Washed down with a few bottles of Malbec (possibly the finest wine on the planet) we struggled to get through 3 main courses between the five of us. The bill came to about 70 euros all in, including a generous tip. If you could find an equivalent standard of service, food, wine anywhere in Europe you would be doing well to get away without dropping more than four or five hundred euro. I can´t rave about this place enough. Go there. Save. Catch a flight to Sao Paolo, connect to Buenos Aires, eat steak, go home. Say no more.

So suitably delighted with ourselves (ourselves being myself, S, a Yank, a Danish journalist and a spaced out Swiss fella who had spent the last 10 months in Bolivia) we fell in and out of numerous bars on the vicinity until 6am. I love the light and the emptiness of big cities at dawn, and apparently I shouted as much repeatedly with my head out the window in the taxi all the way home, a big shit eating grin on my face. Viva la vida. Viva beef!

4pm- sore heads, discombobulation. Walked though the beautiful San Telmo, along Defensa to Plaza Dorrego for coffee and food (again..yes..) We sat on the plaza for about two hours watching a couple tango and taking in the atmosphere. Later that night (at about midnight - restaurants generally wont serve dinner until at least 8.30pm and don´t stop until maybe 1 or 2am) we found Museo de Jamon - another excellent restaurant. Very underdressed, and still slightly ´confused´ from the night before we were seated and made our way through another beef/Malbec combo spectacular. Ahhhh, its tough..it really is.

Determined not to turn into absolute messes and to educate ourselves a little on Argentinian history, we set off bright and early the next morning on a mission. Unfortunately the museum that we were aiming for was closed, so we ended up walking along the pedestrianised Calles Florida through to Recolletta. The cemetary here has about 5,000 mauseleums where the great and good of B.A have been entombed for over a century. Among the most prominant of these are two Irishmen, Fr Antonio Fahy and Admiral Brown. The former was a missionary, the latter founded the Argentinian Navy and both did tremendous work for the Irish community here. The interesting thing about the Irish in Argentina is that they are amongst the only emigrating Irish who were proactive colonisers, and not the displaced colonised. The bulk of the population came from Westmeath, Longford and Wexford and established significant land holdings and estancias (ranches) in the Pampas within 20 or 30 years. There are 70 year old men out on farms here who are third generation Irish, have never left the country and speak broken Spanish but great English in broad Westmeath accents.

The most famous tomb here though is that of Eva ´Evita´ Peron, the subject of much controversy and national emotion of which I wont go into here. Next to the cemetary is the second oldest church in the country, the Basilica de Nuestra Senora del Pilar which stands on the corner of a leafy square where we paused for coffee and a bite to eat. Then on to Puerto Madera, which was a fairly big walk in the heat. This is a regenerated dock land area which is fairly upmarket and full of bars and restaurants. We hung around there for an hour or so before strolling back to the hostel with the intention of taking it easy for the evening. Ha.

I bumped into a friend I hadnt seen in about 5 years - Ben. A Canadian who I´d been in college with on Erasmus in Copenhagen, we immediately made plans to meet for a beer. We had played a gig together in a dump of a bar in Denmark and when he found out I was travelling with the guitar..well you can guess where this is going. A few hours later we grabbed another ridiculous dinner in a nearby restaurant, the Swiss spacer and Ben´s mate from Toronto in tow.

Then back to the hostel where there was a DJ and bar set up for a few hours of gyrating, then on to a nightclub (Club 69...cheese haha) for more of the same. Driving in Latino countries is great - you have to have completed Mario Kart to get a licence over here. There is a 14 lane highway stretching through the centre of the city along Av 9 de Jullio (the widest boulevard in the world) and nobody pays any attention to lanes, indicates, or bats an eyelid at almost certain collision. Its marvelous. We got to the club in about 45 seconds. It reminded me of clubs I have been to in Madrid - with painted and feather bowet clad tranny hosts/hostesses running around to Samba techno. The kind of place a typical God fearing Guinness loving shirt wearing Naas man would faint in. Tommys to Club 69..taxi! haha! We lasted an hour or so before myself and Sarah ducked and dived home at about 4am, leaving the Canadians to their sordid devices.

Uruguay for a day!

Unfortunatey Millhouse was full for Friday night so we arose bleary eyed to make a move across town to the welcome calm and quiet of Hostel Arrabal. After showers we rushed to the docklands to catch a ferry across the Rio del Plata to the town of Colonia del Sacramento in Uruguay.

The ferry across was nice and smooth, apart from the giddy madness of the underage Uraguayan national rugby team who were clearly the worst for wear after presumably being hammered by their beef laden Argentinian counterparts. We slept and arrived in Colonia after about 1 1/2 hours. The ferry crosses the stretch of water where the Parana River and Uruguay River converge into the Rio de la Plata.

The Barrio Historico de Colonia is a world heritage site, and is a charmingly beautiful cobbled town with colourful buildings and a great atmosphere. Only having 4 hours to play with before returning to B.A, we made our way from the ferry port to the old town, through its stone gates, and explored the place. The town changed hands between the Portuguese and Spanish a number of times before finally being settled by the Spanish in 1777. The Brazilians had a go until the Uruguans took over in 1828. So we whiled away a few relaxing hours there, taking a break from the beef with a few burritos con pollo in a restaurant with a view of the water. The boat was running on South American time (ie anything between an hour and a week late) so we were late getting back to B.A were we were to meet my uncle Noel for dinner.

It was great to catch up with him and we had a fantastic meal (have a guess...) down at Puerto Madero before making it back to our hostel at a by now very respectable bed time of 2am.

Buenos Aires..jaysus!

moving

2009-11-23T12:11:00.000+08:00

We had a 24 hour stopover in Sydney before we caught our flight to Buenos Aires. it was just enough time to catch up with a few friends for drinks and say final goodbyes. That we´re on the homeward stretch it further compounded the wonderful memories we have of Oz and now NZ and how sad we were to leave. The past year has been phenomenal.

It was a case of Christchurch one day, Sydney the next and then Buenos Aires the day after. We didn´t know what to think or what to feel, we were all over the place in terms of emotion as well as physically.

But hey South America baby, here we come, yahoo!!!

Queenstown

2009-11-23T11:20:00.004+08:00

The lovely Queenstown, where to begin. The drive there from Te Anau is relatively quick (approx. 2.5 hours) the last stage winding along the lake side road of Wakatipu before coming the town centre is a beautiful drive. We stayed in the Southern Laughter Lounge, another nice spot. The level of backpacker accommodation in NZ is probably the best we´ve come across in terms of cleanliness and general services offered. Better than Australia I would even say.

The adrenaline pumping in the town is infectious. By this stage I was actually keen to get involved. The long and the short of it is James and I signed up to do the Nevis Arc and enquired after more sky-diving opportunities only to have them all cancelled due to high winds. We even got so far as getting to the Nevis Arc, up what was a very dangerous, rocky road to have it all called off. It was very disappointing. We had really psyched ourselves up to do what was probably one of the bravest/most stupid things I would have ever done and then we were told we couldn´t.

James responded by signing up to do a bungy. Ilena joined us in Queenstown the night before and she decided to do ittoo. Myself, Debbie and Niamh went along for moral support. My heart was in my mouth watching them do it. We must have watched about 20 jumps before theirs. I´ve never seen James more terrified. It was the site of the first ever bungy which was the creation of AJ Hackett. It´s off a Kawarau bridge just outside Queenstown. It is 43 metres high over a river gorge.

On the drive back from that we got a call from a paragliding company imaginatively monikered 0800 FLY WITH US whom had cancelled on the girls that morning to say they were back in action and were we still interested. I at that point was eager to do anything adventurous and so off we all sped to have these guys who were parked at the base of Coronet Peak awaiting us.

Coronet Peak peaks at 1650 metres. We took off maybe a couple hundred metres below that. It was a tandem paraglide. Niamh and Debbie went off first and we drove down the road to a field to watch them land. They did so safely and soundly and were very enthusiastic about it so Ilena and I went off in the van with nay a bother! Bit of a funny set up though. In the van was the guy running the show, his wife who was driving, their baby in the front seat and a dog, which took a liking to me but whom which I did not take a liking to!
Anyway en route we picked up a guy from some random house who turned out to be my tandem partner, very reassuring! So arrived at the top of the peak more or less, covered in dog hair I jumped out all of a sudden feeling a little nervous about the take off.

My guy kept telling me ´´just keep runnning Sarah even if you fell we´ve taken off´´ and so I did. It culminated in me running in the air before he told me to stop, very exhilarating! The funny thing was at the top there were two very old women in their flowery frocks oohing and ahhing and taking photos as we prepared for take off. Once airborne I realised how high we were, sitting there with my legs dangling in the wind was a little scary I have to admit. At one point he let me steer but I was more keen to hold to my handles than have any part in the operation of the parachute. As he yapped on and on about the wind direction and the logistics of the whole operation I took in the view of Lake Wakatipu and some of Queenstown and the surrounding countryside. It was great. On a good day he travels from Queenstown to Lake Wanaka like that! The landing was the craziest part, we spiralled down at an alarming rate. It was nauseating and exhilarating at the same time. I pretty much screamed my head off much to his amusement. More running in the air before we reached the ground for a smooth landing. Great fun, I highly recommend it.

The rest of our time in Queenstown was spent in the many bars and restaurants there. Fergburger deserves a mention. James had heard about this place from friends so we checked it out and yes they are the best burgers I´ve ever tasted.

James and I also caught the cable car up one of the mountains for views over Queenstown and Lake Wakitipu. Absolutely spectacular. We also caught up with Aine, an old work colleague of James from AIB. It´s very much a party town and so there were plenty of options both evenings. It´s a great spot in general and not hard to see why it´s such a tourist trap. The whole town is centred around adrenaline pumping activities and beautiful views.

From there it was goodbyes to the girls and a long drive back to Christchurch the night before our flight.

New Zealand is an incredible country. We were there just short of a month, and it was the most varied few weeks I could have imagined. From beaches up north, to glaciers and fiords down south the abundance of things to do is overwhelming. We certainly did the place justice and covered good ground. I´d go back in a heartbeat, we had an amazing time

Wanaka & Milford Sound

2009-11-23T10:53:00.007+08:00

So after a few days of carnage onwards we went to Lake Wanaka with Niamh and her friend Debbie in tow this time, the company was great. It was all a bit surreal seeing Niamh again, I can only imagine what it will be like seeing the rest of the clan, nuts springs to mind.

That morning when we woke up Roz's cat had mysteriosuly died over night. It was dead in the driveway,no obvious signs of trauma. It was a bit sinister, very sad too. She was the cutest little thing whom we had all fallen in love with over the three days prior. Myself and Niamh and Ilena were huddled around her in our pj's with our mouths open wondering what had happened.

I then opened my cards and presents! I love birthdays. I'm never one to shy away from birthday celebrations and was very much looking forward to our stay in Wanaka.

James had been to Wanaka before and had very much sold it to me. On the drive there I was psyching myself up to doing a skydive and as it was the first building practically on the way into town we pulled in, only to be told it was too windy. We re-scheduled for the following day but it was not to be, windy conditions prevailed.

We stayed in the YHA aka purple Cow, which I highly reccommend to anyone heading that way, it is not your average hostel and suited to any age group really. Rooms one and two come with a view and seeing as it was my birthday we all splashed out and took the two best rooms. From there it was on to a bar near the lake front, cocktails in the mexican restaurant and dinner in a restaurant called Reef, I highly recommend the surf n' turf if you should ever go there. It is divine!

It was however a Monday night and so after dinner we were homeward bound as all the pubs were closed. Another very memorable birthady however, in another beautiful place.

We drove via Arrowtown the follwing day to Te Anau (gateway to Milford Sound) We stopped en route to do the Shotover Jet which I know some of you have done! It was great fun, we felt it was the best way to ease ourselves into the adrenaline fuelled fun that is on offer in Queenstown. Those jetboats only need four inches of water to operate over. They zoom in and around the rocky gorge bringing you within a hairs breadth of the rock face, or so it seems. Lots of 360's and screams!

We stopped in the picturesque Arrowtown after for some lunch/ dinner before heading onwards to Te Anau. We stayed in the Lakefront backapackers there. Ours was a 4 bed fully self contained unit so a nice little set up.

Milford Sound

We set off before 7.30am the following day. That time of the morning is too early for the tour buses so traffic is light and you have the road to youself almost. The mist was still lifting from the meadows as we drove. It was really, really beautiful. That road between Te Anau and Milford is the most avalanche prone road in the world apparently. It costs the New Zealand government over NZ$1 million a year annually to keep it open. It is the one of the highest highway in NZ and it rises 940 metres above sea level at its´ peak. Tree avalanches are a common occurrence too. A certain type of tree (whose name escapes me)wrap their roots around each other for support so when one dies it lets go and tends to bring the others with it. A recent one they had there made the road impassable for 7 days! It basically causes a big landslide as it falls downhill.

We intended to drive straight to the wharf and do our stopping and photo taking on the way back. I do however advise any future visitors to stop at the Mirror Lakes in the morning, the sun is on the right side, there ain´t no mirror in the afternoon. It´s 120km drive and takes two hours at that hour of the morning.

We took a cruise with Red Boats at 10.30 for two hours. We went out along the south side of the sound to the Tasman sea and back in along the north side to the wharf. There was plenty of stopping at points of interests, mostly waterfalls. We were incredibly lucky to have a sunny day and blue skies. Nine days without rain is considered drought in Milford. There is in fact a lot of mineral wealth to the area, all protected due to it´s World Heritage status. Iron ore, copper and gold seams can be seen on some rock faces. Lots of waterfalls, Stirling being the most famous. Mitre Peak rise 1692 metres from the sea level. It´s quite an impressive sight. Mostly what is so stunning is the sheer beauty of the surrounding landscape enveloping the sound.

Techinically it´s a fjord we learned. A sound is a u-shaped valley filled with ocean cut by a river, and a fjord is a u-shapd valley filled with ocean cut by a glacier. It is the kind of place that you can´t stop taking photos, at every turn is more stunning views. I had to stop myself from viewing it all through a lens and just experience it too.

On our way back in we saw some fur seals sunning themselves on the rocks. The boat we were in was small enough that the captin gets it right up to the sheer rock faces of the surrounding mountains which is great. Interestingly enough there is up to 6 metres of freshwater on top of the seawater in the sound from the surrounding rivers pouring in, so it makes for a pretty diverse marine environment. At it´s deepest the water is almost 300 metres!

The overall experience that morning was fantastic. Indeed the weather played a massive part but the sheer enormity of the landscape is as much of a draw as anything else I reckon.

So anyway after that we drove to the start of the walking track to Lake Marian. This is about half an hour back along the road to Te Anau. I had been told about this place by a guy in a shop where I bought a rain jacket in Wellington! James and I were really keen to do some kind of hill-walking/ trekking in the fjordland area, but hadn´t really any of the right gear and were reluctant to buy some (extra baggage). So this guy told this walk was great, and we could do it unguided so it sounded perfect. I did some research and the photos further sold it to me.

He did however omit that is quite a steep incline on the way up to the lake. It´s pretty much an uphill climb for an hour. Personally I love the challenge and it makes the view at the top that bit more rewarding. The walk up is all through rainforest and covered for the most part. At the top you emerge into a large glacial basin where Lake Marian is sitting in the middle surrounded on all sides by mountains with snowy peaks. Breath-taking. Nothing I could say would do the view justice. At different times of the year the levels of the lake vary and so sometimes it can be right up level with the clearing. There is a waterfall coming down from one of the nearby mountains too. Another surreal moment where I wonder to myself at the amazement of the place. We didnt meet many people on the trail or up there. There´s no chance the grey army would make it up that hill and the Chinese coach tours don´t stop there! So you can easily find a patch of grass to plonk down on and relax. Which is exactly what we did.

We toasted that day back in the room over a cooked dinner, followed by some more drinks in the local ´Moose Me´. We were challenged my the locals to a game of pool. Team Morrin stepped up to the mark and did Debbie and I proud. They very narrowly lost but not before Niamh could show the lads up with some killers shots!

Hokitika & Timaru

2009-11-20T04:23:00.005+08:00

We made it to the coastal town of Hokitika at nightfall, absolutley wrecked after the glacier hike. We found a really cosy hostel called Birdsong, and after a warm welcome there we drove down the road to a glow worm dell for a look. We spent a few minutes there and headed back, chatting to a few people for a while before hitting the leaba.

Next morning we took a quick look around the town itself. It is famous for its Jade production, so Sarah got her birthday present there! The plan was to hit the road and get to Timaru to meet Niamh, Debbie and Ilena there later that night. We were very excited to catch up and made good time there. The drive across Arthurs Pass and the Southern Alps is amazing, and takes in some of the nicest scenery in the country.

We caught up with the girls that evening, and after a trip to the supermarket to pick up supplies we settled into Ilena´s house and started to catch up over a few beers. Niamh and Debbie were pretty tired after the trip, so they slept for a few hours before we all hit the town for the night.

Timaru is a small town, there doesnt really seem to be a hell of a lot going on to be honest. We drank in the Sail and Anchor for a few hours, and called into a kebab shop en route home! The next day we farted around the house before heading to a bbq at a friend of Ilenas for a house warming. We turned up with a lot of booze, and pretty much sat in a corner consuming it for the first few hours. There were a few interesting characters in attendance, and it wasnt long before large middle aged ladies and gents were practising scrummaging techniques on each other in the living room. Nice.

Again to the Sail and Anchor where it was a fair bit more lively. Silly dancing with silly people dressed up for the night.

Next morning we all piled into the car for the hour or so journey to Lake Tekapo. First stop a beautiful stone chapel that looks out onto the lake. The colour of the lake is surreal. It is a bright almost flourescent blue, and it contrasts wildly with the surrounding landcape. Then up to the Mt John Observatory for spectacular views of the region (including Mt Cook in the distance). Undoubtedly The highlight of the day were the hot baths by the lakeside. We spent about 2 hours soaking between the three large outdoor baths and an indoor sauna and plunge pool. Back to Timaru and a slap up Indian meal before turning in for the evening.

Franz Josef - November 09

2009-11-19T09:02:00.004+08:00

We arrived into Franz Josef early having made our way an the coastal road from Punakaiki that morning. The intention was to do a heli hike on the glacier that afternoon, but alas the weather gods conspired against us and all flights were cancelled. In fact we were to end up spending 3 nights in Franz due to the weather. Our first preference was to fork out the cash and take in the glaicer from above before landing about three quarters of the way up it and hiking for two hours before being whisked back to town. We spent the first afternoon walking up to the terminal faces of both Franz Josef and Fox glaciers (Fox is only a 30 minute drive away).

The glaciers were amazing. Like giant tsunami´s frozen in time the sheer power of their destruction is breathtaking. To get to Franz takes about 40 minutes walking along the valley floor - a gravel strewn testament to the might of the billion tonnes of ice that slowly ground its way overland. Franz moves a staggering 1 metre a day, and a few reckless tourists have felt the wrath of its unpredicatble movements in the past. You are strongly advised therefore not to go more than about 40 metres from the terminal face without a guide.

We stayed in a hostel in the town centre called Rainforest Retreat, and took advantage of the sauna there later that night before hitting the hay. Unfortunately the weather did not improve sufficiently the next day for us to get airborne, so we took the day off and read/drank coffee. It cleared up in the afternoon for a short spell. Just enough time for us to get to Franz Josef and see the top before the clouds moved back over again. We decided to book a day hike for the following morning, hail rain or snow, and wrote off our hopes of aerial views.

We set off at about 9am in a group of 20 with three guides. We were fully kitted out with gortex jackets, water proof pants, socks hats, gloves..the works! The first stretch of the hike is up to the face itself, which we had done twice at that stage so we were eager to get up onto the ice. After stopping to put on crampons the toughest part of the day was getting up the steep grey face. It is strewn with rocks and gravel until you get a few hundred metres up and when it begins to level out and the ice becomes cleaner. After about 2 hours we stopped for a rest and a bite to eat, and to take in the view. The further we moved the more amazing the ice formations and colours got. There are only 6 glaciers in the world where it is possible to get a commercial guided hike, and with most of them melting away at alarming rates if you are keen to do it I´d advise taking action sooner rather than later, and snapping a few pics to tell the grandkids all about it!

Progress was slow with constant stops to allow the guide to cut more steps into the ice with his pick, so there were plenty of opportunities to take photos. We squeezed through crevasses no wider than about half a metre, and maybe 10 metres deep in places - not for the closterphobic! Rain and more rain is great for tourists on the ice - cave formations are at their best after a few days of precipitation. The constantly changing landscape makes guiding a joy I´d say - virtually no two trips up are the same with crevasses and new caves appearing and disappearing all the time. Its a big winter wonderland up there, and we finally came to a halt at 600 metres above sea level to have lunch.

Initially the crevasses run vertically because of the way the glacier fans out in wider parts of the valley. As you go higher and over the mountain ridge, the ice breaks in such a way that the crevasses run horizontally and so it´s a case of up and over them. That part was great, stopping waiting for the guides to figure out the safest way over, chiseling out steps and securing rope for the climb. On the lower part of the glacier there are guys chiseling out steps full time because the glacier is moving and changing everyday. It´s incredible. Further up is where the good stuff is, the blue ice. We were lucky to see a cave and a tunnel, mostly due to the previous few days preciptation.

A green parrot with streaks of red under its wings had joined us - Kea´s are the planets only alpine parrots, and the last kind of creature you would expect on a glacier. They were almost hunted into oblivion by farmers here because of their tendency to chew on the backs of sheep, and peck lambs eyes out. Now they just annoy tourists and eat windscreen wipers. For the princely sum of $2000 you can send one of these fellas to parrot heaven, and I´m sure a few farmers still do on occasion!

So we made our way down fairly slowly, and were suitably wrecked by the time we fell back into the hostel at 6pm. It was a fantastic experience.

Punakaiki - November 2nd

2009-11-04T10:14:00.006+08:00

On our last morning at the Barn we opened our door to find the resident ducks waddling towards us looking for some breakfast. We obliged them and fed them bread for awhile. Funny, because James smacks his lips together when he sees duck, I know he's picturing it roasted with some plum sauce whilst I'm thinking aww little ducks lets feed them. He had his hands around the fattest at one point but they all escaped with their lives this time!

We were heading south down along the west coast of the island that day. The west coast and Punakaiki were highly recommended to us by our different guides in Abel Tasman. It was a mostly inland winding road heading south coming out onto the coastline less than 100km north of Punakaiki.

The Lonely PLanet came through for us big time here. We found Te Nikau retreat which had a glowing review which it more than lived up to. The retreat consists of 9 different buildings and hideaways. We were in the Magnolia room of one such cosy house. The rainforest completely enveloped it right up to the edge of the wooden decking surrounding the house. There are other small cabins dotted throughout the property which is nestled in amongst the rainforest halfway between the main road and the beach. We decided to grab a bottle of wine in Punakaiki Tavern before settling in for the evening. As we walked in the door and spotted the fire blazing, a dog panned out in front of it and rugby on tv I knew we wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

After we pulled ourselves away from there we took a stroll down to the beach. Now let me try paint a picture of the beach. It was a far cry from those we had grown accostomed to over the past year or so. If you can think of scenes from 'The Piano' which was filmed in NZ, the enormous mountains covered in green lush dripping wet rainforest which rolls down to the shore almost. The dark,muddy, brown colour of the sands with grey and white foamy water crashing upon it is wildly beautiful.

The stretch of coast along the SH6 is covered with this type of scenery. This is dubbed as one of the best coastal drives in the world by our water taxi skipper. We unfortunately had a very cloudy day and the cover was so low in fact the mountain peaks were fully obscured. At times the ocean was almost invisible. But it was an impressive drive nonetheless. The misty clouds lent that whole stretch of coast a moody feel! A black and white version of Australia's Great Ocean road!

We settled in for the evening and got chatting to a couple other backpackers in our house, a Spanish and a German couple, and freakily enough a guy we had spotted on the west coast in Oz at a roadhouse, and then later again in Coral bay. Lets just say he's a very recognisable person. I couldn't believe it when he came in the door. What are the odds?!

We hit the hay soon after looking forward to reaching Franz Josef early the following morning. Punakaiki had turned out to be one of those lovely unexpected, unplanned places that occasionally you come across when on the road.

New Zealand - South Island Nov '09

2009-11-04T06:29:00.006+08:00

Abel Tasman National Park

The ferry crossing over to Picton passed by fairly quickly and the views coming into Picton through the sounds was great. We made our way to Marahau which is where we were booked in to stay for three nights. The village is the gateway to Abel Tasman National Park. There is very little to it, it's the ideal place to stay if you want to be on the parks doorstep. We stayed in a place called The Barn which was a backpackers plus they had small wooden cabins so we splashed out (NZ$60) and got ourselves one! They are backed by gigantic mountains covered in rainforest and mist and through the trees in front of us we could see the ocean. The communal area inside was super cosy with a fire burning and it was possibly of the cosiest places we've stayed.

On our first full day we headed down to the water taxi base and were loaded up on the speedboat/ water taxi and towed down the road to the beach by a tractor. As we sped along the coastline the skipper informed us that Abel Tasman has the greatest tidal range in NZ, it stretches out as far as 400m on the beach in Marahau and the depth is between 4-8 metres! So you want to make sure you know you're tide times in the park when hiking!

Abel Tasman himself arrived here in 1642 but he in fact never came ashore. He instead anchored offshore and the Maori people of the area sent a boat out to meet him. To cut a long story short his intentions were lost in translation and whilst he blew his trumpet to welcome them and sent a boat of men to meet them, this was interpreted by the Maori tribe as a declaration of war and they murdered everyone on his small convoy bar one dude who somehow made it back to Abel who was probably swilling gin somewhere aboard only to be told 'we need to get the feck out of here!' And so they did. Off to Austrlaia he went, but that's another story.

Why you may ask have they named a national park in his honour. Well some lady whose name escapes me wanted to establish the area as national park back in the 1942. She contacted the NZ government regarding it only to be told they were far too busy with WW 2 issues. So she contacted the Dutch government and told them her wishes, and also that it was the 300th anniversary of Abel's initial arrival and they were only too happy to get involved. In fact the Queen of Holland came out and officially opened the park. The park itself is therefore relatively young, and for that reson the trees aren't massive as it's only in it's second generation of regrowth apparently. Before it was national park much of it was burnt or chopped down by the people of the area.

On the way along the coastline our water taxi stopped in various bays to drop off people, and also sped past Adele island en route. Adele was the wife of Captain Dervail (a Frenchman, who actually managed to come ashore here). The island directly across from what is now called Watering Cove (where Dervail gained fresh drinking water) has two distinct humps, he was clearing missing his wife when he thought of that one!

Abel Tasman looks a bit like Jurassic Park when you see it from the water. The trees and ferns grow right up to the waters edge. We didn't have any very sunny days there unfortunately, but even on the cloudy ones you could see the beautiful blue/ turquoise colour of the water. I'd love to go back in the summer and make more use of those stunning beaches.

We got up close to Tonga Island and saw a few seals chilling out on the rocks which was pretty cool. James and I jumoped off in Tonga Bay and hiked 13km back to Anchorage Bay. It was a lovely hike challenging in sections but for the most part easy. Whilst walking through the park is great and occasionally you traipse acorss a beach or past a lookout point, we were to learn the following day seeing the park is much better on water.

We rented kayaks the following day and had our own personal guide to bring us out and along the coast. It is sea kayaking which we've never done before and luck was on our side that day. When we arrived at the beach the sea looked like one giant lake. The paddles sliced easily through the water as we headed out. James and I were in a double kayak too which halves the work. Our guide was an Aussie who been livig in NZ for years, and besides sea-kayaking he was also quite proficient in mountaineering and advanced snow-boarding. Yes he was one of those types that follows the seaons for his work. Pretty sweet existence eh.

It felt like we had the water to oursleves that morning, it's still pre-peak season which is why it was just the three of us. Plus we headed out earlier than the other tour groups. It felt like we had the water to oursleves that morning. Plus we headed out earlier than the other tour groups. We were kaykaing about 10km from Marahau beach to Watering Cove. We also went out to Adele Island and got up close and personal with the seals. That was amaaazing! The papabears are beasts weighing up to 160kgs, whilst the mamas are 40-60kgs. One curious mama came out to have a look, she swam around our kayaks and under them. It was incredible being that close to them. They are called New Zealand fur seals but in fact are actually sea lions. The difference is that sea lions have external ears, and they have a nail on their flippers, their flippers are used like limbs to get about the rocks, they don't wiggle and squirm like seals do. Fascinating stuff. They can dive down to 200m metres too!

We saw lots of wildlife that morning, including cormorants/ shags and variable oyster catchers! Now those birds are funny. They mate for life and when their partner dies they become a widow/er. They live in the same place all their lives, and so are very territorial. If you walk along their end of the beach they will run alongside you. We paddled close to the shore peering in and out of crevasses and caves in the karst rock. We saw a billy goat at one point perched on the rock face shaking his hairy chin at us.

We came ashore at Watering Cove after three hours of bobbing and paddling about. It is far better to see the park like that. It's all about the coastline of the park, the beautiful colours of the water, the lovely yellow beaches, and the rocky outcrops of limestone, granite and karst. However from there we had to hike back to base. It was about a 12km hike so we were pretty pooped when we finally got back to the Barn.

The Barn had the perfect solution to soothe away the days work - outdoor baths. Now these are not the fancy type, they are merely stand alone bath tubs that are cordoned off to some extent. So we filled them up with hot water and sat across from each other drinking wine and periodically topping up on hot water. Bliss!

Abel Tasman has been the highlight so far since getting to NZ, fantastic spot.

Wellington

2009-11-03T15:17:00.005+08:00

This was my second time in Wellington - the previous being a blustery and disappointing few days there in 2005 watching the Lions lose a second test to the All Blacks. Happily this was a better experience!

We stayed in Base, a huge hostel on Cambridge Terrace, and wandered around the city centre for a bit, taking the cable car up to a lookout point at the Botanical Gardens. Then afterwards to the awful looking Beehive, the not so awful Parliamentary Buildings & Library and a quick drink in Room on the wharf. Again the weather was grim, so we chilled out and decided to go to the cinema to see This Is It. I was moonwalking in my sleep that night;)

Again with time to kill and the elements against us we had a lazy morning over a slow breakfast on Courteney Place, followed by a few hours of wandering aimlessly.
We met a Ed, a friend from home in Macs Brewery for dinner and drinks that night. It was good to catch up, and we made it back to Base a few hours later to pack our bags for the morning ferry southwards.

Rotorua & Tongariro National Park

2009-10-26T15:31:00.003+08:00

We covered the ground between Paihia and Rotorua in about 6 hours, leaving at 8am and driving out along the shoreline for one last glimpse at the spectacular view of the bay before turning south towards Auckland and Waikato country.

The countryside north of Auckland is fairly familiar to us, just as green if a little more undulating than home with plenty of sheep and cattle grazing and narrow roads.

It has the odd splash of fern and palm tree, huge orchards by the side of the road and fields of lilies however to remind you you ain't exactly on the back road between Kill and Johnstown!

Upon arrival in our hostel (Crank) in central Rotorua we were immediately impressed with our accommodation. There was a climbing wall, a cinema, cold beer and cheap rooms - definitely recommended! The smell of sulphur in the air is pretty apparent once you enter town, so we were spurred into action when we noticed that the Polynesian Spa was just around the corner.

The setting here is fantastic, with pools ranging in temperatures from 37 to 42 degrees Celsius dotted around a wooden decking that leads to the lakes edge. We spent an hour or so lolling about between them and the freezing showers. It was incredibly relaxing, even with the arrival of a hoard of Korean tourists!

The baths were established by a Catholic priest in the 1880's (no cheap jokes here, no sir not me) who had arthritis. He hand dug a hollow in the soil a few metres from the lake and jumped in. The buzz was well and truly started when he built wooden decking around the original baths, which you can see (but not touch)
nestled amongst today's existing pools where himself and lots of other naked fellas could get together and discuss the finer points of alter boy etiquette - sorry couldn't resist;)

Next morning we drove the length of Fenton St to Whakarewarera (or Te Whakarewarewatanga O Te Ope Taua A Wahiao in full for the linguists among you). This is a living thermal village - a cluster of wooden structures built on active geothermal land and home to 18 families who seem to make a fairly handsome living from showing their village off to the world. We caught a cultural performance which consisted of a few traditional Maori songs and dances (including the Haka of course) and then took a guided tour through the village.

Its a fascinating place. Before electricity arrived it must have been quite the luxury to live there. Each house has its own cooking pit - basically a hole dug into some 'thin ground' through which boiling water bubbles completely free of charge and hassle. You can buy corn on the cob freshly boiled in a thermal pool - you definitely don't want to fall into any of these things. The temperature can get up to 200 degrees, you'd be destroyed! After a good look around, and many inadequately answered questions to the guide about life expectancy rates and fights over the land rights amongst the Maori before settlement (the latter was responded to with a gruff statement to the effect of 'I'd like to see anybody bloody try it') we finished up at a platform viewing the Prince of Wales Feathers Geyser. Its a pretty spectacular sight, albeit only sending up a spray of about 5 metres (it can get to over 20 metres!). Beside it is the more famous Pohutu geyser too. The bridge into the village was a hive of activity with 'penny divers' - children from the village following the dubious old tradition of plunging into the water below for tourist gold coins - making a racket and half drowning themselves for a few bucks.

We had heard about a spot called Kerosene Creek about 20 km out of town, so after lunch down by the lakeside we decided to check it out. This is the only free 'thermal experience' available to the public around Rotorua. A couple of kilometres off the main road and down a dirt track a wee carpark spills into the forest and a cascading creek. We followed the river downstream on foot, passing smiling towel clutching folk making their way back up to their cars. Wasting no time I dipped my foot into the side of a natural swimming hole. It was almost too hot to get into. Unbelievable. We edged ourselves into the water, up to about 3 feet - perfect bath height and submerged. Heaven. I crawled through the current and up under a waterfall to get a massage from the falling water on my shoulders. It must have been at least 38 degrees. What an experience. Suitably scrubbed courtesy of mother nature for the evening we made it back to the hostel and collapsed into welcome sleep for the night.

Taupo lies about 80 km south of Rotorua, and is the largest lake in the country. It too is a geothermal region, but we didn't go in for any water based activities choosing instead to drive around he southern tip of the lake and head south west for Tongariro National Park. The drive was stunning - the overcast weather giving the lake an eerie grey coat. It was quite windy too so we only stopped briefly on the shore to get a closer look. With time restraints we wanted to get to the park as soon as possible, but managed to stop at the beautifully blue Huka Falls en route. We made good time towards Whakapapa Village - the gateway to the peaks of Ruapehu, Nguaruhoe and Tongariro.

The most recent eruptions here occured in 1996 - so it is very mych still active! Mount Ruapehu was used as Mordors Mt Doom in Lord of the Rings, and is the tallest of the three at 2,797 m.

We found a cheap log cabin to rent for the night and set off on two separate walks that afternoon. The first brought us to Taranaki Falls, and the second to Silica Rapids. Both walks were about 2 hours return, the latter following the golden bed of a river coloured by the process of oxidation in the water. Unfortunately the cloud cover was too dense for us to be able to see the peaks, but we fell back into the cabin later that night satisfied we had seen as much as we could have on the day.

The sun did break through early the next morning as we left though an as we made our way south towards Wellington we were afforded spectacular views of the snowy summits.

Bay of Islands Oct 09

2009-10-26T15:09:00.004+08:00

We arrived late into Paihia and checked into the Peppertree hostel which deserves a mention. It is a charming little hostel run by a couple in there late 40's at a guess. Jan is like a mother hen coming into the kitchen in the evening with fresh, clean, dry dish cloths which is novel for a hostel let me tell you! Everyone was on their best behavior and so the kitchen remained spotless. She clucked about all the same wiping down counters and reminding everyone to wash their dishes! Her husband came down at 11.30pm to close up the tv room and kitchen area so we were all scooted out with the option of bed or to the pub across the road. There was a lovely familial vibe to the place. We spent three nights there. Of course with the joys of traveling comes the joys of sharing dorms again and those people who snore very loudly after they stumble in full of a bucket load of pints. But we struggle on.........

We spent a day exploring by car the nearby town of KeriKeri and it's surrounds before coming back to Paihia to soak in the abundance of beautiful scenery it had on offer. Day two we went out on the water for the day. We were lucky enough to have an absolutely fantastic day and so the colour of the water and the contrasting green roling hills of the many islands and on the main land was very dramatic. Before we knew our boat was surrounded by a pod of bottlenose dolphins who were leaping in and out of the water much to our delight. What a way to start your day cruising alongside dolphins. Unfortunately we couldn't swim with them as there were a few babies amongst the pod which was disappointing as that's what we had been hoping to do.

We spent the day cruising from one island to the next as the ferry company dropped off mail bags to home owners or island owners in some cases. The boat was following what was the old dairy route from years ago that the milkman made to those living on the islands in the bay. Nowadays you can buy your own island there for as little as NZ$3 million and bays go for about NZ$7 milllion!!!! We stood with our mouths agape whilst these various people bounded down to their wharfs to pick up the mailbags as we chugged in. It was mostly the caretakers we encountered of course generally with a dog in tow. The ferry companies come armed with dog biscuits and the dogs are generally down at the wharf edge barking there heads off within seconds of the captain hooting his horn!

It was all very entertaining and interesting witnessing how the other half lives! We weren't doing too badly mind you! The captain pointed out islands and bays of historical interest and filled us with Maori legends and facts of the area. It was great. We pulled into one bay for lunch and climbed to a nearby lookout for more stunning views. James and I had a quick swim before getting back on the boat. We ventured as far out as Cape Brett where the captain navigated the boat through the 'Hole in the Rock' which was pretty exciting! All round it was a fantastic day and I can't recommend it enough to anyone who makes it out here in the future.

James and I jumped off in Russell on the way back and had a stroll around what is a quaint fishing village which was stuffed full of people who had arrived in the previous night after a sailing race from Auckland. There was lots of celebrating going on and so we did what we do best and joined in for awhile sipping on some nice wine overlooking the Bay of Islands as the sun set.

New Zealand!!!!! - Auckland, the City of Sails

2009-10-26T14:43:00.005+08:00

October 21st 2009

We arrived in Auckland mid-afternoon and headed out for a wander in the city. One of the first things that struck us was the massive Asian population. It is great to be back on the road and moving again. I still find it hard to believe our time is up in Australia and now we are finally in New Zealand. The first new country in a year. The excitement of having somewhere new to explore hit us and we are well and truly looking forward to the next few weeks here. We arose early the following day planning to tick the city of our list within a few hours. We are in fast tourism mode once again! We caught the ferry at 8am to Devonport. This is a suburb almost entirely surrounded by water, which has a fantastic view back over the city. We climbed Mt. Victoria, a distinct volcano to get an even better view of the Auckland skyline. It reminded me a lot of Sydney. The Sky Tower, the large harbour full of yachts and boats. All it lacked were some iconic features, namely an opera house and big bridge! Also the industrial part to the harbour is quite close to the CBD, which takes away from it a bit I reckon. But still very much impressed nonetheless.

From there we walked to the Domain and into the national museum to brush up on Maori culture, the volcanic history of the country and the achievements of Sir Edmund Hillary! The last stop was the Sky Tower where we were just in time to see some guy hurl himself over the edge with the help of three ropes, not quite a bungy more an abseil down 328 metres head first! My lunch nearly came up just looking at him.

There is a fantastic view of the city up there. Interestingly enough it was only finished in 1997 and is the tallest structure in the Southern Hemisphere at 328m high.

Auckland, tick.

Just one more day....................

2009-10-22T17:41:00.000+08:00

Well as we had it luck was on our side and that wish everyone makes before leaving somewhere they don't want to, came through for us. Initially it didn't feel like that when missed our flight to NZ due to visa issues in Sydney but as the problem was solved we realised we had an extra unexpected day in Sydney to play with! It didn't take us long to figure out how to spend it. Before you can say Manly we were on the ferry to our beloved spot! Somebody was really trying to tell us something we reckon! The sun was shining and we were beaming as we boarded the ferry. I'll never tire of that ride across the harbour. We headed straight to Shelley Beach and slept, swam and relaxed there for the day. WE had less than four hours sleep on the plane and time difference was not on our side so the warm sands of Shelley were a welcome relief. We sat there marvelling at the opportunity to hang out there again for a day.

Naturally we caught up with Colin in the wharf bar and sat watching the sun sat across the harbour before catching one of the last ferries back to the city. The night ferry is just as spectacular. City lights, the harbour bridge and the opera house take your breath away as you round the bend and into Circular Quay.

Now we were ready to go.

Australia Top Ten!

2009-10-19T20:30:00.003+08:00

These are mostly based on our experiences in these places, as well as the sheer beauty. it's also a list of what not to miss if you come to Australia according to us!

In no particular order:

1. Blue Mountains, NSW
2. Treachery camp at Seals Rock, NSW
3. Fraser Island, QLD
4. Whitehaven Beach, Whitsunday Island, QLD
5. Shelley Beach, Manly NSW
6. Wilsons Promontory, Vic
7. Great Ocean Road, Vic
8. Coral Bay, W.A.
9. Margaret River, W.A.
10. Rottnest Island, W.A.

Others to note were Spring Gully in Lamington National Park, QLD, Saphire Coast in NSW. Also Mallacoota in Victoria. Sydney is general is a massive highlight, we had such a fantastic time in that city. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy just thinking about it!haha!
Another is Little Creatures Brewery in Freo, it holds a special place in James's heart!

The last of oz....

2009-10-19T20:13:00.005+08:00

We had such a busy week and having Martin and Dave with us meant we hadn't much time to dwell on the fact that we're actually leaving Australia within a matter of days. That is a good thing too but all of a sudden when we got back to Perth it hit us it was our last weekend and also the last we'd see of Dave for quite some time. We spent Friday back in Fremantle wanting to show Martin around and hang out there one last time. We had a coffee in Gino's, bought chocolates in Kakulas Sister (our favourite shop) and had a beer at the markets. We strolled around to the Round House and through the park before finally ending up in Little Creatures brewery for the avo. We sat out the back in 30 degree heat looking out on the water. We were later joined by Rachael and Suz and had dinner there. James got a standing ovation, and got clapped out of the bar (mostly by Martin and Dave) but it caught on! He even got a high five from an enthusiastic punter in there. Ahhh, we'll miss Creatures!!

J and I said our goodbyes to Rachael. We'll miss her, she was a great housemate, I'll always have fond memories of that house.

We made another trip out to Rottnest Island or Rotto as it's locally known. This time the weather was scorchio and we well and truly huffed and puffed our way around until we reached Geordie Bay where we lay on the beach for the day, glad to be near the water. It reached 35 degrees and so the water was a welcome relief. There was a shark warning on the island that day. A few days prior to this a 4 metre Great White was spotted off Floreat Beach in Perth feeding on a whale carcass floating in the water. It was less than 100 metres from the shore. They had towed the carcus out to sea in a bid to draw the shark further out. I saw aerial pictures in the newspaper of the shark, seriously scary. Anyway looks like a similiar thing was going on off the west end of Rotto so we avoided there as warned. The chances of us ever being back on Rotto again in our lifetime is fairly slim so I'm glad we had the opportunity to get out there one more time before leaving.

The ferry brought us back to the city up the Swan River. It reminded me a little of Sydney Harbour. The river is so wide in parts and all the houses are built into the hillsides. We saw the most expensive house in Australia on the riverfront - $65 million. It was very impressive. It was a lovely boat ride and I was glad we got to do it before we left Perth. It certainly gave me another perspective on the city. With sun shining more and more and temperatures around 30 degrees the city is sure looking more inviting than it did when we first arrived.

For our last hurrah in Perth and Australia we headed out to Northbridge to the Rocket Room, great night, lots of laughs and dancing.

We spent Sunday a little worst for wear initially but headed out and had a quintessentially Aussie day. We started off with lawn bowls up in Mosman Park. The views of the river and the city are fantastic from there. We cooked up a barbie nearby and then rounded off the day with a trip to Cottesloe beach for a coffee at sundown. Cottesloe is kind of like the Bondi of Perth. Nice big beach, big surf and lots of people.

And that's that. We chilled out for the rest of the evening. Martin and Dave were flying east for more fun and James and I said our goodbyes to the boys as they left for a week out east.

Its been quite an adventure. Words cant describe really. A full year of great times, a lifetime of memories.

Margaret River

2009-10-19T19:52:00.006+08:00

We moved out of our place on Grey St the second weekend in October and straight into Dave's! We had a hire car for the week, and awaited Martin's imminent arrival that night. The four of us headed down south to the Margaret River wine region for four days. En route we pulled into the beautiful Bunker Bay outside Yallingup to get an idea of the type of beaches in this region.

Like much of W.A. they are spectacular, and for the most part empty! It was too cold to swim that first day but we just stood on the sand and marvelled at the sheer beauty of the place. Martin having flown straight out from Dublin was amazed. We stopped in Caves House after that for lunch. Dave had been down this way before and so was very clued into where the nice places were and what the nicest wines were. Some of the wines we tasted in Margaret River were nicest wines I've ever tasted. The region produces 3-5% of the country's exports but 30% of its' premium wines so the quality is astounding, even more amazing is the price. We were tasting wines that would probably be at least 90 euro at home and are about $40-$50 here. We had a bottle of Saracens Cab Sauvignon 2004 with lunch and all thought we'd died and gone to heaven!

After we peeled ourselves away from the table we headed towards Margaret River town. Winding our way through narrow country roads and beautiful countryside we were incapable of passing a few wineries without stopping. Swings and Roundabouts was our first stop, then onto Saracens estate to pick up some more of that Cab Sav we had at lunch. We stopped into Pierro where we were greeted by a Cork woman behind the counter! Brooklands got a call too and finally we were stocked up to get us through dinner at least!!

We checked into our hostel and cooked up a storm on the barbie! We spent that even slurping our way through our purchases and munching on kangaroo burgers. The fantastic thing about Margaret River is that it has not only all these wonderful vineyards on rolling hills, beautiful forests and fields of wild lillies but also has spectacular beaches. What a marriage of all that is good and wonderful in this world!

We made our way down to Settlers Tavern after dinner and the night culminated in James singing on Karaoke (the lads did't give him a choice!) as he belted out 'My Song' (also picked by the guys) a couple came up to slow dance, such is his way with music eh!?

We signed up to do a wine tour so that all of us could enjoy the wine tastings without worrying about driving. First up was Tassell Park Estate where a nice guy behind a horsehoe shaped bar greeted us with the first tastings of the day. The most memorable being mulled wine. Onwards from there to Brookwood Estate where the lads attempted to estimate with the (poor) guy behind the counter what's the yield per acre or in other words how many grapes are in a bottle of wine! It drew a few laughs from the crowd, and a calculator was even produced at one point as the accountant amongst us (Martin) tried to figure it out. We had lunch there which was delicious. Wild turkey, cured kangaroo meat, yummy relishes and pesto and fancy breads, delish!! Dave ate a widgety grub, which are essentially wild slugs that Aboriginal people use as bushtucker. In the wild they pull the heads off and eat them straight from the trees. Luckily for Dave it was already dead, but whole and dipped in Greek yogurt! I felt sick listening to him crunch his way through it. Oh well at least he knows he can survive in the bush now, once he has some Greek yogurt on hand of course!

We had a break from the wine and enjoyed some yogurt and cheese tasting at the M.R. cheese factory. The M.R. Chocolate factory followed, where chocolate tastings, hot chocolates and ice-cream were available. As you can imagine at this point we were stuffed and there was still three more places to go! Death by indulgence was clearly the agenda!

Knee Deep winery had a very sleepy, full crowd on their hands by the time we got there. 'The Grove' was a break from the wines, it had ports and liquers. We were warned by our tour guide Gary that Nick in 'The Grove' is very politically incorrect and not to be offended. We waited hoping he'd say something outrageously inappropriate, as Aussies are not PC at the best of times but bar a few jokes he seemed fine. Macadamia nut liquers mixed with white chocolate liquers and cream were made and consumed. We had to be rolled out of there to our final destination Duchsteins Brewery ( I realise how excessive and ridiculous this day sounds as I write this and it was) . we found ourselves some comfy chairs and chilled out there for 45 minutes before being driven back to town.

Straight off the bus and into the M.R. hotel bar only to be served by an Irishman. We had dinner later there also before catching an early night, all of us a few pounds heavier from the days consumptions.

The following day we hit the road to Pemberton down towards the karri forests. The Gloucester tree near Pemberton stands 61m tall and has metal spokes the whole way up it to a viewing platform. After a bit of machoism the three lads were all of a sudden ascending the tree while my heart was in my mouth. There are no safety nets and so I wasn't happy about them climbing it. But once one decided he was doing it they all did, typical. One lady down below commmented that there were some crazy Irish boys up the tree. I think they were all pretty happy when they got back down, it was pretty scary looking.

We drove to Cape Leeuwin Lighthouse stopping in Augusta for lunch. The lighthouse is the tallest in Australia and stands at the point where the Indian and Southern Oceans meet. We sat there for awhile watching the dolphins ride the waves. The weather had picked up considerably overnight and so we decided a swim would be nice. We made our way back up the coast to Hamelin Bay. The water was a bit cold but we had the beach all to ourselves. We drove to Gracetown and watched the sunset before making our way back to Dunsborough that night. Dunsborough is a nicer town than M.R. we strolled down the town to Malt for dinner and a few drinks. The bar was hopping when we walked in but by 9.30pm it had cleared out. The Cork woman from Pierro was there with her husband and came over to tell us that everyone goes to bed early here. I thought it was funny that out of ten people left in the place six of us were Irish! And so we had another early night.

Up early and straight to Smith's Beach where we hung out for the morning. Lunch was consumed in Leeuwin Estate. This place was a highlight for us. It was nestled in a valley amongst tall trees and had lovely wooden decking overlooking all of this where we sat for lunch. We stopped into 'Voyager' and 'Cape Mentelle' wineries before hitting the road back to Perth. En route we picked up some supplies and made back to the city just in time to have a BBQ in King's Park before the sun went down. King's Park is great because it looks down onto the city and river and so as the sun goes down the lights go up. We sat up there looking down on the city, a perfect end to our few days away.

Freo post Road Trip

2009-10-19T19:41:00.003+08:00

We got back into the swing of things in Freo pretty quickly. The weather was wet for a few weeks but picked up towards the end of the month. One of the weekends we took the boat across the Swan river from Perth CBD with Dave and checked out South Perth. A few nice coffee shops and a great view of downtown Perth were the highlights. We ventured by foot to East Perth for lunch the same day, fully satisfied then that we'd seen the best the city has to offer.

In my opinion the best thing about Perth is Fremantle. We couldn't have picked a better spot to lay low for a few weeks. Perth's winter is comparable to our summers (better actually) so we faired ok. Fremantle is pretty sleepy during the week, but so bustly and atmospheric on the weekends. It was great living so near the town. It was less than a ten minute stroll to the 'cappuccino strip' and markets. Arguably the two best things about the town. Little Creatures brewery on the waterfront ranks pretty highly. I don't know what Dave and James are gonna do without their favourite pale ale, it'll be back to the black stuff I guess!

We spent a couple of weekends just hanging out. We lived a stones throw from the beach which was too cold for swimming but beautiful for walks and running. They have big big sharks off the coast of WA, it seems . I remember when we were over east a few Aussies remarking on the fact that they've 'big ones over that way!' In fact when we were living in Sydney a man and his son were snorkeling early one morning when the man was attacked and killed by a Great White. I saw aerial footage of this shark and it was enough to keep me out of the water. That and the sighting of a 14 foot Great White during our time in Perth meant I kept my feet firmly on the sand.

The nigthlife in Fremantle was pretty good. The Norfolk was our local and one of my favourites. Little Creatures is a fantastic spot. It brings a whole new meaning to beer garden, with views of the harbour and yachts parked right up to the fence line of the pub it was a spectacular place to pass a few hours.

I worked in a pharmacy for two months. All the staff members were Australian and local, many never having left the state. They were all female so I had the joys of being back in an all female environment where everybody likes to bitch! Christ the scandal! All the same it was a great place to work and I really enjoyed my time there.

Fremantle has a massive Italian community, so I was back in familiar environs in some ways! I love the Italian sense of community and family. They are for the most part an endearing bunch! Our local market was operated by the Galati family and had been for 50 years. 2nd and 3rd generations working at the tills with Italian features and Australian accents. The town mayor is Italian and prone to scandal or two apparently. Many of the ornate houses with lions on the pillars belonged to members of the Italian community. Most of the women I worked with were 2nd generation Italian. I found it really interesting to live in a place with people whose families were immigrants a long time ago and yet the traditions and ways of their culture are still very prominent.

Rottnest Island

This little gem in the Indian Ocean had been beckoning for some time but we were holding out till the weather got warmer. The first weekend in October we caught the ferry across, hired bikes and spent the day cycling around and swimming and snorkeling. Fantastic place. No traffic is allowed on the island, so everyone cycles and it lends a lovely lazy feel to the place.

The real draw to the island are the fantastic white sandy beaches and beautiful clear blue water. It's possible to hop on your bike and find yourself a secluded bay and hang out there for the day. A guy from Perth once said to me you take your proximity to Europe for granted like we take our beautiful beaches for granted. I couldn't help think of this as we watched yachts come in and out of the bays, and young families come ashore. I couldn't help thinking these kids don't know how good they have it.

We finished off the day with a cold beer in the Quokka Arms. Quokka's are tiny marsupials that are indigenous to the island, little kangaroos, or large rats as the Dutch thought when they first landed, hence the name - Rat's Nest.

Spring in the Valley - Swan Valley

Our housemate Adin organised a bus to this festival in the wine region outside Perth. So along with Dave, Rachael (our other housemate) and her boyfriend James we jumped aboard. The day entailed twenty of us heading off early to a couple of vineyards where there was live music and hoards of people out to celebrate the start of spring and the good weather. It was like Oxegen but in wineries, a recipe for disaster. We enjoyed oursleves all the same and spent most of it laughing at the antics everyone else got up to. Adin and most of his mates were fairly worst for wear by the time we got back to Fremantle.

Coral Bay - Road trip North

2009-10-19T19:25:00.008+08:00

Growing restless with the weather in Fremantle we saddled up Holden for yet another road trip. The objective was to get as far north as quickly as possible, and get some sun on our bums while taking in some of the west coast's famed beaches.

We pulled into Geraldton, a quiet seaside town about 400km north of Perth and settled into a cosy hostel close to the beach front. The difference in temperature was already palpable, and we grew ever more excited about the prospect of sun and sand. We loaded up on provisions, and had a quiet night in having quickly established there was no night life worth checking out.

The next day we made our way along Highway 1 as far as Shark Bay (World Heritage Marine Park), and arrived at the tiny resort of Monkey Mia with a few hours of sunlight to spare. Famous for its daily dolphin feeding sessions, this is a beautifully secluded stretch of beach with an adjacent caravan park and bar/restaurant. We pitched the tent and jumped into the sea straight away. The water was pretty cool - but it felt great to lie on the sand after and dry off under the sun. We did a short walking trail of the area before watching the sunset over a few beers on the beach.

Early next morning we waded into the sea up to our knees and waited for the dolphins to arrive. They didn't disappoint - about 8 or 9 showed up, some coming within a few inches for a good look at us. They are beautiful animals, full of personality. A few opportunistic pelicans were also lurking about.We had breakfast at a spot called Little Lagoon about 10km from Monkey Mia, and pulled over into the stunning Shell Beach about an hour later. We also took in the views of Shark Bay from a lookout called Eagle Bluff. We had a great aerial view of the seabed which is different contrasting shades of blue. The dark patches owing to the large beds of seagrass which are continually shaping the sea floor in the bay. It's not called Shark Bay for nothing either with it being home to at least 28 species of shark, as well as many other marine creatures.

A little further down the road is the tiny settlement of Hamelin. We pulled in to take a look at the stromatolites - a modern colony of single cell organisms that have been in existence for at least 3.5 billion years. These great coral like black clumps are credited with releasing oxygen into the atmosphere to such an extent as to make the planet habitable. At one point they were all over the shop - now they can only be found in a handful of places. The hypersaline waters of Shark Bay make a perfect ecosystem for them since no grazing fishies can survive there. They are a surviving link to the planet as it was 4 billion years ago. So after a crash course in evolutionary microbiology we had a cup of coffee in the bizarre little shop at Hamelin, which alongside very tasty cheesecake sold fake Gucci bags.

The landscape here is like the Nullarbour over and over again, but with a lot more roadkill! Every few hundred metres we saw or dodged a poor old 'roo. The roadtrains just obliterate them.

Anxious to make the most of our time we made for Coral Bay, and set up camp there later that afternoon. We cooked up some dinner and ventured up to the Coral Bay Hotel for a few beers and a listen to a cracking blues band.

The next few days passed by in what feels like 30 seconds now that I'm trying to recall them. Countless times each day I paused in sheer wonder at the beauty of the place. It is the closest to paradise I think I have ever been. We got into a routine of rising early, making our way down to the beachfront and walking a kilometre or two along it to find a sheltered spot along the dunes and then reading, swimming, snorkeling and sunbathing for the whole day. The water was that shade of blue that makes you want to tear your clothes off a go galloping like a frenzied child into it.

Coral Bay is the best spot to access Ningaloo reef from. The current is onshore and sweeps you parallel to the beach front, so we would jump in with the snorkel gear, swim out about 50 metres to the reef and float along over it until making our way to the beach, walking back up to where we started in the first place, and repeating the process. It was like jumping into an aquarium. The whole area around the bay is a marine reserve, so great shoals of snapper and angel fish, turtles, giant clams, moon wrasse etc etc all vie for attention. I would glance up from my book and notice dark shadows over the white sand bed a couple of metres out, and go running in to see a turtle, or on occasion a manta ray flying about just under the surface.

When the tide is out full (which happened to be in the evenings when we were there) the sandy shelf gives way to an immediate drop of about 6 feet into the water. Its like a huge infinity pool. We would lie in the water and catch the last of the evening sun, with snapper nibbling on our toes. I swear I nearly cried leaving the place. The sunsets were spectacular too.

Unfortunately all good things must come to an end, and we pulled out of Coral Bay bound for Kalbarri one morning, narrowly missing an early rising kangaroo on the outskirts of town. Our intention was to cover the 600km or so as quickly as possible to allow time to see Kalbarri National Park that evening. Later en route Sarah had a close call with an emu on the road. We'd seen more wildlife on these roads than anywhere else in Australia, so much so it was jumping out at us. In spite of it we made good time, and were on the turn off towards the town whizzing by fields of wildflowers in the park by mid afternoon. We had pulled into the pay booth at an entrance to the park about 10km out of town when disaster struck. Mick Pyro was on the stereo screaming about breaking down, and Holden took heed and died unceremoniously. Luckily we were right opposite a small airport which had an emergency phone (no mobile signal out there at all) so I arranged for us to be towed into town.

After about half an hour waiting in the scorching heat a friendly mechanic turned up. He took a quick look and made the usual mechanic noises, dodging any definitive prognosis and attempting to size up my knowledge of combustion engines to see how much of a ride he could take me for. In town we waited outside the garage for another hour while he tinkered about, and eventually sidled up to us with the unmistakable manner of a man about to deliver bad news. It was going to cost the value of the car to get it fixed, and would take a few days at the least. We were a little stunned, after all we had traveled over 20,000 kilometres over 10 months in it, and had become somewhat attached! Sarah was on the verge of tears, and I was bent over the engine confirming that most of the valves were minus compression. No doubt about it, car was kaput. So we took a lift into the local backpackers to get our heads together and figure out what the feck we were going to do!

In the end we sold the car for scrap, managed to offload all of our camping gear to a local for a few quid, and booked ourselves on a bus out of town leaving a few days later. Having come that far we were determined to get into the park and have a look around the area. On reflection we realised how lucky we were to have broken down when and where we did - the highway stretches for hundreds of kilometres at a time with the occasional ramshackle road house breaking the monotony. The towing bill alone would have been astronomical, and of course all the extra hassle and time...

So we waked the car in a local bar, and to be honest felt almost relieved to be rid of it and the constant nagging worry of it exploding on some godforsaken far flung dusty highway on us! The hostel staff were very helpful, and Kalbarri is a gorgeous little town on the mouth of the Murchison River, so we settled in for a few days, renting bikes and cycling along the cliff tops to the south of town one day, and going on a tour into the park the next.

The tour was gas. The hostel messed up our booking and the bus went off without us. Luckily they arranged a neighbour to speed us out after the bus and we caught up before they got too far. We were the youngest on the bus by a good 30 years. Its wildflower season in WA - and all the rain this winter has the 'grey army' coming from all over Oz in their droves to bend their brittle backs sniffing Sticky Everlastings and ogling at Kangaroo Paws. First stop 'natures window' a spectacular lookout over the gorges carved out by the Murchison about 60 metres below. This landscape is one of the oldest on the planet, and its majesty truly humbles. Then on to the 'Z-Bend' another lookout over dark red gorges that have been eroded over the millennium to form a large Z in the landscape. Gasping along in unison with the pensioners we shared their obvious delight and relief at having a good old sit down over tea and cakes after the walk. I could get used to retired life, oh yes.

The next day was a long one on a greasy bus back to Perth. We fell into Dave's, surplus baggage wrapped up in great plastic sacks and looking fairly homeless. We had a big dinner there and slept like babies.

Freo Pt 3

2009-10-19T18:08:00.002+08:00

The following weekend we went to see Augie March in a small venue in Freo called Fly By Night. We had seen these fellas before on new years day at Woodford and it was nice to see them in a more intimate setting. They are a bit of a shambles but have a few great tunes. The morning after myself Dave and Sarah hit the markets, and Dave did a little film of me busking there. I made a few bucks and we hit Kakula Sister, a great little shop full of sweets and spices and bought provisions for dinner.

The Shipwreck Gallery is worth a mention, and really is a must see in Freo. It documents the Dutch naval expeditions towards the Spice Islands, Indonesia and their involvement with the west coast of Oz among other things. I was wandering around the displays when I came across a case of artifacts from a British registered ship, the James Matthews. It turns out that I was staring at belt buckles, a pair of leather shoes and a few pieces of pottery that had originated with its charterers, a pair of brothers named De Burgh, who lived right beside my grandparents house in Naas. Funny to think of this stuff in the light of day a few yards from Oldtown Villa 250 years ago.

We had planned to run the city to surf, a 12km track from the city centre out to City Beach the following Sunday, and headed into Dave and Suz on the Saturday night beforehand. Myself and Dave caught the Tri nations game against South Africa that evening, watching the Boks comfortably beat the Wallabies in Subiaco Oval. It was great to see Habana, Matfield et al in action, they are a class act. We had a cracking day for the run and all managed to do it good times. We were treated to free refreshments in the Accenture tent after the run and met a few of Dave and suz's work colleagues in the process.

We drove to the Queen Victoria later that evening for dinner before heading home to get ourselves organised for the trip north. Ah the open road again!!

Fremantle Part II

2009-10-11T21:00:00.004+08:00

Northbridge & Dave's Birthday

Colin flew in from Sydney the following weekend and we had a big celebration for Dave's birthday. We arranged a taxi to bring us all out to Swan Valley, the local wine region. After a round of 'supa golf' (oversized balls and clubs. Dave loved it the big child. In fairness is was very funny) we ran into Mash Brewery avoiding the rain for lunch. Then to a nearby winery called Edgecombe Brothers where we ended up for the whole afternoon eating cheese and educating our palates. That night we hit Northbridge (read Templebar/Kings Cross) and caught a great pub band in Mustangs after dinner with Suz in Subiaco.

Colin got his whirlwind tour of the city on the Sunday morning visiting Kings Park and Cottesloe. I ended up having a huge Sunday session in Creatures with the boys. It was a great afternoon. We solved all of the worlds problems, hatched plans for a micro brewery empire back home and since it was be the last time we would all be together for a long time generally made the most of it.

Busking Baking and Eating Second Hand Novels

There is a huge Italian population in Fremantle. I gained a great insight into their far flung community by hanging around Wray St a fair bit. This little centre of commerce would not be out of place in any sleepy Tuscan village. I discovered Gelati & Sons grocers one sunny morning wandering aimlessly about the blocks around the house. As I walked up past a row of ramshackle houses, all wooden facades and garish paint jobs and built on top of each other, I came across two weather beaten old men in animated conversation. It took me a few seconds to realise that they were speaking Italian because their spech was pepered with Englih words spat out in forced Australian accents. One was a farmer who was in the process of dropping off a van load of vegetables to the grocers. I went through to the shop inside past the rows of fruit in stalls along the outer walls and immediatly felt hungry. The smell of cheese and chorizo sausages, stacks of imported tinned tomatoes (whats wrong with Australian tomatoes?) and almost everyone conversing in Italian. It was refreshingly bizarre. I bought some coffee and a few things for a salad, and wandered homeward warmed by the little slice of old fashioned community bound society I had stepped into for a few minutes.

Back at the house, and comfortably ensconsed under the olive tree in the garden I drank some coffee and cracked into my book. This pattern was to repeat itself quite a bit over the coming weeks. I made my way through a long list of books I had been meaning to read, ran regularly down along the pathways past South Beach, baked batches of various 'experimental' bread that was on occasion actually edible, and generally engaged in a lifestyle close to perfection. I kept myself in coffee beans and second and books by busking as much as possible in the markets.

I get slagged for only being able to play 3 songs when Im a little worse for wear at parties - well no more. I sat down and learned about 45 tunes over the next few weeks, and made a few initially tentative forays into the markets on the weekends to belt them out. After a few days the confidence grew, I met a few people who encouraged me more and more, and before I knew it I was peaking earnings at the rate of a dollar a minute!

There are three spots in the markets for buskers, and I would get there early on a Friday morning and sign up for as many hour long slots that were still available for the weekend. At a natural 'crossroads' in the flow of human traffic, and right in the midst of the strawberries and melon stands, I set up camp and blasted through as many classic Beatles, Kinks, Waterboys, Van the Man, Pearl Jam etc etc etc songs as I could muster in an hour. It was great craic. The vocal gymnastics I eventually managed to pull would never have been possible without the hours and hours of singing. There is something infinitley satisfying about mucking around with a guitar for a few hours, doing a little jig on the spot while roaring out your favourite tunes in public, and making handsome money in the process.

Fremantle

2009-10-08T21:06:00.006+08:00

Our first few days in Perth slid into each other in a nebulous haze of incredulity. It was great to see Dave again and hang out with Suz in their beautiful apartment on Milligan St, but it quickly became apparent that we were a long way from Kansas (Kansas being Sydney).

We took in the sights in about two days: the view of the city from Kings Park, tea in Indiana on Cottesloe Beach, drinks in Northbridge, lunch in the Left Bank in North Fremantle. We spent the next few days dodging raindrops and trying to find a place to live and jobs. Leederville looked like an option, but when we viewed an apartment there our hearts sank even further - overpriced and dingy. Not quite the 360 degree views of Manly. We persisted for a few more days and then decided to check out Fremantle on a whim.

The minute I got out there my spirits lifted. I have no idea why because it was approaching darkness and we hadn't seen the town centre, but I just had a feeling about the place. We stayed in a tumbledown haunted old kip in the docks called Australia Backpackers. Just down the street is a lovely little pub called Clancy's. Full of all kinds of weird and wonderful bottles and kegs of beer and live music, and with a roaring fireplace on a cold night, we got cosy and started to thaw out a bit. We walked around the town centre the next morning and came across Sundancer Hostel - which unbeknownst to us at the time turned out to be the nicest hostel in the town. We moved straight in and in the space of a few hours had been sold on Freo as a place to live for a few weeks. We climbed up to the Round House, had coffee in Gino's on the 'cappucino strip' and managed to squeeze in a pint on Little Creatures that afternoon.

So between job hunting and sight seeing a couple of days in the hostel sneaked by. Being low season we had a whole dorm to ourselves and shared the common areas with the 15 or so other guests. Everyone seemed to be in the same mode of keeping their heads down for the winter months and looking for work. We got friendly with a few of them, one particularly funny Frenchman who made onion soup and his own mayonnaise and offered a taste to all around.

Dave came out on Friday night and we hit the town hard, having a few drinks in the hostel, then Clancy's and ending up in the aptly named Clink (read Coppers) until the wee hours dancing like 4 year olds at a playschool disco. We woke up early Saturday, strolled around the town again for a bit, having coffee on the cappuccino strip. Thence to Creatures again via a stroll through the markets where we toasted Sarah after she got a phonecall offering her a job in a local pharmacy. We had a ridiculous dinner in a Mexican restaurant and slurped PINTS of pina colada through straws (oh god as I write this it sounds so bad haha) and ended up in the Irish pub that night. Uggh. I lost my glasses on the dancefloor. Say no more.

On Sunday morning I rang around a few places to see if we could get some accommodation and made an appointment to view a house later that afternoon. We immediately liked the place, bright and airy and only a few minutes walk from town centre. So in the space of two days we had one job and a place to stay sorted. Not bad going.

We weren't due to move in for a week so we spent another 7 days in the hostel. I got a days work out of a removals company and helped a very well to do English family move from a fabulous big house into a not so fabulous smaller house. Tough times. Out of a population of about 1.5 million, 400,000 of Perth's inhabitants were born in the UK. EVERYBODY I met that day was born in England. The couple who moved, the owner of the removals company, the two lads who worked with him, the cleaners coming in after us, the bloody dog minder, the TV rental people. Unbelievable.

Sarah started work in the pharmacy and seemed to immediately fall into step. I did an RSA (responsible service of alcohol) cert which is basically a money spinner for lots of private education companies and a rip off for prospective employees in the booze trade. I reckoned I'd give a go at working in a bar in Freo and set about calling into them all and proclaiming my love and healthy appreciation for all things beer. This I did with much gusto, making a point to prove said devotion in each premises. It was the most fun I've ever had applying for jobs.

Unfortunately what with it being the depths of winter and all nobody was hiring. I did get a trial run in the Irish bar which was good fun but they gave the job to some Ozzy girl with large breasts instead. Ahh the world we live in eh? So I took to the streets with my guitar and embraced the busking culture here in the hope that it would embrace me back. More of which anon.

We moved into the house on Grey St and met our housemates. Adin is a local boy, a self styled entrepreneur and all round man of mystery. A funny man indeed. Rachel is a sweet and smiling Berkeley graduate who has a great CD collection and in fact has turned me back on to buying the little plastic discs again in lieu of my unhealthy addiction to MP3. Oh what a privileged existence us audiophiles have. We all got on great from the get go and settled in nicely.

That Sunday myself S and Dave visited the famous Fremantle Gaol and took a guided tour of it. This place is the best preserved example of a convict prison in this nation of prisons owing to the fact that it was built when Victoria's fat arse was on the throne and remained in full operation up until 1991. Unsurprisingly it is a place of rich history and anecdote and it is indeed shocking. The lucky prisoners only had to deal with a lack of plumbing (having to do their business into buckets in cells) as the rest of the world had to endure the cultural assault course that was the 1980's. They got off lightly I say. Some shower of liberal pinko's eventually petitioned to have the place shut down and now all of WA's worst offenders have cosy cushioned cells and common areas in which to play their Wii's and occasionally knock the feck out of each other over cigarettes.

There was one great story about the jail that is worth retelling, and we were surprised somebody hadn't bought the film rights when we heard it. The only successful escape from it in its 160 odd year history was orchestrated by an Irish poet/publisher/ladies man /IRB sympathiser/ all round hero named Richard Boyle O'Reilly. He was shipped off and locked up in Bunbury for his Fenian activities back in the homeland but escaped to Boston where he made a fortune publishing the Boston Pilot.

He had promised some of his buddies in Freo he wouldn't forget them though, and a few years later mounted an elaborate plot to get them out and away on the high seas. While the majority of guards and the governor were out sunning themselves at a regatta in Perth one afternoon, he arranged for the lads to be smuggled aboard an American registered boat called the Catalpa. The authorities had wind of the escape at this point and raced out in a whaler to intercept the Catalpa, firing warning shots at it. The lads pulled a stars and stripes out and promptly told the British that one more shot in their direction would be tantamount to declaring war on the US. They backed off and a few weeks later the Fenians celebrated their reunion in Boston over tea and crumpets and buckets of red bull and vodka. Yipeeeeee!!

Part 3 - Mine Country

2009-08-31T22:55:00.005+08:00

Our night in Cocklebiddy passed without incident and we set off for Coolgardie, 613km down the road. We had lunch in Norseman en route. This is an old gold town which would have been booming back in late 19th century. Now it's a sorry looking, run down town with not a whole lot to offer but over-priced fuel. We drove the longest, straightest road in Australia that day, all 146.6km's of it! The landscape at this point was hilly, and the roadside lined with trees. We passed a couple of dried up lakes, where we read that the local youths like to drive out on them and write off cars at the weekend. The population of W.A. is 2 million and 1.4million live in Perth so en route to the capital city there really isn't a whole lot going on, or many people about.

Coolgardie too is an old boom town, the remnants and facades of the old buildings that would have been built during that period are still present. Nowadays it's just another stop on the road to Perth.

Day 7, our last day we set off for Perth with a mere 588km to cover! We rolled into Perth CBD that afternoon about 4pm. We parked up and got out to stretch the legs and check out the city centre. Having just drove through it in a few minutes we got a sense for just how small the city is. As Dave says Perth has a very deceiving skyline, from a distance it looks big and impressive, but down on the street level the CBD consists only of four streets by three. Within our first hour of being in Perth we managed to acquire a $100 parking ticket. The weather was dull, it had none of the wow factor of Sydney and we were beginning to wonder what we had done!

In retrospect I think our initial feelings were a little harsh. We were perhaps slightly delusional when we first arrived. We were very tired, and it is very strange to step out of your car a couple days later and feel like you're in a different country. We covered 4185km in total in seven days. We didn't quite know what to think or to do with ourselves those first few days, so luckily it was a case of Dave to the rescue.

We sat in the car cursing Transperth and waiting for Dave, it wasn't long before we spotted his distinctive gait making his way towards us. We drove 100 metres down the road to his place and parked up Holden for a few days, and a much deserved rest.

Dave cooked us dinner, it was great to catch up. We marveled at all the places the three of us have met and parted over the past year. Starting with Red Square in Moscow, goodbyes in Bangkok, Thailand, hellos and goodbyes again on the beach in Koh Tao, only to meet again in Sihanoukville, Cambodia, a tearful farewell in Phnom Penh, Cambodia and some months later a reunion in Sydney, and here we were again sitting having dinner in his city centre apartment in Perth CBD, it really was all a bit surreal.

So we did what we do best when we get together and we made our way out on the town, it was Friday night after all! James managed to get a razor through his week long cultivation of facial hair, the prospect of a few pints had been something we had been looking forward to in the last few hours before we arrived. Shock horror, the price of a pint is a helluva lot more expensive here than in Sydney, in fact Perth is a lot more expensive than Sydney full stop! That we hadn't been prepared for. After a 15 dollar pint in the Belgian beer cafe we crossed over the footbridge into the infamous Northbridge and spent the remainder of our evening in Rosie O'Grady's. Yes our first night in Perth, after taking seven days to get here and we spent it in perhaps what is one of the most Irish pubs outside Ireland that I've ever been in. It was unbelievable! Everyone in there was Irish first of all. It was like a pub in the midlands, bad decor and full of people in GAA jerseys. It was bizzare and certainly not what I was expecting from our first night in Perth. But we were wrecked and glad of a seat, familiar surroundings and good company.

Part 2 - Adelaide and the Nullarbor

2009-08-31T22:47:00.005+08:00

Adelaide

We arrived in Adelaide that afternoon and checked into 'My Place' hostel for the night. A comfy spot in the city centre. The Grace Emily hotel across the road is a wonderful old pub, no TV or pokies, an open fire and some quirky merchandise in behind the bar all add to it's charm. Another marvelous pub in Adelaide is the Exeter in the CBD, a grungy spot with an old headline framed above the bar proclaiming that 'Tourist dies of thirst'. No chance! These two pubs, their warmth and the cold wet weather outside made us feel slightly at home in Adelaide! I'm sure arriving there mid summer is a different story.

The following day we set off on foot to explore and have a wander around the city. We checked out the Parliament house, had a stroll along the banks of the Torrens river, past the railway station turned casino and into the Immigration museum where we learned just how much Greek culture influenced and shaped Australia's popular culture. American influences came this way via Greek family members who were operating milk bars in the States. They adoptedthe technology being used there, implemented soda fountains, and dukeboxes and combined with Greek culture of good coffee and socialising at cafes. Their influence on cinema and music was huge too. Lots of the greatest hits of the time were first heard in such places in Australia. Later we stopped by Haigh's chocolate shop and stocked up for the next leg of the journey.

Adelaide is the main city in the state of South Australia. Two thirds of the state's 1.5 million inhabitants reside in the city's environs, so once you roll out of town its pretty sparse.

We moved on from Adelaide all three of us glad of the rest. Funny how Holden can drive thousands of km's and not let a peep out and then as soon as we hit city traffic he gets very flustered indeed. Since hitting the road we frequently pat the dashboard and whisper soft words of encouragement to our temperamental companion (well I did) never for a minute forgetting there are three of us on this trip!

We only drove 300km that afternoon following the road up the York Peninsula and rolling into Port Augusta shortly after dark. It was a prolonged dusk en route as we were headed west and we got some pretty views of Port Augusta and Eyre Peninsula on the other side of the water as we approached in the dark. We checked into Flinders St Motel which was a bar with a few rooms overhead. The bar itself felt like something from midlands Ireland. Pretty dated accommodation but it served its purpose.

Day four saw us getting closer and closer to the Nullarbor Plain. On these lonely roads everyone seems to wave at each other as they pass by, much to James's enjoyment. We stopped in a place called Iron Knob to fill up on petrol. A greasy attendant came out and filled the car whilst a sleepy dog lay in the sun. There was a toilet block with 'Blokes' and 'Sheila's' written on it, and nothing but scrub land in view as far as the horizon. Unbelievable. Iron Knob was apparently the home of the steel industry in Australia, hard to believe how anyone could live in that dusty, lonely place.

We passed a "Big Galah" (big parrot for those of you who don't watch 'Home and Away' )in Kimba and a sign saying 'Half Way Across Australia' We were in granite country now, not very scenic. Monsoon type rained poured down periodically, and tumbleweed actually blew across the road at one point! We spent most of that day traversing the top part of the Eyre Peninsula, it was a bit like 'Groundhog day' as each town we passed had large grain storage towers just outside the town on the main road, each with a sign saying 'town centre' and pointing to very little. We stopped in one such town called Wimepa for a coffee.

We stopped in Ceduna that night and stayed in the Ceduna Motor Inn. This is the last town before crossing the Nullarbor Plain and the Great Australian Bight. It's situated right on the water too. It was there that we were informed that we were going to pass a whale breeding grounds a couple of 100km's down the road. An unexpected surprise!

Feeling very excited about seeing some whales we hit the road early the next day passing places called Denial Bay and Anxious Bay on the way. This breeding ground is one of the three largest in Australia. It is the first land mass north of Antarctica and Southern Right whales come to breed between June and October. We had the absolute joy of watching the mammies with their calves in the water from viewing platforms on the cliff tops. The wonderful thing about this spot is that you can view the whales in their natural habitat without interfering or disturbing them. They come very close to the cliffs and so we were able to get a good look at just how enormous they are.

On another note I was told that scenes from 'Jaws' were actually shot here. One of the locals in Ceduna told me as I was staring horrified at picture postcards of the kind of sharks found lurking in the waters of South Australia. If you fancy a swim with Great Whites, no better spot!

At this point I must add that after only a mere five days on the road we had adapted to the truckie lifestyle and diet! It was hard not to when all the roadhouses had to offer were greasy fries and pies. We learned the hard way that traveling with fruit across the states is a no no, when our bag of apples was confiscated at the Victoria/ South Australia border. Excessive coffee intake further compounded our appalling diet for those few days. I don't know how the truckie's drive such distances on a regular basis never mind having to live off the crap that the roadhouses turf out. It truly is a very unhealthy lifestyle, it's no wonder they are mostly over-weight.

The landscape proceeded to change as we got further into South Australia and closer to the W.A. border. The initial rolling hills were giving way to grassy plains, their vastness being uniquely Australian. The Nullarbor Plain is typically grassy this time of year. We spotted the ocean every now and then from the car, but for the most part because the land is so flat all you can see as far as the horizon is grass, so unless you know the ocean is there you'd be none the wiser.

We crossed the border into W.A. and stopped at a place called Cocklebiddy for the night having hit the 3000km mark that day. On arrival I asked to see the room, not sure why as there was no other choice for 100's of km's but force of habit I suppose. The woman looked at me like I was some kind of princess! All I wanted was to make sure there was no visible rodents or large cockroaches on the wall, that done we handed over a 100 bucks and checked out what Cocklebiddy had to offer! A small folder in our room summed it up pretty quickly. "Yes this was all there is to Cocklebiddy, no there is no town centre, yes there are only 8 people living here, all of which run and work in the motel, restaurant, shop and petrol station, this population increases to 12 in Summer months, yes we sell milk and bread and a few basics, no we don't get the daily newspapers!!!!!!!" At best they get whatever the truckies leave behind passing through.

James did omit the apology in advance about "the mice and black bugs" when he read this out and filled me in on that detail a few days later when we were far, far away. The time difference here was 45 minutes behind Sydney, so we hit the road after elevenses at quarter to twelve. Narf.

Roadtrip Sydney to Perth - Part 1 July 09

2009-08-31T22:45:00.008+08:00

The night before we set off we arranged to have a few drinks in the Dee Why RSL with a few friends that were around. There was much slagging and jokes about our planned voyage. Our temperamental car was the butt of many jokes but we remained undeterred (or just stubborn!?)

We arose early on Saturday at about 6am, planning to cover good ground the first day and get as far as Hay (745km away). Not being a morning person James took the first shift, and amidst all the excitement I was asleep before we even left Sydney! I awoke just as we were pulling in to get petrol a couple of hours later. After some coffee and whatever grease the petrol station had to offer I drove the remainder until we got to Hay.

On the way there we passed through places called Wagga Wagga and Gumly Gumly which gave me a bit of giggle. I'm quite the content passenger now, perhaps all these months of traveling has enabled me to sit and stare out the window and soak up everything passing by. Lets be honest we all could have packed up after our five weeks on the Trans-Mongolian and gone home and thought/ reflected/ got our heads around that trip for five months! Same could be said for the three weeks in China or the two and a half weeks in Cambodia. The aul cliche that these trips are life changing really rings through. I find now that when we do a long car/ bus/ train journey it gives me the chance to digest all we've seen and done. I finally get some 'down time' to reflect and form an opinion. So now I rarely find any boredom in long journeys on a bus/ train/ car. I enjoy the chance to sit back relax and sift through the memories. So much of travelling can be delays and waiting. But it's part of it now, a much needed part in ways to allow a break from the constant stimulation, a chance to soak it all in.

Hay was a quiet town, we checked into the Bidgee Motor Inn for the evening. Small towns like Hay that seem stuck in a time warp were not uncommon as we had come to realise from all our traveling around Australia. They still have video stores (no dvd's just vhs) big wide streets, and a few small independent grocers and butchers. A nice slow vibe to the place.

The following day another early start got us on the road by 7.30am and we drove 747km that day. We were just shy of the NSW - Victorian border at this point and passed through a place called Sunraysia (such a made-up name!). Orange groves and vineyards lined the roads for a couple of km's before the terrain turned flat. We spotted emu's off the road, which was pretty exciting for about fifteen seconds then the landscape turned to plains filled with livestock. We crossed the border into Victoria and drove through the Barossa Valley en route to Adelaide. Needless to say we were unable to simply drive past such fine wineries without a detour and so popped into the famous Wolf Blass winery and then later on into Penfolds. The region here is dotted with towns originally settled by the Germans. We actually drove over Jacobs Creek! It was very cool to see where these wines we so often pick up in the supermarket at home come from! South Australia is the home of 'big gutsy reds' and good shiraz and so we made sure we didn't miss out!

Bye bye Sydney - July 09

2009-08-29T20:26:00.003+08:00

The last of Sydney.............

After our trip north to Cairns we stayed with Colin (again) for two weeks while I worked out my notice and we tried to sell our car. We spent a weekend in Kings Cross with Helen and James before they flew out to S. Africa. Kings Cross is great, Templebar of Sydney one might say, lots of pubs and clubs in very close proximity. We spent the Firday night going from place to place. Accidentally bumped into Susie and Lisa on the street,which was quiet funny. James and I spent Sat afternoon feeling a little sorry for ourselves wandering around the CBD. We caught up with Helen and James for the last of our farewell drinks.

J and I woke and checked out Sunday and decided to catch the ferry to Watsons Bay. It was a beautiful day. We arrived and had fish and chips take-away from Doyles like the other 90% of people on our ferry . We sat on the beach looking back across the harbour at the Sydney skyline thinking and talking about our five months in Sydney and the craic we'd had.

A massive thanks has to be said at this point to Colin and Sandra, they very generously let us intrude on their living space on more than one occasion.

We planned to drive to Perth the following Saturday, and like all good plans, ours was hatched over a few drinks in Kings Cross the night before. We were eager to get out of Colin and Sandra's hair, and coupled with the advantage of having a car in Perth we just decided to drive. In the harsh sunlight of a Sunday afternoon we sat on the beach discussing how realistic was it with our car! There was a lot to sort out that week but the over-riding feeling was excitement. We were gonna do it, we were gonna drive to Perth!

Cairns - June 09

2009-08-20T14:58:00.011+08:00

Townsville

June 09

Our lease expired on the paradise apartment in Manly, so we decided to leave utopia before any cracks started to appear. Time to move on, see something new, get the sunshine back for a few days (clouds were gathering!). With the arrival of James and Helen on the cards, we decided to book flights north and fulfil another of our Oz ambitions - to dive the Great Barrier Reef.

So having spent our final days in Manly packing an frequenting a few of our favourite haunts we weventually moved out and hopped on a plane to Cairns the very same day. It was like a holiday within a holiday - moving from (bear in mind we have aclimatised now) near freezing daytime temperatures of 16 degrees to the tropical breeze of far north Queensland, where the men are men and the women have sweat patches.

We settled into a hostel in the town centre, and promptly wandered into the Woolshed, a haven for stingey/broke backpackers hungry for a feed and thirsty for pints. When in Rome. A hazey evening...finishing somewhere in the nether regions of a Casino until 4am (girls were ditched at this point) where the two James's found themselves an empty bar, comfortable seats for the Cork v Kerry clash live on the perched box, and a gaggle of bemused Indian cleaners who were desperately interested in the goings on of this savage game.

The following day we nursed our silly heads with a wander about town. Cairns has the feel of a far flung tropical outpost. There are a few nice old buildings right in the town centre, but the rest is a bland mix of tourist traps, touts crawling over each other to sell you trips to the reef, and grungey backpackers.

Wasting no time, we hit the road north having rented ourselves some wheels for the week. The highway towards Port Douglas is hewed in by great fields of cane and railway tracks run parallel to the road over which run carriages full of soon to be sugar/rum.

Port Douglas is a beautiful little town. After a swim on Four Mile Beach (completely in denial of the stinger signs) we found a great hostel in the town centre and took it easy given our previous evening's excursions. Up bright and early and onward north through the lushness of the rainforest we found ourselves at Mosman Gorge, in the heart of the Daintree.

There is a short walking trail there, and a magnificent swimming hole. Fresh water creeks - nothing like them for a cool down. I managed to get swept away by the current and ended up a flopping mess on the wrong side of a series of boulders - next stop lots of sharp rocks/crocs. After a quick assessment of the situation, I was keeping my cool and trying to figure my way out, when I saw the expression on the other three faces (Sarah going apeshit of course) and realised I may have been in a little bit of trouble. Luckily I'm incredibly athletic (haha) and hauled myself up onto a rock and jumped back into safety. Oh the excitement.

Next stop (last stop north on this side of the coast unless you have a 4x4) Cape Tribulation. We stayed at the Beach House, a secluded camp in which you really do feel like you are in the wilderness. A huge spider (well..size of my hand lets say) hanging on a tree outside reception reminded us that we should probably keep our guard up and not go frolicking about in the bush too much by ourselves. He was introduced to us as one of the many residents, and venomous Golden Orb Weaver spiders, whose greatest achievement as a species it must be said occurred in November of last year way up in outer space.

Yes, NASA in their infinite capacity to amuse and baffle took one up in Endeavor, and promptly lost it. Imagine being one of those astronauts..I've trained all my life for this, I've done cryptic crosswords at 10 G's and yawned with the boredom, I'm elite, I've got large biceps, I look great in white,..I may be put put of action in this poxy shuttle if that bloody spider bites me. I digress..

So we set ourselves up in our cobwebbed hut amidst giant palm leaves, and promptly found the bar. It began to rain, so we had a few drinks and played scrabble for a while (rock n roll) and then poker for the rest of the evening. The following morning was overcast and blustery and we wandered out along the beach southwards for a few hours taking in the scenery - which was aptly described by our resident Kerryman as "like Jurassic Park". Another swimming hole called Emmagen Creek, a few kilometres north of the beach house had come to our attention, so we drove up there along the dirt track.

We came across some water, and again ignoring those pesky warning signs (this time for hungry salt water crocs) I had a paddle in the creek to try and figure out whether we needed to cross it in the car or not to find a spot to swim. We found one eventually, another beautifully secluded meander in the creek but only James braved the water again.

Moving southward once again, we rolled into Cairns that afternoon, having stopped for a croc burger in sleepy little Daintree Village, and sorted out a dive on the reef for the next day.

Diving the Reef..

was spectacular. It took about 1 1/2 hours to get out to our first dive site, Michaelmas Reef. I lazed about on the top deck of the boat, watching Cairns disappear behind our surf, and watched as more ominous clouds gathered above. Before I knew it we were mooring, and I stood up to have a look around. When I close my eyes and think 'Barrier Reef', I fantasise about azure blues, endless colourful choral - all viewed from above of course and shot at a great height. The reality at sea level before you get into the water, is a different story, and I was less than overwhelmed initially. This all changed the second we jumped into the water with our dive guide. Its paradise down there. It wasn't a million miles from the experience in Koh Tao, however the water was cooler and there were a few more varieties of marine life to chase about. So we spent about 40 minutes exploring the reef shelves, peering into the mouths of the giant clams and generally behaving like giddy kids.

We jumped in for more, this time with snorkels, after our air was out. We agreed afterwards that you really don't have to scuba to experience everything here - the reef crests the surface of the water, and depth never gets beyond 10 metres so you can see everything floating on top. Its more relaxing to snorkel too with less effort required to propel yourself about. The currents were pretty strong, but the boat was moored into it, so you had to fight to get away from the dive deck.

James and Helen did an introductory dive. Fairly brave of James given he wasn't comfortable swimming, never mind diving! I don't know how more people are not drowned out there - 50 or so people in the water (one person watching them), some complete novices, strong currents, 40km off shore. It was a far cry from the safely safely step by step approach we encountered with Bans on Koh Tao. They got on fine though, at one point James was the furthest body from the boat, completely absorbed in the reef!

The next dive site we stopped at was Hastings Reef, a little to the north of Michaelmas. Sarah and I decided against diving again and jumped in to snorkel for an hour or so. We were just up and out of the water, and watching Helen who was about 30 metres off to the left of the boat, when we noticed a turtle come up for air just beside her..we jumped straight back in! It was the highlight of the day and we spent about 20 minutes watching it eat coral and come up for air every few minutes.

We celebrated our day on the reef later in town over dinner and a few drinks, and hit the road south for Townsville the next morning. Not the most inspiring of towns, we went for a wander down the esplanade in search of the salt water pool,which was closed for the afternoon. That night we hit a few bars beside the hostel (mostly Irish bars, go figure) and ended up in The Heritage Bar, a lovely old Victorian building, the former post office. We spent the following day at the re- opened sea baths, and had a picnic up on the hill overlooking them before heading further south to Ayr.

Ayr

Sarah's first cousin Richard Fallon and his wife Fabe were good enough to put us up for the night, and we arrived into their house in time for a much appreciated home cooked dinner.Their two kids, Henry (4) and Meg (1 1/2) provided endless entertainment. Like wind up toys, their lives seem to revolve in cycles of huge excitement, much running around and shouting, slight irritation, hunger, real irritation, silence while eating/drinking, and then sleep. Repeat. Not too far off the perfect lifestyle.

Both Richard and Fabe have worked (Rich still does as a draftsman) for the main provider of employment in the area at the CSR sugar mills. Its amazing how the town has survived and prospered almost solely on the one industry since it was initially settled around 200 years ago. We arrived in Ayr at burning time, when the scrub around the cane is burned in huge controlled fires all around the town before harvest. Because everything is so spaced out (apart from the town centre) there is no escaping the seemingly endless fields of 8-10 foot high cane and the thick sweet smell of burning is ever present. 6 months of the year are devoted to harvesting, and 6 to processing so everything progresses on a well rehearsed cycle. There is a sense of calm settlement, an assurance I suppose borne of the surety of generation upon generation of the unbreakable cycle of life as it has always been known, and I found it refreshing. Rich and Fabe spoke of their contentment with their lifestyle, having escaped the rat race of Sydney where spending a good 6 hours a day with their kids while paying Sydney house prices would just not have been possible.

The next morning Helen and James said their goodbyes and hopped on a bus southward. We waved them off then took a drive to the closest beach, a vast stretch of sand reaching to the horizon and walked along it with the Fallons for an hour or so. Then it was back to the house for some lunch, and we gratefully caught up on some emails and chilled out for the afternoon. I was pretty keen to see the Lions game that night, and while we had initially planned to head back into Townsville to watch it, Rich invited us to hang around. It was such a pleasure to have all the sport (3 international tests in a row...heaven), a cozy couch to watch it on and a fridge full of beer!!

Our good friend Eoin Denvir happened to be in the environs, and our hosts we gracious enough to welcome another 'cousin' under the roof for the night (easiest way to identify yourself to the kids - cousins pooping out of the woodwork!). So we agonised over the first test loss that evening, and I had to have a few beers to calm myself down! Amazing and a bit emotional to see me old Naas u12's backrow partner lining out against the Boks. We started our fascination with the Lions together when we were 13, watching that last trip they took to sunny S.A. in Dunmore..

Thanking the Fallons profusely, for they were generous indeed, and great company, we (three of us now mind) hit the highway for Cairns again. We stayed in Gilligans hostel, a big rambling place right in the town centre and ended up spending the last few days there between the pools at the Esplanade and hanging around the bars at night. We caught up with Suz, Lisa, Shani and Lynda for a few days, and it was a nice relaxing finish to a great trip. Great to spend time with Eoin too, who managed to get himself sorted with a job in Sydney over the few days we were in town.

Its really satisfying to have driven the length of the east coast, all the way from Cape Tribulation down as far as Wilsons Prominotory. Its the only way to see the country!

James's Birthday

2009-08-20T14:41:00.005+08:00

James's 26th birthday was brilliant. Dave came over from Perth for the long weekend. We started celebrations that Friday evening in Manly, where Colin also joined us and we had dinner and then went to the Shore Club for some after hours dinks and a spot of dancing because lets face it we are amazing dancers............?? The girls decked out the apartment in balloons, and in the club later managed to get the whole room singing Happy Birthday to J.

The next day started with a dip in Little Manly Cove, well I dipped and he lads dunked from a height, jumping from the edge of the "protective" shark wall. There truly is some incessant need for boys to jump off stuff into water? Anyway that got rid of the hangovers. Well that and the large fry/ champagne breakfast we cooked up .

We caught the ferry into the city that afternoon and went to Sydneys most infamous Irish bar The Mercantile. Then to the top of the Shangri La hotel for drinks in the Horizon bar where we watched the sun set over the city (THE best view of Sydney full stop). Next was a bite to eat in the Australian hotel. Pies of course. We headed off to then to watch the Barbarians get hammered by the Wallabies in Sydney Football Stadium.

Post match drinks were had in Newtown. Ashamedly I admit it was in another Irish bar, only place that was showing the Lions game that night. We drove up to North Head the next day to show Dave the view of the harbour and the city.

Sarah's Sydney

2009-08-20T14:30:00.006+08:00

I felt I couldn't let my time in Sydney go without mentioning my boss and my place of work seeing as it occupied so much of my time there! I worked for over 4 months in a pharmacy in Brookvale. I spent almost four weeks in Sydney initially looking for work and that's excluding the time I put in around new year. Admittedly it was very disheartening to be trying so hard and getting nothing in return. After yet another day of driving around and mapping out all the pharmacies in the area and going into each one with a CV and my rehearsed spiel, we were finally on our way home when we passed by a pharmacy we had missed and J abruptly pulled over when he saw it and said 'sure you might as well try it.' Wearily I walked in and met Nermine who took my CV and told me she'd leave it with the boss.

The following morning bright and early "Mr. Soprano" called and asked me to come down. Brimming with the excitement of a potential job I rushed down and met the man who finally gave us the break we were looking for. And for that I will be eternally grateful. All J and I wanted at that point was for one of us to get work so that we could get our own place and enjoy city life. With weeks of no luck we were beginning to get concerned that perhaps we might have to try elsewhere. Mr. Soprano was an entertaining character from the beginning. He has a tendency to ramble and after chatting for twenty minutes I was still trying to figure out whether he was actually giving me a job or not!

"So you have a few hours for me then?"

"Yes, yes sure we'll get you off the streets for now, hahahaha, can you start Monday?"

And that was that! I could have hugged the man. Monday to Friday 8.30 - 5pm, no weekends, no late nights! Strolling into that shop when I did turned out to be one of the best things that happened to me in Australia. It made my time in Sydney that much better. I was constantly busy in work. All the staff were lovely, I never worried about work, it was all too easy from the beginning. It was great to have my evenings and weekends free. Mr.Soprano was an old man close to retirement as it turned out. He appeared a bit doddery but in actual fact he is a very smart man, whom I learnt alot from in my time there. He was quite old school in his dealings - sometimes to his detriment. He'd sooner go out of pocket than see anyone go without. More about the people than the profit. It was refreshing to work with him.

He had been located there for almost 50 years - which leads me to the clientele. Mr Soprano, as you may have guessed from the moniker I've given him - is second generation Italian, and so 90% of the customers were Italian, mostly first generation. Many have been here in Australia for years and still speak very little English. Mr S was a Godsend to them. It was a colourful place to work with the aul lads smiling at me and calling me "bella". Many came in with bunches of parsley or bags of lemons for Mr S, I never did quite work out whether it was payment or mere generosity. Mr S did say he used everything they gave him except for the home-made wine!!

My other colleagues were Eygptian and Australian. With pharmacists from different backgrounds working together it made for an interesting work environment. Two of the Eygptians are Muslim and so went off periodically to pray. I've never met anyone from their background and so it was an eye opener to work with and learn from them. Marwa was the closet in age to me (30) and we got on really well. She's who I'll miss the most. Mr S is a man who laughed alot and constantly cracked jokes many of which went over the Eygptians heads but his humour wasn't lost on me. He's also the kinda guy to come back from his lunch with blobs of pasta sauce on his shirt and would pop off at various points during the day down to the corner for his coffee and a chat with whomever was about. He is a very endearing old man I must say with a very big heart.

I worked in comparative bliss to J. He came home each day with browner arms and legs and a sunkissed face while I laboured in my air-conditioned haven! I actually had to iron my clothes while J picked his oldest, dirtiest clothes for work, ha! But we were like two pigs in the proverbial. I joined the Manly Athletics Club and he joined the Dee Why Lions rugby club and so our evenings were active and our weekends jam-packed. It was the typical 'no worries' Aussie lifestyle for five months. Bliss.

We caught a few rugby league games in the Brookie oval, temporary Manly Sea Eagles supporters. Walked across the Harbour bridge, and did a pub crawl around the Rocks. The Australian hotel is a great pub with great food it must be said. Best pies I've tasted in Sydney. Harts in the Rocks is also another great spot.The markets in the Rocks are super and I'm sad to say I didn't frequent them enough. We also did the Spit to Manly walk with our flatmates in tow. Lisa tottered along handbag in one arm and her mobile in the other spending most of the time complaining how much she disliked walking, but she also hates to miss out on anything. Lynda our platunim blond Yorkshire babe was stripped to her bikini top within a matter of minutes working on her tan. Susie was oohing and ahhing at every corner stopping to examine every spider/ reptile we passed. Mother nature herself! We were a funny mix. It was a magnificent walk. It'a coastal trail along cliff tops that hug the harbour and afford the most amazing views out behind the two heads and back over to our beloved Manly too. A'must' if you visit Sydney in my opinion. James and I ventured into the water for a quick swim in one of the coves we passed. It was back to our place after that and out to the wharf bar for the evening.

The weather was great in Sydney pretty much till mid-June. I must admit I was in denial that winter in Australia is bad or cold, but it is! For that reason a trip up north to where the sun always shines was just what the doctor ordered. We weren't done chasing the sun just yet. The expiry of our lease, the fact all our housemates had onward plans and the arrival of my very good friend Helen and her boyfriend James were enough reason to take time off and see the infamous Great Barrier Reef (more to come on that).

Hunter Valley - April 09

2009-07-18T18:17:00.002+08:00

In a bid to get out of Sydney for a weekend we booked two nights in the YHA in hunter Valley, just outside Cessnock. It proved to be a very good decision, Cessnock is a kip and the YHA was a lovely wooden lodge located merely metres away from a large brewery/ pub. Perfect! Myself, James and Colin drove over that direction Friday evening after work and got there about 9pm. I had been the driver and so the two boyos had started drinking in the car en route there, so they arrived full of the joys of the world and skipped off down the road to Potter's Brewery on arrival.

We were up in time the following morning for the winery tour that kicked off at 11am from the hostel. We boarded a small bus ran by a local who happily shipped us from vineyard to vineyard whilst we happily sampled the various wines on offer. A glorious day all round. First stop was the Rosemount and Lindemans winery where we were talked through a number of wines.

The first thing J did of course was to taste a sauce on offer which was loaded with chili's and nearly blew his head off and destroyed his taste buds at the same time. Philistine!! Rosemount and Lindemans wines are pretty well known to us all and so they went down smoothly with nothing major to note.

We had lunch then in Hunter Garden's and a wander around the shops. Next up was Hanging Tree winery which was a small scale operation run by a wonderful couple. He was a horsewhisperer (seriously) who wore cowboy boots and a tshirt with a picture of a horse's head on it. She was all make-up and smiles, both absolutely charming people. She served the wine whilst he gave us all a crash course in horse-whispering. He just about gave her enough air time to tell us what we were drinking. The vineyard itself and the grounds were beautiful and like this dynamic duo full of character. We sat outside by a pond on wooden benches soaking up the wine and scenery. A few purchases were duly made there and then back onto the bus clinking and giggling ready to rock and roll once more.

Onwards then to Savannah Estate where we drank some more, pretended we knew what we were talking about and happily slurped our way through a few more yummy wines. The final port of call was Tempus Two winery, which is probably one of the biggest and most commercial vineyards in the area I reckon. It has a smelly cheese shop right next door too which is wonderful. We glided around in there tasting smelly cheeses, olives and ice-cream. Heaven on earth.

We lived up to the stereotypical Paddy image when we asked to be dropped off at the 'local' instead of returning with the bus to the hostel. The 'local' as it turned is an Irish pub. So we rocked in there and passed a few hours before catching a taxi back to our hostel. From there we went down the road to Potter's with a group of people from our hostel. Great craic to be had there. It was karoke night and we walked in the door just in time to see a hugely over-weight truckie shakin' his thang on the stage and singing Jimmy Barnes "I'm a Working Class Man" falsetto. It was unbelievable! I couldn't stop laughing. It was just priceless.

The following day we checked out and drove over to Tyrell's winery. We did a tour of the cellars there which was great. We were given the low down on the whole process and some information on the Tyrell family tree. The guy who took us around seemed to take a shine to the three Irish in the crowd. And so when it came to tasting the wine he seemed to be leaving the expensive ones accidentally on purpose beside us. James unfortunately was driving so he was spitting but Colin and got to savour every drop of the best Tyrell's had to offer. Needless to say we didn't leave there without making a few purchases. We sat out side after and finished off a cheese plate we'd bought overlooking Tyrell's vineyards. It was a perfect end to our weekend in the Hunter Valley.

Canberra - nothing becomes it like the leaving of it.

2009-07-18T17:57:00.002+08:00

We made it to Canberra (finally!) and checked into a hostel. Canberra is like nowhere I’ve ever been. It’s a planned city, so very spacious and clinical. There is nothing spontaneous or remotely interesting about the feel to the place, it’s what the world would look like if after a nuclear holocaust and the only survivors were a shower of colour blind neo Stalinist town planners on a mission to re-populate. Even the Parliament House looks like a giant bunker from the distance. In fairness we had been warned that the first thing you want to do upon arriving is leave again, but we wanted to see the capital of this great big joint, and we are stubborn.

So determined to find something or somebody worthwhile to generate blogspace about, we promptly found the nearest Irish pub and had pints of porter. Since nothing of obvious interest was going down, and of course given our dwindling finances, the movie industry again benefited and we spent the remainder of the evening in the company of Tom Cruise doing his best impression of a principled Nazi attempting to knock off the Fuhrer.

We rented bikes from the hostel and got a bit of exercise cycling around Lake Burleigh Griffen(named for the architects who designed the joint). We took a tour of the Parliament House, which upon closer inspection is actually quite impressive, and learned the finer points of the Australian parliamentary system. There is an original of the 1297 inspeximus issue of Magna Carta there, which was amazing to see (if you are a nerd like me that is) and I got quite excited about that. Then, some more excitement as outside the old parliament building amidst the famous Aboriginal ‘Tent Embassy’. A bit of trouble was brewing over a recent ‘intervention’ by the Northern Territory authorities on land that the Aboriginals were claiming rights over. We hung out for a bit and soaked it up. The prevailing feeling was that these people had a real grievance to air but were ill equipped and organized to really hammer their point home. Of course this is a struggle that has been going on here since Capt Cook landed in his private jet in Kingsford Smith back in the days when you could still smoke on planes, but I found it sad to see it being carried on by such a raggle taggle mob.

We left and cycled up to the National Museum which is on the Acton Peninsula, had lunch there and a good poke around. Then up Anzac Parade and to the War Memorial Museum for a few hours of despair and disgust at the extent to which humans can thoughtlessly destroy each other. We got back to the hostel late enough, dropped the bikes and caught Sean Penn in Milk at the cinema.

Our last day in the capital we went back to the War Museum for more punishment. We were both taken aback a bit by the extent of Australian involvement in worldwide conflict, and a lot of the displays are amazing. The aircraft section is immense and consists of two hangers full of genuine machines dating from pre WW1 all the way to the present day. I love this kind of stuff, and if this wasn’t a semi public forum I’d admit to my massive collection of airfix planes at home waiting somewhere in a dusty box for me to play with upon my return…..oh feck….

Ahem..anyway..before leaving we decided to take a drive up to Mt Ainslie look out and see the city from a height. Then back on the road, the long and boring road it must be said, to Sydney again.

Great Ocean Road!

2009-07-18T17:32:00.002+08:00

We left Melbourne on the 29th of January and headed out towards the great ocean road. A drive we were very much looking forward to. I mean who doesn't want to see it! It completely lived up to my expectations. The views of the ocean and cliffs as you drive are breath-taking. We took it in turns to drive, both of us wanting to stay in the passenger seat as long as possible. Turn after turn revealed more beautiful scenery. It's a winding road that hugs cliff edges that drop straight and sharply to the ocean in some points. At one part it swings through a forest for a few miles, before emerging once again to blue waters. Our timing was great. Things were really heating up in Melbourne, the city was having it's greatest heat wave in a century with temperatures persisting over 40 degrees celsius for four consecutive days. Train lines were affected and so causing a commuting nightmare, people were crowding into the cinemas and malls to escape the heat and cool off in the air conditioning! It was mayhem. The coast was the place to be. We however we're still getting the extreme temperatures but had the advantage of jumping in and out of the water as much as we could. We were melting in the car! Poor Holden was melting with us, I almost felt like driving him into the flippin water to cool down the engine. It was like being in a hotpot!

Anyway our first stop that day when we got out of Melbourne was Bell's Beach outside Torquay. It's one of the best surf beaches in the country, and that's saying something. It's where they filmed the last scene in 'Point Break' that flick with Keanu Reeves and Patrick Swayze! "Fifty year storm" remember?? Anyway not a place to swim, instead James lay on the sand and let a few waves crash over him, which managed to stop him sweating for about five seconds. That done we got back in the car and slowly meandered our way along pausing here and there to jump out and get a better look, and take a few obligatory snaps. Not that I need persuasion, I'm very trigger happy, I could take the Chinese on when it comes to photo-taking! We stopped in two small towns called Anglesea and Lorne, for food and a swim. We got as far as Apollo Bay the first night where we stayed in a snug backpackers called Surfside Backpackers with a large hammock out the front that pretty much set the mood of the place. Run by a hippy couple we checked in and drove back around to the beach and had our last swim of the day before the sun went down, then chilled out in the hostel for the night. We were pretty hooked on the tennis at this point, as were most people in the hostel, hard to avoid it really.

The following morning our first stop of the day was the Gibson Steps which we descended and stood on the shore for a while looking out to sea. The water was white and foamy with large swells, not hard to understand why it's called the shipwreck coast when you see it like that. Next up was Cape Otway Lighthouse which is unsurprisingly located in Otway National Park. It is the oldest lighthouse in Australia. There was a telegraph station there too years ago from which the first lines of communcation between Australia and Tasmania were established via morse code. It's possible to go up into the lighthouse too which is pretty cool. From there we were only a matter of minutes from the infamous Twelve Apostles of which there are only 8 now! The touristy stuff comes hard and fast once you pass Apollo Bay! The Twelve Apostles as you expect is teeming with tourists with many viewing platforms strategically placed to allow you to take the best pictures from every angle. The copious amounts of Chinese are of course a given. My elbows were out and ready! Ah but in all seriousness it is spectacular, not just the apostles themselves but the view you get from there along the cliff faces and out to sea, it's really very beautiful. Everyone is asking everyone to take pictures of them with their loved one or friend, all sorts of cameras are offered up for the occasion. It's all laughs and embarrassed smiles whilst posing for a photo while ten people are staring and waiting to take you're spot. Great stuff really.

We stayed in Port Campbell that night only a few minutes from the Twelve Apostles, where we spent the evening on the beach till sunset. I had a stroll around the pier before bed. It was a sleepy little town which draws all it's business from the Twelve Apostles, a lovely little spot to spend a night. On a different note Verdasco beat Nadal that night in the semi-final, the match was over 5 hours long. The following day for completeness we drove to the end of the Great Ocean Rd and turned around and took in the last of the touristy stuff on the way back. We had the option at the end of the road to go onto the highway and go back to Melbourne more directly. But we figured we didn't need to be anywhere so why not do it all again. Who know's if we'll ever be back.

The Bay of Martyr's and Bay of Islands got a look in, we were almost immune to the amazing scenery at this point. It is truly ridiculous how beautiful this stretch of coast is! Just to top it all off, we stopped off at Loch Ard Gorge which was the highlight for us both without doubt.when standing on the beach there the sheer height and steepness of the clifs are amazing. The entry out to sea is a narrow strip between the headlands where the waves crash about wildly. We ventured into the water for a few minutes not going out of our depth. It's named after a ship that wrecked there in 1878 travelling from England to Melbourne. Only two people survived, a young English guy and an Irish woman. There was crazy media attention around them at the time, and hope that romance would evolve between them, but it was not to be. It was far more spectacular than the Twelve Apostles in my opinion, plus we had it practically to ourselves.

We got back to Melbourne that evening about 5pm and stayed with Jane for one last night. We went that evening to see Ryan Adams in The Forum, which is a pretty cool venue. Having spent much of the great Ocean Road listening to Ryan Adams, we were pretty psyched up and excited about the gig, but unfortunately he turned out to be such an ass. The music was great, but almost too polished, the band were just going through the motions. There was no interaction or craic from them at all. It was a bit disappointing really. He complained constantly to the sound guy at the side of the stage, his strops were in plain view for all to see. He topped it all off by finshing his set after less than an hour and throwing the mike stand to the ground as he walked off the stage. Pretty immature. We had a few drinks in dingy pub on the corner of Flinders and Swanton where we had a little rant and then hooked up with Jane and the girls in Club 161 on the corner of Chapel and High St. And that was it, Melbourne, ..tick!

Mebourne, Victoria - January 2009

2009-07-18T16:48:00.002+08:00

We had met Jane Beecher at a shindig in Bondi a few weeks ago. She had mentioned that she was moving to Melbourne and insisted we look her up when we got there. Never ones to shy away from a bit of hospitality, and given all accommodation in the city centre was taken due to the Australian Open being in full swing, the offer was too good to be true.

Next morning we sussed out day passes for the tennis, which was fantastic. We caught Navarro beating Martinez Sanchez and sat in for most of Zheng v Bodarenko. Neither of us had ever seen pro tennis live and its safe to say we are hooked after only a few hours of strolling around the Rod Laver complex. What a fantastic facility. After some lunch there we caught some of the mens doubles on the smaller courts before leaving Jane to headout to St Kilda’s for the afternoon.

We walked up along the banks of the Yarra from the Arena and into the magnificent Federation Square and caught a tram out to Melbourne’s seaside haunt. It’s a really cosy little area. We wandered down Fitzroy St and out onto the Esplanade. Acland St which is particularly famed for its' continental cake shops soon had our mouths watering for something sweet!! Then on to the iconic Luna Park for a wander before a quick drink in the nearby Phoenix Bar.

Jane had invited us out to a colleagues birthday bash in Werribbee, so we made our way out there for what turned out to be a great night. A great funk band, nice bar and sound heads.

The following morning, a Sunday, saw us laze about Federation Sq in the blistering heat before heading over to the Eureka Tower to take in views of the entire city from the observation deck there. Then a gander around the Southgate area on the river bank and dinner there.

The next day we visited the Australian Centre for the Moving Image (ACMI) on Fed Sq. There was a great exhibition called ‘Behind the Scenes’ which covered a lot of what it takes to create and shoot locations and movie sets. The entire living room of Faraway Downs from the movie 'Australia' was displayed there, which was pretty cool. The temperature outside was definitely not however, registering at a whopping 44 degrees. After a sweaty walk we had lunch by St Paul’s Cathedral before making our way to the State Library via Swanston St passing the old Town Hall on the way. Ned Kelly’s original armour and facemask are displayed in there. Its amazing how such a thug has managed to create such a vibe of ‘ah sure he was a great fella really’ in modern Ozzy culture. the magnificent La Trobe reading room in the library is worth the visit alone. We had dinner with Jane on the balcony of a restaurant called Cookie, and watched Dokic get knocked out of the Open on the big outdoor screens in Fed Sq.

Our penultimate day in Melbourne was spent at the Shrine of Remembrance, where the hundreds of thousands of Australian men and women who fought and died for their country are commemorated. We also checked out the Arts Precinct where we visited the ACCA and saw a whacky exhibition there.

I had heard that Neil Young was playing in town that night and managed to get two tickets! We had a few drinks out at Brunswick in the Provincial bar and the Retro Café before grabbing a taxi to the Sidney Myer Music Bowl for a date with His Shakeyness.

It was still damn hot, and the venue wasn’t great but after a few beers and a set from My Morning Jacket we were mad for the man himself, and he didn’t disappoint. I had seen him about 5 years ago with Dad in Vicar St. That was an acoustic show, and fantastic, but it paled in comparison with his full electric set. After an epic few hours he finished up with a psychedelic cover of A Day in the Life and we left with big smiles.

Next day began slowly over a late lunch in a Greek restaurant in Toorak, and a few glasses of wine in Jane’s before heading out to the Espy Hotel in St Kilda to see a band called the Nudist Funk Orchestra. I caught up with a friend from college there too. Back to Chapelli’s again for late drinks and food before stumbling around the corner to the leabas! We really enjoyed Melbourne. It has a great atmosphere, quality pubs and restaurants and a serious amount of art and music going on. Big thanks to Jane for putting us up and making us so welcome!!

Wilson's Promontory - January 09

2009-07-08T13:11:00.006+08:00

Wilson's Promontory is the southernmost tip of mainland Australia. It used to form part of a land bridge to Tasmania during a past Ice Age. It was reserved as national park in 1878 and is about 200km from Melbourne and very much worth a stopover. It is a spectacular place. There was times I felt like I was on the edge of the world. It's not uncommon to walk for a few hours and not pass a soul, it feels so much more remote than it is.

We arrived and before we knew it had signed up ourselves up to do a three day hike, round trip. We headed off on a Wednesday evening and got back Friday afternoon. It was just the two of us and a map! We had a chat with a guy in the information centre and he recommended a route that would allow us to see alot of the Prom and bring us back full circle. So we parked up Holden, said our goodbyes and trudged off about 5pm to Oberon Bay. It was only a 6.4km hike that evening to make the first campsite. The route was mainly coastal at this point walking around bays and across cliff tops past Norman Bay, Little Oberon and then finally Oberon Bay where we camped behind the sand dunes. The campsites were just reserved areas of bush for throwing up your tent. They are the real deal, none of the fanciness we'd had till now! There are loos and that's about it. We found a nice spot in amongst the trees and nodded at the two three other people who were setting up for the night. We strolled out onto the beach before 9pm just in time for sunset. It was beautiful and quiet.

Doing a three day hike with nothing other than lemons and some maple syrup may seem mental but the advantages were that we had minimal food to carry, and there was nothing to tempt us to break the detox. Poor James had the biggest load with our tent and most of our gear in his rucksack, while I had very little to carry. We decided on one big bag only and he very generously carried it. My only defence is that he's bigger and stronger!!

We set off the next morning early enough, we had 18km to cover before sunset and we were unsure of the terrain. It started off as a beautifully sunny day as we traversed the width of the Prom through woods of Coastal Tea-trees. The track was all sand and we passed maybe five people that day. As we reached Waterloo Bay the clouds appeared and our dreams of jumping into the sea were quashed as we quickly ran to find some shelter. It poured monsoon type rain for about an hour. We were soaked right through. About 2pm we reached Waterloo Bay where we had the beach all to ourselves. Not a single footprint on the sand. The sun appeared again and we used to opportunity to have a wash and let our clothes dry on the rocks! It was blissful just bobbing in the water with miles of ocean to one side and a beautiful beach backed by the rugged cliffs of the Prom to the other.

From there we hiked up Kersop Peak for the most fantastic views. It was a struggle to get up there, we were wet and tired but it was worth it. We descended into Refuge Cove a few hours later where set up camp for the night. Refuge Cove has a beautiful beach surrounded by forest and cliff walls. We camped in the forest behind the beach. Gale force winds ensued for awhile while we tried to put the tent up which made it quite difficult. We were both a little worried about it holding up for the night. It already had sticky tape holding it together, gale force winds we did not need! But she held up grand and we stayed huddled in there for the evening, reading, snoozing, talking about food....................

The last day we woke and set off to cover the 15km trek back to the Holden. After only 6km we reached Sealers Cove. It was a great hike more stunning views, more peaks more forests and beaches as we pushed on. Sealers Cove is phenomenal. The tide was so far out, and so the cove stretched out for miles before us. We padded across the sand to stick our toes in the water before getting very excited about our surroundings and jumping in for a swim. The last 9km inland to the carpark were a challenge. We were pooped when we got back to the car. All I'll say is pumpkin soup was consumed and it never tasted soo good. The detox was over, after five days!

It was Friday evening and we were headed once again to another big city. We rolled into the corner of Toorak and Chapel st. around 8pm (just around the corner from Jane's apartment as it turned out) and went mad and had a salad in Chapelllis's while we waited for her to meet us. Tired and in desperate need of a shower we were ever so grateful for her hospitality.

The Sapphire Coast - January 2009

2009-07-08T08:50:00.005+08:00

Ahh the road again ,the dusty open road. Off we set sometime in the mid afternoon from Ryde with the thoughts of beachside campsites drawing us ever closer to the coast. We set up the tent in Huskisson caravan park in Jervis Bay for the night.

The morning sun welcomed us to the world of outdoor living again, and were up and ready to go again at 6am. After a quick stroll around Huskisson Village we drove to Hyams Beach, a stop at which had been highly recommended by Lorraine. It is a truly gorgeous spot, and we had a refreshing swim and lazed like two beached whales on the white sands eating oranges and reading the papers. Magic. The water was like that off Koh Tao in Thailand. Up the track a few miles is Booderee National Park, and we walked a 6km loop that starts and finishes at Murray Beach, another impeccable stretch of sand. These are the kind of places that make you stop in your tracks, take a deep breath, and thank the great powers that be that you are alive to be there in that moment. The views from Governor Head take in Jervis Bay and are spectacular.

The south coast of Sydney is very different to the north east. The beaches are white and the waters tropical and calm. Just stunning. So unexpected after miles and miles of surf beaches. It was hard to leave there that morning. And it's only a few hours from Sydney!

Onward towards Narooma where we settled into a surf side campsite for the evening. This stretch of the southern NSW coastline is aptly named the Sapphire Coast – the waters take in a hue that is pretty damn inviting for a dip.

We had discussed the state of our respective livers on the car journey and had decided, in true binge culture fashion, to undertake a crazy lemon detox diet. So we savoured a final meal of barbequed prawns before going to the charmingly kitsch Narooma Kinema to see Woody Allen’s excellent Vicky Christina Barcelona. The building is heritage listed and only sits 26 people!

On the first morning of the fast we chilled out on Surf Beach in Narooma before driving the coastal route to Mallacoota via Bermagui and Biamanga National Parks. We also stopped in Merimbula to catch up on emails before crossing the NSW / Victoria border.

May I (Sarah) add here that James was actually snoozing at this point. So it was bye to sparkly waters of the Saphire Coast and instead I was greeted with sign posts saying "Welcome to Victoria, Welcome to Lakes and Wilderness." I cruised along a two laned highway lined on both sides with dense forest. I barely passed another car for miles. It was a stark contrast to what we'd left behind in NSW.

The drive to Mallacoota was 20km off the main road. It was a winding road through Croanjingolong National Park. Mallacoota is nestled right on the coastline at the mouth of an extensive lake system, with a population of 8,500.

The Foreshore Caravan Park was stunning, (700 sites in total!!) and gave great views of the surrounding lake system and park lands. All along the beachfront here there are campsites with their own individual moorings. If you are inclined towards the outdoor life at all, then this place has it all. Saddle up your 4x4, throw the fishing roads into the boat and tow it down to Mallacoota. Fish and swim all day and BBQ and drink beer watching the sun set over the Tasman Sea.

In an effort to stave off any temptation to eat or drink we found a ‘cinema’ on the grounds of the caravan park and endured some rubbish Christmas movie. It was shown in a gym hall, and for the first time in living memory we were afforded an interval to stretch our legs and pop out to the shop to stare lustily at all the sweets and popcorn before heading in for round 2. So many of these little coastal towns are throwbacks to what Ireland was like pre – boom. They have an air of wholesomeness mixed with boredom and a sense that there is something infinitely better and more interesting going on elsewhere that I distinctly remember of Naas in the early 1990’s!! Maybe that’s just what its like to be a kid anywhere I suppose but sitting there on me plastic seat with the smell of damp carpet wafting around me in that cinema I was 11 again in Dara II wedged in at the back on a barstool watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

The next morning we celebrated our 10 year (!!!!) anniversary with a walk along Mallacoota Beach and a quick swim there before driving to Lakes Entrance. The diet, (which consists of nothing but water and a lemon and maple syrup drink by the way) was starting to kick in and we both felt fairly lethargic and a bit edgy to be honest! After our excesses over the past few weeks it was a small price to pay for our bodies to get a bit of respite!

On the way to Lakes Entrance we drove the stretch of coast from Cape Conran to Marlo in a bid to catch glimpses of the beautiful colours of the ocean along that road. We stopped in Marlo for a swim, but were disappointed with muddy waters. The temperature seemed to be creeping up each day and we needed to stop more and more to cool off!

I wasn’t particularly taken with Lakes Entrance anyway to be honest, it’s a strip of commerciality hidden from the sea by a series of huge sand dunes. One thing of interest was the abundance of black swans there with their red beaks! I'd never seen them before! 99 mile beach is nowhere near as pretty as what we had already experienced further north, so after a wander about we again found a cinema and were content to call it a night.

Sydney - Again!

2009-07-06T10:15:00.005+08:00

Sydney - again!

So back into Sydney's northern beaches we rolled just in time for Colin's birthday celebrations. A serious session ensued in Col and Sandra's apartment on Wheeler Parade. A big BBQ, pints aplenty, a brazilian bongo section, an Irish lap dancer, general fantastic mayhem!!

Picking our way out from all the bodies on the floor the next morning, and after a few hours on the beach in Dee Why we made our way into the city towards Paddington. Friends of Col's had kindly offered to put us up and we spent the night in a lovely terraced house in Paddo. Then on to a housewarming on Bondi Road where we met a load more Paddys of various shapes and sizes. A few hours on the beach in Bondi getting knocked about in the surf and a nice brunch on Oxford St relaxed our hangovers sufficiently to hop in Holden and make our way out to Jim and Lorraines in Ryde the next day. We had dinner at a lovely little Vietnamese restaurant in Gladesville.

The next morning, a bright and sunny Monday, the hunt for employment was ramped up and I went into the CBD to meet afew recruitment agents (one of which was from Kilcullen!) while Sarah called into a few pharmacies in the Ryde area with Lorraine. The next few days were spent similarly, and I even managed to squeeze in a game of tag rugby in Centennial Park with the crowd we had met over the weekend in Bondi. Towards the end of the week we drove up to Palm Beach,a well worn path for Irish backpackers hoping to catch a glimpse of Home and Away. We had a contemplative coffee at the kiosk under the sign reassuring us of one A. Stewart's presidency of the surf club! The area is beautiful, and we took a walk up to Barrenjoey Head to take in the surroundsand had lunch in the Newport Arms Hotel beforereturning to Ryde to cook up for our hosts.

For our last evening before hitting the road towards Melbourne Lorraine decided she wanted to show us around Belmain, a leafy suburb full of life on a Friday night. So we met Jim after he finished work for a drink in the Exchange Hotel before dining in an Indian restaurant on Darling St. We cannot say enough about the hospitality extended to us by in Ryde, it was fantastic.

So bleary eyed once again, determined to live the healthy life for a few days, we saddled up Holden and hit the highway south armed with a list of recommendations from Lorraine to explore the coastline south of Sydney.

January

2009-07-02T16:52:00.001+08:00

It's a beautiful thing to start the new year off knowing you're hitting the road again. It's such a nice change for a January. So shattered, sun scorched, hungover, giddy, delighted, nervy,...emmm yeah shattered..we left Woodford having well and truly got stuck in for the week.Carmel and Paraic's unending hospitality meant that even though they were away they left their key out for us to let ourselves in and catch up on some sleep and do our laundry before heading off. Good old P and C, what would we have done without them? We had dropped them and a few of the Paddy Mafia to the airport to catch flights to Tasmania before th festival and said our farewells. Sounder people you could not meet.

We headed out of Brisbane by lunchtime on January 3rd driving south to Lamington National Park. Having dissected the coast coming up we decided to explore the hinterland of NSW on the way back down. Inland of the Gold Coast are Lamington and Tambourine Mountain National Parks. Nestled between the two is Spring Gully campsite to which we were headed.

The drive there was beautiful winding up the small narrow roads of Tambourine Mountain. The mountain towns in Australia are far more charming than the coastal towns. They have quirky shops and cafes,better restaurants and just prettier in general. Spring Gully was a Lonely Planet pick and it actually was better than what they described for once. It is tucked away at the bottom of the slopes of the surrounding mountains beside a river. It's well off the beaten track and only possible to get to with a car, passing studs with signs outside claiming to house national prize winning stallions.

We arrived late and set up our tent (now absolute pros at it!). With only one other couple there it wasn't long before we got talking to them. They'd made a fire which we huddled around for the evening.

The following day we drove a couple kilometres to Lamington National Park and strolled a tree top walk there and all 3.4km of Python Rock trail. We made our way towards the coast that afternoon to check out the infamous Gold Coast. An abiding memory is the sight of skyscrapers rising up as we came closer to the coast line - Surfer's Paradise. It was awful really. The fact we'd just come from a sleepy village in the mountains meant we were probably more appalled than we would have been coming straight from Brisbane. Surfer's wasn't for us. To enjoy yoursleves it seems you need money, oodles of it I reckon. Shopping, drinking and surfing being the main past-times.

With a tent in the car and on a budget we kept on cruising south through Broadbeach, Kirra beach and Coolangatta. Just more and more beachy towns where the buildings bit by bit shrunk back down until we eventually reached Tweed Heads (home of Marshall and the Fro!) and camped there that night. Fairly uneventful spot on the water.

The next few days for that matter passed by without much to note. We passed our time stopping off when we could for a swim and generally kept an eye out for a place to camp as the sun went down, a pretty lazy, easy existence. We began to focus on jobs and figure out a general plan of action for the coming months. That was the hot topic for discussion during all those hours spent in the car! Something we'd firmly stuck on the long finger for a few months now! We camped in South Ballina and saw the 'Big Prawn' far more interesting than the banana!

Corindi Beach was a lovely little spot. Nothing much to the place other than the beach. The campsite was perched right on the clifftop over-looking the beach. We actually saw dolphins in the water whilst sitting having our breakfast on a picnic bench over-looking the sea. Nice way to start the day.

We stopped in Macksville on the way to Port Macquarie, for those of you who've read Bill Bryson's 'Down Under' might remember his scathing comments about this town. He compares some of these towns to what the US was like in the 1950's. There can be that feeling sometimes that you're in a time warp. Some of these places seem so dated and separate to the rest of the world.

We camped in Port Macquarie another night and treated oursleves to dinner and drinks in the Beach House. We were later spoilt with a free BBQ and movie by the campsite entertainment. The movie was a surf flick and the BBQ free "sauso's" but we weren't complaining. The following day we checked out the old courthouse before continuing on our journey. We put in a good few driving hours heading back to Sydney keen to just cover ground. We were planning on making it back in time for Friday night and Colin's birthday celebrations. Ah city life once more!

New Year's Eve at Woodford

2009-05-14T15:53:00.005+08:00

We decided that a few days at a music fest would be great way to celebrate New Years. Woodford Folk Festival goes on for a full week. We skipped the first two days which was just as well as they were a wash out, and got there for the 29th just in time for the heatwave.

Woodford is a notoriously wet affair, oh, but not this year! We were lucky enough to have a scorcher of a week. Jesus it was steamin'! It remained high 30's for the duration, with extreme humidity. Every year at home we pray for a dry Electric Picnic - well we got the complete opposite of it with Woodford. The heat was soooo intense at one point we hoped it would rain! I know! We were actually drinking at least six litres of water a day and barely going to the toilet. I had to wait till the sun went down before I could start consuming alcohol! It was torturous!

On the way there we got stuck behind a few camper vans with bumper stickers that said stuff like "At this age I'm just glad to be driving anywhere!" and "Adventure before Dementia!" So that kind of set the tone for the week. There were alot of older people there and families, as well as people our age, it was a funny mix of hippies, locals and tourists.

The first day we arrived and lost about a stone of sweat whilst putting up the tent, had a cold shower and headed into the 'village' to check out what was going. The first act we saw were called 'Wild Marmalade' they were a two piece act playing didgereedance music with live drums and a didgeree doo! Mid-way through the act an aboriginal man came out and started to dance/ hop/ jump around the stage. I don't think it was quite a traditional dance, but it certainly was quite a scene. All hugely entertaining. So much so that we bought the cd and have been listening to dance by didge whilst driving around Oz!

Later on we saw Marshall and the Fro in the Blues n' Roots venue. They were great, very entertaining. The cool thing about Woodford was that over the week lots of acts play more than once in different venues in the festival grounds so you can catch them as many times as you want. Marshall himself is a country singer with a gravelly voice belting out very catchy country/ blues tunes. When James first saw him he turned to me and said 'I don't think I've ever seen a real life Cleetus before' Everyone was dancing and the atmosphere was great. Half way through the set a guy got up on the stage and proposed to his girlfriend to cheers from the crowd, ultimate cheese fest! I was loving every minute of it!

Some of the quality songs had titles such as 'I got my thongs on, you got your thongs on?' Pretty deep stuff! At one point during the set two skinny white kids (the only way I can describe them) came out to do some back up singing and dancing, they looked like they'd just stepped off the set of 'The Brady Bunch', it was all so incongruous and hilarious. James and I were fit to pee in our pants at this point.

Later we caught up with Maureen and Kevin that first night for a drink in the Guinness bar (an older couple we'd met at C and P's, who attend Woodford every year). They are a lovely pair who told us about Woodford in the first place.

Inevitably we over did it the first night and ended up passing the following morning panned out on some rather large cushions in the Chai tent listening to a group of female vocalists do their thang. We eventually peeled ourselves off the floor and headed in search of fodder.

We caught some of Jeff Lang's set, he was a bit too country for me though. A relatively well known band here called Augie March played a few anthem type tunes that night in the amphitheatre. They were great, I really enjoyed that gig. The amphitheatre deserves a mention. It's a natural amphitheatre surrounded by woods around the top rim. The trail to it is relatively long and so the sounds of the rest of the festival can't be heard there. It holds the largest number of people at the festival, the main stage I suppose. It is a really beautiful setting especially at night.

We caught up with Maureen and Kevin again at the Blues Booze Bar where we were highly amused by 'The Pigs' who were a hick band that played country covers of Franz Ferdinand and Rage Against The Machine tunes. I've never heard anything like them, they were fantastic! The great thing about Woodford are all the little bars and cafes that are dotted all over the place, so you can actually say to someone I'll see you in that pub and actually manage to find them. It'a quite a homely atmosphere. The Village Green was central to the village, where we spent at lot of time chillin out in the shade consuming the various produce the festival had to offer. The food was great and cheap!

New Years Eve morning we headed to the Duck n' Shovel to watch some open mic stuff. Caroline at this point had found herself a local boy from Brisbane and so we caught up with her now and then throughout the next few days. That girl can party!The rest of the afternoon was spent watching David Hyam's and the Miles To Go band, who were a big Irish ceili type band. I also attended a Prostate Empowerment talk (the inner nerd in me couldn't resist a bit of intellectual stimulation!ha!). J headed off to a singing workshop with the members of The Kin. I see writing this now that perhaps that should have been the other way round???! We were happy to see The Stiff Gins - two Australian girls of Aboriginal origin that had the most beautiful voices. It was nice to catch some traditional Aboriginal music. They sang a song in their native tongue too, which was interesting.

We headed back to camp to cook up a storm prior to the evening ahead, and to fill our pockets and bottles with red wine. Our budget couldn't quite stretch to buying drink all week and luckily for us bringing drink in was easy! Loaded up we headed into meet Kevin and attend 'Dancing Hands' a sign language act Maureen was performing in. It was a bit bizaare, considering it's a music festival and so attending an act in sign language was a little different to say the least, but we got involved as we always do! After James's afternoon with The Kin we decided to check them out.

They are two brothers with absolutely fantastic voices, a cross between Arcade Fire and a boy band of sorts - if that makes any sense. I really liked them. We caught another dose of Marshall and The Fro, not quite the same as the first night but that was a hard act to follow! At 11.30pm there was a minute silence across the whole festival in order for everyone to think of the year past and make your wishes and ambitions for the year ahead. Candles were handed out to everyone and at the sound of the gong we blew them out! Perhaps a little cheesy but nice all the same. We made our way to the amphitheatre for the countdown. At Woodford the big night is the 1st of January as opposed to the 31st of December, it's also the final night of the festival.

On January 1st James played at the Duck n' Shovel! He was great, best act I saw all week! We watched the 'Bluegrass Parkway' after that, who played old timey Oh Brother How Art Thou-esque tunes huddled around the one aold radio mic. At this point we were better armed for the baking heat and I'd bought a spritzer for our water bottle which we used to cool ourselves down. The humidity was pretty unbearable at times. So there we sat with all the geriatrics on the white plastic garden shairs watching the Bluegrass Parkway, glad of a chair and a bit of shade. Yeah it was a bit like that at times!

We were lucky enough to squeeze into the Muse tent later that day and see 'That One Guy' (Google him!!) He was fantastic, he had what I can only describe as a magic pipe! It was a long metal instrument that stood taller than him, and yet curved in such a way that he could tuck his shoulder under it. It had bass strings and drum pads and all other sorts of devices that made noise. He sang too! We saw the end of The Wells in our efforts to get seats for Dougie McClean (Scottish artist, whom I'm sure some of you have heard of?) He was cool, lovely voice but I think the ol' foggies were a bit more enthusiastic than us!

We caught up with Maureen, Kev, Caroline and Trent for a few drinks before New years mayhem ensued and we lost each other! The amphitheatre was ram-packed for the closing ceremony, we just about managed to find a spot on the grass to watch it all. It was very atmospheric, everyone was tightly huddled together. The temperature had dropped once the sun went down and we were wrapped up in blankets waiting expectantly for the show to begin. And what a show! It was one of the most memorable New Year's eve I've ever had. Against the pitch black skies the most spectacular light parade started. Hundreds of people marched with lanterns to the main stage where a massive choir and Dougie McClean were standing all dressed in white. In the background thunder growled and lightning struck over head the satge. It was amazing.

The whole crowd was ooh-ing and aww-ing, you just couldn't help yourself! There was a theatrical performance in front of the stage with actors on large stilts lepping around the place and large puppets bobbing up and down. There was a massive windmill to the left of the stage which had been there all week, and half way through the fire show they lit it and the whole thing went up in flames. It was phenomenal! The performers danced around as fireworks went off! It really was such a memorable evening, a fantastic start to the year.

Christmas in Brissy

2009-05-10T12:16:00.005+08:00

Having accepted an earlier invite from Carmel and Paraic to spend Christmas at theirs' we spun around on the 22nd and started to head back south. The option at that point was to push up further north and get to Cairns and potentially melt on the way up or to head back to Brisbane and spend Christmas with friends. It was a no brainer. Cairns could wait.

Driving back to Brisbane was great in the sense that it had a whole driving home for Christmas vibe, except that for the most part I drove in my bikini and J in his shorts! It was flippin hot!We had no Christmas tapes or functioning radio, so James and I sang any Christmas carols we knew. A bit cheesy I know but we were excited and desperately wanted to get in the festive mood.

Carmel and Paraic had made us feel so welcome in their home that we were really looking forward to heading back. They've such a lovely house and Carmel is an amazing cook! It was like driving home to our mammies! We put the foot down, did some excessive driving and got back by 4pm on the 23rd, a day earlier than planned. We rocked into Capalaba and straight into the nearest bottle shop to pick up some supplies, we hadn't had much of a silly season and so were planning to make up for it.

That evening Carmel and ourselves headed into Southbank to meet Paraic and partake in some Christmas festivities in the city. We had a few drinks in the Plough Inn, watched the Christmas carols and then the fireworks over Brisbane river. It was a lovely evening and just what we had needed to feel like it was actually Christmas. To further reinforce the point, Carmel had brought a route mapped out in the local paper of houses which were "lit up" for Christmas. And what a treat that turned out to be! We drove to a couple of over the top houses with giant cribs, reindeer and santa claus in the lawns. You all know what I'm talking about! It was hilarious. Some people go to serious efforts. And that evening in particular it was open house so you could go have a wander in the garden take a photo, a general snoop if you will and that's what we did, or more so I did! After that there was no mistaking it was Christmas!!!

After what was an epic sleep in a room with a fan, James and I didn't know ourselves! We headed off to do some last minute shopping Christmas Eve, something I rarely do as I'm normally super organised and let me tell you it's no fun shopping Christmas Eve. We wandered around an air-conditioned mall kind of aimlessly feeling a little bit homesick truth be told. Then back in time to chill out for awhile before mass. Mass was a breezy affair with all the windows open (yes it really was that flippin' hot). The bible pages were fluttering and the priests vestaments flappin'! We came in the back and as we were standing there scanning the crowd for seats an Irish man turns to us and said "Ah jaysus, sure you can't stand down the back, you're not at home now!" We all had a bit of a giggle before finding some seats over beside the baptismal font which was as big as a jacuzzi!

Our fellow churchgoers were far better equipped, they came with their own chairs and bottles of water. It was like a concert was about to kick off. Half way through a nativity play ensued during which a young baby nearby farted extemely loudly. His poor parents couldn't contain themselves.

No one fainted anyway and the rest of the service went off as normal. The aforementioned Irish guy was asked by the priest to say a few words in Irish, he went bright red God love him. As the priest asked could anyone else speak Irish Carmel shrunk her head as we all looked at her. Very funny. We had a few drinks that night before the big day! Christmas morning we were up bright and early, lots of presents to open and lots to do before everyone arrived. I've failed to mention that we were not Carmel's only guest, an English girl Caroline and another ten Irish friends for dinner, so fifteen of us in total! James and I very excitedly open all the gifts we received, we were over the moon with everything. We sat there munching Tayto as we made our way through everything. I've only been away for Christmas day twice now in my life and both times have been great, fantastic in fact. But it's hard to replace the family part, and this was my first Christmas in the sunshine.

It was very different but great, and all the presents from home were so uplifting. We had so much stuff to open we were like two big kids unwrapping it all. Thank you to all of you who sent things, you have us spoiled, seriously. Carmel had the air-con. on full blast as she had the oven on and we were all busy doing various tasks. There had been some serious delegation in relation to dinner and so we were just doing the veg! The other people were looking after desserts, the turkey and starters etc etc By God Carmel can put on a spread even if she's doing only vegetables the amount we had was epic. I couldn't wait for Christmas dinner!

The starters consisted of a prawn salad and oysters covered with worcester sauce and shredded bacon, mmmmmmmmmmm. Jackie you're a genius. Turkey and ham supplied by Michelle, copious amounts of potatoes and lots of wine. We were all set! We all packed in around two tables and had the most delicious meal. Honestly it was the usual scenario where you're fit to pass out after dinner but instead everyone changed into their swimsuits and in we went all fifteen of us into the pool. Michelle and Tommy had brought inflatable toys. As you can only imagine, a half pissed bunch of Paddy's in a swimming pool on Christmas Day, the craic was mighty! In fact it was just we needed for a second wind, it's what we're all missing at home!

Normally my sister drags most of us out for a walk in the evening, generally it's the last thing I want to do but the guilt of over-indulgence gets to me and off I go. However frolicking around in a pool post Christmas dinner is far better, and warmer! There was one non-entry to the pool (Dermot), he instead sat and drank and watched and all I'll say is he was proclaiming his love to J and his music later on that night. The rest of the day passed with more eating and drinking, much like home except we all sat out on the patio. There was plenty of singing from everyone. J whipped out the guitar too and kept us all entertained.

It was a super Christmas. J and I will forever be indebted to Carmel and Paraic for their hospitality and just generally making us feel so welcome with them. It was great to be with a group of people. And there was always the worry of 'the dinner'. It just wouldn't have been the same if J and I had been camping and ended up cooking a BBQ and doing it Aussie style! Christmas dinner only comes once a year and God forbid we miss it! Even if it does mean closing all the doors and cranking up the AC full blast!

On St. Stephen's day we jumped in the pool again for a cool down, and then spent the afternoon eating leftovers and watching a dvd. It was absolute heaven having a few home comforts for a few days, after camping soo much we really lapped it up. Everyone came back over around 5pm and we ate and drank some more till we could do no more! And that's it, that's our Christmas in Oz over. I wonder where we'll be next year.......

Whitsunday Islands

2009-05-10T11:34:00.007+08:00

We left Hervey Bay for Airlie Beach and made it up to a Big4 campsite in a couple of hours. It was about 40 degress. On our first full day in Airlie we arranged a trip out to the charmingly monikered Daydream Island, a stunning little spot. The town of Airlie itself is nothing special, a hot hazy neon signed outpost that is no reflection of the serenity that one encounters once out in the midst of the 30 or so islands that make up the Whitsunday group.

So we had little trouble arranging a ferry trip out to Daydream (which is actually in the Molle group of islands), a tiny speck of a place that is only a kilometre long by about 500 metres wide. The entire place is a resort, and is open for day trippers from the mainland.

After a few hours of running between the enormous pool complex and the beach we moved into another part of the resort, following palm tree lined pathways over pools of sting rays and reef sharks, had some lunch and swam it off for the afternoon. We caught the last ferry back to Airlie and organised a trip for the next day that would incorporate Hamilton Island and the fabled Whitehaven Beach.

Up early the next morning we took the fast ferry out to Hamilton, again a disgusting little place full of white sand, big blue sky and good looking people. The island is a fair bit bigger than Daydream and we traversed from the harbour side passing beautiful big jacaranda trees. We set ourselves up on the beach, decided against a dip in the ocean upon reading warning signs about murderous jellyfish, and cursed our luck at once again having arrived in paradise. Unfortunately we had to rouse ourselves from this lapse into another few hours of that feeling of 'oh this is how God really intended us all to live to catch the boat to what is billed as the most spectacular beach in the country - Whitehaven.

The ferry service, run by Fantasea Adventures, was great. Friendly, informative, efficient - and they feed you to boot. We settled into a big buffet lunch with an Ozzy girl and here mum and chatted about the general splendour of our surrounds weighing anchor just off the beach. The white sands, created by the amount of silica deposits in the area, are breathtaking. We lined up to be skiffed to the beach from the ferry, and were each issued with a stern warning about those aforementioned jellyfish accompanied by what can best be described as a luminous body condom. Now the locals call these things 'stinger suits', but it seems fairly obvious to me that there is a long standing practical joke afoot that was concocted by tour guides one night late over a couple of drinks while watching an episode of Telly Tubbies.

So suitably and quite ridiculously attired I jumped straight into the water daring any living creature with a love of all things bright and shiny to have a nibble. Again a few hours of laziness, a few tins of Tooheys ever so thoughtfully provided by our hosts, and before we knew it we were back on dry land in Airlie vowing with all our might to one day return to these glorious islands.

Holden needed a trip to the mechanic before the big trip back to Brisbane, but as soon as he was ready we hit the road south, looking forward to Christmas with Carmel and Paraic in Brisbane!

Fraser Island Dec 14th-16th 2008

2009-04-13T16:06:00.008+08:00

Right back to the blog! Despite our recently up to date entry we will endeavour to fill in the gaps that are still blank! So here it goes.............

We booked into Koala hostel in Hervey Bay for a few nights, which is just north of the Sunshine Coast. We met up with our group for orientation the day before leaving for Fraser Island. We had a great mix of people, not too many wanting to drive though! Myself and J and two others reluctantly put our names down. The more the tour operators talked us through how to drive the 4WD through creeks and soft sand, about when to be in 2WD and when to use 4WD, air pressure and gear changes the more my head spun! In the end James did all the driving for the three days! Lucky for us he was really enjoying it and so those of us tentative about it managed to avoid it! It was a massive vehicle that held ten of us! There are so many things that can go wrong on the island as the video they showed pointed out to us! It brought back a few memories of bouncing around in our 4WD in Mongolia.

Our group was made up of a girl from London (Annie), an English couple from Torquay (Peter and Alice), two guys from Stockholm (Markus and Mikael), a Toronto lady (Stacey) and two French sisters from Biarritz (Laura and Amber). All ten of us got on great. I really enjoyed being with a group of people again. James and I had gotten so used to each other that we had forgotten what it was like to be part of a big group, socially it was great. The Swedes in particular were the funniest and kept everyone amused for the few days. They were both drummers and very musical so they were constantly singing or making music no matter what they were doing. They both had really red hair and so everyone either thought they were brothers or that they were Irish. I've never seen two boys such good mates. It took a few moments to realise they weren't taking the proverbial and were just genuinely nice boys.

The two French sisters were divas and a little wet behind the ears. However I suppose they were a few years younger than the rest of us and obviously were used to having someone do everything for them. They never cooked or cleaned the few days we were together. They emerged late from their tent every morning just after we 'd all finished and washed up, with their make-up on and looking for something to eat. Poor old Pete must have had a soft spot for them, as one morning we caught him washing dishes for them whilst they stood and watched. They were a little helpless God love them! But having said all that they were nice girls and too many cooks spoil the broth!

The first morning before we left we were up at 6am packing the jeeps, getting more info and safety advice from the hostel staff about our vehicles and the island itself. There was a convoy of three 4WD's going from our hostel so we all set off together to catch the ferry, rumbling down the esplanade towards River Heads ferry point. It was a quick 40 minute journey across and as you would expect there was plenty of other groups from other hostels all packed on to the ferry. I had a feeling it was gonna be a big night! With thirty from our hostel and all the other jeeps on the ferry able to fit at least ten people there was a big group about to land on Fraser!

The first stop was Central Station on the island, there was nowhere to swim so we decided to keep going. A wrong turn out from there meant J had to turn the jeep around and inevitably it got caught in soft sand! We were only thirty minutes on the island at this point and all of us were out of the jeep digging with the shovel (provided!) and our hands and pushing the jeep while J revved. It was a pretty funny experience. It also meant that our group bonded straight away, we all had to get stuck in. From then on any time the jeep got stuck it was a team effort to get it going again. The sand was soo hot it was burning our feet. There is nothing quite like getting a two tonne 4WD vehicle stuck in the sand to bring a group together! A couple of us got covered in sand from the back wheels spinning, so by the time we reached Lake Birrabeen we were ready to jump into the water to cool off.

I think for all of us this was one of our favourite spots on the island. It was well and truly worth the wait,a short trail brought us through some woods and then the lake emerged in front of us. Blue sparkling waters and white sands, absolutely beautiful. The two other groups from our hostel were drying off just as we arrived screaming and running towards the water, wondering what had taken us so long. So we splashed about for awhile before me and a few other sensible ones got concerned about tide times and our proven track record of driving and decided to get moving again.

Onwards to Lake Boomanjin, this time no hassle getting there. To be fair here James was great it was the nine navigators shouting which way to go was what got us stuck in a rut the first time time!

Lake Boomanjin was very unusual, it had tea-coloured water. It felt like swimming in a cup of tea, or blood depending on your imagination! It looked like the kind of water you'd imagine a crocodile to emerge from, myself and the girls managed to spook oursleves enough that we didn't spend a whole lot of time there!

From there it was 10.5km to Dilli Village which was the entry point onto Seventy-five Mile Beach on the east coast of Fraser. Up until now all the swimming spots were fresh water lakes that we had passed traversing the island. Some of you probably know you can't swim off Fraser Island what with killer currents and man-eating sharks waiting for you!

Once we got onto the beach it was less bumpy and the sand is hard so we were able to fly along the shore to Cornwell's Campground and get there just before 5pm. The speed limit on the beach is 80 km/p/hr which feels pretty fast, and if you hit even the smallest mound of sand, well suffice to say our petit Canadian was lifted off her seat a few times!! Shotgun was definitely the best seat in the jeep! Also any dreams you may have of speeding through the water along the shore are squashed as any traces of salt water on the vehicle means loss of deposit - something none of us were willing to risk.

The first night was great we pitched or tents and got cooking. Within no time the beer and goon was flowing. We had a big BBQ and proceeded to drink the night away as the sun set. It was pretty idyllic surroundings. I saw one dingo that night lurking around the campsite but he did not come too close. Everyone is warned to stay well away from them (not that everyone adheres to that) as they can be quite vicious. A tragic event occurred a few years ago where a five year old boy was killed by being mauled to death by a dingo (hence "dingo ate me baybeee!". So we were warned to stay in groups at all times. I didn't need to be told twice!

It wasn't long before James had the guitar out and all thirty of us were gathered around a couple of flashlights singing under the stars. It was a great night.

The following morning due to tides we couldn't make a move till nearly noon. It was just as well because there were a few sore heads. Waking up in a tent with a hangover and sand everywhere, no showers and minmal drinking water was not fun. But we made do. Stacey and Alice made about thirty sandwiches that morning. Pete was up at the crack of dawn cleaning our jeep (bless). He andAlice had a giant huntsman on their tent the previous night, and lets just say they like spiders as much as I do. The two French divas emerged just as everything was packed away with make-up on and looking for breakfast. Mais parfait!

As soon as it seemed safe to go we headed north to Indian head. This is a rocky headland at the far north east corner of Fraser, and it gives the most fantastic view back down Seventy-five Mile Beach and out to sea. From the top we could see tiger sharks swimming below and turtles too. It was amazing. I couldn't believe I was standing on a desert island surrounded by dangerous undertows and man-eating sharks, it was nuts.

From there we went back towards camp taking in the main sights as we drove. First stop was the Pinnacles which are coloured sands on a cliff face, about as exciting as they sound. Next up was the Maheno shipwreck which is really impressive. It ran aground in 1935, and all that's left of it now is it's rusty skeleton but still a fascinating sight. The last main stop of the day was at Eli Creek. The creek runs right out onto the beach and into the ocean forming a fairly big washout but luckily that day it wasn't too high and so we were able to get across it hassle free. The attraction with Eli is that it's only about knee deep so we all waded upstream as far as allowed and then you lie on your back and the swift current carries you the whole way back to the beach. It was great craic! The water is crystal clear and I remember floating by frangipani flowers as the water carried me downstream, with big droopy trees hanging overhead. Like a bunch of kids we all lay on our backs and attempted to race each other downstream with hilarious consequences. After all that excitement we sat on the beach and had a late lunch. A magic day.

That evening before dinner a group of us took a stroll down the main beach and the sunset was pretty spectacular a whirl of pinks and orange. Fraser is a very special place. More drinking and eating resumed the second night but nothing too crazy as we were up at 5.30am the next morning in an effort to be the first at Lake Wabby.

The walk to Lake Wabby makes it even more intriguing. It takes about thirty minutes to walk through the woods to the lake, coming up to each bend I was hoping I was going to catch a glimpse of this mysterious lake hidden away in the depths of the island but oh no each turn in the path leaves you guessing as to what it's going to look like. In the end there is no notice, I quite literally came upon it. The trees cleared suddenly and there it was smack in front of me. I was walking on my own at this point and James had got there ahead of me and was in the water. It was a breath-taking sight. To my right was a massive sand dune down which a couple of our group were barrelling and then there's Wabby not very wide surrounded on all sides by a forest. Not a very big lake but the deepest on the island at 11 metres. Lake Wabby in fact won't be there in two years because of the encroaching sand dune. I've since seen an aerial photo and the dune is massive. It's quite literally a large wall of sand right up to the lakes edge. I couldn't help have another 'moment' where I felt so blessed to have visited this place and seen it in all its' glory.

Onwards to Lake McKenzie! I know it may seem all we did is drive from lake to lake or to creek and so on and that is because that is quite literally how you spend your days on Fraser. The lakes are the main sights because they are so spectacular. I for one have never seen lakes like them. Plus if you get a few steamy days like we did all we wanted was to be in the water. We spent the three days covered in sand dying to reach the next lake to jump in and cool off. It was a pretty great way to spend a few days. We were really lucky with the weather I guess it can make or break it.

Lake McKenzie is reputedly the most beautiful lake on the island and probably the most visited. We got there early enough certainly before the main crowds arrived and they did come in droves towards lunch time just as we were leaving it was getting pretty packed. It is a beautiful spot no doubts about it but just alot more people. James and I had Santa hats which we donned for a few pictures in this tropical setting. All of us in the group were from the Northern hemisphere and so finding the warm weather a little strange so close to Christmas. I couldn't believe it was the 16th of December. Normally this time of year I'm stressed up to my eyeballs in a busy pharmacy and wondering who's presents I yet have to get. It was bliss to be sitting on an island with my bum on the warm sand and my legs in the water just enjoying the view. We all kinda sat there on the shore line just taking it all, everyone discussing their various plans for the future. Everyone with one thing in common not wanting to go home and wanting to prolong living this beachy life for as long as possible. There we were on a Tuesday morning about 11am bobbing in the tropical blue waters of Lake McKenzie looking at the white sands and green forest backdrop and laughing at the brilliance of it all!

However James and I had nothing to complain about our next stop was the Whitsunday Islands. Before leaving Fraser we had a final barbie. We were joined by a rather large cheeky iguana who was not taking no for an answer. Stacey provided the entertainment en route to the ferry point. She consumed the last of our goon at lunch and then proceeded to giggle and hiccup her way along the bouncy roads back before falling asleep on the ferry.

We arrived back pretty pleased with how everything had gone, all quite tired and seriously in need of showers! We had a farewell meal and drinks that night back in the hostel before saying our goodbyes.

Digging holes to fill them in

2009-04-08T14:55:00.004+08:00

Settling In

April 10th 2009

It's been ridiculously long, I know. It takes patience, dedication and commitment to keep a blog up to date and interesting. These qualities I clearly possess in abundance. Instead of trawling through events since before Christmas, I'm just going to skip ahead to do a recap of February to date - or more specifically from when we finally arrived back in Sydney to settle down for a few months.

Coming from the south and Canberra we arrived back in early February full of notions about new jobs and apartments and getting into the groove of a thoroughly cosmopolitan and independent lifestyle in Australia's premier metropolis. Then we spent four weeks on an air mattress in Colin's living room in Dee Why. This was much appreciated of course, and we had some great laughs, but when we finally got ourselves together and moved out it felt damn good. We spent our time job hunting, swimming and lazing on Dee Why beach and frequenting Manly's public houses on occasion to partake in a tipple or two. A few trips were organised up to the Kiwi's and Lill and Phil's in Bondi too.

I drove Sarah around the Northern Beaches to about 50 pharmacies until after about two weeks one took the bait and offered her a job. We celebrated that one I can tell you. With the pressure somewhat off me I began the hunt for somewhere to call home for a few months. Manly seemed like a great option for us, we liked it from the moment we got here.

Eventually we stumbled across a stunning apartment on Addington Road and moved in with, wait for it, five other Irish girls. Fake tan, GHD, VIP, Hello, Barry's Tea heaven. I'm soooo in touch with my femininity I just cant quite find the words to describe it, you know what I mean like...awwww go on you know what I mean like, don't you like??? The clincher was the Dawsons Creek box set. All 52 or so series of heartwarming, tear jerking, gooily sound-tracked tripe-ology for me to desperately avert my eyes from.

Sarcasm? Naaaaa.

In fairness the girls are a great laugh and tremendous company (when Dawson's not in the room). The views from our balcony are stunning and take in a sweeping vista of the North Heads to the left, the city centre in the foreground, and Manly Wharf to the right. We can watch the ferries chug out from the Wharf toward the CBD from our bedroom. Sunset is a special experience. Its an amazing location with 5 beaches and the town centre on our doorstep.

"Union? It's all about league mate"

After about 4 weeks of banging my head off a recruitment wall, one conversation at rugby training turned into a labouring job that I have been stuck into since. I should mention the rugby actually - out for a run along Dee Why one evening I passed an ad looking for players under 85 kilo's to play for a local team - the Dee Why Lions. So off I went to training, and havn't looked back since. It's fast and furious and all down to speed and skill, not the width of your neck and biceps. While the former two characteristics I cannot proclaim to possess in any form of abundance, the latter are almost non-existent unfortunately. So playing with lads the same size as me seemed like a sensible option!

We spent the first few weeks running around after a demonic little ferret of a fitness coach, Tommy. One session consisted of carrying electricity pylons around the pitch over our heads in between bouts of circuit training. It didn't take long to get up to a reasonable level of fitness. We played against the New Zealand Barbarians on the day after Paddy's Day and came a glorious and deserved second. It was a great experience to play against the best New Zealand has to offer. I had a hard time with basic movement in my legs and shoulders for a day or two after though, haha.

The art of shovel leaning

As a prelude to any kind of description of my current employment, I think a brief foray into the history of economic thought is in order.

Seriously.

The 17th century English economist (I can hear you snoring - wake up! I promise this will go somewhere) William Petty was so obsessed with the notion of full employment that he quite soberly put forward the suggestion that Stonehenge be relocated across the Salisbury Plains in order to create a few hundred regular wage packets. He also advocated the burning of produce to ensure idle hands be kept busy and stimulate the economy. Thank you William Petty. Without you I fear I would still languish amongst the masses of unemployed backpackers in North Sydney.

Myself and my fellow grunts will arrive bright and early at one of the three sea-side mansions in Mosman the builder I currently work for is constructing. Brows will furrow and a concerted examination of site plans will take place. This is followed by the utterance of expletives and curses at anyone who has worked on the site (not presently in ear shot of course) from the foreman. He will then sigh, and offer his instructions for us for the day. A typical example will be "move that ten tonnes of sand down the back there up to the front here. We're too stingy /incompetent to hire an earth mover for an hour or two so would you shovel it into buckets and walk it up here? Cheers".

Off we go delighted to have something stimulating to fill the day with, and chat about the global recession, the NRL, economic theory, Ancient Greek philosophy, and of course, titties.

"Smoko" rolls around at 9.30am for half an hour, then back to the shovels for another three hours before lunch. Around and hour before knocking off time (which is 3.30pm) the foreman will come bumbling out of his 'office' cursing the 'facking architect' while spilling coffee into his bellybutton in his rush to get to one of us. It will transpire, as it always does, that the architect is directly related to the devil himself and has decided that "all that sand actually needed to stay down there where it facking was to fill a hole you have to dig out tomorrow that the facking architect will decide the following day didn't need to be dugatall damnitall!!". We shrug, laugh inwardly, and secure another day or two of work.

So yes, life on the Northern Beaches is indeed sweet. A typical weekend consists of hitting the Sailing Club/Wharf Bar for a few bevvies, a bbq on the beach, a spot of snorkeling. Its tough. I will lean on the shovel for 3 or four days during the week, train with the Lions on Mondays and Wednesdays and go with Sarah to athletics training once or twice a week too. (We signed up for the Sydney Half Marathon in May).

Next time I'll make an effort to fill the gap between the last post and this, and tell you all about our Hunter Valley adventures from last weekend.

J

Sunshine Coast - Road Trip Part Two!

2009-02-19T18:45:00.004+08:00

Our trip out of Brisbane brought us along the Sunshine Coast, we had heard good things about this stretch of coastline but before we got that far we had one or two things to tick off the list first.

We headed towards the Glass House Mountains. These are about five large mountains that rise up from what is a rather flat surrounding landscape. It's as a result of erosion from millions of years ago where the surrounding countryside was once higher but got whittled away while the hard rock of these mountains remained. The result is an unusal landscape with beautiful scenery. We climbed one of them that first day out of Brisbane. It's called Ngungen, it was only a short climb but when we reached the summit the views were fantastic and so we stayed there awhile taking it in and enjoying the breeze!

We camped in Caloundra that night just behind Dickie Beach. The beach is named after the ship that ran aground there, the wreck is still on the shore which is pretty cool. It's a beautiful little place. We were up pretty early the next morning, about 7am and as we were walking over to the beach I was rubbing the sleep out of my eyes thinking we'd have the beach all to ourselves. Silly me! It was still holiday season here so all the families were out in force. There's no better way to wake up in morning than having a small wave crash over your head!

We visited Australia Zoo that morning, the famous one run by the late Steve Irwin. His father originally set up the zoo. His father was in fact and still is the original crocodile hunter! It costs about 50 bucks to get in but well worth it. It was very like the Lone Pines Koala Sanctuary except for the crocaseum! This is where they hold the croc show, which in itself is worth the entrance fee! The show is not just about crocodiles though, they bring all manner of animals into the arena for display and even have a few staff members bravely wander about with snakes etc throughout the crowd! They lure the giant crocodile up a few feet into the air by dangling meat above the water! The poor guy who has this job said half-way through the show 'If I appear nervous it's because I am!'

They had a big bird show too, where a massive Jindabye bird flew clumsily into the arena, as well as many colourful parrots and lorikeets - it was super! The rest of the zoo is quite interactive, you can wander amongst the kangaroos. They have an African section too with lots of elephants and tigers. It' a fabulous place and very much orientated at educating about the animals.

We drove to Noosa that evening and camped near Peregian Beach where we had a quick dip before dinner. Being able to have a swim at least once a day is divine. The weather on this stretch of coast is particularly stifling and with no air-con. in the car it can be a bit unbearable at times. So being able to pull into a beach and jump in the water for a cool down is pretty sweet.

The following day we decided to catch a ferry across to the Great Sandy National Park, of which Fraser Island is a part of. The section we travelled across to is a separate island. As it is national park the whole island is a nature reserve and so wildlife was abundant. We caught our first glimpse of kangaroos in the wild that evening. We arrived and pitched the tent and were strolling over to the swimming pool when right in front of us were three male kangaroos, having heard us the three of them turned their heads to have a look at us. Once they were satisfied that we were no harm they kept munching away on the grass beside the pool. It was brilliant just to see them like that.

That night we woke to a noise outside our tent and when we peered out to see what it was, there was a few more kangaroos gathered around having a feed. They tend to feed in the evenings/ night times. We had an encounter with a cheeky Kookaburra that evening when we were eating too, it kept landing on James's shoulder when we he was eating, and flying towards my face, it was ridiculous! Anyway having had our fill with Australian wildlife we caught the ferry back to the mainland the following morning and headed north to Hervey Bay.

Brisbane, Queensland - State no. 2!

2009-02-09T09:52:00.007+08:00

We arrived in Brisbane the last weekend in November. Our first port of call was Carmel and Paraic's house in the suburb of Birkdale. They very kindly put us up. After alot of camping a real bed and a few home comforts were bliss!

The first afternoon we arrived they were having a BBQ with a group of friends so we settled in fairly quickly, glad of the social interaction! We strolled up to Wellington Point with Carmel that evening and caught a beautiful sunset. They live about an hour from the city centre but it was great for us to visit a few things on the outskirts before heading into the CBD a few days later.

I have to admit we became a little lazy having such a comfortable place to stay and Carmel's cooking meant I had to pull J away. Me too if I'm to be really honest. She was hostess of the mostess!

At this point the deadline for buying and posting Christmas presents was looming so we did some much needed shopping and wrapping the next day much to Jim's delight . It was strange doing all that kind of thing when the sun is shining, I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing Christmas decorations up when the sun is shining, and shopping in air-conditioned shopping centres for presents - bizarre.

We ventured back down the freeway one of the days to a water park. The weather had been stifling so we couldn't think of a better way to spend our day. It was great, I think the last time I had been to one of them was when I was fifteen. We were like two big kids for the day lining up for every single ride. It was great fun.

Another day we headed in towards the city to a spot called Lone Pines Koala Sanctuary. We hadn't seen any native wildlife yet, bar some roadkill. We had even been driving in fear of hitting a 'roo! Koala Pines was like the best zoo ever! We strolled around and saw all the weird and wonderful wildlife Australia has to offer. Wombats, koalas, kangaroo's, dingoes, crocodiles, lorikeets and more. The fact they are all so different to what we know make them so much more interesting to visit and watch. I got the opportunity to hold a koala, they are just as soft and cuddly as you imagine. I wanted to squeeze it but was mindful of the fact it's very large claw were gripping my skin! Australia has a huge variety of parrots, they are probably the one animal we've come across the most. We left Lone Pines to the goodbyes being squawked by the parrots near the exit, it was hilarious. Before heading home that evening we drove up Mt Cootha to a lookout point over the city which was fantastic.

That week amongst other things we visited the Sir Thomas Brisbane Planetarium where we watched a 40 minute programme called 'Passport to the Universe', it was brilliant. It was in a dome shaped room, so when we lay back in our chairs the whole universe enveloped us! We also checked out Queen St Mall in the city, the main pedestrianised street, it was all very Christmassy yet roasting hot!

We also stayed with Dane (a native Queenslander, who James met in Copenhagen a few years ago) in Red Hills near the city centre. Our sight-seeing with him consisted mainly of the pub variety. Great guy, and it was nice to meet Aussies for a change!

We headed back out to Carmel and Paraic's again for a tropical themed house-warming with a bunch of paddies before finally extracting ourselves from their lovely home and hitting the road again.

Road Trip Part One - finished!

2009-02-02T18:04:00.009+08:00

The next morning after a quick dip in Hallidays happy pool we hit the road again heading north towards a small town called South West Rocks. En route we stopped in Frederickton for a few pies in Fredo's Pies, a pretty infamous pie place with a large Marilyn Monroe statue on top of a pole, what that has to do with pies is beyond me, but it certainly catches the truckers attention. We arrived to a very bustly pie shop and sufficiently stuffed ourselves before continuing on our way.

South West Rocks is a beautiful little village nestled right on the coastline. The caravan park we stayed in was great called Horseshoe Caravan Park and like its' namesake it swung right around an enclosed beach, and the views out over the ocean were fantastic. We visited nearby Trial Bay Gaol. During World War 2 anyone whose nationality was German or one of its' allies that lived in Australia was imprisoned. This gaol we visited imprisoned the upper class of such people. Many were teachers, poets, writers, and they were allowed alot of freedom. This even involved beach-time included as part of their daily routine at one point! It was an interesting place.

We drove over to Smoky Cape to see the lighthouse and the views from Captain Cooks lookout, both spectacular. That night the weather turned on us again, so after dinner in the tent we escaped to a nearby bar for a drink and to check out the craic in the town. Not much to be had, another bar filled with pokies and a few labourers still in work clothes sitting at the bar.

The following day much to our shock it was still raining! I know we will get zero sympathy from our readers on this one, but camping in the rain is no fun. So on arriving in Coffs Harbour later that day we checked into a hostel!! Non-stop rain in Coffs meant we sheltered in the cinema for the night and saw the epic Australia which I loved. A quick trip to the Big Banana to see what all the fuss is about and then home to a nice warm, dry leaba!

This Big Banana is what put Coffs Harbour on the map. In 1964 it was erected and started the Big Things craze in Oz. Some coastal towns erected something in their town to attract the tourists. So Ballina has a giant prawn, Coffs a big banana, I think there's a big buffalo somewhere and so on. It's pretty ridiculous looking and even though we thought it was stupid we still went to see it. It wasn't as big as we thought it would be!

The rain pushed us out of Coffs Harbour early the next day onwards to Byron Bay. This hippy town was just the ticket after days of crappy weather, we rolled into town to find the sun shining and that our campsite was right behind the beach. Clarkes beach was massive so we chilled out there for the afternoon. I actually got into the ocean for the first time since arriving in Australia. I know that may seem crazy but the ocean baths had been sufficient till then, and unwilling to lose a limb to a Great White or any other variety of those menacing creatures I chose not to dip my fat little toes into the sea till that point. For some reason I felt the water looked ok in Byron Bay?!! So in I went, bodyboard in tow and the water was divine. We cooked up a storm that evening, consumed a delicious bottle of wine and headed into town.

'Schoolies' were on tour this week, so the town was taken over with teenagers running riot after finishing school and majority of them turning eighteen. There was a queue into one pub whilst the bouncers checked ID, they practically plucked J and I out from the line as we were about a foot taller than most around us. Getting in the spirit of things we had a few there before heading up the street to the Beach Front Hotel bar for a few more. There was a good atmosphere in Byron, partly down to all the schoolie chaos but in general the town has a lovely vibe.

The next day was very much a repeat of the day before, beach, food, wine, more food, some more wine, bed. I really, really liked Byron and I hope we get back there. However I since found out that someone was taken by a Great White in Byron last July!!!!! Clearly my ability to sense whether the water is ok leaves alot to be desired........

Road Trip 1..continued

2009-01-15T20:06:00.010+08:00

Never before have I witnessed such calculatedly slick selling of alcohol as I have in Oz. You don't even have to get out of your car to pick up a 6-pack of Tooheys New, or a tasty 7 dollar bottle of Eaglehawk, oh no. Just point the nose of your Holden towards the nearest drive through 'bottle shop', make the big effort to peel down your window, roar the order at whatever unfortunate happens to be staffing the drive counter and watch them scurry off up a ladder/do backflips to the fridge and grab your hootch. Service.

If you do dare a foray out of your vehicle via a momentary scorch from the sun to a walk in variety of bottler, then you are in for a treat. Picture a cash and carry run by Eamonn Dunphy, imagine what Willy Wonka's factory would have looked like had he been a lovechild of Arthur Guinness...well dream no more and open thine eyes mi amigo (cue angelic singing and harps a-ringing) ...and marvel.

Ok I'm getting carried away..I'm just amazed at the scale, branding, level of advertisement, cheapness and general profligacy of booze out here, its ridiculous and I wanted to throw it out there.

Now to the point - after leaving Denman in the rain the last thing on our minds was drink. We hit the road toward the coast and after a few hours decided on checking out Newcastle. Like its Geordie namesake it's a big uncompromising industrial hub populated by lots of white people with bad teeth. Huge tankers puff in and out of the docklands laden down with coal from the surrounding mines. In fact it's the biggest coal export harbour in the world, and my is it not pretty. The place was deserted on a Thursday evening at about 8pm, so that boded well for our plans of a quiet few nights. We stayed in the Backpackers by the Beach, again empty, and spent the first night between an excellent Hare Chrishna restaurant called Govinda's and the cinema. Rock and tofu Roll.

We got up early the next morning and walked out to the lighthouse at the end of Newcastle Beach before going for a run along the coast southwards past Mereweather Beach. The afternoon was spent in the city catching up on Christmas shopping along the Hunter Mall. We cooked in the hostel and went to the cinema for the second night in a row to see the new Bond.

Saying a less than tearful farewell to Newcastle we made our way up the coast road past the rolling dunes of Stockton Bight towards Port Stephens. Past Anna Bay and One Mile Beach and into Nelsons Bay proper the only thing that caught my interest in terms of land based activity in the area was eating pies. Red Ned's have won the NSW Pie Competition more times than...well more times than any other pie shop in town. I had a kangaroo terriyaki followed by a prawn and lobster and both in fairness, were delicious. I had wanted to pick up a body board so managed to get my hands on one in nearby Salamander Bay before we camped up for the night in Shoal Bay, a sleepy little gathering on a picturesque headland a couple of kilometres from Nelsons Bay. After a quick jog up through Tomaree National Park around a few WWII gun emplacements and back down onto Zenith Beach, we came to our senses and bought some red wine to wash down our red meat dindins.

The sun shone for us the next morning, so we engaged in some ''skin trauma" (as the Australian Health Promotion Board ever so sweetly term sun bathing) on Shoal Bay beach, a beautifully secluded spot for a post brekky swim. Then on to One Mile Beach where I jumped straight into the surf and got pounded around for about an hour on my body board. The waves were up to about 5 feet and pretty powerful, I loved it!

The next morning we got up early, hit the beach again for a few hours and then made our way towards Myall National Park. When we arrived in Bungadelah we stocked up on food and called into the information centre to grab some maps and made our way out along the coast towards Seal Rocks and Treachery Camp. A guy in the hostel in Newcastle had recommended Treachery as a the most beautiful spot along this part of the east coast, so we weren't going to miss it.

The camp itslelf is a couple of miles out along a dirt road and is in a bush setting. Its incredibly secluded, and nestles in a belt of swaying eucalyptus trees behind a series of huge sand dunes. We set ourselves up and took a walk on the beach to watch the sunset over a bottle of wine.

Up early again, the weather had turned on us and we made our way up to Sugar Loaf Point Lighthouse to take in the views before driving through Palm Springs (shaking our fists at the weather because the beaches looked so beautiful) and along the Lakes Way through the rest of the park. We arrived in Forster for lunch and ran into the Boxfish Cafe for shelter from the rain and some pumpkin soup. The caravan park right on the breakwater looked good so we checked in their and spent the afternoon catching up on emails in the local Bowling Club. In no mood to cook and fairly miserable with all the wet, we grabbed some fish and chips for dinner and called it an early night - not much to get up to in town without the sun!..

..which appeared for us again on the following morning. The moods shifted fairly rapidly and we walked out to One Mile Beach and back, stopping in the ocean baths at Forster to cool off afterwards. In the town we bought a few supplies, had lunch down by the waterfront and drove back to the beach for some body board action again. That night we stumbled across Happy Halliday's camping ground, a lovely caravan park populated by lorikeets, and chilled out there for the evening.

Road Trip Part One!

2009-01-14T07:56:00.005+08:00

Blue Mountains National Park

Our first port of call leaving Manly was the Blue mountains National Park, so called because of the dew from the Eucalyptus trees. That morning before we left we bought all the necessary supplies to make us self-sufficient for the next month or two, namely a tent, stove and a pot, sorted! I felt so excited to be back on the road. Funny how when you're travelling for awhile you look forward to settling somewhere for more than two nights, but after ten days in Sydney I was itching to get moving again. We both drove out of the city with massive grins on our faces absolutely delighted to be off exploring again. It was late afternoon before we arrived in the Blue Mountains area so at that point it was a case of grab some info and camp up for the night. We settled in a campsite in Blackheath, cooked up a storm and drank wine as the sun set. We were ill-prepared for how cold it would get in the mountains, still used to being constantly hot so it was a strange concept to realise that the temperature was dropping and we were flippin freezing! Pulling any warm clothes (which wasn't much) from our backpacks we shivered our way through the first night camping experience.

The surrounding bird life noisily woke us the following morning and we emerged from our tent with sun shining once again. A pattern emerged over the following days whereby we fell asleep early and were up at the crack of dawn to get most out of our days. The bird life in Australia deserves a mention here, not something you hear much about but certainly something J and I encountered a lot over the following weeks. The birds are a lot more exotic than I expected. I suppose I hadn't thought about it much but here more than anywhere else we've been they have been the most colourful, the noisiest and the most prolific! They are truly incredible and proved to be a great source of amusement for the two of us ( I fear we're turning into my Dad, ha!). From trying to land on our shoulders when we eat, to one shitting on me as we took down our tent one morning to being our regular alarm clock, they have been very entertaining. The lorikeets in particular are fantastic!

The Blue Mountains N.P. is absolutely beautiful. It's hard to believe it's only a stones throw from Sydney. We took the National Pass trail to Wentworth Falls the first day and the Under cliff trail back, and the views were breath-taking. I'm pushed to find words to describe the scenery. The weather was super hot during the day as we huffed and puffed our way along these rocky trails. We drove to Sublime Point in Leura for lunch, where we had a picnic over the look-out. We also managed to squeeze in a visit to the (infamous) Three Sisters rock formation at Echo Point. This is definitely the more touristy part to the Blue Mountains area but the view is spectacular. At certain points on the various trails we did, through a clearing in the trees was the most fantastic views of the surrounding mountains and valleys. The cliff top trails lend the most dizzying views of the valleys below and the huge mountains that roll on forever. At the lookout points like at the Three Sisters there is a panoramic view as far as the eye can see, truly amazing. We headed back to camp that evening for much of the same but with extra blankets in tow this time!

The following morning our "new"car didn't start! In total disbelief we rang the tow company. The morning however wasn't wasted as we headed off on a walk to nearby Govett's Leap lookout. After spending the twenty minute walk placing every hex and curse on the Sydney Car King we arrived at what is my favourite spot in the Blue Mountains. The view from Govett's Leap lookout is crazy, it is almost surreal. Sheer cliff edges dropping into the vast green forested valley below. We decided we'd have time to do a short trail and set off along the path that is Brides Veil Trail, it takes you to a waterfall lookout point. Every step is a photo opportunity. We navigated our way down the tricky steps, huffing, puffing and sweating when a bouncy blond caming jogging up towards us saying "G'day! Great day for it eh?!" Indeed. After getting a few snaps of the fantastic views near the waterfall we headed back and did the Fairfax Heritage trail nearby for good measure.

By this time we got a phone call and our two guy was waiting on us, nice change eh. Luckily it turns out Holden had not given up on us, but because it was parked on a hill, and had less than a quarter tank of fuel, the gauge wasn't registering this and so it wouldn't start. Who'd have known!? Certainly not us! It turns out Holden was to teach us both alot about cars (and what can go wrong) over the coming weeks! Anyway our tow guy who owned a Holden and like most of Aussie blokes seemed to know everything about cars took us to the petrol station and we were mobile once again! Wuhoo!

We drove back to Sublime Point that afternoon for lunch with a view again before pitching our tent that evening in Katoomba Caravan Park. Katoomba is the main access point for the Three Sisters. We tackled the Giant Stairway down from the Three Sisters to the valley floor which consists of 500 steps in total. The view is super going down and eventually you land on the valley floor where it is oh so quiet. All you can hear are strange noises (presumably birds?) and when you look up all you can see is the tree canopy above. I found it a little eerie, James loved it. We strolled for awhile along Dardanelles Pass to Leura's Forest before I became convinced some poisonous, large man-eating creature yet unknown in Australia was going to emerge from the dense forest and swallow me. I prefer the cliff-top walks put it that way. After dinner that evening we came back to see the Three Sisters lit up at night. We pretty much had the place to ourselves so it was very cool.

The following day we took a few different trails including Vaniman's Lookout, Juliets Balcony lookout and down past Witches Leap waterfall near Katoomba. I really enjoyed getting up every morning and heading off for the day doing various walks here and there. Each place gives a different vantage point of the Blue Mountains surrounding scenery. On this particular morning we caught glimpses of Katoomba Falls through breaks in the trees above. Ok I know I'm repeating myself but it really was fantastic to be exploring every day and coming across the most beautiful views. It was pretty quiet too, so we had alot of the trails to ourselves. The cliff side track at Govett's Leap was a 6km round trip but it was so hot and there was so many steps that it ended up being the death of us that day. So we took the pleasure of exploring Leura village for a change which is a quirky little mountainous town with a permanent Christmas store and a few other funky shops and cafes. We went to the Edge cinema that evening for a documentary on the Wollemi Pines. The discovery of these trees a testament to just how remote certain parts of the Blue Mountains are - they were thought to have been extinct for 100 million years before a group of bush walkers stumbled across them in 1994. So much of the area is classified as wilderness as opposed to national park because there is so much left to be surveyed properly. It is just so vast. The cinema has a six storey screen so it was incredible to watch such a documentary there.

Mudgee

We took a quick spin to the highest point at One Tree Hill - 3645feet, before leaving the Blue Mountains area and heading north to Mudgee. Mudgee is a wine region quite near the Hunter Valley area, we found it on the map whilst driving and took a chance. It turned out to be a great two days stopover. Pretty unhealthy however what with wine in abundance! We took a spin around when we first arrived and popped into one or two of the wineries. We bought in Di Lusso winery before heading back and hitting the drive-thru bottlemart just for the hell of it! We strolled into the town to sample the local 'nightlife' and ended up having a few drinks in the Waratah Hotel while watching England V NZ in rugby league (NZ won). The bars here aren't quite the same here and I have to say we both miss the pubs at home. All the pokies and gambling in the pubs means they lack atmosphere, zero craic!

The following day we hired bikes so that we could visit the wineries and sample the produce freely! We hit three in total, as the day progressed we became slower cycling around! The first place called Elliott Rock was great we chatted with the girl there while we sampled every single type of wine they produced, 11 in total I think. I know we're complete amateurs! Saddle bags loaded with a few bottles we left there and clinked our way towards Oatley where we wined and dined before collecting a few more bottles and heading on towards Blue Wren winery. By that point we were both a bit giggly and our daily budget gone out the window so we wisely decided to head home. It was a great day though. I 've never done that before. It was so much fun just peddling around through beautiful countryside pulling into whatever winery took our fancy. I've had worse Sunday afternoons!

Denman

Denman was our next port of call after Mudgee. It was not planned, we kind of arrived into the town late and decided we'd better set up camp before it got dark! It turned out to be a hilarious night. Denman is a one horse town (literally, we drove past one horse on the way in!) I'll never forget that horse actually, it was the most beautiful white stallion whose head followed our car as we drove past! Weird. We pitched up near a French couple who we were cycling around Australia with their 3 year old child - typical Frenchies! We being typical Irish popped the cork on one of our Mudgee purchases before heading into 'town'! Now there are only two pubs/ hotel bars in the town - the Denman Hotel and the Royal Hotel. They are about one hundred yards apart across a crossroads (ie the town centre). When you're in bar they ask you "Were you down in the downer?" and the other asks "Were you over the upper?" Both to which we replied yes! It was in fact the "upper" that we had our first encounter with Aussie locals. A couple of hairy looking biker guys came in and started ordering Jagerbombs at that bar where J and I were positioned. I laughed as one exclaimed "that'll put a gloss on your turd!" while banging his glass down on the bar and ordering more, for himself and a round for us! We naturally reciprocated and after a couple more Jagerbombs and some shite talking we established a funny connection with one of the lads. One of them had been in Ireland and in none other than Calverstown and Ballymore Eustace!!! For those of you who don't know they are small villages near Naas, and Calverstown is pretty much the Irish equivalent of Denman, hicksville. He had been there for his brothers wedding, a Denman local and a Calverstown cailin - a marriage made in heaven eh? Obviously not as it turned out they separated eight months later. We muttered "sorries" to which he replied "aw no worries mate the family got a holiday to Ireland out of it." I've said it before and I'll say it again, what a small world! So we spent the remainder of the evening playing pool with these yokels and generally having a laugh.

We awoke the next morning with very sore heads, decided to stay another night to nurse ourselves back to good health (that and the fact neither of us wanted to drive!) But we soon changed our mind that evening when the rain came and we became mortified at the prospect of bumping into the "lads" again, and so we put the foot down and got the hell out of Denman! Amen to that!

AUSTRALIA!!!!!!

2008-12-20T19:02:00.004+08:00

The flight to Darwin was uneventful. We arrived bleary eyed at about 7am local time on the 2nd of November, breezed through customs without hassle apart from a matronly looking woman - like a granmothered version of Dr. Doolittle who was very concerned about any foodstuffs being brought into the Northern Territory. I told her I had nothing to declare but the contents of my stomach, and that she'd have to kick me very hard in the nether regions for any kind of a close inspection.

We had a few hours to kill in the airport, a tiny non-descript warehouse of boredom and nothingness. I occuppied myself by perusing the morning papers which were full of excitement about the upcoming Melbourne Cup, the financial crisis of course, Rupert Murdock's series of lectures he was giving in the Opera House in Sydney, and a few great tabloid shock horror stories about killer crocs. Welcome to Australia. Dylan Moran has a fairly specific take on the place - I think its worth quoting him in full:

"It's a totally inhospitable place, you shouldn't be here, the sun, you live about three quarters of a mile from it, I've seen insects walking around with kneepads, you fling yourselves into the sea when you're not actually walking around audibly crackling in the heat and the sea is full of things designed exclusively to kill you, sharks, jellyfish, swimming knives, they're all there. But yet you persist in living here. So you know, its a jail, you live in, it's lovely, you've done wonderful things with it, but you're all still in denial"

The first time I heard that I actually really wanted to come here. When you grow up in a place where the only really exciting wild animals were reputedly exiled by your patron saint, you sort of begin to crave a bit of exoticism don't you? Crocodiles the size of milk vans, big great whites lurking in the bays, redback spiders hiding in your shoes waiting to venomise you, the top three most dangerous snakes in the world - all in one country - one continent for Christsake!! I was delighting in winding Sarah up about all of this of course..haha.

The short hop down to Sydney was again, a dreary affair. Crap food, fake smiles, recycled air, hassle, waiting around, trying to guess the age/occupation/sexual persuasion of all your fellow passengers from their shoes and carry on luggage.

We were surprised at the gate at Sydney Airport by Jim and Lorraine - Sarah's uncle and his partner. We knew that they were coming to meet us, but hadn't expected to see them until we had our luggage collected. Jim has been in Oz since the early 80's, and it was great to have two smiling and welcoming faces to greet us and drive us into the city. Jim had very (very) kindly booked us into a hotel in the CBD and they dropped us off there.

The Menzies on Carrington St is an old but refined hotel. The lobby smells like fresh aftershave, most nights there's a live pianist in the bar, there is a gym and pool and we were placed in a position call it home for the next 6 nights courtesy of a couple I had hardly met before. I was liking Oz already.

So we settled in and wandered out into the city towards the Rocks - the now commercialised quarter of what was the sight of the initial city settlement, perched on a natural elevation and blessed with view of that spectacular harbour. It was cold, so cold in fact there was a danger that our first brandishing of dollars in anger was to be to purchase wooly jumpers! The horror! We couldn't stomach it, so walked around fresh off the 'boat' in our bermuda shorts with vacant grins. After catching our first glimpse of the Opera House we retreated to the comfort of the hotel. Later a brief ramble to the nearest bar for a drink proved a mistake - a heaving Irish bar full of leprechauns jigging around to some gobshite in a Kilkenny jersey knocking out bad Snow Patrol covers - we could easily have been anywhere at home, so we lorried our overpriced drinks and ran out pronto.

Next morning, (or mid afternoon in fairness - jetlag) we found an internet cafe and did some research on potential employment. Being suddenly surrounded by scurrying and frowning drones in suits put the fear of God in me. "Christ I have to get a job at some stage - I better get me CV together". I soon came to my senses and got the hell out of there (after sending off a few applications I must admit!).

Afterwards we got in touch with an old housemate of mine, Colin, who was living up on Dee Why Beach in the northern suburbs. We arranged to meet at Manly and caught the ferry from Circular Quay as dusk was settling on the harbour. Now I've seen some views before, but this was truly special. The great looming bridge to our left, the Opera House like a giant series of sea shells perched on the shoreline to our right.

Colin greeted us with a satisfied smile that said a lot about his experiences in the year since I had said goodbye to him and wished him luck outside our house in Raheny. He has surfed and snowboarded his way around the globe, and if you know Col, and could believe it, was even more laid back and relaxed than I had known him before! It was great to see him and we grabbed some food and a few pints in the Manly Boatshed over a few games of pool before catching the last ferry back to the city. It felt fantastic to see the harbour at night - the glassy water reflecting the city lights, the excitement of our year to come. New city, new jobs, new friends, new life.

Up late again the following morning and I made some use of the hotel gym before heading out and catching a bus to Bondi Beach. It was Melbourne Cup day and we sidled into a bar on the beach front to watch 'Viewed' win the race. We had planned to do the 10k coastal walk south along the cliffs to Coogee Beach and set off in mid afternoon. We were impressed by the suburbs en route, and the beaches with surf clubs, some dating from the early 1900's reassured us of a well established culture of beach bum-dom!! Through the Waverly Cemetary - a stark visual reminder of the sheer amount of Irish who have passed through and along (and indeed on) in the city.

After about 2 hours we reached Coogee. The wind had picked up from a bluster to a toupee remover, so we hopped a bus back to the CBD.

Over the following days we explored a bit more taking in a tour of the Opera House, a good stroll around the magnificent botanical gardens that lie just adjacent to it and pints in the only 'real' pub we could find in the city (Harts in The Rocks). The Australain Hotel around the corner from this place definitely deserves a mention - great pub grub and a huge selection of bottled and draft beers. Sarah was getting back into her wine with gusto - it had been nigh impossible to find decent (reasonably priced) wine in SE Asia and she was suffering withdrawal! Darling Harbour,lined with bars and restaraunts also got a visit, as did the Museum of Contemporary Art on the harbour front. We did a fair bit of walking along the parallel George and Pitt streets that bisect the CBD too to get a feel for the place.

Jim had agreed to give us a hand in buying a car for our impending road trip - its damn difficult to pick up a car without a car in the first place! In one morning, after plenty of research, we called into your stereotypical dodgy second hand car salesman ('Sydney Car King' - be warned future backpackers he's slippery as a very slippy eel) and bought that quintessential of Ozzy road trip vehicles - a hulking white '95 Holden Commodore. Its big enough to sleep in, if it ever comes to it!

We had checked out of the luxury accommodation, loaded the car and drove the 40km through the city to Manly where we stayed in a kip of a hostel (Manly Beach Backpackers) for a few days. Back to earth with a bang!! Manly is fairly quiet, but a beautiful spot nonetheless. I could easily live there. The main street - the 'Corso' is curbed at either end by the sea - the sprawling Manly Beach at one end, and the pier at the other. That night we caught a bus up to Dee Why for a BBQ with Colin in the apartment he shares with his sister. We watched some of the Rugby League World Cup before grabbing a lift back with some of Col's mates to Manly.

On the following afternoon, a Sunday, Jim and Lorraine picked us up from the hostel and we drove to Neutral Bay. It was Sarah's birthday, so we celebrated with a BBQ in Oaks Bar there, a spot of some history for our hosts. The beer garden is dominated by a huge oak tree. The atmosphere was great and as the sun dappled through those leaves and onto our table and we got stuck into our steaks and barramundi over a few bevvies I thought to myself, this is a bit of alright.

From there we drove to a decommissioned military base, Cobblers Beach Reserve at Middle Head. From the top of the old gun emplacements there is a great view out between the headlands and into the open ocean. Then on to Balmoral Beach, a beautiful cove that is bisected by a small headland, for a few drinks at the Bathers Pavillion. It was a great way to spend Sarah's birthday, and we both really enjoyed the company and sights. We rounded off the day ourselves with dinner in a BYO restaurant on the Corso back in Manly.

The following morning I found the saltwater pool at the end of the beach front and did a few lengths before reading on the beach for a few hours. Sarah had taken the morning ferry back into the city to get her hair cut, so I had the afternoon to myself. I wandered up the main street, grabbed some lunch and ate it on the pier end, at the quieter beach along Fairlight Walk. I strolled up the walkway from there, found a few cosy spots with benches and read again until I saw Sarah's boat chugging around the headland and into the pier. Back from her retail therapy/ makeover she was in great form and we had dinner in Cafe Brisa another 'bring your own' - (booze that is!). Colin joined us again, and we had a few farewell beers in the Boatshed and Ivanhoe's. The big road trip was to begin the following morning, and I fell asleep with that indescribable contentness that accompanies thoughts of the open road ahead.

Singapore Oct 29th - Nov 1st

2008-12-20T11:22:00.000+08:00

We flew into Singapore in the early hours of the morning. A fellow Naas head who happened to be living in Singapore had invited us to stay. The fact it was organised only days before and completely unexpected meant it was all the sweeter to arrive and have a bed in a comfy apartment for a few nights. Brian's place is in Keppel Harbour and absolutely fab, the first thing the three of us did was put on the kettle and have a cuppa - jaysus the sight of a kettle was enough to nearly bring a tear to my eye, ha!

The following morning after an excessive sleep J and I managed to extract ourselves from the comforts of home living and head out and explore the city. As we could practically jump onto the cable car going over to Sentosa from our bedroom window on the 16th floor it seemed a natural place to start. It's an exhilarating ride across the harbour, looking down on all the huge ships below is enough to make the heart flutter. Sentosa island is a touristy spot. We spent most of the afternoon there, we took a luge down towards the beaches, that was good craic for all of 20 seconds. Silosa Beach is the most noteworthy, very cool bars with four posterbeds on the beach and small pools. We managed to resist, with only three days in the city we didn't want to spend one on a beach.

We visited the aquarium which is excellent and we were like two school kids pointing out and naming all the fish we'd learned about and seen whilst diving on days before. Some of the tanks had sharks and there was actually a diver in one such tank feeding them - nutcase. A travellator carried us below an underwater tunnel with all the sharks and fish swimming above your head,very cool.

We got swept up with a group of school kids coming out of the aquarium and ended up on a bus to a dolpin show nearby. The two of us huddled up amongst all the five year olds to watch the aquatic display with amusement. We took a cable chair back up from the beach, more scary than the flippin' cable car, with our dangling legs brushing off the tree tops! From there it was onto Mount Faber by cable car to catch a view over the city and Keppel Harbour.

Singapore is a squeaky clean, super efficient city. I really liked it, the right mix of Asian and Western influences, it does have an Asian feel but far cleaner than any of the ones we had visited. We took the metro over to the Indian Quarter and strolled from there onto the Arab Quarter. We had dinner in a nice spot near the 'Gateway' which are two buldings in the CBD that look like two razor blades.

There is some very cool architecture in Singapore. It's not a bustly place though like other big cities. There weren't many people wandering about the streets, as you would expect in a big city, it did feel like something was amiss. The nightlife however was the opposite, Clarke's Quay was jampacked - I can't remember the last time I've queued for a taxi after a night out.

On Friday we followed the old Colonial Loop around the city. This took in the Merlion on the waterfront, a national symbol. We strolled past the Esplanade (cricket grounds) towards Raffles Hotel. It's a beautiful old building, but just as pretentious and over-priced as you would imagine, I felt like a frickin' hippy wandering around!

We had lunch along Boat Quay nearby, string of restaurants that hug the quayside and allow you a great view as you eat. More walking ........ brought us to Oxford street, with a detour through Fort Canning Park. Legs about to fall of we caught the metro 'home.'

Brian's luxurious spot has a 50 metre swimming pool which we splashed around in for awhile before heading out on the town - Halloween night! Brian took us to the vibrant Clarke's Quay, a very cool spot with funky, colourful buildings housing bars, restaurants and clubs. We spent the night there, even the outside parts are air-conditioned! The place was hoppin' with people. We had a drink in one bar called 'The Clinic', it had wheelchairs for chairs, and you can buy your drinks on drips which are wheeled over to you. It's a bizaare sight at first glance to see a bunch of people sitting around on hospital beds and wheelchairs drinking some sort of rocket fuel from a drip, obviously most people saw the funny side as it was almost impossible to get a seat. We did a pub crawl to a few other spots, all heaving with people and a great atmosphere.

The following morning feeling a little rough around the edges Brian brought us for the best fry up we've had in awhile. We also got one of the best views in the city from his office on the 57th floor of a skyscraper. I don't know how he gets any work done. The views over Singapore port are fantastic, ships as far as the eye can see.

We spent the afternoon at Singapores Seven's Rugby tournament on the Esplanade, tough day all round as you an imagine. Cute Asian girls were wandering around with no apparent purpose, other than to carry giant inflatable rugby balls and giant inflatable sheep?! I have a picture of two giggly boys with the aforementioned. After all that excitement it was back to Brian's to pack for AUSTRALIA!!!! Woohoo!