Autumn in Carlton - and a fond farewell

G'day

Does the title of this blog sound like a Mills & Boon novel? If so, and you're worried what this post will be about, never fear, there are no damsels waiting to be whisked off their feet by strapping sailors or such like.

Instead I thought I'd make note of the changing season. March is officially the start of autumn here and so far it's been rather lovely. Warm and sunny days and cool (bordering on chilly) nights are great for those of us of northern English descent. And I've just moved to Carlton, a trendy inner suburb of Melbourne, just north of the CBD (I'm not explaining CBD again - if you haven't remembered by now then you haven't been paying enough attention). I'm housesitting for one of my authors and her house is fantastic - very contemporary with cool decor, and in a perfect location, just north of the Melbourne Museum and Carlton Gardens and five minutes from happening Brunswick and Gertrude streets.

And what's the only cloud on this horizon? Well, it looks like my faithful companions since last December (in fact I haven't been seen without them since then) will soon be saying their adieu. I am, of course, talking about my shorts. They've served me well these last four months or so but I think it might be time to get the full-length trousers on. I'm aiming to stick with the shorts until the end of the month but these chilly nights are making this less and less likely. Sigh. And the worse thing is that I won't be able to wear them again until next year when I'm back in the UK, as after winter here I'll be back in London just in time for winter there. Double sigh.

Books
On a lighter note, now I've been in Australia for five months I thought I'd take a quick look back at the books I've read (not many as I'm quite a slow reader). Note they're all about Australia as I aim to read only Australia-set novels this year.

• English Passengers Matthew Kneale (Story about Tasmania, the treatment of its aboriginal population by the first British settlers (horrific) and one Englishman's belief that the Garden of Eden was to be found on the island (his journey doesn't go well).)

• The Slap Cristos Tsiolkas (Famous book by Melbourne author, looking at the modern Australian way of life - though if the characters depicted in this book are representative of Australians then I need to get out of here asap as everyone in it is really rather nasty.

•  Picnic at Hanging Rock Joan Lindsay (Not particularly well written but gripping all the same, this is the well-known (though fictional) story of a picnic that goes wrong.) 

• A Fortunate Life A.B. Facey (Incredible story of one man's life growing up in early 20th century Australia. His tough life - including being injured at Gallipoli - is inspiring. Get a copy.)

• The Secret River Kate Grenville (Beautifully written story about a convict and his wife establishing a life for themselves after being transported to Sydney in the early 19th century.)

And that's it for now. Photos next time!

G'bye
Cliff

Bendigo & Moomba

G'day

No, Bendigo and Moomba is not the name of some In the Night Garden kids' show spin-off, but the two things I did over the weekend.

Bendigo is a lovely old gold mining town, two hours by train northwest of Melbourne. It was having a locust infestation when I was there (been going on for a few months now) but it was still fun strolling the streets, crunching locusts under my feet, admiring the buildings etc. I even went down an old gold mine (but didn't find any gold).

Beautiful Bendigo. Not the best shot (taken on my phone's rubbish camera) but you can see some of the lovely 19th-century buildings built on the back of gold money, and the leafy park in the centre of town.

And Moomba is a festival in Melbourne for which we got Monday off (don't know what the name means but if we get a day off for it that's enough information for me). There was a massive funfair along the banks of the Yarra, plus water skiing competitions, live music and food stalls. Made me think of a TV show last week where a Sydney stand-up comedian was comparing Melbourne and Sydney. As she said, the two cities are like siblings. There's Sydney, the pretty but vacuous one, who doesn't have to do anything but sit back and say "Look how pretty I am". People fall for her instantly but get a bit bored after all. And then there's Melbourne, which might not have Sydney's looks but puts a lot of effort in being interesting, friendly and fun. She takes a while to get to know but it's worth the effort. Moomba was an example of why Melbourne's better than Sydney.

Very poor quality pic I know (blame the phone again) but this is the water skiing on the Yarra (woman just jumping over ramp on the right hand side there), with the city behind.

G'bye.

Cliff

A weekend in Sydney

G'day

So last weekend I headed to Sydney. I'd spent a few weeks there in 1999 so I was interested to see whether I liked it as much now as I did then (in 1999 I hadn't even bothered coming to Melbourne!). There were certain things I wanted to do (see something at the Opera House, swim at Shelly Beach), some things I wasn't sure if I wanted to do (climb the bridge), and recommendations from friends (have a cake at Zumbos) that I was keen to try. In the end I did all these things.

It had been tricky finding somewhere to stay as it was Mardi Gras weekend and everywhere was booked. Luckily the youth hostel had ensuite rooms available and I managed to nab one of those. The location was great (see pic).

The view from my room. The hostel is on stilts as it stands on the foundations of some old houses from the 1820s (I think) so you can see the outline of these old buildings and panels tell you the history.

A workmate had recommended a veggie dumpling place near the cathedral (below) so I decided to heave lunch there as soon as I'd arrived.

St Mary's Cathedral

The healthy bit of the lunch - I'd already spent over $50 on little dumplings.

After that, and despite just wanting to lie down and sleep, I went to the Australia Museum (bit boring) and then wandered round the CBD (city centre). In the evening I went to a famous pie van where they do floaters - not what you might think! I had the veggie floater which is a pie with mash and mushy peas and gravy. A bargain at just $5.50! And then I took a photo of the bridge at night.

I can't decide which shot I prefer so have put both up.

Next day the plan had been to head over to Manly and then stroll along the beach there to another smaller beach, Shelly Beach, which I remembered loving last time. Unfortunately the weather wasn't great so I did a walk through the Botanic Gardens and visited a couple of buildings instead.

Loads of cockatoos. Loud.

The CBD across the Botanic Gardens.

Then I had a wander some of Sydney's other attractions.

The oldest church in Sydney - St James's.

The oldest building in Sydney - Cadman's Cottage.

The Sydney Nolan room at the New South Wales Gallery (he's a famous Aussie artist but I wasn't that impressed)

Saturday night was opera night and I was pretty excited. Carmen has loads of well-known tunes and seeing it at the famous Opera House was going to be a highlight. Which it was. Kind of. The seats in the Opera House were weirdly shallow but comfortable enough. The lead singer playing Carmen was weirdly tall but good enough. The acoustics were great but the volume was very low. Overall it was an experience that didn't quite live up to expectations but maybe my expectations were too high.

Sunday's weather was much better so I decided to catch the ferry over to Manly (so named because when the Europeans saw the aborigines on the beach for the first time they described their physiques as 'manly' - seriously, that's where the name comes from).

On the ferry. North Head (to the left) and South Head are the entrance (or exit!) to Sydney Harbour (officially called Port Jackson)

Manly Beach - lots of manly people doing manly things

Just south of Manly is Shelly Beach. I'd remembered it as being my favourite beach and it just about lived up to the memory. It's sheltered (so no huge waves) and the water was warm-ish and clear.

Just behind Shelly Beach you can walk up through forest and bushland to get this view across the whole of Manly. Last time I was here I walked into a massive spider's web. This time I managed to avoid them - though there were dozens of them and the spiders sitting in the middle of them didn't look too friendly still.

I then headed to a famous Sydney cake maker's new place in Manly where I queued for half an hour - but it was worth it.

This is a Milo 'cake' (Milo is a malt drink, like Ovaltine for non-Aussies, and something I love). There was a layer of Milo biscuit at the bottom, then various creamy/chocolatey layers above containing a huge Milo malteser, then a chocolate shell on the top. And the reason for the straw is because they somehow get some Milo drink into the middle of the whole thing and that's what you have first. Marvellous.

Sunday afternoon was all about the bridge. I took a walk under it and then, at 5pm, went to climb it. Preparations are like a trip into space. First, anything that could fall off you has to be removed - watches, jewellery, even hairclips, as anything falling from the top of the bridge could seriously injure someone below. Next you get kitted out in your unflattering jumpsuit, get your belt fastened, have your radio plugged in - and then your ready for the climb.

I was forced to do the thumbs up! Anyway,this is about halfway. I'd chosen the Discovery Climb which gives you more background on the bridge (like it would take you 5.21 seconds to fall from the top to the water)

Me and the building where the weirdly tall woman had sung the night before. Would you say the jumpsuit was more Blakes Seven or The Crystal Maze?

My group and I reach the top. Stupid waving thing was again enforced and not voluntary.

And that was that. Cunningly I'd timed it so on the way down we had the sunset. And despite having already forked out $208, I decided to fork out even more to get two photos ($35 each!) saved to disc. Unfortunately (or actually fortunately as it turned out), the guy forgot to put the disc into the holder and so when I went back the next day the boss apologised and gave me ALL the photos for the price of the two. Noice.

Then Monday, my final day, was more beaches day. I headed to famous Bondi and was no more impressed with it than in 1999, but following the coast path along from there you get to some lovely little coves.

Bondi. It's ok.

Tamarama beach (right hand side) and Bronte beach (left) - much nicer than Bondi

And that was that. Apart from to say that when two girls on the bridge climb started criticising Melbourne I started defending it. Plus Melburnians are friendlier than Sydneysiders (and Sydneysiders are pretty friendly!). So overall I was glad to be back and maybe I'm beginning to like Melbourne more. Sydney's great to visit. Melbourne's better to live.


Cliff

Tales from Tasmania volume 3

G'day

Final volume of my Tassie trip.

As you may recall, I'd suffered serious injury on the treacherous hike up Cradle Mountain (or to put it less dramatically I'd twisted my side and banged my elbow and knee) but bravely battled on through everything else Tasmania had to throw at me. Good on ya (or on me) as the Aussies would say.

Bay of Fires on the East Coast, so called because the first Europeans to see it noted that the locals lit fires along the shoreline

Is that? Is it Daniel Craig as James Bond? Er, no, it's Cliff smiling despite the fact that the water was bloody cold.

Bay of Fires again

This is Wineglass Bay on the Freycinet Peninsula. I was in two minds about climbing Mount Amos (from where this photo is taken) because my side was hurting and the climb was tough (slippy granite boulders) but despite being seriously scared at some points it was worth it. At least that's what I said when I was safely back down.

This is my first attempt at uploading a video. Not sure its going to work but if it does then it's the view of Wineglass Bay and the Freycinet Peninsula again from the top of Mount Amos.

So we arrived at Port Arthur on the southeast coast of Tassie. This was a settlement built around a prison in the early 1800s. A few of our group decided to do the ghost tour and when the guide asked for volunteers to carry the lanterns I nominated myself. When she asked if I believed in ghosts I said 'No' which is when she decided to give me the special task of going into each of the building's on the tour first. On my own. To check if there were any ghosts. Obviously there weren't and that smile is not a nervous grin.

The last building on the tour was the Separate Prison. This was where the really bad criminals were sent and locked up in solitary for upto 18 months - you can see the cell doorways in the photo. Many of them went insane and this part of Port Arthur is supposed to be the most haunted. It's so bad that the guide said she never sends the lantern holder in on their own - which sounded like a challenge to me! I had to open one door and close it behind me; walk along a dark corridor; open another door and enter into the central hall of the block, with the rows of cells leading off on either side.It wasn't really any scarier than the other buildings I'd gone into on my own (the worst thing that happened in any of them was when I walked into a huge spider's web) but after all the stories she'd told I was a litte bit on edge - and the fact that she left me in there alone for a good few minutes didn't help (I did consider hiding in one of the cells to freak the guide out).

Having survived the ghost tour the next day we explored the coastline near Port Arthur where there are some spectacular caves. This one is so spectacular it's actually called Spectacular Cave and the best bit is that the shape of Tasmania is outlined at the end of it from certain angles. Can you tell what it is yet? as Rolf might say.

We then took a boat trip out along the coast where the water was the cleanest and clearest I've ever seen.

Along the way we saw these cliffs - the highest in the southern hemisphere (allegedly)

And Tasman Island - there's a lighthouse at the top there. Honestly.

And a massive seal colony. All males. Quite smelly. We also saw dolphins but they're a bit too quick for photos.

And then back on dry land we visited the Tasmanian Devil Conservation Centre. These things are cute but endangered because of an incurable disease that causes facial tumours so bad that they stop being able to eat and die.

What's that Skippy? A ginger pom's trying to take your photo, you say?

And so back in Hobart where the Wooden Boats Festival was taking place. I'm not normally interested in boats but this was rather interesting and there was a great atmosphere too. I love Hobart!

Just north of Hobart is MONA - the Museum of Old and New Art. It was created by an eccentric millionaire and only opened in January 2011. The best way to get there is by luxury ferry and this shot is just before we docked.

The mix of old and new art inside means you get some, er, unusual displays. There might be an Eygptian mummy in one room followed by an Aztec vase. The display above is called Cloaca. If you know your Latin you might be able to guess what it's all about. For those with limited Latin I'll explain (in the nicest possible way) that the above is the human digestive system as art. Food enters the left hand side and then works its way through the different sections, being 'digested' until the whole thing 'goes to the toilet' once a day on the right hand side. I didn't spend very long in there as it smelt worse than the seals.

And that's it for now. Off to Sydney the first weekend in March so check back after then for the latest installment - unless something exciting happens in the meantime!

G'bye.

Cliff

Tales from Tasmania volume 2

G'day

Hopefully you enjoyed the first installment of Tales from Tasmania - if not, you probably want to stop reading now. If you did, then read on as there's plenty more to tell (and plenty more photos for those of you with short attention spans).

So we'd arrived in Strahan for the first night and to put off the dreaded sharing a dorm with complete strangers I suggested we went out for a bike ride (free with the hostel) to search out platypuses. The plan was for maybe a couple of people to come along and scour the riverbanks but in the end around a dozen fellow travellers came along, making loads of noise and reducing our chances of seeing an elusive platypus (they're very shy) to zero. And so it turned out.

The whole sharing a dorm wasn't as bad I'd thought though, though the snoring from one of the guys was so loud it sounded like a wild animal had broken into the room and was trying to get back out. Next morning it was a slow, tired start but we were soon on the road again and discovering more of Tassie's wonderful sights.

Ocean Beach, Tassie's west coast. Nothing between this beach and Argentina, thousands of miles across the Southern Ocean. I'm actually pointing out Argentina but you can't really see it.

Henty Dunes. Massive sand dunes north of Ocean Beach. The bits of wood are trees from the surrounding forest that have already been swallowed up by the sand.

Indiana Wilkinson takes to the slightly wobbly bridge over the gorge by Montezuma Falls

Montezuma Falls, as seen from the slightly wobbly bridge. The walk there was through a lovely rain forest in which it was, appropriately, raining.

Cliff at the beginning of the hike up Cradle Mountain (in the mist behind). Before he fell of a boardwalk along the way and twisted a muscle in his side. And banged his elbow. And broke his watch which fell off into a puddle but he didn't realise for twenty minutes and then had to go back to fish it out of the puddle. Enough to wipe that grin off my face.

Getting closer to the top (actually, we were aiming for the saddle in the middle, so kind of to the left of that tree that's sticking up)

View across Dove Lake towards the start of the walk. I didn't have any suncream on my legs (it hadn't looked like it was going to be sunny) so ended up with highly unattractive two-tone legs where the socks stopped and the tanning started.

View from the saddle looking south. No humans in sight.

Human ruins view across previously human-free panorama.

Did I really climb that?

Yes, I did. Cliff at the end of the hike up Cradle Mountain.

Sheffield, Tasmania. Famous for solitary clouds and murals (mostly the latter really, which all started when they wanted to encourage tourism to the town so began adding murals all over the place. Now there are dozens and an annual competition, and tourism is booming). The mural above is actually the view you could have for real (minus Victorians in period costume) if you just look a bit more to the right. Nice though.

And that was the end of Days 2 and 3 - pretty exhausting (and painful!) but pretty good fun too.


Volume 3 soon - but g'bye for now!

Cliff