The Great Journey – Part Five
Christmas and New Year 2003 In Sydney
As the good weather and warm, long evenings started becoming more frequent, Sydney’s social calendar takes a decidedly outdoor turn.
One Aussie speciality is outdoor moonlight cinema in the park
http://www.stgeorge.com.au/openair/ I had two splendid picnic evenings watching classics such as "The Breakfast Club" and the surprisingly grisly "Saturday Night Fever", poignantly on the weekend after one of the Bee Gees died.
I watched several art house flicks. Of particular note was “9/11” in which eleven internationally acclaimed directors from around the globe each constructed an eleven minute nine second short film which tells a perspective of the events in New York, and also Michael Moore’s Oscar winning documentary “Bowling for Columbine”.
I was feeling particularly healthy, partly because of the Personal Trainer and Nutritionist I had engaged, but probably mostly because of the excellent weather of the Aussie summer. I also purchased a bike for trips around Centennial Park, which proved useful as I was making do without a car.
After spending three mornings a week with my trainer, I returned home to watch the addictive day time trash show, "Crossing Over with John Edward" an American psychic who claims to be able to speak to those who have passed on, and makes a very convincing and compelling television show about those contacts.
I indulged myself having a Float Tank experience. You are placed in a sensory deprivation box and lie in water which is 35% Epsom Salts and can actually sit up in the 40cm of water and still be supported by the dense water, just like in the Dead Sea. Listening to dolphin noises, you can sleep suspended in the saline water for about an hour, and it is very relaxing indeed.
Christmas
My friend’s apartment was decked out for Christmas with a real tree, lights and decorations, and we met up in the late afternoon for a quick dip in the harbour (just because we could, although the water was not warm at all!). We had all bought Secret Santa presents for each other, so our stockings were bulging with presents, and we sat round to open them and then made calls home.
My best present was a box of goodies sent all the way from London by another friend, stacked full of proper Twinings tea bags, union flag tissues and most importantly Coleman's Bread Sauce, without which Christmas is not Christmas! I particularly enjoyed reading a quirky little book called "Under the Skin" by Michel Faber, which I would recommend to you all.
At 7pm we sat down on the balcony, the table drenched with party poppers and crackers and had the most delicious Turkey with all the trimmings Christmas Lunch, made all the better watching the sun set behind the neon and lights of the city.
Boxing Day
An internationally famous institution is the Sydney-Hobart Yacht Race, which departs to cover the two day sail across some of the most treacherous seas to Tasmania around lunchtime. Since the disastrous storm decimated the boats in the late nineties, fewer boats entered this year. A rare and much needed rainstorm blighted the start this year, and I ended up soaked sitting in the car on the headland from which we had hoped to see the boats off.
New Year's Eve
On New Years we all rocked up to my friend’s beachside/harbourside apartment for a terrific party, made even more fun by an invasion of about 30 Irish people who really got things going. The fireworks were just as dramatic as they appear on television, and being the first major city to celebrate the New Year it is a great feeling to seeing the celebrations reflected on the water of the worlds most famous Harbour.
It was such a shame to contrast the ebullient display Down Under with the ghost town shots of London at midnight, with no public display at all. It is embarrassing that one of the worlds most impressive capital cities cannot get its act together to organize something to make us proud for the most important night of the year.
Waking up on the first day of 2003, we headed off to Bondi Beach for Eggs Benedict on the Promenade and watched the surfers in the waves whilst sipping our coffee. It doesn’t get much better than that.
Hunter Valley
Shortly after Christmas I ventured out of the city for the first time for the two hour drive to Hunter Valley and the wine country, with some friends from home. We rented an idyllic little prairie style house,
http://www.valleyviewcottage.com.au/ and used that as our base, hiring a driver to take us around the vineyards.
The wine is delicious, and the tasting rooms are not too commercialized so the experience is very personalized and pleasurable. I was able to sample sparkling red wine for the first time, and in the evenings enjoyed a barbeque of Kangaroo steaks to help us enjoy the day's purchases, spending the other day reading Hugo Young's excellent experiences trying to make it big in New York's journalistic circles "How to Lose Friends and Alienate People".
Back in Sydney the outdoor life continued, with the Jazz in the Park concerts. One of the things about Sydney not mentioned in the guidebooks is the enormous bats which commute from their daytime roosts in the Botanical Gardens to the suburbs at sundown. These animals must have a four or five foot wingspan and lend the place a Gotham City air as night falls.
Continuing my health kick, I visited the salt water pool
http://www.icebergs.com.au/swimming.asp
hewn out of the rocks at the side of Bondi Beach, and enjoyed swimming with a friend.
During my stay I took advantage of the excellent postal service between Sydney and London, writing many postcards and long letters, which often arrived home in less than five days! I also received a cake in the post from Florida – my mother not having forgotten my enjoyment of food parcels when I was at school!
Sis Arrives
My sister arrived in Sydney in time for my birthday in mid February, flying on Lauda Austrian Airlines via Vienna and Kuala Lumpur, the cheapest Business Class from the UK to Oz.
I celebrated my birthday at Hugo's Lounge, in King's Cross, and was able to muster about 25 people, almost half of whom were friends from England, so it felt like being at home.
We had decided to visit Hayman Island Resort in the Whitsunday Islands
www.hayman.com.au which is renowned as Australia's premier resort location. I had long wanted to visit, remembering three years back when Chris Tarrant did his Capital Breakfast Show from there for a week in baking temperatures while I was getting ready for work in a cold, dark London winter.
The minute my sister arrived in Sydney, the three month drought broke, and she was plagued with cloudy skies and rain. I was hoping that escaping north would help her enjoy some good weather and top up her tan. Sadly we were disappointed.
Hayman Island and Aborted Landing
Coming in to land at the notoriously tiny airfield at Hamilton Island, the plane juddered about and at 100 feet we emerged from the clouds to a rainy and foggy morning, the plane engines screaming and the pilot pulling up sharply as we were about to land.
It looked as if we were going to be diverted to the mainland, which would have cut a whole day off our stay and made the hotel transfer complicated. Luckily on the second approach the pilot was able to land the plane onto the river that was the runway. We walked out into a deluge.
One of the highlights of the Hayman experience is the luxury catamaran transfer from Hamilton to the resort, turning left to the pristine white yacht moored just a few yards from the plane, whilst everyone else clambers aboard tired hotel coaches in the car par to the right.
However, we were absolutely drenched by the time we got on board, and initially shunned the champagne and canapés for a hot chocolate and towels to dry off our sodden clothes.
The hour long cruise to Hayman was choppy to say the least, and I spent the time on deck getting some fresh air to ward off queasiness. I have a splendid photo of sis, swathed in towels, shooting daggers at me for suggesting the trip in the first place.
We were greeted on the dockside by the white-starch uniformed salutes of the staff, and driven in golf carts to our splendidly appointed Pool View room.
Unfortunately our luggage had suffered from the wet as well, and to cap it all one of the bottles of (luckily white) Hunter Valley wine I had packed had exploded during the journey and doused both our clothes with smelly wine. It was not a good start!
After the disappointments of the first day, the second day was brilliantly sunny and we enjoyed mucking about in the lagoon, and took advantage of the famous Hayman Pool, which is eight times the size of an Olympic pool, with a smaller octagonal freshwater pool in its centre. Great fun, although to be avoided around sunset when the drool from the endemic smooching honeymooning couples was liable to cause a health hazard!
Sadly the bad weather meant our trip to the Great Barrier Reef was not possible, and although our experience was blighted by the poor weather the place is well worth a visit as long as you go at the right time of year and check the weather forecast before you leave.
Our catamaran transfer back to the airport was a lot more fun, where sis enjoyed sitting out on the upper deck, foaming surf edging off to the horizon and Australian Flag waving in the background as she did her best Gerri Halliwell impression.
Lunch on "The World"
In my last week in Sydney I lived the high life, and had lunch with the reigning Miss Australia
http://www.santabanta.com/contestants.asp?picid=309 aboard The World, the first residential cruise ship. It was fascinating chatting about her experiences during the aborted Nigerian Miss World contest, which was rescheduled at the last minute to London, and from which she had just returned. We enjoyed relaxing on the ship, one hundred feet in the air in the middle of Circular Quay, on level with the Harbour Bridge to our left and the Opera House to our right, bathed in the midday sunshine.
The next part of my jottings will cover the trip up to Tropical North Queensland, the Dengue Fever outbreak in Cairns and my first few days in Brisbane.
Having left Sydney, I began my journey home with a stop in Cairns, enduring cyclonic weather and taking a train to a hut in the rainforest, then to Brisbane, and a trip to the zoo!
The Great Journey – Part Six
My last week in Sydney seemed to speed past as I went out most nights saying goodbye to people, and the days spent planning and booking the journey home, and tying up loose ends.
I was sad to leave my apartment at the The Eclipse building in Bondi Junction as it had become quite a home from home for me after nearly four months in residence. However the constant drone of the traffic outside my window will not be missed!
Having yet again squeezed my belongings into my ever accommodating suitcase, it was time to get back on the road again and head from Sydney to the Tropical North East of Australia, and Cairns in Queensland.
Cairns and the North
Booking myself on the domestic sector of an international flight bound for Tokyo Narita meant I benefited from the larger seats and improved service on this flight, and certainly this should be born in mind if your are booking your own journeys around Oz.
I arrived at Cairns at the back end of a Tropical Cyclone, the Southern Hemisphere equivalent of a hurricane, and the rain streamed from the heavens in a seemingly never ending, umbrella defying deluge.
My plan to take a trip out to the Coral Sea (remember those Enya lyrics?!) and dive on the Great Barrier Reef were yet again thwarted by the weather, and as there is not a great deal else to do in Cairns, I passed the time at the movies watching “Maid In Manhattan” and “Rules of Attraction”.
At a loose end one rainy evening, I was amused to read the hotel’s rather feeble instructions on how to survive a cyclone. Needless to say they did not inspire confidence!
EMERGENCY CYCLONE SURVIVAL PROTOCOL:
1. Take shelter in the strongest part of your room, eg bathroom
2. If the building starts to break up, protect yourself with mattress and blankets (!)
3. Should the above fail, we recommend you anchor yourself to strong fixtures such as water pipes (!!)
Kuranda and The Tropical Rainforest
Pressing on, I jumped on the Kuranda Scenic Railway
www.kuranda.au.com heading for my next destination, the depths of the Tropical Rainforest. Travelling through the persistent downpour of the of the dank, verdant rainforest it was poignant to remember this railway was hewn by hand over the course of four years in the 1890s. Over twenty lives were lost by Irish and Italian workmen, many of whom suffered gangrene, malaria, dysentery and even a few cases of bubonic plague!
The remoteness and inhospitable nature of the region was underlined by the fact that at the time of my visit several sub precincts of Cairns were no go areas due to an outbreak of the mosquito born Dengue Fever, which went on the infect nearly 150 people in the locality.
The train pulled me up 1000 metres to the top of the Barron Falls, impressive and in full flood at the time of my visit. I disembarked in the small tourist trap town of Kuranda, the wet now seeping up through my shoes as well as drenching my clothes and luggage.
Narrowly avoiding the small ant colony located in the boot of my taxi, I placed all my luggage on the back seat and eventually arrived at my home for the next five nights, a rainforest retreat.
Walking into the reception area I was greeted by a cavernous Balinese space, ten metre high bamboo logs set amongst sofas and dining tables, and looking out from the swim up bar over two swimming pools set amongst lush vegetation and naturalistic rocks, linked by a cascading waterfall.
I was staying in a luxury air conditioned hut on stilts, furnished in contemporary style, with open slats in the bathroom floor to let water drain out.
Everything was very cosy. The trouble was, I was not the only one to think so, and after an attack with a can (yes, a whole can!) of Raid I retreated to the bar and returned to a smorgasbord of dead wildlife on the floor of the hut. Once swept through the aforementioned slats on the bathroom floor, I felt a lot more at home!
The sun paid a visit on the second day, and I ventured out to the pool. With less than ten guests in the 50 room resort, it was like having the place to oneself. I had plenty of time to relax, write postcards and finish Michael Moore’s tabloid critique of American Society “Stupid White Men” and also Patricia Highsmith’s classic “The Talented Mr Ripley” which was much better than the film.
With so few guests in the place, we soon got to know each other, and dined together most evenings in very enjoyable company. I travelled on the SkyRail, an hour long ride suspended from a cable in a gondola above the canopy of the rainforest, with stunning views out towards the Great Barrier Reef.
It was also possible to enjoy a sunset massage under the palm trees by the pool – a great way to end the day.
Brisbane
Arriving in Brisbane after a two hour flight from Cairns on board a brand new 737-800 (with funky winglets!) I checked in to the excellent Marriott hotel on the riverbank. Setting out to explore the city on foot before night fell, I walked along the river footpath, past the many residential boats moored close to shore, and through the Botanical Gardens, across the non-wobbly Millennium style bridge to the South Bank Park.
Unlike most parks created for cultural festivals, this one had not been corrupted and diminished by subsequent development, but rather maintained and now augmented to include an arbor walk, IMAX Theatre and a preserved street from old-time Brisbane. The most remarkable feature of this complex is the artificial beach (
http://www.terragalleria.com/pacific....aust2489.html) – a landscaped Olympic sized pool, fringed by white sand looking out over the river, with the city's skyscrapers in the background.
Overall, the city reminded me of a sunny day in Bristol. However, on my return I stayed at a much less pricey hotel on the northern fringes of the city, and without access to the gardens and the river had a much less favorable impression of the place. Should you visit, the shopping mall is renowned (although my already bulging suitcase prohibited even window shopping!), the outdoor cinema, south bank arts complex and Peace Pagoda should not be missed.
Crocodile Hunter Zoo
Many of you will have watched Steve Irwin a.k.a. the Crocodile Hunter at the movies or on the Discovery Channel. His Zoo –
http://www.crocodilehunter.com.au/au...ome/index.html – is located just an hour by car north of Brisbane. The approach is through the remarkable Glass House Mountains, volcanic formations of awesome magnitude scattered like pepper pots over the landscape.
Although he does appear spontaneously about ten times a year, you can only really guarantee seeing Steve Irwin himself over the busy Easter and Christmas holidays (EDIT: sadly not possible now since his death), when he returns home. Nonetheless, I really enjoyed the two croc shows, and was amazed at how close you are able to get to these twenty five foot long prehistoric monsters.
The zoo is undergoing a massive expansion on the back of profits from movies and documentaries, with plans to introduce an “Everglades Experience” air boat ride, where visitors can feed less aggressive North American Alligators for themselves (like the ones we have in the lakes around the house in Sarasota!). Phase one is complete, and a 6,000 seat “Crocatorium” will open at the end of this year to house shows.
Apart from watching the keepers feed the crocs with weeks old rotting carcasses, I saw native Australian camels, albino kangaroos, a rare Komodo dragon, was able to stroke a koala bear, enjoyed feeding the pigs, goats and sheep in the (kiddies!) petting zoo. I even had my photo taken with a twelve foot python wrapped around my neck.
For my part the best part of the day was walking round the croc pens after 3pm, when most of the visitors depart on the free bus to Brisbane. With fewer people about, the animals came out of their muddy pools to bask in the sunshine, and behind the double fences you can get to within about two feet of these beasts, and look right into their green eyes. Incredible!
Unfortunately for my readers, I survived, and there is more of my travelogue to come!
The next part will cover my trips up to the Sunshine Coast and down to the Gold Coast, as well as my trip to the beautiful island of Bali.
This extract will cover my trips from Brisbane up to the Sunshine Coast and down to the Gold Coast, as well as my trip to the beautiful island of Bali, the first part of which was written on the plane.
The Great Journey – Part Seven
Experiencing a little turbulence as I make this entry up here at 35,000 feet. I am on a virtually empty 767 over Alice Springs, crossing the red centre of the Great Sandy Desert en route to the Indian Ocean and Bali.
The Sunshine Coast and Noosa
Noosa, just north of Brisbane, had been recommended by all who visited as somewhere I would love, and this was certainly true. Similar to St. Armand’s Circle in Sarasota, this sleepy seaside town is a Mecca for those who enjoy shopping, lunching or just lazing on a beach all day – and it suited me just fine!
After breakfasting on Eggs Benedict in a sidewalk café in Hastings Street, I set out from town, along the white sand beach on a two-hour trek though the coastal rainforest on the headland to a remote bay mentioned in my guidebook.
Along the way, whilst filling up my water bottle, I encountered three foot long lizard – and have the photos to prove it – which scuttled away into the undergrowth on seeing me.
A very hot, humid noonday sun had left me rather sweaty after my perambulation, and looking down from the Hell’s Gates viewpoint to the isolated mile long stretch of sand known as Alexandria Bay, I determined to take a dip in the surf when I got down there.
On reaching the shore, it became obvious that none of the few people entering the waves had remembered their bathing costumes that morning. Not being one to stand out in a crowd I joined in wearing only my watch, and enjoyed an extremely refreshing dip in the South Pacific Ocean.
The Gold Coast, Surfer’s Paradise
An hour to the south of Brisbane is Surfer’s Paradise, a sort of Australian equivalent to Megalouf or Torremolinos, except infested with Nikons of Japanese tourists. It had quite a nice beach, and I stayed at the centrally located and relatively inexpensive Courtyard Marriott.
Unable to afford the extortionate AUS$350/GBP175 per night price of the
www.palazzoversace.com I set off that morning to take breakfast and snoop round the only Versace hotel in the world. Located just next door to the Australian Sea World, it is marketed as the only six star hotel in Australia – a reputation which was backed up by the sumptuous breakfast buffet I enjoyed.
Centred around a pool with an artificial sandy beach attached, everything carries the Versace motif, even down to the cutlery, and is well worth a visit even if only to gawp.
Byron Bay
Onwards to Byron Bay, a renowned hippy colony surviving to this day, the place is slowly becoming more of a tourist town and may soon lose its magic. However, the townspeople’s refusal to allow multinational corporate retailers to spoil the high street means that this McDonalds free town retains a charm lost by many similar places.
The first point of interest is the brilliant white 19th Century Georgian style lighthouse
http://www.photomagic.com.au/gallery...ighthouse.html, still in use today, situated on the top of the cliffs on the overgrown headland which overlooks the Bay. It is officially the Easternmost point in the Australian mainland.
As brightly coloured hang gliders swooped on thermals overhead, I walked along the cliffside path into the foamy surf below. After a few moments I was rewarded with the rare sighting of a seven foot across manta ray, feeding about 100 feet from shore. Having pointed this out to a few other sightseers, soon a crowd formed and we were further privileged to see a pod of dolphins, about 12 all told, surfing the waves nearby and that really made my day!
I checked into the very acceptable Waves Motel
http://www.byron-bay.com/waves/index.html and spent the rest of the afternoon on the beach, this time with trunks firmly in place!
As the sun set, I walked on to the breakwater at the far end of the beach, and watch the orange sun melt behind a far off extinct volcano, the perfect end to what was my last full day in Australia.