Last two days on North Island

The main focus of Sunday Feb 24th was to get to Henderson, west of Auckland to see Sam, Dietmar and family who had left our circle in Chertsey 9 months earlier in search of a better life. I paced my long journey well and arrived within the accepted time frame at a house that immediately said 'Yes, we do have a better lifestyle'. Sam and I caught up with what was going on in each others lives, and generally chewed the fat about many things pagan. After a good meal with her family, and equally good conversation with all of them, as dusk was falling, I took to the road again for the hour drive to Matakana.

I got to Natalie's around 10.15, very tired and hot. Not long after I was cooling off with a skinny dip in the pool – liberating maybe, but mistake certainly for I got mozzie bites in places I shouldn't have!

Monday was a day for just chilling in the relaxing settings of Matakana, and taking stock of everything before leaving for Dunedin to stay with Roz the next day.

Spending so much time driving, I had plenty of time to reflect and also think about the next stage of my journey. I was now getting to the end of my holiday and had to think about the UK again. A few work related issues had been emailed to me and I was slowly beginning to be more aware of time and date, things that I hadn't had to think of at all this year. I began to think about the long haul home. I had booked budget airlines most of the way so couldnt change them at all. I had booked to have 5 days in Bangkok again, but 2 things made me feel this was not what I wanted. Firstly, the idea of facing food that made me ill did not appeal, and having a long haul flight on top of it made it worse. Secondly, Andy was not going to be in Thailand as work had taken him to Manilla for a month. Andy was at least a barrier or defense to help me find food that was OK for me. So on that drive north across the NZ landscape, I decided to see if I could bring my return from Bangkok forward so that I only had one night there. I couldnt change the NZ to Thailand flights. Luckily, the next day when I phoned the travel agents, it was possible.

Having sorted out that in my head, I began to reflect on the means by which I ear my crusts. For a while the universe had been knocking on my door telling me it was time to teach healing etc again. I am very happy with my work teaching English and don't want to stop that at all. Furthermore it is a passport to travel, I am not prepared to forego. However, my days with Patrick and Natalie had awakened that aspect of me, so maybe it is time to do something. Exactly what and when is to be sorted, but it would seem that its a skill I have and should be used. Also my conversation with Sam seemed to give me a deeper connection to the earth based spirituality that I follow. I feel, having spoken to her, that my Firedance Circle will continue perhaps opening up new avenues of thought to explore, possibly reflecting on lessons from my sojourn to The New World.

Journeys are not necessarily just a means of getting from A to B, or for pleasure. They can also reflect journeys of the spirit and soul as well as education. My experiences had been all this, and now it was time to start steering homeward.

There was one last bit of my holiday to enjoy, and on Tuesday, I returned my hire car and flew to Dunedin on the south island to stay with Roz and her parents for a week. Roz' sunny disposition and never failing support when I ran The London Reiki & SKHM Healers group was always a breath of fresh air, and all I needed was to be around her again. It would be interesting to see her on home territory this time.

The Bay Cities

I was glad to reach a more varied landscape on the outskirts of Napier, and easily navigated to Chris' house in Hastings, arriving around 5. A cuppa and a natter later, and the years began to roll back from our last meeting. Chris was determined to show me as much about the Kiwi lifestyle she could in the brief time we had together. It was refreshing to see it through her eyes as a settler rather than a local who maybe took too much for granted. She prepared a good meal of local lamb and home grown salads. When I said how much I loved lamb she asked if I would like it again the next day, and went about hauling an enormous side of lamb out of the freezer. No chance of going hungry in this household, just like the old days when our kids were at nursery together!

On Saturday, I woke around 7.20 am which rather surprised me as I have been sleeping a lot longer than that recently. As I made my way to the bathroom, Chris asked me if I had felt 'it'. 'Nope, what?' was my reply. The earthquake she explained. Well I hadn't consciously felt anything but it almost certainly was the reason I had woken earlier than usual. That area has a history of earthquakes and a later check online showed that there were several that day, but the 7.2o one was the largest at 4.8.

In 1931 Napier had a large quake that really shaped it future. Napier sits towards the southern end of Hawkes Bay, on the coast. (Hastings is a few miles further south and inland, but the 2 cities are often referred to in the same breath as The Bay Cities – well, in tourist bumpf at least. In the UK neither would merit as a city on size alone.) The beaches of Napier are long, clean and inviting. There are some deceptive rip currents, which make swimming a bit dangerous. Looking out across the sea you cant see another island or landmass. It's a case of next stop Chile. Consequently, earthquakes in Chile can produce tsunami warnings in Napier, and indeed Chris has seen one of about metre. Further up the coast in Matakana, Natalie said that Tsunami warnings were no strangers to her lifestyle, but the biggest to date hadn't even reached a metre. Here she said what went on in Japan influenced their risk too.

Back to 1931. A 7.8 earthquake destroyed Napier, and claimed 256 lives through the ensuing fires. Houses were, and still are, mainly built of wood in this area. The ship lap construction can be seen throughout the country. Although the wood used is often the native Kauri which is extremely hard, it is not magical and still burns well. The houses are generally single storey bungalows, (land is plentiful so why bother with staircases?). Most of the city was flattened and had to be rebuilt. Since there was severe economic depression, workers cam from far and wide, and within 2 years the city had been rebuilt in the current modern style, Art Deco, with some Spanish Mission and some Stripped Classical. To this day the area is internationally renowned for its 1930's architecture, and often is used as a filming location for anything of that period.

The first sightseeing Chris took me on was naturally around Napier to view the architecture and shops. We started with an over view from the top of Bluff Hill, then went into town where it was really fascinating to stand on a street corner and to feel transported to another era when looking at the buildings in any direction. Of course the fashions and cars gave the game away that we were in the 21^st century, although for one weekend a year even this changes. No trip to any town is complete without a visit to a coffee shop, and NZ again showed off its fantastic food to me. We went into Opossum World where I learnt how this creature had become a pest in NZ and there was a keen drive to eradicate it. We checked out a few shops and then, a quick walk down the Esplanade later, we were off to explore another aspect of the area.

Hastings is known s the fruit basket of NZ, and indeed on my drive there the day before, I was aware of orchard after orchard after vineyard after orchard after grove. Kiwis, apples, pears, grapes, peaches, plums, nectarines, lemons, olives, oranges, melons and apricots to name a few. We were now going to sample some of these fruits in modified form. The Filter Room ale and cider house is a brewery in the heart of an orchard and vineyard. The sun shone, a band played live music and what better way to continue exercise our jaws and catching up than over some of the local brews. The beers and ciders all met with my approval – that was a first on this trip!

When this was done we had to address the more mundane needs of shopping. Supermarkets are just that – NZ ones are smaller than UK with less choice but the fruit and veg suppliers down the road are something else. Fresh from the fields and often organic. Nothing imported from further than 10 miles away, but often lot closer.

Having done that we went to Te Mata peak, which is about 400 mtrs above sea level and gives a breath taking view across Hawkes Bay. The day was beautifully clear and we could see for miles across to Mt Ruapehu, which I had seen on my drive the previous day was covered with snow. There's a Maori tale about this peak being the body of a local chief who died while trying to win the hand of a maiden. Maori folk lore is full of such stories. There's another one that tells how Maui who is one of the most famous of the Maori gods fished up the North Island out of the sea. The hook he used is said to have become the cape at the southern end of Hawkes Bay.

That evening we dined on the most delicious roast lamb ever and drank local wines. It was such a shame I had so little time here. I could really get to like it here.

Sunday came with an early start. I took my leave of Chris at 7.30 am armed with enough packed food for the long drive that would eventually take me back to Matakana. I had arranged to have dinner with another friend and her family in West Auckland, about 6 hrs away.

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Rotorua, Taupo and Mountains

 I took my leave of Patrick on the Wednesday, as he was going to be leaving for a tour of Brazil teaching SKHM before I was due to return to Matakana, and started the drive to Rotorua. Being used to UK driving, it really surprised me how restrictive the speed limits were, and consequently how long it took to get anywhere. The drive was uneventful, and as at the time of writing this, it would seem I somehow got down there without getting any speeding tickets. The road was good quality duel carriageway most of the way, and not very busy by my standards. As I drove over the hills ringing Rotorua, my first glimpse of the town and lake told me I was looking down into the biggest volcanic crater I had ever seen. Of course Lake Taupo is much much biggger, but I hadn't yet seen it.

Finding the backpackers hostel (Spa Lodge) I had booked into was easy (I don't use satnav, cos I rarely cant find my way). The welcome and service at the hostel was impressive, and soon I was walking around town exploring what was what. One of the nice things about checking in was they had upgraded me from a single to double bedded room. As usual, I spent time just sitting at the waters edge watching life go by. This time there were helicopter landing on the jetties for sightseeing trips, not something I could afford! I wanted to tell myself that this was mindful of the Swiss Lakes, but the feeling really wasn't there, so then I focussed on Windermere, and the UK Lake District. Nope this wasn't like that either, this was Rotorua and had its own feel. I walked through a small park to get a slightly elevated view of the lake, but my feet and knee didnt want to explore more so I wandered back to the hostel, via the supermarket to fix dinner. I like hostels lots more than hotels because of the camaraderie and homeliness. I sat and talked with other 'inmates' and then went for a soak in the spa, which was over 40 degrees so I didnt stay in long, but it did soothe the feet and knee.

I slept well that night, and after a convivial breakfast in the guests kitchen drove to Kuirau Park on the outskirts of town that has a fair bit of geothermal activity. This was a public area with no charge to wander through. I parked near a children's playground, where a nearby kindergarten had taken maybe as many as 20 children out to play. All the children and staff were wearing high viz jerkins with the name of the school on them. There was no fence around the playground, and I marvelled at this display of freedom, and common sense. You would never be allowed to take kids out of a school like that in UK.

The hot springs and mud pools were fascinating. Every area was fenced and there were signs telling you to keep to the paths, which were along lines that were less likely to spontaneously become hot spots, which does happen on rare occasions. Non the less there were many orientals who didnt seem to appreciate it. I didnt see anyone become chink soup but there are stories of this happening.

After a picnic lunch, I went down to the Maori village of Ohinemutu on the shores of Lake Rotorua. This is a working village, and not one that charges admission and then puts on a display of dancing and entertainment for tourists. The architecture is all the same Tudor type of build, but instead of black timbers, they are a reddish brown colour. There was a large Marae, and when someone opened the doors, I could see it was full of ordinary chairs like any meeting hall or parish room. There was also a community centre and through the open doors I could see a class in progress where men dressed in jeans or shorts and (sometimes) singlets or T-shirts were practising their traditional dances and chants like the Haka done at the start of rugby matches. Later they moved outside to the grass by the water, which was easier to watch.

The centrepiece of the village is a lovely little church called St Faiths. Unfortunately you were not allowed to take photos inside and I popped back several times to see if it was empty, to break that rule as there was a very clever window in the side chapel. The window was plain glass, etched with a picture of Jesus. When you got far enough away from it it looked like he was walking on Lake Rotorua, as the window overlooked the lake. I later went to the souvenir shop, where I had a chat with the Maori lady running it about how they can reconcile their traditional faith with Christianity. She thought my question was surprising as she didnt have a problem that there was one God (or whatever you wanted to call it/him/her) and also to have lots of minor or demi gods and goddesses. How refreshing was this to my ears, and how like my own belief system. She said they always would off a prayer to the god of water before going fishing – why not? It takes a little time and you always want to be safe and also have a good catch, so why take chances? We talked more, and I could see how similar one earth based religion is to another. One difference I did see was that she never mentioned fire as an element.

After leaving I went along to another area of geothermal activity called Sulphur Point. I watched some wader birds in the mud but really didnt feel like wandering through more hot spots. I was still considering the conversation I had just had with the Maori, and soon went back to the hostel, via the supermarket.

NZ supermarkets are much the same as any except they are smaller and dont have half the choice we have. Imported food seems to be a little more expensive than for us, but local produce cheaper. Of course peaches and apricots are local for them, they grow all their salad crops and most veggies. Apples, pears and grapes are also local and therefore cheap. Meat seems much the same price, but lamb is far cheaper – no surprise there eh? The quality of food in NZ is way above that in the UK though, even the pre packed bags of salad taste fresh. I was disappointed with the quality of the bread though. No instore bakeries and only factory produced bread, and again not much choice. However village shops that include bakeries and butchers are common, and the lack of choice in supermarkets is what allows town and village shops to survive by offering alternatives. Fish shops are also plentiful. Many fried fish outlets will also sell fresh fish, and the NZ 'chippy' is as common place as in UK. However, nowhere is more than a few hours from the sea and the fish is extremely fresh. It doesnt go through big wholesale markets before getting to the customer. Greengrocers as we know them dont seem to exist. Instead there are road side stalls selling produce straight from the fields, some are big comprehensively stocked shops, others smallholding outlets with just a few things. Of course this works in a sparsely populated country where the largest city has only 1.5m people. You would be stuffed living in Chelsea is you had to drive out to Guildford for fresh produce in UK.

On Friday I packed up to make my way to Hastings via Taupo. My aim was to get to Hastings around 4.30pm to stay with Chris, who was one of my best buddies in the days when our kids were at kindergarten together. I was on a tight timetable this weekend, and I didn't want to miss anything. Only 30 mins down the road, between Rotorua and Taupo was my main sightseeing stop of the day, Wai O Tapu, the home of the Lady Knox Geyser, which blew every day at 10.15. I was intrigued to know how something could be so precise with its timing when much of this nature is unpredictable. The story was wonderful and explained all. In1901 the first open prison in New Zealand was established at Wai O Tapu, its object to accommodate some of the better behaved prisoners from around the jails of the Rotorua Lakes District. It was a gang of those prisoners who first discovered the clearing in which the geyser is situated and they realised that they no longer had to cut wood to make fires to boil water to wash their clothes. However when they added soap to their wash pool the geyser erupted and their smalls were distributed far and wide. Today's science explains this as being the addition of surfactants to 2 liquids of different temps being held apart only by their surface tension. The soap breaks this tension and an eruptions happens. This is used today to evoke an eruption each day at 10.15am using eco friendly surfactant especially made for this use.

The rest of the area was an amazing walk through geo active areas where water was coloured through the minerals in it to any colour of the rainbow. After 2 hours I had to leave so as to keep within my time frame, furthermore my blood sugars were low and it was lunchtime.

On the outskirts of Taupo I saw signs to Huka Falls. Chris had told me these were well worth looking at, so I did, and they were! I viewed them from 2 locations. This also meant for the 5^th time that day I bumped into a German couple from the hostel! We decided that we should exchange visiting cards as the Universe certainly thought we had things in common. I then started the drive to Hastings, which was incredible. I knew it was going to be through mountains, but I really hadnt considered what the landscape would be like. I had been warned to make sure my car was fully fueled before leaving Rotorua, but the reality that there were no petrol stations for 130 km didnt really sink in until I began to drive the mountains, hills, more mountains, a plateau and even more mountains. This was the scenery for about an hour and a half. Some times you would pass a logging station or a farmstead. there were 3 or 4 small cafes, but no other provision. The single carriageway road continued up hill and down dale, mile after mile. I saw thousands of sheep and hundreds of cattle. There were quite few other vehicles on the road but nowhere much for anyone to stop. I felt very much like I had done when I went across the Nubian Dessert from Aswan to Abu Simbel, there there had been sand followed by sand and sand and more sand. Here there were mountains ad infinitum.

I was glad to reach a more varied landscape on the outskirts of Napier, and easily navigated to Chris' house in Hastings, arriving around 5. A cuppa and a natter later, and the years began to roll back from our last meeting. Chris was determined to show me as much about the Kiwi lifestyle she could in the brief time we had together. It was refreshing to see it through her eyes as a settler rather than a local who maybe took too much for granted. She prepared a good meal of local lamb and home grown salads. When I said how much I loved lamb she asked if I would like it again the next day, and went about hauling an enormous side of lamb out of the freezer. No chance of going hungry in this household, just like the old days when our kids were at nursery together!

Chez Zeigler

I was glad to get out of the grubby Hotel Jucy in Auckland (see my review on Trip Advisor) on the Friday morning, although I would've liked another day in the city to go round the museum. I had arranged a hire car to drive an hour north to Matakana to stay with me good friends Patrick & Natalie. I had seen some photos of the views from their home but even these had not prepared me for the Wow wow wow factor. The house is perched on the end of a promontory with 3 or 4 terraced lawns of maybe an ¼ acre each going down to the river. The living rooms are on the first floor to make the most of the views and the bedrooms on the ground floor. I was housed in an adjacent cottage with its own garden of peach, apple and apricot trees. Natalie grows most of the veg they eat, and with 4 kids to home school and a business to run, that's no mean feat. Dinner was always delicious (with the possible exception of the Durian Fruit). Often there would be snapper on the menu caught within the past 24 hrs by Patrick and one or two of his boys.

It was good to be in a relaxed family atmosphere again, and just relax. The views across the river were very reminiscent of The River Dart with its width, steep wooded banks, and large expanse of mud flats when the tide went out.

On Saturday, Patrick took me to the market in Matkana with Zen and Zahn. I was amazed at how safe they were, and that they, and other kids were allowed to go off on their own. (Ages almost 6 and almost 8). I knew this would be a great day as we walked past a busker playing 'Mr Tambourine Man', a very special song for me about freedoms and living young. The market was full of good things to eat and drink. I had samples of anything going - honey wine that tasted like good mead and olives freshly taken from the trees. Some one had a stall selling spices and dukkahs that reminded me of Red in the Adelaide area. Was I biased that Red's was far better? I decided to buy an abalone patty, however, both Patrick and myself agreed that it only tasted of the lemon pepper that it had been seasoned with. Organic food seemed to be the norm. No wonder everything I had eaten in NZ tasted so good. We then went for look round Warkworth. First stop the river where there was a small rally of steam boats. I wanted a ride on one - I always do head for water and boats when given free reign. The 45 min trip was for free - great! To Patrick's surprise the boys also enjoyed the ride. These boats run on the waste oil from fish and chip shops. There are almost as many fish and chip shops in NZ as in UK! It was then back home via the ice cream parlour for a dip in the pool.

On Sunday I took myself off for a drive exploring the amazing coastline, and experiencing some 'interesting' roads - unmade ones down mountain sides!! This wasn't a matter of me going 'off piste', this was the only road if you wanted to go from one place to the next! NZ roads are nothing like the UK ones and I was surprised how long it took to go relatively small distances due to the speed limits, which to be honest are generally right for the road conditions. However if I manage not to get a speeding ticket it will be a miracle!

Natalie had invited some friends over for dinner that evening with their kids, so when I returned, the house was full and we sat down to a good feast, with excellent local wines and conversation. It must've been just what I needed as I slept long and late that night and felt really relaxed.

Our plans for the next day were that we would do our own thing until 3 ish and then meet up half an hour down the road at Waiwera thermal pools for the rest of the day.
 http://www.waiwera.co.nz/resort/history

The experience was awesome and to me the total relaxation while floating in warm water was very similar to a Ket (which is a self initiation experienced during SKHM healing), I later reflected on this and wondered if the fact that the only symbol in SKHM is the infinity and the symbol of Waiwera was also infinity had anything to do with this, not withstanding who my host was. Floating in water heated geothermally in the open air seemed to connect all elements and I felt the nature of the pentagram completely. To me the pentagram's 5 points represent the 4 elements and self. Here I was floating in water that issued from earth as did the fire to heat the water, as I looked skyward to the air, which cooled the water to an acceptable temperature. Everything seemed in balance.

Having fed spirit and soul, it was then time to feed body, and we sat in the cafe there eating and discussing various subjects. The Zeiglers went home but I stay for another hour before heading back to a welcome bed.

Tuesday was another water day. We all went up to Goat Island, a marine conservation area, to watch the fish, using snorkels. I did a bit, and felt I wanted to know more about what I was looking at, so paid my money to go in the glass bottomed boat, which was incredible, even if, before the end of the 45 min trip, I was feeling a tad green around the gills. Head down while bobbing around on the ocean is a bit like reading on a car journey – not for everyone! It was a great beach day for me.

We went back via Warkworth and had dinner in The Bridge House, which was lovely. Back home we watched Les Miz before turning in for the night.

The next morning, I took my leave for Rotorua to learn of more delights of this enchanting country.

Auckland

I arrived on the red eye flight without much sleep and went to my hotel, where I was able to slump on a sofa until my room was ready. I also killed time by going for breakfast.  I wish I could remember where i went as it was the best scrambled egg I have ever had, all soft and delicious with good granary bread.  I bought a bottle of water to take back to the room with me  -  waxing lyrical about water seems a tad OTT but that too seemed to taste cleaner and clearer than anything else I had experienced.  However, this really was an indicator of NZ food and drink  -  simply the best.

I showered and slept for a few hours when I got into my room.  Then, still tired I wandered around town and spent time people watching on the harbour, collecting tourist information leaflets by the score en route.  Auckland Harbour is far larger than Sydney, but if Sydney's shoreline was crafted and finely chiseled out of the rocks over years by Slaty Bartfast, then Auckland's shore and hinterland was created in one fell swoop by a pre incarnation of an explosives maniac, making large semicircular bays here and leaving inland craters there;  dumping the rubble anywhere to create either islands or irregular hills.

I decided to take a ferry to one of the townships on the other side of the harbour and find somewhere for dinner.  Devonport was only 10 mins across the water but from that short trip you could get a really good feel for the vastness of the harbour.  Devonport NZ is the naval base of the country. It's picturesque and relaxed, and I found an extremely good place for dinner, that added to earlier feelings that there was something special about NZ food.  The homemade lemonade was possibly the best I have tasted. I got  the 20.30 ferry back to Auckland as dusk was settling in.  I noted when I got back just how quiet the city seemed, not really what I would have expected from a city.  I was happy to get back to my room and have an early night.

The Maori name for New Zealand translates as 'The land lf the long white cloud', however, I woke the next day (rather late) to find it was also the land of the long black cloud.  It was raining, and my idea to investigate one of the islands didnt seem good, so I took the sightseeing bus on a figure of 8 tour around Auckland, spending time at the Cathedral (Holy Trinity), which I found thoroughly enchanting.  I had long conversations with the ladies who were in the Cathedral as official welcomers, and did learn the history of the  fascinating architecture.  The main building is partially in the classical gothic style, albeit modern, and this part was based on Guildford Cathedral at home. The other part is based on a Maori Marai with some stunning modern stained glass and some indifferent modern stained glass.  Alongside this, is the wooden church of St Mary which was moved from across the road to become an ancillary to the cathedral.  There was a special energy in this art deco building, and I was intrigued to find the lectern in the pulpit  had been crafted by Thompson aka the mouse man of Kilburn, Yorks.  With a little searching I found the mouse, and was told by the lady welcomers that I was only the 2nd person in the 20 yrs they had been here to do so.  Must be some pretty stupid people visit as all I did was read the description of its whereabouts and have a good grope.  Later I had a good chat with the bus driver about paganism to counter this unusual interest in things christian,  he was wearing a pentagram ring which started the whole thing off.  All this chatting meant I hadn't got time to go into the museum, but travelling isnt all about places and things, its about people too.

Back in the city, I walked along the waterfront for a while and decided to try a restaurant for dinner that several had recommended, Kermadec. The food was again fantastic, although I was disappointed with the frozen chips.  Somewhere of this calibre should do handcut ones.  I don't usually eat desserts but gave in to the crème brulee which was again the best ever, although the lemon sorbet and chocolate dust didn't seem to match the flavours, the toffee popcorn and fresh berries with it were inspired accompaniments. It was then back to my room to watch a DVD.

Thursday brought much better weather so I took the ferry to the Island of Waiheke, which was a hippy colony in the1960's and today is famed for its wines and has a strong modern art culture. I got a day pass on the local buses and rode almost every route there was. Not much other than vineyards and beaches to see with one village to serve the retail needs of the tourists and locals. I stopped in one vineyard for a meal and wine tasting and basked in the sun for a while before moving to the adjacent Stoneyridge vineyard. Here I struck up a conversation with some people from Richmond on Thames, and was urged to try the most expensive wine on the list 'Larose' at about £200 a bottle. Yum, you could see why this was so expensive, an absolutely divine red, perfect in every way. I hasten to add I only had a taster at £8. I took my glass out into the garden and sat with my back to a tree contemplating the vines and the clear blue sky. After a while I became more aware of where I was sitting and looked behind the tree. Kwan Yin must be following me, as there was her statue!

I ended the day there by going for a walk across the longest beach there, paddling in and out of the waves. I got talking to a couple of ladies doing the same, one of whom owned a holiday home on the island. It was interesting to hear what she had to say about life on an island and how similar it sounded to life on Alderney in the Channel Islands. I accepted their offer of a lift back to the ferry so we could talk more, and after exchanging visiting cards, went for a wander around an art exhibition for half an hour before getting the boat back to Auckland with another collection of happy memories.

A Long Weekend Around Adelaide

My valiant chauffeur, Martyn, left work early on the Friday to get me to Melbourne airport for 5 pm.  The flight got delayed, but it wasn't long until I was at Adelaide arrivals hall being greeted by one of my best and longest standing friends, Ken Howard.  Ken and I used to indulge in tutored wine tastings together back in the Cambridge days, so I was looking forward to this weekend as he lives so close to the Barossa Valley.

It took about an hour to drive back to his place in Lewiston, which truly was in the back of beyond. It is a single storey long, veranda fronted wooden building in several acres of land with sheep and a horse in the paddock. It was good to meet the new lady in his life, Robyn, and over a great Aussie favourite, steak, and a few glasses of local wine we became friends.

On Saturday we headed into The Barossa with Robyn at the wheel, first stopping at Mount Pleasant farmers market where Red had a stall selling spices and home made curries.  It was good to see her again and to see Ken's sons David and Declan, both chips off the old block.  The market was similar to our farmers markets, with fruit and veg that is produced on a smaller scale than the market I had been to the previous week in The Yarra Valley.

We started by exploring The Eden Valley but didnt find  a cellar door for tastings.  The Eden Valley has a micro climate within The Barossa and is becoming well known as an independent wine area.  The countryside was splendid, and the drive by no means a waste of time. We stop near the Mount Adam vineyard to take photos, and then moved on.  Robyn drove from one vineyard to another, stopping for lunch on the way, while Ken and I sampled  wine after wine, mainly agreeing that the Shiraz were not as good as its reputation.  I was later to learn from a NZ vineyard that this is because climate change  means the grapes of this variety are not able to develop to their full potential. We visited Penfolds because we know I can get the stuff in UK, but the vineyard that pleased the most was an artisan vineyard that we found by chance at the end of the day, Kabminye.  This vineyard is owed by the wonderfully named Mr Glastonbury who told me his ancestry took him back to Dursley in Glos, which is 'Cider with Rosie' country, and is also where my surname hails from.   I voted strongly  for the Durif blend, and bought a bottle to enjoy with dinner that night, and a bottle of the Muscat to thank the driver for her valiant services throughout the day.  Other notables were the boutique vineyard of Charles Melton .  The Shiraz was unappealing, but the Nine Popes Blend was fantastic. Also, from Grant Burge, The Kraft Sauvignon Blanc had a really refreshing zing of grapefruit in its complex palate.

Horror of the day, week, month, whatever must go to Jacobs Creek for their wine factory.  Having seen so many lovely artisan and boutique producers, this was an eyesore.  Looking at it made me wonder if they also pasteurised the wine to make sure it all met a standardised taste.  It rather put me off their label.

As we neared home, knowing my devotion to Kwan Yin, Robyn stopped outside a Vietnamese temple dominated by a statue of my Lady Goddess.  I went in and paid my respects and was invited by the monk to join them the next day for New Year celebrations.  With time so short in the area, I was unable to take him up on that.  Having a mediteranean climate, this area historically attracted many Italians, who planted not only vines, tomatoes and bell peppers,  but olive groves.  Having made their money, they are now going elsewhere and selling up to the new wave of migrants from Vietnam.  The crops are changing, and pak choi is in abundance on the Adelaide plain.


Sunday was another interesting day being driven around the beautiful area I was in, this time by Ken, in the Adelaide Hills.  There were times when looking across the hills you could've thought you were in the UK.  There was a hint of green in the fields, rather than the hue of ripened hay, along with deciduous and pine trees.  Palm trees were not in so much evidence to tarnish the image and the gum trees at a distance could have been deciduous trees.  There is a long history of German settlers in the area as can be seen by the names of villages and towns such as Hahndorf and Lobethal.

Our first stop was at The Toy factory in Gumeracha, that sports what claims to be the world's biggest rocking horse as its symbol.  It was easy to connect all these wonderful wooden toys with the German influence but further investigation taught me that this was only about 40 yrs old and set up by someone with a very English name!

After a further drive along scenic roads we went on to explore Hahndorf, and go in search of some black forest gateau.  (Why not when in a Germanic town?) After a saunter through various of the shops I got side tracked by a micro brewery, and while Ken and Robyn had a small cider each I enjoyed a tasting paddle of the cellar masters finest half dozen.  Excellent!  Next stop was a lovely German tea shop and a generous slice of Schwarzwald kirchtorte.

We stopped off at the pizza shop, and went home for another evening of relaxation.  After the meal and a glass of the local wine we relaxed in the hot tub on the back verandah watching the stars come out until our skins turn wrinkly.

I slept well that night!


Neither Ken nor Robyn were going to work on the Monday, so we spent a leisurely morning and then went into Adelaide for a whistle stop look at the city.  We celebrated the Chinese new year by having lunch in Chinatown, and then went for a quick look around the art gallery.  I was enchanted to find a couple of Waterhouse pictures, and some by George Frederick Watts, whose magnificent sculpture "Physical Energy" is in Hyde Park, and whose gallery, south of Guildford I often visit.  The gallery of Australian artists was a revelation.  I had never heard of them yet they were top rate classical style artists.  I clearly have to educate myself for the future.

Time waits for no one, nor do airplanes, so only too quickly we had to make our way to the airport so that I could get back to Melbourne.  We said our goodbyes, with the promise to meet up again next year in Cambridge, UK.

Back in Melbourne the ever faithful Martyn was there to meet me with my large suitcase.  We then had a meal in the airport pub and said a final goodbye as I proceed through security to catch a midnight plane to New Zealand.

(Don't) P..P..P..Pick up a Penguin

On Thursday Martyn had again offered to take me further afield than the Melbourne area. This time the plan was for me to meet him from work and to drive out to Phillip Island to watch The Penguin Parade, which starts at dusk.

The drive there wasn't quite the expected 90 mins, as there had been an accident on the freeway, which added an extra hour to the journey. So folks, long delays are not just the provenance of the M25 and M1. All this meant was that instead of having dinner at a beach town near to our destination, we joined everyone else at the resort for a mass catered meal. Which I have to say was far better than offered at similar places in UK.

Phillip Island is a wild life haven, and famously has a large colony of Little (or Fairy) Penguins, which are no more than 12 inches high. At dusk they return from the sea to their burrows on land, marching up the beach and through the dunes a good few hundred metres. This happens every night, and they dont seem at all fazed by the presence of human spectators. In the dunes a possum and a wallaby also popped up to say hello to us, again the penguins didn't mind.

We took our seats and waited, marvelling at the bad behaviour of a whole load of orientals - Korean? The stars of the show were expected sometime around 9 pm, but at 8.30 one little joker appeared and waddled a short way out of the water looked around and then ran back. He did this several times much to our amusement. It was about 9 when the beach landings began. They penguins seemed all black and sleek when they first emerged, however, later when we saw them on land they were fluffy and cuddly looking, more grey than black. To be honest the emergence from the sea was not in the flocks (Actually the group name for penguins in the sea is a raft.) I had imagined.

After watching them for a bout 20 mins we took to the board-walks to watch their progress through the dunes. This was much more like it, and you were able to get very close to them, but not that close to touch. At one point we were halted by the rangers as one fluffy Pingu had decided to leave his track and walk across the board-walk. Penguins have priority here and the wardens make sure they can get where they want to in safety.

The sky was so clear, and I love being by the sea. The whole evening was magical.

After a coffee we returned home, this time without any hold ups. Tomorrow late afternoon I would be leaving for Adelaide.

http://www.penguins.org.au/about/our-story/our-history/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phillip_Island

A Golden Day

Martyn had decided to take Wednesday off work so he could take me to Ballarat, a historic gold rush town, about 90 mins away in the car. The weather was hot and we set off armed with sun hats and sun block. We arrived at Sovereign Hill around 11.30 am, 90 mins after it had opened. Lady luck was smiling on us because as we parked the car, a couple approached us and asked if we would like their tickets, as they had gone in and were not impressed, so were going home. Well of course we said yes. The full price for admission was $A45 each so I was very happy, having offered to pay for Martyn in thanks for being such good chauffeur. We found plenty of interest, including lovely place for a fish & chips lunch as well as tea and scones in the afternoon!

Parts of Ballarat made think that Scarlett O'Hara should be taking the air on the verandah, and I wondered if Rhett Butler would give a damn if she did. Other parts made me think there would be a show down at noon, but the bar was sporting ads for Newcastle Brown, and that kinda made the image fade.

The whole experience was fascinating. We were able to see examples of both privately owned and company owned underground workings and alluvial sources. They had a tent village and a full town of proper buildings reflecting how the gold rush brought wealth to traders as well as lucky speculators, but until you hit gold, the likelihood was you would be in the tents. A stage coach went up and down the road giving tourist rides, and many were dressed in period costume, giving the whole area a genuine feel.

Ladyluck looked down on me again that day, as when we sat down to lunch (fish and chips in the period restaurant), I realised that I had lost one of my hearing aids. The ear piece was still in situ but the workings had detached and fallen off somewhere. I can mange without my aids, but the NHS don't take kindly to replacing lost ones, so it was an expensive bit of kit to loose. I went to retrace my steps and see if it had been handed in to anyone. No luck in the saloon or the haberdashery and dressmakers, I continued along the path to the ticket office for the underground tours. As the board-walk ran out and the path became gravel, I found it, unharmed. That was a miracle as it was not much bigger than a gravel stone and much the same colour. Had the place been any more crowded I guess, it would have been trodden on. Lesson: check hearing aid is in place every time you put on or remove your sun hat, or any other kind of hat to come to that!

Before leaving to visit the gold museum, we partook of a delightful cream tea in the tearooms. Scrummy!

The gold museum wasn't that interesting, but did have some awesome nuggets (or were they replicas?). Having worked for gold refiners in the late 1970's, I guess I am a bit under awed by lumps of gold that aren't double the size of a housing brick.

And so another great day came to a close as we drove home to relax over dinner and another glass of something red . . . . or was it white?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sovereign_Hill

W is for Weekend, W is for Wine

Martyn had very kindly offered to take me out and about over the weekend to see whatever, I wanted to in th Melbourne hinterland, and I opted to explore some of the gastronomy of the region. The Yarra Valley is world famous for its wines, but there was also a lesser known area, Mornington Peninsular that sported many boutique vineyards and some creameries making cheeses. With a name like Mornington, any fan of “I'm Sorry I Havent a Clue”, simply has to head there. The drive took us through scenery that reminded me of UK – pine and deciduous trees as well as the gum trees, edged fields of sheep or cattle and grass crops harvest gold in colour. The hills rolled. It was a very different feel to sub tropical Brisbane with its palms. Melbourne has a temperate climate with 4 seasons. Its sometimes said that you can get all 4 seasons in one day, just like UK. However, the temperature was high 20's and aa lot nicer than UK, even comparing it against the same season – end of summer, beginning of autumn.

We headed to a creamery in Red Hill where we weren't disappointed and bought several of their artisan cheeses to enjoy later in the week. In fact for the first time ever, I bought a goats cheese, which really appealed to me. Usually they make me gag. Opposite was a small Vineyard, that we went to and sampled some of it offerings – a little on the young side was our opinion, and a bit acidic. Interestingly, when we stopped a couple of miles down the road and sampled some wines of the same grape varieties and vintage (2010 & 11) they were acceptable, with more rounded flavours. Only goes to show that its worth sampling a few before making a decision as to what to buy.

I also wanted to find a brewery as all of the Aussie beer I had sampled to date was weak and feeble gnats piss. I felt that somewhere in an area of such good wines there must have been a decent beer. Unfortunately the micro brewery we found was not open to tourist for another 3 weeks, and the owner quite rudely turned us away.

Still onward and upward, we literally went upward to a beauty spot called Arthurs Seat where we could look down through woods onto the peninsular.

We had theatre tickets for that evening back in Melbourne so our outing was short but sweet, but still very enjoyable.

Back in Melbourne we met friends of Martyn for dinner and then went to see 'The Other Place' which was a very clever play addressing topical mental health problems. This was my first glimpse of Central Melbourne, and I just loved what I saw, especially the very clever architecture of Federation Square.

Sunday was the day for getting down to the serious business of The Yarra Valley. The Yarra is the river that runs through Melbourne, and The Valley produces some world class wines. We first visited Rochford Winery, where there was a small market selling fresh produce, preserves, crafts and fruit juices. Very much along the same lines of our Farmers markets but somehow so much better in the hot climate. The wine tasting at the winery was excellent - so much better than yesterday. We bought some to enjoy with yesterdays cheese later in the week. We then went in search of a brewery, but overshot it and found ourselves at the Balgownie vineyard, which Martyn said was excellent. It didn't disappoint. The somelier was a master of his trade and seemed to enjoy our discussions with him. He even started pouring samples of some of the better spatlese style wines that were not intended for free tastings for us. Our next stop was a dairy that did a good bread and cheese platter to soak up the wine tastings …......... ok there were spitoons available but where's the fun in that?!

We did find the Hargreaves Brewery afterwards and partook of their taster paddle. This is an ingenious way of sampling a little of everything without leaving the pub bankrupt. For about £5 you get a wooden tray with 6 holes in it (a paddle) with small glasses, maybe around 75 ml capacity, like a double shot glass with different beers in them. The first 3 beers were typical Aus, thin and flavourless, but the same was not the case for the others and the final one was a very pleasing dark beer reminiscent of Olde Peculiar. Sadly the distribution area for micro breweries is not large, as is the case anywhere.

It was a very happy and well wined Suzie that Martyn took home that evening.

Messing around in Melbourne

Martyn was working during the week, so it was up to me to get myself up and out to explore Melbourne. Since he lived close to a park and ride this was easy. I managed to get off the bus at a central location and take the tram a couple of stops to Federation Square, which is the hub for transport and tourist information. The city is under a square mile and built on a strict square system like American cities so its difficult to get lost. The architecture is s good mix of varying styles with some clever modern works, non more so than Federation Square which takes the colours of nearby buildings in clusters of fractal triangles. There are also some impressive French second empire styles, notably the heritage listed Royal Exhibition Building, which is cleverly counterpointed by the modern glass fronted Museum of Melbourne next door. Yes, there are few Lego buildings but even they seem to have adjacent structures which justify them. In amongst the modernity there are classical brick, Victorian building, but non of the neogothic monstrosities that Brisbane had; small colonial style buildings with wrought iron verandahs and Edwardian Villas. Flinders Street Station took some getting used to, opposite Fed Sq. A seriously large red brick structure with ochre facings. To my eye the ochre should have been a little lighter to blend with sandstone colours in other buildings, but hen one considers that ochre is naturally occurring and the traditional medium for aboriginal body painting, it probably is the right colour for the area, and maybe its the lighter sandstone shades that need geeing up a bit. Altogether a pleasing city to look at.

I rode the free circular tramway a couple of times, and sat by the harbour watching life go by. (I love being near water). The tram has a good running commentary, so you don't need tour guides to tell you what's what. People were friendly and helpful, and I generally liked the vibe in the city. There is a definite coffee culture there, with many places declaring the type of beans they use in their coffees. The shops were fairly standard, and didn't hold much interest for me. Generally I found Aus expensive, but as their minimum wage is about twice ours, that has to be expected.

The days I spent in Melbourne had very similar patterns. I visited the museum and looked at Aboriginal art, and walked in the Aboriginal herb garden, and on Friday went to the Koorie trust exhibition where I got interested in the traditional creation stories. I bought a book of them so I can get to grips with some of them later. There are hundreds of tribes throughout Australia, each with their own language and traditions, so its hard to be definitive about anything Aboriginal. Another day I went to the Immigration Museum and learnt about the migrants from many different countries. I had not realised that the Chinese had migrated in such great numbers, and had suffered as much discrimination as anyone at the hands of the (mainly) English settlers. The reconstructions of living quarters on the boats of the 1950's and 60's that brought my uncles to Aus were interesting, but the details of the Barnados children who were forcibly removed from UK during the 2 nd world war made me ashamed to be British. (This was not my first introduction to this atrocity but seeing it in such detail was upsetting). Migration is still very much part of Aus culture today, and it would be easy to say, they have the room so why not? However, life here is high quality, better than UK, and migrants need to be able to live up to these standards if this young country is to grow. There is s till a big issue with integrating Aboriginal needs and attitudes, whilst acknowledging rights, without adding the likes of Sudanese boat people, for instance, to the mix. However without the rich mix of migrants Aus would not be such a vibrant place and certainly the gastronomy would suffer.

The large covered market, was a delight. You could buy everything there and there were numerous stalls selling similar goods, so prices were keen. The market has wholesale outlets for fresh produce as well as the more familiar retail stalls. It was a fantastic place for people watching too, and the fresh smoothies weren't bad either! One of the preconceived images I had of Aus was of high quality food. Brisbane overall didnt come up to that expectation, but Melbourne excelled itself. Even supermarket fruit and veg is tops, fresher than Morrisons and Marks & Sparks in UK, probably at standard UK market freshness.

There is a China town in Melbourne, but it didnt hold my interest, probably because once you have experienced London's Soho it paled into insignificance. It did however, give an idea of the oriental ethnic mix, including Korean, Vietnamese and other eateries. Sushi bars are common place in the main stream areas, and out of town. There is also a good integration of Thai restaurants, not that these held any interest for me. In fact every time I saw one, I felt a dread that I have a further 5 days in Thailand to come, and I have to run the gamut of food that makes me ill.

The weather was good and the temperatures sometimes touched 40. Happy days.

Feb 1st 2013

I was up and out early as Wes was able to drop me at Brisbane Airport on his way to work.  The plane was delayed because Brisbane Airport is upgrading runways so has one permanently closed????  Sounds like the kind of thing they do in UK.  It was only a 2 hr flight to Melbourne, but with delays and time differences between the 2 cities, it was early afternoon when I got to Melbourne.

Martyn was there to meet me.  It was so good to see an old friend again.  We got back to his place and kicked back to catch up.  It seemed like only 6 months ago we were together ...................  oh wait........  it was only 6 months ago.

We went to the supermarket to get supplies in for the week, and later  an evening with pizza and red wine was just the ticket, along with some of the old photos he had from The Cambridge Days.

Tomorrow was my call to explore this new territory.

Two Good Days

With only 2 days left in Brisbane, I felt I ought to get to do some serious tourist stuff. However, my arthritis and wonky knee were complaining loudly that hadn't had the right kind of exercise, and had been aggravated big time by walking down steep slopes around Nathan's area. Yesterday I had walked a lot so today I resolved not to walk much and to end the day with a swim on the South Bank.

I took a bus into town and then another out to an Opal museum. It was small but very informative with an enthusiastic owner who happily rattled on about anything you wanted to know about opals. Some opals are in fact laminates. Doubles are a layer of opal on top of black granite or basalt, and trebles are doubles with a clear crystal – plastic, glass or quartz on top. http://www.brisbaneopalmuseum.com.au/

I spent the rest of the afternoon back at the beach on South Bank swimming. As I had decided to eat out by myself that evening, when I saw some students preforming something that was cross between Tai Chi and tribal dancing, I settled down to watch them with a plate of fish and chips. I dont know what on earth I was watching but it was very enjoyable. Quite a few of the circle of students had Brazilian flags on their tops, which might be a clue.

A good day

My last day in Brisbane was bit overcast and cooler, which was perfect for the trip I had planned to Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary. I wasnt too sure that this was actually going to be 'my bag', although I did want to meet a koala face to face. In fact I found the whole thing awesome. I cuddled a koala and fed kangaroos. I told the ticket office I was a UK pensioner, and they said in that case you are a concession here - no need to prove it one way or the other. I was expecting to be ripped off left right and centre but that wasn't the case, so another successful day.

That evening Nathan and I headed over to South bank again to meet Troy and Tania, for drinks, more drinks, chat and more chat, more drinks and finally a lovely meal at a pub along the lively Grey Street.

Happy days and good friends.

Tomorrow morning its goodbye Brisbane and hello Melbourne.

Brisbane

With unexpected extra time in Brisbane I was able to catch up with things and really get to grips with Brisbane. Tuesday brought good weather and I went into town to just wander around and find out what was what. I am always interested in architecture, and with some of Brisbane's structures dating back to the mid 1800's, and the prevalence of wooden homes in the style known as Queenslander, I had hoped to see some innovative modern designs that linked the various styles and ages. There were also many examples of Art Deco, a style I just adore, but is not so common in UK nowadays. My hopes about modern architecture were dashed. There are some good pieces, some of which could be spectacular in other settings, but there are more than a few examples of the late 60's – 70's style that could be termed 'Fort Lego - disaster of the year', and in my opinion would be best knocked down. I dont think I saw one example of clever linking of adjacent styles, and the whole city felt 'wrong shui' to me.

The sub tropical climate of the area means that life style is very al fresco. Pavement cafes abound and the south bank has a good vibe, providing an excellent arts and cultural centre surrounded by loads of eateries. There is an artificial beach area where children can play and splash in water of a safe depth, and others can find deeper sections for a leisurely swim, all for free.

The transport system is excellent, fully integrated and modern. There are dedicated bus lanes that are sometimes elevated and sometimes underground to bypass city bottle necks. This means that the punctuality is good, although not perfect.

Brisbane is not highly densely populated by UK standards, and although the central area is busy during the day, it is never uncomfortably crowded. In the evenings there never seemed to be enough people around to give it a true city buzz.

One evening I had to wait almost half an hour for a bus, having just missed one. It was funny watching the names of destinations on other buses as they came along. Often I felt like I had sunk through some time warp back to UK, as destinations such as Ipswich, Southport, Warwick and Everton Park flashed by. Then came Tenerife ….. somehow that didnt fit. Some of the names made me conjure fanciful pictures. Jindalee sounded like it should be very Australian with a large aboriginal community, where elders encouraged you to tune in to the heart beat of the earth by keeping you ear to the ground until you could hear it, and then to listen to the whispers of your ancestors on the wind. (I have to say it is not all like that). How did places end up with enigmatic names like Fig Tree Pocket? And is Indooroopily an enclave for those who have a phobia of outdoors?

Brisbane might not have hit the right spot with me on many levels but playing with the place names certainly put a smile on my face.

Aftermath of Oswald

By Monday the rain had eased off considerably and the wind didn't seem gale force any more. It was a public holiday, but Wes, Nathan and myself were up early to get me to the bus station for 9 am as I was booked to go out into the NSW outback to see my cousin Pam. The bus company had been adamant they needed a contact phone number when I booked, an I gave them Nathan's number. We had not heard from them to say, the trip was cancelled, so set off expectantly with Wes as chauffeur. Alas on getting to the bus station all was cancelled, and very little information was to be had. As we got back into the car, the lovely Wes decided that he hadn't anything planned for the day so would try to drive me part way to get me on the other side of the flood zone around Ipswich, so we drove out cross the flat countryside as the Brisbane River ran eastwards. We seemed to make good timing and I enjoyed seeing a different terrain to the urban landscapes I had been experiencing. As we got to the Ipswich area fields were flooded and we wondered how wise we were, and what prospect the boys had of getting home after dropping me, but nontheless remained optimistic. It was just beginning to feel like we had beaten the system as we got on the eastern side of Ipswich when the side of Fire department trucks loomed across the road. The road was closed and we at the end of our adventure. We were allowed to get out of the car and take photos of the floods. It was obvious that it would be several days before that road was passable again, and I sadly accepted that I was not going to get to see Pam.

As we drove back to Brisbane, we realised that the chances of the boys getting back later in the day, had we made it through to Warwick were virtually zero. The water was still rising.

As we got into the suburbs of Brisbane Wes pointed out places of interest and shared his knowledge of local history with me. We drove to a beauty spot, and the highest peak overlooking the city, Mount Coot-tha, which is an indigenous word meaning 'place of honey'. Ithaca creek was really swollen and trees were down across several of the tracks, necessitating a change of direction for us on at least one occasion. The wind was strong, but it was so good to be outside after being cooped up over the weekend. The wind was warm, and not like the cold UK winds.

I treated the boys to a good Chinese meal for lunch and we then went to a supermarket to get a few bits – Aldi, which was pretty much like Aldi in UK but with far less deli products. The main 2 supermarkets in Queensland are Woolworths (nothing like our late departed UK store of the same name) and Coles. So refreshing not to find Tesco!!

In some ways not the most interesting day of my trip, but certainly not boring, and a day packed with friendship.

Oswald ruins Australia Day

Jan 26th is the anniversary of the first arrivals at Jackson Cove (later to become Sydney) from England, and hence the declaration of British Sovereignty.  Its celebrated as a public holiday and everyone celebrates being Australian with parties and big public firework displays.  As this year Jan 26th fell on a Saturday, there was an additional days holiday on the Monday.  Everyone  had there own plans for how to spend this long weekend.  it also marked the end of the long summer holiday break for schools, and the start of the new school year.  Being the southern hemisphere, this was the height of summer.  My family were going to celebrate by having a BBQ lunch at Jane's house on the Sunday.  I was looking forward to seeing everyone together.

Jane has a beautiful single storey house set in a garden of palm trees in the Riverhills district of Brisbane, with  pretty swimming pool and large covered BBQ area.  It was about 15 yrs since we had seen each other, and we had plenty of catching up to do.   The cry of the kookburras pierced the background sound from other birds, and the thunder of the heavy rain.  It really felt like I was in the middle of a rain forest. The TV informed us that it would rain heavily all weekend.  Jane and I set in for a weekend of chat.

As Saturday progressed, it became apparent that the cyclone had not lessened but in fact had picked up speed and was moving south.  It was no longer expected to not affect us.  The wind was bending the trees and the rain torrents were beginning to go sideways. Jane and I dug in further for more chatting and TV.

The weather didn't stop everyone getting through ion Sunday for the BBQ, which Nathan cooked in the covered area outside, and we ate inside. Good times.

TV informed us that most of the public celebrations for the weekend were cancelled, so there would be no fireworks.  Furthermore the airport was closed and 5 tornadoes had struck up the coast, and there was no knowing if they would strike us. We didn't need the TV to tell us things were getting worse, it was self evident.  Non the less Wes drove us back to town without incident as the rain continued sideways.  The next morning (Monday) I was due to go into the bush to stay 2 nights with cousin Pam in Emmaville.    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emmaville,_New_South_Wales

The Sunshine State

With regret I left Sydney for Brisbane.  On arrival, it was raining and the temp was around 25 degrees.  It wasn't unpleasant, but the rain was a bit heavier than I had expected. My 2nd cousin Nathan, who had stayed with me 3 yrs ago in Surrey was there to meet me and guide me back to his central apartment, that he shares with his lovely partner, Wes.  We laughed that Nathan had managed to even lay on English weather for me to make me feel at home, and settled down to a cuppa and catch up.  A few hours later when Wes got in from work the rain seemed to be set in.  We realised from the TV that rain would be a feature of the next few days as we were picking up the tail end of tropical cyclone Oswald, but there was no reaason to suspect anything extreme was about to happen.

It was so good to sleep on a soft bed that night and I slept well.  (Thailand seemed to be a land full of hard, but not uncomfortable, beds).  The next day Nathan escorted me into town to sort out tickets to visit my cousin Pam, which lies in the country about 260 miles away, and to show off the impressive south bank area of town.  My first impression was one of an extremely efficient public transport system. South bank was the arts focus of town and home to the Queensland Library complex, which houses so many different activity and interest centres. This is where Nathan used to work, and where Troy, who also stayed at my house in 2010, still works.  We had lunch with Troy and a couple of other friends.  It seemed like I had known Tania for ages, and that it was only yesterday that I last saw Troy.  Happy days!

The rain continued, and later that day Nathan's bro in law, Jason, picked me up on his way home from work to take me to my cousin Jane's house about half an hour away.

The rain got worse and worse, was this really The Sunshine State???

Sydney

After an overnight flight from Bangkok via Kuala Lumpur, I arrived in Sydney at 11 am on Jan 22^nd 2013. First problem was the taxi I booked didnt show up, so I used the airport taxi rank – OMG how expensive was that. Its a comparable journey from my own hoe to Heathrow but cost £60 as opposed to the UK £35. The route took me over The Harbour Bridge. Initial impressions was that Isambard Brunel Kingdom had been here, and that if you have ever driven over The Tyne Bridge, you would have a feel for this bridge too. Luckily the guest house booking was fine and my room at Glenferrie Lodge was ready A shower followed by a few hours kip was just what I needed.

I then set off to explore the locality of Kirribilli. How beautiful! The area is a wealth of Art Deco architecture, and the guest house has some fine original features. Its considered an very well off neighbourhood, and is the location of This is a period of design I just love. At the end of the road I turned towards a small cove and get my first glimpse of Sydney Harbour. The Opera house looks smaller than I had expected against the back drop of skyscrappers, but I later discover this is an illusion. The temperature is mid 20's so much cooler than Thailand, and I find it very comfortable to walk, so I wander along the foreshore to Milsons point.  The ups and downs of the rocky coastline means this was possibly not the kindest thing for my knees, but no lasting damage was done, and later I took a ferry into Circular Quay to explore the vibrant area around the Opera House, where I resolved to see La Boheme the next night.

For my only full day in Sydney I went on the open double decker sightseeing tour that took me everywhere, including Bondi   http://www.city-sightseeing.com/tours/australia/sydney.htm#tourlandingposition Sydney is built on a numerous headlands, spits points and ismuths (I once had a neighbour I used to refer to as ismuth, as she had a long neck sticking out to see), that form inlets and coves that would have made Slatty Bartfast proud. This gives to an interesting geography where sea travel is essential to join up all the communities. There is a great ferry system, which is efficient and punctual where everything docks at Circular Quay.

Everywhere was awesome and the cool breeze made it a very pleasant day. Bondi reminded me of Mawgan Porth in Cornwall. The waves were not as big as I had imagined. I am not sure why I found it so reminiscent, and it is now more than 10 yrs since I went to Mawgan Porth, so my memory is probably warped. Its also interesting to note, that although the Aussies are big on sun protection, there were no parasols or shades available on the beach as there are in many other tropical and sub tropical resorts.

After a quick refresh back at base, I then went to The Opera House to see La Boheme, which was absolutely brilliant, and will live with me for many years to come. The inside of The Opera House reminded me in parts of The Barbican – large swathes of concrete caverns, and over priced sarnies.

My 3^rd day was only a few hours in Sydney, and I decided that after the good hot buffet breakfast provided by the guest house, I would just soak up the sunshine in their garden while catching up on my blog and onward itinery. The driver from the guest house ( £15 cheaper than a taxi) drove me back along The Harbour Bridge. Its not surprising that it felt like the Tyne Bridge, as it was designed and built by the same team, who based both on New York's Hell's Gate Bridge. My driver went on to tell me about the place I stayed in. It was built as a rest and respite care lodging for bridge workers in the 1930's when art deco was at its peak. The rest of the area grew up around it once the bridge was open, and is now home to many famous people.

48 hrs was not enough time to explore this lovely city, and all too soon I was at the airport on my way to catch up with my Brisbane family

Reflections on Thailand

A land of contrasts – there's some amazing modern architecture and impressive sky scrappers in several places I visited, but also some abject squalor as was seen alongside river banks whether on water taxis or luxury cruises, the views were always comparable. Despite this everyone seemed to be happy and it certainly was The land of a thousand smiles. Ambitions did not seem particularly high – make 500 Baht a day and everyone is happy. 300 Baht for a 12 hr day is the legal minimum wage, but for many of the street sellers they are self employed so on a bad day they will not be protected by this law.

Street life is 100% ingrained in life style, all kinds of wares are sold from static stalls, hand carts, motorbikes with specially rigged side car structures, hand held baskets and frames, or traditional panniers balanced over one shoulder like a giant weighing scale. Popup bars and eateries materialise at dark fashioned out of any of these means. The food always looks good, and smells tasty and thousands of locals use them. However, I had 2 bouts of food poisoning in 3 weeks, only using the fruit sellers, so am dubious as to how clean some of these actually are. I then heard that Thai girls who go to Europe with their rich sugar daddies are often frightened of going to the loo as they have never passed a solid motion in their lives, and think they will tear themselves. Make your own mind up as to whether or not you would eat street food!

Because of the high temperatures during the day, dusk is when there is a flurry of activity on the streets. Its cooler, and more conducive to market shopping, hence the plethora of night street markets. There are thousands of them, and no one any less interesting to the westerner than the next. Bartering is not on the same level that one finds in Arab countries, but they do try to get s much for their goods as possible from visitors, so its worth trying to negotiate. For instance, I bought some pearls from beach seller in Jomtien. I was offered just a necklace for 500 Baht – actually a bargain for real pearls, but I didnt want to pay the first price offered. After a little to and fro I got a necklace and bracelet for 350 Baht. She had quickly dropped to 400 so I knew there was room for manoeuvre downwards, and at the end of the day (it was dusk) she would have been glad to take what mounted to a days wage in one sale. £7 for a real pearl necklace and bracelet – bargain! The next day Andy bartered for a hair clip for Ruby, his ability in Thai helped no end. We soon saw the sellers in 7 Eleven, and he said the reason we couldn’t get it any cheaper was obviously because they were thirsty, and wanted enough to buy a couple of drinks. Made me feel a bit guilty that I had bartered!

There's a pervasive smell of sewers everywhere, but the loos are by and large acceptable, although some public ones have signs telling you they are for urine only. I have met this in Turkey, where its obvious the plumbing just cant cope with bulk, but it was not so obvious in Thailand and I wonder whether its just a matter of cant be bothered to clean.

You cant reflect on Thailand without considering the sex industry. The mind set is different here. Westerners see the girls as being exploited by men, often older. However, a great many girls, especially from the country are brought up to expect not to work, as its a man's job to keep her, and in return she would pander to his every whim. She would learn to cook, massage, and to go to the beauty salon on a regular basis, and always wear smart new clothes that have been paid for by a man. Working in restaurants and bars is seen as a way to meet well off men. The population is 55% female and the birthrate seems to keep this a fairly static percentage. When you take out the gay and ladyboy percentage, this leaves a high deficit of local men, which is why Thai girls look elsewhere. It makes it hard to criticise the girls for allowing themselves to be exploited. Furthermore, they see it as the men being exploited as they are daft enough to to pay for what they see as very little effort. However, the hidden price is often high in the form of disease. Furthermore, the cheap and free clinics do not spell out exactly what the problem is when a girl presents with HIV or some other STD. She will be told she has a faulty immune system, or a virus or some similar bluff. As a consequence she will not know that she really must use condoms, and so the infection is spread.

At the same time, Thais are deeply spiritual and superstitious, believing in ghosts and lucky charms. They take fortune telling such as tarot very seriously, and believe every word. They are by and large devout Buddhists, with a keen sense of karma in both this and other lives. They honour spirits of place, who are often ancestors, and make sure there is always somewhere for them to reside in the form of spirit houses and or garlands of flowers, such are seen on the front of boats or hanging from rear view mirrors in vehicles.

There's a happy go lucky and can do attitude throughout society. Our health and safety nannies would have a field day here - who needs scaffolding when Don over there is happy with a rope ladder to take bricks up 15 floors?. Complain about pot holes in the road? You're having a laugh. Put up and shut up, and learn to drive round them. Be bothered that yobs will interfere with main elec supply when the cables are only at the level of the 2^nd floor of a house? Its an earthquake region so where else do we put them? And yob will only touch them once and word will soon get round that he fried himself. And if he decides that its the lower phone lines he will tamper with, then a Thai Jail will sort him out. A friend of Andy's recently found himself in jail – 150 to a cell with only a mat to sleep on, and a bowl of rice each day to eat, unless friends brought you more. When he got back to UK he went out for a drink to celebrate, his system didnt cope with alcohol after 6 weeks detention in Thailand, and he got picked up for being drunk and disorderly - thought he had died and gone to heaven with the luxury of the cell in the local nick!

There is also little social consciousness about plastic use.  The idea that you would reuse a carrier bag, or not need one it frowned on.  You  buy a bottle of  water, and you need a small bag and straw so you can hang it over your arm and drink from a straw, same for a can of coke, so you still have a hand free for whatever.   Rubbish was really noticeable on the island of Koh Lan - mountains dumped on a side road and occasionally burnt when the stench got high enough. The concern for public health is not part of national pride.  However, plastic bottles are recyclable, and some of the street dwellers go through bins collecting empty bottles which bring in an income of 1 Baht for 4 bottles.  At 50 Baht to the £1 this is hard work to earn a bag of groceries.

So is it with regret I leave Thailand? Hmm not sure. Mixed feelings really. I do have a further 5 days booked for March on the return leg of this odyssey. I will tell you then, but the fact I cant tolerate the food is a major sway against the country. (10 kgs lost in 3 weeks).

Jomtien

By Jan 14th I was ready to move out of Bangkok and Andy had had some distressing news over the weekend concerning his apartment in Bangkok.  It seemed the landlady had decided he was leaving without giving notice, despite the one year lease.  She  had changed the locks on the apartment and taken possession of all his belongings, and re let the apartment.  She was demanding a sum of money of around £250 to release his belongings and he was technically homeless. He came back to Bangkok to try to sort things out.  He called in a few favours for legal advice and realised that since the landlady had possession of his Spanish residency and ID documents she was actually committing a serious crime under Thai law punishable by 7yrs imprisonment.  He had his UK passport with him and a quick trip to Tesco Lotus gave him a clean change of clothes. Armed with his negotiating skills he spent some time with his landlady, negotiating and explaining his position.  To regain his other belongings might be a civil case, but he was giving her 24 hrs to think about her position before he called the police to arrest her over the Spanish docs.

I had originally planned to meet some friends in Phuket for a couple of days but had been unable to get in contact to confirm arrangements, so that evening Andy and I took a bus back to Jomtien, and  quickly found a holiday apartment for the week.  This was great, allowing us both to chill in a more homelike environment and do some serious mother/son bonding.  This was the main objective for the week, rather than sightseeing.

On the Tuesday Andy went back to Bangkok to see the landlady.  He arrived back at our temporary home late in the evening with everything apart from his guitar which the landlady wanted as surety against him paying the final electric bill. She had overvalued it by a factor of 10, so it was with mixed feelings Andy struck this deal.  Apparently it is common place for Thai's to try this sort of exploitation of Europeans, and the Landlady was taken aback when Andy didnt roll over and pay up.

The next day we hired a motorbike and quickly sorted out a more permanent address for him from 21st, and went on to Tesco's to do the weekly shop.  Unfortunately my guts were exploding again, but without the temperature, and other symptoms I had last week.  I stuffed myself full of imodium and got more antibcterial stuff.   As the day was fading around 6pm we jumped on the motorbike up to the Chinese Temple on the hill between Jomtien and Pattaya to see Kwan Yin.  The atmosphere was so peaceful and lovely, a truly spiritual experience for me.

The next day, took a similar chilled out format.  Homecooked food to let my guts settle, and reading by the pool.  Again as dusk was falling we set off for the hill we had been to the previous evening, but this time to the big golden Buddha that looks over Pattaya City, and the Thai temple.

Andy stopped on the way back to put some more petrol in our bike.  BP? Esso?  Shell?   No way! We pulled into a roadside where a couple of guys had a rack of old whiskey bottles filled with liquid.  One bottle 30 Baht (50 to the £1).  I had seen many of these stalls and not known what they were.  Now I knew, this was how people filled up the ubiquitous motor bikes with motion lotion!

Friday was another chill by the pool day, although I did go for a wander around the market.  Flies crawling all over the meat, it was no wonder I had had 2 food poisonings during my stay, although I had been careful with street food, the problem was probably because of my love for pineapple and buying that ready cut from 7 Eleven.

Now there's something to note.  The most useless direction you can give anyone trying to meet up with you is, ' turn at the 7 Eleven, down that street'.  7 Elevens are on the corner of every other street.  Even more ubiquitous that the Indian Corner shop in UK.  They are not all much of muchness, and its sometimes better to walk a block past your nearest to get a better selection of food.

Its now my last day here, and tomorrow I will wend my way back to Bangkok to get a flight to Kuala Lumpur, which connects to my overnight flight to Sydney, Australia.

Temples and Buddhas

With Oi and Andy still at loggerheads, Andy decided to head out of town to clear his head, so on Sat 12th, I had a leisurely brekky and browse of the papers and decided to find my way to the grand Palace and the Temple of the Emerald Buddha. There wast a skytrain near to it, and I wasnt certain I could use the songtaews without a local guide.  I then remembered our day on the river when we were right royally ripped off.  River taxi's went from that same point, and we had passed the Palace during that afternoon.  The pier would be a good starting point, so I took the skytrain there, and of course my intuition was correct.  I chatted to a gent from London on the river trip.  He seemed to think there was way too much walking involved in visiting The Palace.  I was a bit worried about that as I am not the world's best walker, and by this time the temp was 42 degrees.  The admission to the Palace was 500Baht  - £10 which is a lot of money in Thailand.  Touts outside were offering their services as personal guides, for an additional 450 Baht.  I wondered if I was doing myself a disservice by declining.  Soon the answer became apparent - certainly not!  There were free guided tours in English available from official guides.  The guide new exactly what to point out and at what pace to take it for us heat shy farangs.  However it was sometimes difficult finding her in a crowd as she was  not much more than 4ft tall and even with the obligatory guides umbrella, she disappeared below the towering bodies from Aus, USA, and UK!

The Palace is spectacular.  It has not been used as a royal residence for over 100 yrs, but it still has a firm place in ceremonial duties of state, and houses several staet departments. Everything glistens golden in the sunlight, and you cannot help but gawp in awe.  I am sure all the gold only reflects more heat down on us poor mortals who find temperatures at this level rather difficult.  Theres a dress code for visiting temples and other revered sites.    With a mid calf dress, not low cut I thought I had it sorted.  However, I had overlooked the necessity to make sure shoulders were covered.  My top had 3 inch wide straps, which didnt meet requirements.  I had to throw my shawl over my shoulders to get in.  The numbers who dont realise this  are such that there are booths that loan out acceptable clothing.  One of the first pics many tourists take is of the fellas decked out in floral beach pants or sarongs to cover their knees, and ill fitting shirts to cover their shoulders.

Within the grounds of the Palace is The Temple of the Emerald Buddha.  This is probably the most revered temple in Thailand, and its name refers to the tiny jade (not emerald) statue that sits atop an impressive and large altar in the temple's main hall. The Buddha image is clothed in seasonal robes, changed three times a year to correspond to the summer, winter, and rainy months. The changing of the robes is an important ritual, performed by the king, or these days because of the frailty of the king, by The Crown Prince.  The magically empowered statue is thought to have been made in North Thailand in the 15th century, before being installed at a temple in Laos, only to be taken back by the Thais and brought to the capital around 1780 -- a sore subject between the nations.  The statue is made of one solid piece of jade, and whilst it might be disappointing to find out that it isnt emerald, it is still an impressive lump of precious stone.  The whole atmosphere of the temple was one of awesome reverence.

By this time I was hot enough and ready to make my way back to my hotel - about an hour away, but not without what has become a favourite afternoon tipple of iced latte.

On the Sunday, I decided to repeat the formula for Saturday, and this time visit Wat Pho, the temple of the reclining Buddha.  I didnt really know what to expect, but knew it was on every list of things not to miss in Bangkok.  This temple was almost next door to The Palace, so I knew how to get there. I wander through the street traders to get there, and decided to try some coconut water as I was thirsty.  They just slice the top off a green coconut in front of you and stick a straw in it for you to drink.  I managed half of it  - not my favourite of drinks.  Nothing ventured nothing gained.  I'd stick to water in future.

 The temple is a much smaller complex, and therefore only 100Baht for entrance.  It is non the less spectacular, glistening golden flecks from the roof tiles and giving off a magical air.  Many of the stupas are covered in ceramics, not just here but in other temples too, Wat Arun (Temple of Dawn) from last week, being the most notable.  The reason for this is that Thailand used to plunder Chinese trading ships, and frequently on the high seas the cargos of porcelain got broken, rather than waste the crockery it was  cut up and recycled as temple decoration. Whether or not this anecdote is true, I dont know, but it certainly makes a good example of recycling 15th century style!

The temple is also the seat of traditional Thai medicine and massage. Around the grounds are shelters bearing the instructional texts and diagrams, dating back hundreds of years.  Massage is part of Thai culture, and most Thais will have some understanding of it.  Oi gave me a foot massage (reflexology) one day shortly after my arrival, and at the weekend, I had my hair done in Jomtien.  The ladyboy who washed my hair gave me a full head massage as art of the service.  Really nice, even if the stylist was a bit frightened of my fine wispy hair.

Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of the reclining Buddha.  Yeah, I had read that it was 15 mtrs high and over 40 mtrs long, but when faced with such an imposing  statue you cant help but be in awe. . . . .  and then wonder 'Why?'.  There was an element of money grabbing here that I would not play ball with.  Down one side of the statue were a series of money bowls.  You paid  a couple of quid and were given a bowl of coins ( probably 60p worth) and for everyone of the bowls you put coins into, buddha would bless you.

Having seen all I wanted to, I began to make my way back.  I got to the river/skytrain interchange and felt it was still too early to go back to the hotel, and I hadnt had my iced latte.  I decided to divert to the adjacent Shangri-La Hotel and see how the other half lives.  Afternoon tea was being served in the riverside lounge  - how elegant - so I partook.  It amazed me how so many petite oriental girls were just diving into mountains of cakes and pastries.  How on earth do they keep their figures!

I then wandered round yet another street market before making my way back, again observing that this was a nation of shopaholics!