Words from the Bush

Please Vote for Me

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 31 Jan 2011 06:46:00 +0000

Dear all,

Like a bad dream I AM BACK. As mentioned earlier I am trying to establish myself in a new career as a writer. It's going to be a long slog, but the most important thing is going to be ensuring that I do lots of writing along the way. I have discovered this great competition from lastminute.com who are looking for travel writers in return for free stuff. Sounds good to me - I get to practice writing and we can experience some new adventures on someone elses dime (always good news for a starving writer).

Anyway, it's been the feedback from this blog that has inspired me to try writing, so I'm hoping you will all be happy to vote for me.

Click on the link below, fill in your details and hit VOTE.

http://www.freestuffforayear.com.au/entries/11-01-31/NSW/Stephanie

Thanks a million! (Oh, and please feel free to pass this on to your friends and family - I need all the votes I can get.)

The Last Word

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 05 Dec 2010 10:03:00 +0000

We are ensconced in our new home near the beach. Most of our furniture is organized (with the usual one room piled with the stuff we can’t yet figure out where to put). The camp trailer has been sold at the price we wanted. Dennis has already started a job 3-days a week at a local resort. I’ve started doing swim squads two nights a week, found a hairdresser I really like and had lunch with my first new friend today. I think we can officially say that we now live in Coffs Harbour.

Before we completely leave our travelling days behind we need to “close off” the blog and share with you our “best of” awards. Being us, we have about 50 categories for our awards, but we will only burden you with the results in two categories that we think you might find interesting and informative. For the winners in other categories all you really need to do is give us a couple of drinks and get us talking about the trip – and you’ll be sorry you asked!

TOP TEN THINGS WE WOULD RECOMMEND YOU SEE/DO IN AUSTRALIA

1. Stay in a private campsite at El Questro on the Gibb River Road in the Kimberley

2. Walk through the gorges at Karajini National Park in the Pilbara

3. Jet boat through the Horizontal Falls in the Buchaneer Archipelago off the Kimberley

4. Swim in the falls at Lawn Hill National Park in the Gulf Country

5. Go barramundi fishing on the Daly River in the Territory

6. Follow the Gulf Track around the Gulf of Carpenteria

7. Attend the Anzac Day Service at the war memorial at Adelaide River in the Territory

8. Walk around Ayers Rock at Uluru

9. Sit by the fire at Comeroo Cattle Station north of Burke NSW

10. Camp underground at Coober Pedy SA

TOP TEN THINGS WE STILL WANT TO SEE/DO IN AUSTRALIA

1. Swim with the whale sharks in Exmouth WA

2. Walk to the Mitchell Plateau in the Kimberley and helicopter back

3. Drive the Birdsville and Strezleki track loop and stop at all the outback pubs

4. Drive across the Simpson Desert

5. Camp and 4WD on Fraser Island

6. Take the Ghan railway from Alice Springs to Darwin

7. Play in the Masters Games at Alice Springs

8. Go to the rodeo at Mt Isa

9. Drive the Old Telegraph Track to the tip of Cape York

10. Visit the Top End in the wet season

It’s been an amazing year and a half. We’ve seen great beauty and vast, ugly emptiness; experienced terrible tragedy and found joy in surprising corners; been close to killing each other and discovered new depths of love and understanding; met incredibly interesting people, salt of the earth okkers and absolute f-wits; felt the sun at our backs, the rain on our faces and the wind seem to blow right through us. We have also removed the blinders of our day to day life and discovered new directions that will lead to new adventures. I can’t tell you what a good decision we made embarking on this journey.

Before we left Melbourne someone commented “I don’t think that I could just stop my life for a year like that”. As it turns out life is everywhere – not just in the office or the family living room. This has been a year of finding, celebrating and living life. What a gift!

I must add a small postscript to this conclusion of the blog. Many people are asking what I’m going to do with myself next. The simple answer is that I’m not sure. But I do have an idea….. I’ve learned a couple of important things on this trip. First, I really like writing. Second, there are some pretty amazing stories out there that never seem to get recorded. So what I am going to try to do is create a business that pulls together histories of family businesses. So much of a person’s heart and soul goes into creating a business. It doesn’t seem enough just to pass on the business to the next generation – you need to pass on the stories as well. The idea is completely in its infancy and I still need to get past the biggest hurdle which is believing in myself as a writer. But, I do know how to start a business, and I think there’s another one in me. Watch this space.

And, for the final word, with the final golf report…..here’s Dennis!
The final stats are: golf handicap got worse +3, trip kilometers 60,000, cost ? highlights- many, the best voted highlight of the tour was the Barra fishing on the Daly River and the week at El Questro or EQ as the sign says. A wonderful year and a great experience, for those thinking about the big trip around Aus, do it now, you won’t regret it, and tell em that you know Stephanie and Dennis and you are guaranteed a beer and laugh. Until next time, love to all Dennis .

Thank you all for reading! We’ve loved sharing the journey!

NEWS FLASH: Found a Home!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 17 Nov 2010 03:36:00 +0000

We are extremely excited to report that our camping days are numbered. As of Monday we will officially reside at #2 Timbertops Drive, Diggers Beach. The house is lovely, with plenty of plenty of space inside and out. It's about a 2 minute walk to the beach, across the road from resort with a lovely cafe overlooking the beach and a day spa, and within walking or cycling distance of just about everything Coffs has to offer.

In fact.....the place is a bloody mansion and we can only really justify the cost if we have plenty of visitors. We are counting on all of you to try out the guest bedrooms!

CHOOSING A NEW HOME

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 14 Nov 2010 05:57:00 +0000

For those that may not have heard….we have a winner! Dennis and I have become residents of the Coffs Coast – the call of the Big Banana being impossible to resist!

This changing your life business is not for the faint-hearted! We made our decision 5 days ago, arrived in Coffs 3 days ago and already I am plagued with doubts about our decision. It’s quite a culture shock! When I get tired I find myself wondering why I keep doing this to myself, but then we get up early and go for a walk on the beach in the glorious morning sun and everything feels right again.

We are trying to rent a house without much luck, and in the meantime we reside in the Sawtell Caravan Park. Love Sawtell….great beach, great little village. But honestly, I’m over living in a camp trailer. I long for the day when I can wake up in the middle of the night for a pee and not have to walk through the rain to get to the toilet block. It doesn’t seem like a lot to ask!

I’ve provided a summary of the decision making process at the end just in case anyone else out there is thinking about moving to the NSW coast. If you are actually planning to fully retire up here I would say you can’t go past Yamba. As you will note, it didn’t actually get full consideration simply because it is geographically awkward being midway between Ballina and Coffs. For us, the difficulty in getting in and out of Sydney and Melbourne didn’t suit, but if you’re just looking for the quiet life, or you love sailing, fishing or other water sports, this would be my recommendation – absolutely picture perfect! And now, a few words from Dennis (who has already started filling in his membership forms for the Coffs Harbour Golf Club)….

The NSW coast region is great with an easy going lifestyle and lots of outdoor activities, beach, walks fishing, swimming etc. Starting a new life in a new location certainly has its challenges and we are certainly getting our fair share here in looking for housing, I’m quite sure that we will find the right place in time as the adventure continues.

WHERE TO NEXT REPORT

This provides an overview of our rating on each area. Please refer to the front page, right hand column of the blog (www.wordsfromthebush.blogspot.com) for the criteria.

Byron and environs

We checked out most places from Ballina to Tweed Heads and inland as far as Lismore. The area scores well in terms of access to Melbourne: two airports to choose from (Coolangatta and Ballina) and plenty of cheap flights. The golf courses rated well, as did access to activities for me, and there are certainly plenty of cafes nearby. Where this area fell short was in affordability, demographics and traffic. It was school holidays and there were a lot of roadworks, so perhaps the traffic isn’t always bad – but it was certainly unacceptable when we were there. The housing that was in our price range was largely in new developments that made us feel like we were in Caroline Springs, not a coastal paradise. And the demographics were all wrong: too many backpackers in some places, too many retirees in others, too many holiday rentals just about everywhere.

The area also fell short in the “Feels Right” measure. This is the criterion that we added to cover all the things about a place to live that we couldn’t seem to put into words. It gives each of us the opportunity to veto a place without having to find the right words to explain our discomfort. We both agreed that this area didn’t feel right. While we loved some of the hinterland areas like Bangalow – we quickly realized that the leap from a major urban centre to a sleepy rural hollow was too great for us. Brunswick Heads on the coast is a perfect holiday spot (when the sun comes out) but it’s a place to which one escapes, not a place to create a new life.

FINAL SCORE: 6/10

Coffs and environs

My oldest Australian friend, Mark, and his wife Emma, live in Coffs so we had the benefit of knowledgeable guides in assessing this area. We rambled up and down the coast from Woolgoolga to Urunga and inland to Bellingen. Coffs itself is bigger than we remembered, with pretty much all the amenities you would need. The airport is central and easy to get to, but it loses points for frequency and affordability of direct flights to Melbourne and Sydney. There are a number of good golf courses, and one “top 50” course and plenty of outdoor activities for me. There are little beachside villages with great cafes, and in Sawtell there’s even a local cinema with international films so that box is ticked. The housing is well within our price range in the areas that we liked. The demographics are balanced, albeit relatively blue collar, with above average unemployment. There are plenty of small businesses, a university – this is a place where people live, not just a holiday joint. There can be traffic build ups on the Pacific Highway, but overall it rates well in the traffic jam department. Big bonus points were scored in the “people we love already live there” criteria. With Mark and Emma in town, plus other friends Anna and Neil close by in Bellingen, Coffs already feels a bit like home.

FINAL SCORE: 8.5/10

Port Stephens

This area is the Mornington Peninsula of NSW. Within 1.5 hours drive of Sydney this is where rich, overworked Sydneysiders come to play, relax and retire. It rates very high on cheap and frequent access to Sydney and Melbourne, has great golf courses and is within easy reach of Newcastle with all its amenities. Dennis rated the golf courses very highly and the surrounds offered good opportunities for other outdoor pursuits. Housing is more affordable than you might expect as the global financial crisis has meant many Sydneysiders had to sell off those second homes. Except in Nelson Bay itself the housing felt quite suburban and somewhat bereft of the village life we were seeking, and Nelson Bay suffers from having only one way in or out, meaning traffic jams during peak holiday periods. The demographics do not seem as diverse as we wanted with too much emphasis on retirement and tourism.

It has to be said that Dennis liked this area far better than I did. We think this is because he is starting to relate to the idea of being retired – and it certainly would be a lovely place to slow down. But I’m not ready to retire so was unable to give Port Stephens the “feels right” tick.

FINAL SCORE: 7.5/10

Newcastle

We had received rave reviews about Newcastle from various friends and were looking forward to exploring the city. It is absolutely ideal in terms of access to Sydney and Melbourne. The city is remarkably attractive, with lovely old buildings and an attractive sea frontage. Certainly plenty of cafes, cinemas etc and it’s very centrally located to access Port Stephens and the Hunter with all their golf, outdoor activities, food and wine. It’s really quite an exciting little city and I commend it to everyone for a visit (apparently it scored in the Lonely Planet Top 10 Cities for 2011).

However, both Dennis and I had exactly the same reaction – this feels just like Abbotsford, and why would we move away from friends and family to live in another Abbotsford? Moving here felt like it would be a change of address not a change of lifestyle.

FINAL SCORE: 7/10

ON HOMELESSNESS, FAMILY AND ADRENALIN

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 04 Nov 2010 09:28:00 +0000

Just when you thought it was safe to open your inbox….the blog is back!! Our travelling days may be over, but we have decided to continue documenting our adventures up until we have a new address.
Having ignored the blog for over a month it is difficult to know where to begin to retell our adventures and how to keep this from becoming a boring inventory of each day’s events. So, I have decided to limit myself to the really big themes:

Life at No Fixed Address

We have started the search for a new hometown, having spent 10 days each in the Byron and Coffs areas. Full reports will follow on both areas, but in the meantime, following several requests, we have published both our Must Have and our Nice to Have criteria lists used to assess each area’s potential. You can find these on the front page of the blog (www.wordsfromthebush.blogspot.com) and no doubt will find them quite telling (or at least good for a laugh).

Although little changed in many ways, there seemed to be a sharp divide between the carefree gypsy life that ended where we left off in the last blog, and our “life between lives” that commenced with our arrival in Byron. Suddenly being of “no fixed address” seemed less cool & carefree and more unstable & dislocated. The sense of self that had been invested in being “travelers” was gone almost overnight and I for one felt quite disconcerted by the sudden lack of purpose and identity.

The feeling was made all the more disheartening by the weather, which for over two weeks offered up daily doses of rain or showers accompanied on occasions by a chilly wind. It was so bad that we actually abandoned the camper and moved into a cabin…..totally whimpish behavior, but a clear sign that it’s time to return to the “real world”.

Family Vacation

Stephanie & family

Right in the middle of our identity crisis arrives FAMILY. My mother arrived at the beginning of October and spent a couple of weeks with us in Byron and Coffs picking out the best spot for a granny flat. Then in mid-October we headed up to Noosa for the arrival of my sister’s family from England and Dennis’s mother Rose and daughter Renee from Melbourne. We all convened in a very grand house in Little Cove, Noosa for the “family vacation”.

By some sort of miracle the rain stopped and the sun appeared on the very day we arrived in Noosa. Our spirits lifted tremendously, and we avoided having to put up with a bunch of whinging Poms!

Rose enjoys the high life!

Rose and Renee only stayed with us for 3 nights – but I think their visit was a huge success and will kick off Rose’s new life as an adventurous traveler and socialite. She had fun and I can’t tell you how funny her stories were!

The highlight for me, of course, was the opportunity to spend time with my beautiful nieces, Lucy and Emma. Honestly, they are a tribute to my sister, Julie. Both are so attractive, intelligent, warm and fun (girls, if you are reading this you can also be moody and difficult so don’t let this go to your heads too much). I can report that there is no better cure for a sense of lost identity then to hug people you love, so it was a real treat to have my family with us at this time.

Thrills, Spills and Adrenalin

Somehow in 2 short weeks we managed to pack in an awful lot of adrenalin junkie behavior (all part of my endeavour to be recognized as a wild and crazy aunt).

Lucy & I graduate in diving

First, Lucy and I had arranged to take our Scuba Diving certificate. This was something that Lucy really wanted to do, and I signed up to share the experience with her – despite problems with my ears, a complete dread of sharks (can’t get the music to Jaws out of my head when within 3 metres of the ocean), and pretty pathetic swimming skills. The course was 3 days long with the first day in the pool and the second 2 days in the ocean. I managed to get through the 200m swim without stopping – although Lucy swam breast stroke so I wouldn’t come in too far behind (bless her!) – and passed the first day in the pool. I spent most of the first open water day throwing up and swimming in my own vomit. The visibility on the second open water day was 2m, so it was difficult to even see the fins of the person swimming in front of you. However, we both passed and in the end I actually enjoyed it. Many people have told me that I should take up meditation and I think diving could be a good form of meditation for me. Once you get past the fear (which takes some doing) it is remarkably relaxing. Weightless, silent and breathing deeply – even without anything to see the experience was strangely peaceful.

Emma learns to surf

While Lucy and I were scuba diving, Emma and Chris (Julie’s partner) took to the water to learn how to surf. Chris just about knocked himself out and retired somewhat the worse for wear. Emma took to surfing like a duck to water – I think it has something to do with fearlessness.

Meanwhile, Dennis went horseback riding with Holly - more in his section of the blog.

Then, of course, there was Movie World where we took to the rides. I think the star performer here was my mother. Granny endured the scarey Scooby Doo ride and although she looked somewhat blanched by the end, she was pretty impressed with her own daring!

And the piece de resistance in the adrenalin department has to go to jumping out of a perfectly good plane at 12000 feet. Emma and I did a tandem jump on the Gold Coast. It took two days of flying over the jump spot to get the right weather, but finally we were hurled out the door, freefalled for seeming ages and then sailed slowly to the ground once the shoot had opened. It’s certainly a thrill – but I actually found the diving scarier because I had to be responsible for myself. Having said that, I don’t think there can be anything quite like hanging half way out of a plane waiting to jump.

So that’s it. I’m exhausted and even starting to think that perhaps I’m getting too old to be having this much fun. We’re heading toward Newcastle and Port Stephens for our final locality assessment so watch this space! Meanwhile, over to Dennis for a different perspective.

Dennis & Holly ride on the beach

Well how do you compete with that?? Part of my job with the Pommies was to take Holly, Chris’s daughter , horse riding. She was great and I had not been on a horse for 40 years apart from the short ride at Diggers Rest (reported in an earlier blog) riding on the sands and on the beach just north of Noosa was magnificent and the gallop at the end. Golf was great and Mike Hall joined Chris and I at Coolum, again Mike won the money and the Competition of the day. We caught up with Mike and Odette for a drink as they were staying over for the weekend and then were invited for dinner at their home on the Gold Coast the following week to a magnificent BBQ and a look at their fantastic home (I could live there Stephanie) The other highlight for me was my Mother and Renee coming up to Noosa for a few days, we had a lovely big house that we had rented and mum thought she was in Hollywood living like the stars, Renee was really great with Mum and we all had fun.

Stephanie has covered most other subjects including the search for a place to live so I will sign off, wherever we end up on the NSW coast will be a continuation of the adventure, until next time……….

OUTBACK QUEENSLAND: A Brief History of the Last 95 Million Years

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 28 Sep 2010 00:14:00 +0000

We have escaped from Carnarvon Gorge and are now driving toward the Gold Coast – a return to the “big smoke”. But, I must now take you back a week or so to our quick, but surprisingly interesting, look at Outback Queensland life – now and in ages past. Our travels took us from Mt Isa to Winton, Cloncurry, Longreach and Barcaldine.

Let’s start our story 95 million years ago, and go from there. I hope my nephews Nico and Lucas are reading this, because we’re going to talk about dinosaurs! About 100k south of Winton is Lark Quarry, which is the site of the only known remnants of a dinosaur stampede. One fine day 95million years ago, some Skartopus Australis (grass eating dinosaurs about the size of a chicken) came down to the waterhole to drink. They were joined by a number of Wintonopus Latomorum (meat eating dinosaurs the size of an emu). Everyone was quietly enjoying the day, having a good drink and a spot of grass or small lizard in the mud at the edge of the water. Meanwhile, in the background came lumbering past a Tyranosaurpus (a huge sucker, closely related to the famed T-Rex). He spots the herds down by the water and thinks “LUNCH”. His pace increases, as he reaches the mud the alarm goes up and the stampede is on. Not long after flooding and sediment cover up the site and the footprints of hundreds of dinosaurs are locked into the mud until they are uncovered by a station owner, dug up by paeliantologists and become the inspiration for the stampede scene in Stephen Spielberg’s Jurassic Park.

Moving forward 75 million years or so, we also visited the Riversleigh museum where many of the fossils found at Riversleigh, about 250k northwest of Mt Isa are displayed. The dinosaurs are gone, Gondwana has separated from the rest of the world and some weird and wonderful marsupials are developing – like the giant meat-eating kargaroo, mega-wombats and emus, marsupial lions and, of course, the cleaver-headed crocodile – just as deadly as our current species but even uglier. The Riversleigh site is extremely important to paleontologists. Something in the order of 50% of the known ancestral species in Australia has been discovered at this site and the digging continues. We met a paleontologist at the museum and his entire focus, for the last 28 years, has been studying the snake species dug up at Riversleigh. He spends hours and hours and hours uncovering snake vertebrae from solid rock and then painstakingly trying to piece them together. As careers go this is a bit too narrow for me, but it seemed to suit the man in question.

We skip forward another 20 million years – conveniently missing the entire period of aboriginal domination in Australia – to the last 2 centuries and the coming of the Europeans. Enter the cattlemen and sheep barons seeking wealth on the rich grasslands of central Queensland. Famous names such as Sydney Kidman and Patsy Durack made their millions in this part of the world – and it quickly became home to sheep shearers, stockmen and frontiersmen (and women, although they were fewer and further between). Much of modern-day Australia’s idea of itself seems to stem from these parts.

Take for example, Barcaldine, which we drove through on the way to Longreach. This was the site of the Great Shearers Strike in 1891, which – unbeknownst to me until 2 days ago – was to be the start of the current Australian Labour Party. The shearers held their strike meeting under the shade of an old gum tree that became known as the “Tree of Knowledge”. Unfortunately this tree died, and what you can see today is a rather shriveled looking clone – could this be the root of Julia’s current problems?

Or, consider the Waltzing Mathilda museum in Winton (where Banjo Patterson first performed his famous ballad). Not surprisingly this is the only museum in the world dedicated to a single song – which gives you some idea of the significance of this humble tune to the Australian psyche. Some enormous proportion of the population believes even now that Waltzing Mathilda should be our national anthem. But, let’s consider what this song is about: A hobo sits by a waterhole making tea when he sees a nice fat sheep, which he proceeds to steal, stuffing it into his knapsack. Suddenly the sheep’s owner, accompanied by the police, shows up and challenges the hobo. Rather than go to prison for theft the hobo drowns himself in the waterhole. What do you suppose the popularity of this song says about Australians? Dennis thinks that it speaks of the Australian love of freedom – they would rather die than be shackled or imprisoned. Of course it could also say something about the basic criminal nature of Australians, or perhaps their inbred aversion to authority figures. But personally, I think it simply says that most Australians don’t really understand what the song’s about!

Consider also the entrepreneurialism that sprouted from this area. Of course there were many who made their fortunes on the land – but it was not only the pastoralists that had the vision and fortitude to build great things. Qantas Airlines had its start here with the first flight being from Longreach to Winton in 1921 and the first board meeting held in the pub at Winton. Qantas was started by two ex-servicemen who saw the need for air service to open up the outback and to provide services to the existing pastoralists. From recognizing a need, to handling short hop outback flights and government mail contracts, Qantas grew to become our national carrier (and one of the last remaining profitable airlines in the world).

But the best entrepreneurial story by far is that of the Royal Flying Doctors Service, which was started in Cloncurry thanks entirely to the vision of Father John Flynn. A Presbyterian missionary, John Flynn recognized that people in remote parts of the outback were dying simply because they did not have fast enough access to medical help. Like many a good entrepreneur he had the vision, but not much else. He had no money, no plane had ever been built that was suitable to transport critically ill patients, no radio system was available that could affordably be installed and powered in remote communities, no way existed to safely administer medicines without a doctor at the scene. By sheer force of will and personality; John Flynn got the money, persuaded the young men at Qantas to donate a plane and modify it so it could safely transport a patient on a stretcher, inspired a young engineer to develop a radio system that would operate on pedal power and developed the idea of a standard issue medical chest with all instruments and medicines numbered, enabling doctors to give clear instructions to a lay person by radio. This service has saved so many lives and is still a very treasured part of the outback way of life. While the government now subsidises the Royal Flying Doctors, it took the efforts of one entrepreneur and not the federal government to make a truly meaningful change to the lives of regional Australians. Julia, are you listening?!

And that about brings us to today, when Outback Queensland is still cattle country, but also survives on mining and tourism. We skipped the mining tours, but it’s impossible to miss mining altogether if you visit Mt Isa because the mine is at the heart of the city. Tourism is really well done here I must say – I feel we’ve come away with a much better understanding of the history and culture of outback Queensland. And now our outback days are really over and the coast and a new life beckon.

Well done Stephanie, another great edition. Not much left for me only to add to the sports section, we visited Mt Isa, who should be born here, none other than Greg Norman and also the well know Tennis player Pat Rafter. This mining town produced many other sports stars including rugby players, so it says volumes for life growing up in the bush, I got the impression that Mt Isa is more than a huge copper mine it’s a huge way of life. We also visited 2 demonstrations by stockmen with working dogs on sheep and ducks, horses and bullock wagon, a snake handler and the whip cracking champion. I have included a photo of me and the whip cracker (glad he was the world champion). (Note from Stephanie - sorry the photo is not that great, but I'm having trouble with adding photos for some reason. But I can report that it was absolutely hilarious to watch Dennis standing in the middle of the ring with a stick of celery hanging out of his mouth while the whip cracker gradually whittled away the celery.)

We are on the way to the coast now and to start the process of finding a new home, we have drawn up our list of the 10 must haves and the 10 like to haves so it is going to be interesting to see where this takes us. Over the next month we will be joined by a number of family members and catch up with a few friends so the pace is likely to quicken a little.

PS/ We were given a real lesson in 4WD safety while at Carnarvon Gorge. While we were trapped inside the National Park, unbeknownst to us there were others stuck on the other side of the overflowing creeks trying to get in. One of those was a 20 year old Queensland cowboy with a white Hilux Ute, a pretty girlfriend and far more testosterone than brains. He decided to cross the road when the waters were over 1.2M and flowing very fast. Apparently it took a total of 30 seconds for the creek to pick up the ute, sweep it a few meters down stream then tip and sink. If the young man hadn’t had his window open they would have drowned as the doors seized up and they both needed to squeeze out the partially opened driver’s window. Very lucky that both came away with their lives – but the young man has yet to fully feel the financial suffering. First, it was his boss’s car. Second, he was driving on a closed road so he will be fined $1200 per wheel (ie/ $4,800 total) and the insurance won’t cover any of the repairs. Yikes! It doesn’t pay to be a cowboy. (Ricky and Yvonne, are you paying attention?)

A Gorge Too Far!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 25 Sep 2010 01:15:00 +0000

Carnarvon Gorge - the place where we finally decided we are gorged out. It's supposed to be one of the most beautiful gorges in Queensland, but we have felt pretty ho hum about the place from the moment we arrived. Our attitude cannot be entirely blamed on the place - the incessant drizzle, the fact that it's school holidays and everywhere is teaming with small people with far too much energy have certainly played their part in our inability to appropriately appreciate the grandeur of the place.

Now, after 12 months of ducking and weaving to avoid bad weather and road closures, Carnarvon Gorge has dealt us the final insult. After torrential rain most of the night, we got up this morning, packed up our very wet tent and prepared to go.....only to be informed that we are trapped here for at least the next 24 hours as the road out is closed due to flooding. It could be worse: we have power, there are showers, we have enough food to last another 4 days and there is still plenty of gin left in the bottle. But on the down side, Dennis is running low on beer and so far even Radio Australia doesn't seem to be calling the AFL Grand Final.

A full report on the Queensland Outback will follow as soon as we make our escape. But I thought you'd all want to receive this breaking news. (Mum, don't worry, we will definately be in Brisbane by the time your plane lands!)

The Bitch is Back

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 16 Sep 2010 09:41:00 +0000

No, the title of this chapter does not refer to my sudden return to ill-tempered, cantankerous ways of old (although Dennis seems to think that I have been a bit of a pain lately). Nor does it refer to the pending arrival in Australia of Dennis’s mother-in-law (Mum, we are genuinely looking forward to seeing you). In fact, “bitch” refers to the bitumen – eg tarmac, paved road. We have left the dirt roads behind us, and the rest of our trip will be on smooth, wide and paved highways. Somehow this seems to mark the beginning of the end of our journey.
Although we have plenty still to look forward to, I must admit to a certain sadness in leaving the remote and lonely places that the dirt roads traverse. The night before last we ventured off the main road between Normanton and Cloncurry to camp beside the Leichhardt River near Lake Julius. We were completely on our own with the river, the stars, the birds (and quite a lot of cow dung). It was magic and one of the discoveries that define the very best of travelling on the dirt. I am really going to miss the miles and miles of red dirt, the whistling kites and wide open skies. I am going to miss the “us” we become when sharing those spaces.

Steph on Nicholson River

It has taken us almost 3 weeks to complete the journey around the Gulf of Carpentaria and although this may not be the remotest we have been it is certainly the longest we have stayed bush. Almost the entire time has been on dirt road, often very corrugated, with numerous river and creek crossings. We didn’t see a decent supermarket once we left Katherine, so supplies, especially gluten free stuff, got pretty low (good thing Dennis caught some fish in Karumba). We pretty much missed the entire “hung parliament” debacle with no access to the newspaper, not even yesterday’s, and pretty thin radio reception – in some places we couldn’t even pick up Radio Australia on shortwave. We have loved it!!

We arrived in Mt Isa yesterday – and it seems incredibly cosmopolitan. They have THREE major supermarkets, with heaps of fresh food and gluten free sections. The diesel costs $1.26 a litre instead of $2.50. You can buy today’s newspaper today and pay only the price on the front of the paper (mind you, the paper doesn’t arrive until noon). It’s amazing the little things we don’t appreciate as much as we should.

Canoeing at Lawn Hill

Between Borroloola, where we last left you, and Mt Isa there have been two major highlights. The first was Lawn Hill Gorge in Budjamulla National Park. I know you are thinking, “not another gorge, don’t they do anything but go to one gorge after another?” I sympathise, but this one was special. In the middle of all those miles and miles of red dirt and spinifex, suddenly appears this tropical oasis. Permanent water in the Gregory River has kept a tiny outpost of the rainforest that once covered Queensland. We spent our days canoeing, walking and swimming through the forests of pandanus, lovely waterfalls and red cliff faces.

Gulf Classic Winner!

The other highlight was Karumba – a tiny town right on the Gulf of Carpentaria. It’s actually the ONLY place right on the Gulf, so in all this time in “Gulf Country” this was our first time on the gulf itself. There isn’t much in Karumba except fishing and prawning (although the port is also a hub for live cattle export). Needless to say that meant another fishing charter and yet another fishing challenge – the “Gulf Classic” this time. You will note that the Gulf Classic did not make the headlines in this blog, so perhaps you have already guessed that I lost badly. I caught only small sharks, about 20 of them, and nothing at all that we could keep. Dennis was the clear winner with 3 keepers – Blue Nose Salmon (in no way related to what a Canadian would call salmon).

Over and out from me, but I’m sure the winner of the Gulf Classic will want to add a few words.

Thanks Steph for allowing me a few words, my first word is Karumba, what a great place where we spent a few days, on the fishing trip we met Lee and Iveta, two likeminded souls who we spent more time with eating our catch and sharing some wine and travel stories. The fishing was really good with lots of catch and some great memories on the Gulf. The other big sporting story from the weekend was the golf, Karumba has a Golf course with no grass on the tees, no grass on the fairways and no grass on the greens, Sunday morning at 7.45 and a group of 8 of us presented for the challenge. 9 holes in the heat of the morning and I played with 3 guys from all over Queensland mostly miners and a supplier to the mines, again great people who provided plenty of insight into life on the Gulf. At the presentation ceremony at 10.30 a.m. with a couple of beers (I swear I cannot remember having a beer on Sunday morning for 35 years) the captain of the club gave out the prizes. Yours truly received a golf ball for runner up and another for the longest drive, I felt very welcome and this is perhaps the main reason to play this game, the people that you meet.

Many years ago I lived in Townsville and one weekend Mt Isa came to town for the Rugby league with the slogan “up the Isa”, my memory of those times isn’t great however I first heard of the Isa and today we are here learning about its history and one of the biggest mines in the world. This is a special place and the sign driving in says “when you have been to Mt Isa you are a real Australian” so I guess we have made it.

Now its on to more of the Queensland outback, we have washed the car twice in 2 days and still the red dirt keeps coming out of it, I’m sure the car will be happy on the bitch.

The Gulf Report

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 02 Sep 2010 08:55:00 +0000

Hot Springs - YUM

Day 3, Year 2 in our travels. Reporting to you from Lorella Springs Station: a million acre cattle property running to the shores of the Gulf of Carpentaria, north west of Borroloola. Recently returned from a soak in the hot springs. Laundry’s on the line. Planning to cook up some “Teamsters Beef and Beans” in our camp oven in a couple of hours. My life as a little bush wife is nearly complete!

There are starting to be signs that it’s time to return to the “real world”. We met up with our friends Mick and Sylv Hurst in Katherine about a week ago. I was struck by how enthusiastic and excited they were by every little thing. We’ve lost that! I’m starting to genuinely believe that a couple hours rest in the middle of the day is a right, not a privilege. We feel affronted when it rains. In other words, I think we might be starting to take this all a bit for granted. Not to mention – “little bush wife”?????, what’s happened to me?

Having said that, we absolutely love the Gulf Country! It’s a little bit like the Kimberley in that it’s remote, with lovely scenery and amazing waterholes – but unlike the Kimberley the area hasn’t really been affected by mainstream tourism. This is country for fisherfolk – so there are fishing camps lining the Gulf, everything from the very basic beach shack to the ultra-expensive fly in fly out style place for wealthy executives. But you don’t see the usual collection of Germans and Grey Nomads – so there’s a far greater sense of isolation and adventure.

We’ve bush camped at a beautiful lagoon. Spent a couple of nights camped by the river at the Limmen Bight River Fishing Camp – definitely not one of the upmarket camps – marvelously primitive, we even had to pump our own diesel out of the drum to fuel up. And now we are here at Lorella Springs, this stunningly beautiful station, with hot springs, waterholes, fishing - even a nudist camp (apparently I’m not allowed to say anything more about nudity). Tomorrow it’s off to Borroloola – which has a reputation as a rough frontier town, so the adventure continues.

Lost City?

One spectacular highlight of the Gulf region thus far has been the “Lost Cities”. These rock formations are extraordinarily aptly named. Huge towers of red, brown and black sandstone, carved into the oddest and most precarious shapes. Just rocks – but you could swear you had discovered some hidden and very ancient Mayan or Incan city. If you let your imagination go even a little bit you could be walking the abandoned streets of New York long after a holocaust had left the buildings to crumble. Very eerie; particularly as we had the privilege of visiting these places completely on our own. One day the Lost Cities will be as famous as Ayers Rock, cost a fortune to enter and you’ll have to stick to the specially marked path or take the $1000 helicopter tour. We look forward to being able to regale Dennis’s grandchildren with stories of how we wandered through the Lost Cities on our own.

Good to be with friends!

Now, I must go back a week or so and report how fantastic it was to meet up with Mick and Sylv in Katherine. The Hursts are doing a two week tour of the Top End in their rented camper/ motorhome and we were lucky enough to be in the area. Their enthusiasm was infectious, their wine was flowing and, as usual, Mick cooked up some fabulous steak. Best of all, they were staying in a great caravan park where every campsite has its own “ensuite” toilet and shower – such luxury!!
We can also thank Mick and Sylv for sending us to tour the School of the Air – one of those things us old jaded tourists hadn’t bothered to do. What an amazing set up. This is one area of education that has been transformed by technology. The teacher communicates from a sound proof studio with her students that cover an area three times the size of the UK. The students have a “class” on air for 40 minutes every day and the rest is handled by correspondence and still needs to be supervised, usually by the parents. The government covers all the costs for running the school and equipping the students with the technology they need. Generally students continue with School of the Air until year 8 or 9 and are then sent to boarding school. The tour reported that students of School of the Air tend to perform very well academically. They don’t suffer from bullying and they are usually able to learn at their own pace, without competitive pressure from classmates. We saw some evidence of this at Limmen Bight Fishing Camp where Patsy, the woman who ran the place, was running School of the Air for her 15 year old daughter and her 6 year old niece. She showed us her little “school” area filled with high tech computer equipment, which was a sharp contrast to the primitive nature of the rest of the place. And the 6 year olds reading skills were exceptional – again a rather sharp contrast to the ragamuffin look of the child.

OK, that’s enough. Just one more small thing. Sitting in the hot springs earlier this afternoon I was very taken aback to find that I was suddenly being bitten by something. No, not a croc, turns out that it was some small fish that bite off all your scabs (I have rather a lot of scabs because of the mosquito situation here). I found this rather unpleasant - but apparently in Thailand you pay to have these fish bite all the blisters and sores off your feet as a health treatment. So I suppose you could say that I’ve had an outback beauty treatment.

Over to Dennis…..

So a year has passed and we are still on the road, 15 days away from having no fixed address, we’ve covered 45,000 kms a lot of it off road so the car is starting to look a little worse for wear, having had a wheel stud and recently a new tyre.

I love this part of the country where the bush meets the sea, it’s my personal favorite and we are now heading for a lot more of it. Oh have to go and collect fire wood now so that we can fire up the camp oven for dinner under the stars, again!

SPECIAL ADDENDUM – DENNIS TURNS GREASE MONKEY

Grease Monkey at Work!

Stephanie again: I am about to put this blog online having arrived in Borroloola, where communication is actually possible. It must be documented that Dennis Moore, former senior Coles executive and semi-retired executive coach, the man who self reported as someone who would always pay someone else to fix his car, seems to have become a grease monkey. He suddenly decided today that he needed to tighten the wheel bearings – which he did very successfully. He has now run off to the neighbour’s to borrow a grease gun so that he can grease a few nipples. The mind boggles!

On The Road Again

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 22 Aug 2010 04:34:00 +0000

We are back in outback WA, after a week in chilly Melbourne. Dennis’s father Matt was given a terrific send off. He’d left strict instructions that his funeral was not to become “a pantomime” – and the ceremony was suitably simple, but with plenty of warmth, love and humour which would have done him proud. And such a crowd – we figure there were about 130 people there to farewell Matt. We can all only hope to be surrounded by that much love and respect when we’re 89!

Making new friends at the bus stop

We managed to make our way back to Halls Creek in record time – 16 hrs; 20 mins. Flew to Adelaide and then on to Darwin. Had lunch in Darwin with our friends, Ricky and Yvonne; then caught a small plane from Darwin to Kununurra, took a taxi to the bus stop and finally boarded the bus for the 4 hour trip to Halls Creek. We’d had to book a hotel room ($220 for the “Executive Suite” in Halls Creek – amazing what price you can command when you have your customer over a barrel) – so you can imagine our despair when we arrived in Hall Creek to find the reception completely shut and no late check in options provided. We discovered that you can achieve a lot if you just make enough noise!!

The next morning we were reunited with our car (turned out to be a broken wheel stud, not a wheel bearing after all – cheaper, but also horrifying to realize that there had been a good chance the wheel could have just come off while we were barreling down the highway), picked up the camper….and we were home at last. Seriously – it’s amazing how much “the road” now feels like home.

The Road Less Travelled

We then decided to hit the “road less travelled”. We headed down the Tanami Track and then turned off into the aboriginal communities of Balgo Mulan to Lake Gregory and Stretch Lagoon. There were virtually no other tourists, and yet, to our surprise here was a permanent body of water right in the dunes where the Tanami and the Great Sandy deserts meet.

A bit of background before I continue. When I was 12 years old my family moved from Washington DC, where my father had been posted for the last 5 years, back to Ottawa Canada. For some reason in that first year back in Canada I developed an obsession with the Montreal Canadians ice hockey team. I used to write long letters to all my friends in Washington going on and on about the hockey and which players I had a crush on. Anyway, it didn’t take long before those friends stopped writing back. By the time I was 14 I didn’t really give a stuff about hockey anymore – but that brief obsession had lost me all my childhood friends.

Stretch Lagoon

So – it is because of the scars from this experience that I have decided not to say too much about the birds. I realize that none of you really want to hear about all the amazing new birds we saw at Stretch Lagoon, how beautiful they were, how they were nesting and starting to prepare for breeding season. You certainly wouldn’t want to know that a pair of Little Eagles had a huge nest in a tree growing right in the middle of the lagoon, that we finally saw a Sacred Kingfisher and that the White Breasted Woodswallow makes a nest that look like an adobe hut. Chances are that our new obsession with bird watching will be over within the next 6 months. So it doesn’t seem worth risking any friendships!

Sunset over Lake Gregory

The area we were travelling is now known as the Paruku Indigenous Protection Area. The land that used to comprise two pastoral leases was handed back to the aboriginal people by the WA government in 2001. The area includes the communities of Balgo, Mulan and Billiluna. All look like a tip, two out of three communities have declared bankruptcy and absolutely everything of note seems to be managed by white people. While we were there the first muster in 10 years was taking place – and almost ALL the cowboys were white. I’m not judging at all – just relaying the sad and frustrating facts.

Then it was back to Halls Creek – along the last 100k of the Canning Stock Route, so we didn’t miss it altogether. On the way, we stopped off at Wolfe Creek Meteorite Crater – the second largest in the world, and (Kevin, you guessed it) the largest in the southern hemisphere.

We returned to Halls Creek to vote, but to our horror we discovered that only WA residents could vote in Halls Creek. Interstate types had to go to Broome or Kununurra. Neither was on our planned route, but at least Kununurra was in the right general direction. So it was back in the car for a further 360k drive. The ridiculous thing is we know we are going to cancel out each other’s vote – but you have to do your democratic duty. Luckily we got up early this morning, because those poor people at the polling station had absolutely no idea how to handle interstate votes and the queue was well out the door by the time we left.

We are now at Keep River National Park, just the other side of the NT border. It’s hot, very hot. And I hate to say it but we are just sitting here sweating and….watching the birds. So I will hand over to that other great twitcher.

In the next blog we will celebrate 12 months since we hit the road so I will save the details until then.

Back in Melbourne again for the 2nd time in 2 weeks to farewell dad, it was a good family time and we celebrated his successful life from the time he spent in the Air Force (5 Years ) in the second world war to growing up in the depression through to being married to mum for 60 years, having 6 kids, 13 grand kids and one great granddaughter. We all remember him in our own ways and we are happy that his suffering has now ended. Mum is doing well and looking forward to the future which is really great for her and the rest of the family. Thanks to all the people who attended the funeral, we appreciate it.

Bazza's Lifestyle

On the road still clocking up the kilometers and meeting lots of interesting people, today I met Bazza, a guy form Perth who as a boy liked big trucks, so he bought a 1975 Kenworth and restored it, then did some work on the trailer and now he has this amazing holiday home called Bazza’s Lifestyle and its kitted out with the works including a coffee machine and all the mod cons you can think of. Bazz has just crossed most of the country from Rockhampton to Kunnunnurra and is yet to refuel this sucker.

Bazz wins my vote for the best rig seen on the trip, pity he can’t find a caravan park big enough to let him in, although everything is self contained.

A Good Life

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 07 Aug 2010 06:20:00 +0000

Matt and Rose with their family - August '09

Matt Moore, Dennis's father, passed away this morning, 7 August, 2010, on his 89th birthday. He led a good life, serving his country in World War 2 and working hard all his life to raise six children. Dennis will remember him for so many things, and for me, I will always remember his sense of humour and his great stories. He will be sadly missed, and we are greatful that his passing was a peaceful one.

We are in Broome, waiting to catch our flight to Melbourne. It is expected that the funeral will be on Thursday. The family requests no flowers be sent. A single wreath will accompany the coffin.

The Long Way Home

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 06 Aug 2010 12:23:00 +0000

As I write I am sitting in the Halls Creek Sports Bar, drinking rum and coke and quietly eating a sandwich under the table so no one notices. Tried the food here once before, and once was enough. I digress; we are sitting in the Sports Bar waiting for the 9:30pm departure of the overnight bus to Broome, from where we will catch a flight to Melbourne in the morning that should get us home sometime tomorrow night. Dennis’s Dad is back in hospital and much worse. We’ve been back and forth for two weeks with “should we go home”, “should we continue on” and we’ve finally decided the time has come. As to why we are taking such a circuitous route home when we’ve known all along this was a possibility…..that is pretty much the story of the last 2 weeks.

Dennis got a call from his Mum after landing in Perth on his way back to Broome to say Matt was going back to hospital. We hung out in Broome at my beloved Broome Bird Observatory for a few extra days after Dennis got back, trying to get a handle on Matt’s status. Finally, we decided that we would start heading east, but we would forego plans to see the Gulf Country, because it is just too remote. Instead, we would go and see the Bungle Bungles then head down the Tanami Track to Alice Springs where it would be easy to get flights to Melbourne if we needed to. We had worked out that while at the Bungles we would only be 2 days drive from Darwin and once we hit the Tanami we’d be no more than 2 days drive to Alice – so we should be able to be in Melbourne within 2-3 days wherever we were. Makes complete sense until you start to factor in good old Murphy.

The first night we got as far as Fitzroy Crossing, and the rain started overnight. This has been the strangest year in the Kimberley – this was the start of the third lot of unseasonal rains. It rained much of the next day and we stopped in Halls Creek to check on the status of the roads. Hadn’t rained in Halls Creek yet and we were told not to worry, “you’re in the desert now mate!” So we forged ahead and got to the Bungles that night. Two days at the Bungles and we discover that the Tanami Track is now closed thanks to the rain (so much for being in the desert). Do we wait, or go to Darwin instead? We decided to wait. The road opened yesterday so we packed up and headed out early. After about 2 hours we start to hear this clunk clunk noise – which got progressively louder and was quite alarming by the time we hit Halls Creek (where we had only planned to stop briefly). We went to the local mechanic and learned we’d done a wheel bearing – “do not leave town in that car” was his advice. All very well, but in the same breath he advises he can’t do anything with the car until next Tuesday. So we found ourselves stranded in Halls Creek. We spoke to Rose this morning and it didn’t sound good….so we decided that despite having no car we had to get out of here and on our way. Hence the overnight bus. I must admit that it’s almost worth the torment, just to watch Dennis waiting for a dilapidated old bus with his knapsack slung over his back. From homeless to hobo - what a traveler he’s become!

Now, let’s move on to the highlights – because there have definitely been some.

First, of course, the Bungle Bungles, aka Purnululu. Have you ever been to see one of those really famous sites and once you got there your first thought was “is that it?” The Mona Lisa comes to mind for me. Well, the experience with the Bungles was exactly the opposite. No pictures could ever prepare you for the grandeur of the place. For the uninitiated, the Bungles are famous for their unique rock formations that look like an endless series of beehives. But face to face it is far bigger and the colours more brilliant than I expected (especially when the sun finally came out), there are layers of black and orange rock throughout the ranges that look like tiger stripes. It almost feels like you are standing in the middle of an impressionist painting. I must say that up until now I haven’t taken much interest in the geology of Australia – just old rock. But this place is fascinating. The formations have been formed by the erosion of sandstone over 360million years. The black stripes in the rock are formed by bacteria which cling to moisture on the rock to create a thin crust that holds the entire rock formation together. The orange stripes are rock with little or no retained moisture, so the outer layer is simply oxidized iron.

When you consider that this landscape has taken 360million years to form it makes you feel not only that your own life, but the entire human race, is of very little significance. However, what sustains me is the knowledge that this beautiful place was formed to a large degree by small rocks that tumbled through cracks in the sandstone carving out fissures and smoothing the surface of the sandstone. So even seemingly insignificant things make a big difference to the world.

The surprise package of this part of the trip has been Halls Creek. I must admit that we were pretty horrified with the idea that we were stuck in Halls Creek for 5 days. But it turns out to be a really warm and friendly town. The population is largely aboriginal but it is definitely not one of those basket case outback towns. There is a sense of purpose to the place and the people as they move about town. There are actually aboriginal people working in the visitor’s centre and the shops. The town became a dry town a few years ago and I suspect that this is what has made the difference.

We continue to be struck with the complexity of the aboriginal situation. There are just no easy solutions. We have learned that many of the current issues have arisen as a result of the government’s (very well meaning) legislation in the ‘60’s requiring that aboriginals be paid a fair wage. Since aboriginals were working pretty much as slaves on most stations you can’t imagine that this step could be anything but a good thing. However, the station owners who had been accommodating and providing basic support for aboriginal stockmen and their families could no longer afford the workers and they chased entire families off their land and, for the most part, into the pubs. Aboriginal men, who had actually been valued for their skills as stockmen, now lost the one thing that had earned them respect in a white man’s world, and entire families were herded into a life of poverty in camps and towns. Not the outcome the government was looking for, I’m sure. Who knows what the fallout will be from the Intervention etc – but I must reiterate that making it difficult to acquire alcohol seems to be working!

It’s now 7:30pm – only two hours left ‘til the dreaded bus ride. Dennis is listening to the Bombers on the radio, but I will see if I can tear him away for long enough to write a few words.

The Bombers are down 22 points at ¾ time however against this mob (Carlton) we will get over the line. I’m not as impressed with this Halls Creek as Stephanie, however it is pleasant enough place to hang out waiting for the bus. Again in the outback it’s not IF we can fix your vehicle but when! How about we get the parts from Perth and they will be on the truck here on Monday. We have been v ery fortunate with the vehicle up to this point, things are now starting to break down as we travel over the corrugations and off road conditions. The good part of the trip continues to be the people that we meet and the sense of seeing so much of Australia.

Matt with Shane at our
going away party

My dad is now in the final stages of his life, tomorrow he turns 89, in hospital being in good care and not in pain, we all will miss him and pray that he gets straight into Heaven. Dad has had a good life and been a very good father to the 6 of us, a good husband to Rose my mother and loved by many grand kids.

Dad I love you
Dennis

Flying Solo

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 02:27:00 +0000

After our last blog you might be excused for thinking that “flying solo” means that Dennis has finally come to his senses and left me by the side of the road. Close, but not quite true. Sadly, Dennis’s father, Matt, had a fall which put him in hospital and this was followed by a heart attack. We had got as far as the Ningaloo Reef when we got the news and decided it was time for Dennis to go home. We madly packed up the tent in a very gusty (and sandy) windstorm and started north, putting Dennis on a plane to Melbourne from Karratha the next evening. While Dennis endured a 10 hour flight via Perth, I was left to get the car to Broome and then arrange for all the various fix-ups needed to cars, fridges etc to enable us to make the final assault.

The good news is that Matt is a stubborn old thing, and went home from hospital on Friday. Weaker than before, but still soldiering on; bless him. Dennis flies back to Broome tomorrow – hurray! However, we are bracing ourselves for a return visit.

In some ways this whole section of our trip seems like we’ve moved from one setback to another. But I don’t want to lose sight of the fact that there have been highlights and learnings.

Dennis, Tony & Karen at Cape Range

Although we drove all the way to Exmouth and Cape Range National Park and never even got a glimpse of the Ningaloo Reef – the journey was not completely wasted due largely to our coincidental meeting with Tony and Karen – the people that had rescued us from a bog while we were near Alice. We managed to enjoy a lovely meal and a walk at one of the gorges in Cape Range with them before making our mad dash north and it was great to reconnect!! Ironically I just now got a text message from Tony to say they are in Broome, so it looks like we may catch up again tomorrow.

My little camp at Cape Kerraudren
Please note I put up the awning by
myself!

I seem to have managed the whole “living on the road” thing by myself alright – but I must admit that I’ll be glad when Dennis gets back. First, I miss him and second I’ve decided that I was never cut out to be Director of Toys and I would like to be relieved of the position! So far I’ve just about set the campsite alight because I didn’t do up the connection to the gas cylinder tight enough – and I’ve driven off with the solar panels still connected to the car. I have managed to arrange for the various car and fridge repairs so I’m not a dead loss, but nonetheless I feel the world will be a safer place when Dennis retakes his proper position.

Sunset at Cape Kerraudren

The drive to Broome was largely without incident or interest. However, I did stop for lunch in Port Hedland – which somehow felt more livable than Karratha. Older and more established and a hive of activity as the port is right in the centre of town. I also camped in an absolutely glorious spot right on the beach at Cape Kerraudren. The sunset was astounding and the whole experience was very calming after a long day’s drive.

Before I leave Karratha, Port Hedland and the Pilbara behind, I feel I must mention the “two speed economy” that plagues this part of the world. The mining industry, with its very high paying jobs, dominates. People come to the Pilbara for the money, and many don’t even live here permanently choosing to fly in/ fly out. The problem is finding people to work in the “regular” jobs, like retail, restaurants, entertainment and tourism. So, in Karratha the cinema closed two years ago, because they couldn’t keep it staffed. McDonalds actually flies in staff from Indonesia on a “6 weeks on, 2 weeks off” basis. It is not simply greed that prevents people from taking on these lower paid jobs. The cost of living, and in particular the cost of housing, is so high that you can’t afford to live in Karratha if you are working in a “regular” job. I don’t want to get political – but I must say the idea of investing money to provide infrastructure in the “regions” to alleviate pressure on the capital cities makes a hell of a lot of sense in this part of the country.

Now – let’s leave the Pilbara and return to Broome. I’ve been extremely fortunate to be staying at the Broome Bird Observatory most of the time I’ve been on my own. This is just the most fabulous place. There is a lovely big “shade house” which serves as a camp kitchen and general meeting place, so I have not felt alone the whole time I’ve been here. The highlight of the week, and for me, one of the highlights of the whole trip, was today’s “cannon netting” adventure. You might be forgiven for thinking this is some new act of terrorism, but it is in fact a method of catching large numbers of birds for identification and tagging.

Releasing the birds after tagging

Setting up to start tagging

Here’s how it goes. The cannons are set very early in the morning (by someone else thank goodness). Then as the high tide approaches everyone convenes near the catching place and hides quietly behind the beach. As the tide gets higher the birds are pushed back toward the nets and once the birds are positioned appropriately the order is given to “FIRE”. As the cannon sounds and the nets fly, everyone runs down to the beach at breakneck pace and surrounds the net, pushing it and the birds away from the water to ensure the birds don’t drown. Once positioned properly the birds are removed from the net, identified and put into boxes to be transported up the beach to another set of boxes all labeled for the different bird types. There is a real sense of urgency throughout this entire phase as it’s important to ensure the birds are safe as quickly as possible. Thereafter we were broken into teams to identify, tag and measure each of the birds, before releasing them back into the wild. Today we tagged 663 birds – not a bad day’s work.

Later this week we will set off to see Wolfe Creek meteorite crater, followed by the Bungle Bungles. From there we have decided to trek across the “Gulf Country” – ie Gulf of Carpenteria. I’ve been doing the research and expect that it will be a bit of an adventure, with plenty of opportunity for good fishing, and most important, it should be HOT. Our brief brush with the cold in Tom Price and Karratha has persuaded us that we need to stay as far north for as long as possible.

I know that Dennis’s entry will be sadly missed by everyone this time – but worry not, like the Terminator, he’ll be back!

Coming Back to Earth

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 13 Jul 2010 05:58:00 +0000

For those of you who have been being quietly sick at our seemingly steady stream of good cheer, love and happiness, fear no more – we have formally come back to earth. The last couple of weeks have been more challenging than our paradise period in the Kimberley and the rough spots are starting to show.

First, there’s the weather. There has been a cold (and wet) snap in northern WA – unseasonal and unexpected – and frankly we were mentally unprepared.

Second, there’s the downsizing. We’ve left our camper behind in Broome and have moved into a very small (and pretty cheap and nasty) tent. Homelessness seemed like a romantic concept when we first sold our house – but a few cold nights have already led to second thoughts!

Third, there’s the place. We’re in the Pilbara and frankly find it to be desolate, barren and largely uninteresting. The deep red earth means money, money, money – but the area seems to have little else to offer. Eighty Mile Beach, for example, which is touted as one of the best places in Australia for fishing, was recently hit by a cyclone which decimated ALL the trees – one can’t imagine a bleaker picture. The mining towns which are dotted throughout the Pilbara are built for making money not living life. Karratha, for example, is basically just one big Centro Shopping Centre – functional, but characterless. Marble Bar was described to us by the woman in the visitors centre as a “nasty” place driven by greed and deception - now that’s appealing.

Fourth, there’s the car and the fridge, both of which has developed electrical problems. This wouldn’t be such a disaster except that Karratha is overflowing with people, which means auto dealers and electricians are overflowing with business, which means customer service is deemed to be unnecessary and waiting is the order of the day. So we are trapped in Karratha for the foreseeable future.

Finally, there’s us. Problems one, two, three and four have slowly worn away some of the gloss of our holiday-mood relationship. Everything is irritating and we’ve been doing a fair amount of pushing each other’s buttons lately. We are currently camped behind the sand dunes about 20k out of Karratha. A month ago that would have seemed like a lovely romantic idea – but in our current frame of mind it’s just plain irritating that there’s nowhere to have a shower, nothing much to do and even the fish aren’t biting.

All this to demonstrate that life just can never be a permanent holiday!

Now that I’ve finished with the Big Whinge, let me tell you about the highlights of the last couple of weeks.

Karajini National Park was most certainly a highlight – although it didn’t seem that way at first. We had been given the word by absolutely everyone we met that Karajini was one of the wonders of Australia. But when we arrived at the park we were distinctly unimpressed. The landscape was pretty flat and uninteresting, the area around the campsites had all been back burnt and that cold weather mentioned earlier had arrived – so it seemed pretty bleak and barren. But it’s the gorges that bring people to Karajini and these gorges really are sensational. We’ve seen a lot of gorges and everywhere else the gorges seem to be carved between hills – so you can see the gap as you approach the gorge. At Karajini the gorges suddenly appear as a fissure in otherwise flat ground, like some giant ditch. The walks into and through the gorges are astounding, taking you from the rather dreary landscape above into lands of tropical palm forests, dramatic rock crevasses, stunning waterfalls and picture perfect pools. Without question the most dramatic and wonderous natural phenomena we have seen on this trip. Check out Flickr to see more pictures (www.flickr..com/photos/dennisandsteph).

The magnitude of the mining operations here has also been interesting. The name of the game here is iron ore, and it’s everywhere. We’ve “done” the Rio Tinto circuit. We stayed in Tom Price, where we toured Rio’s biggest iron ore mining operation. Not dissimilar to many of the other mines we’ve toured – but redder and dustier. We then drove from Tom Price to Karratha along Rio’s private rail line which carts tonnes of iron ore daily to their private port facilities in Dampier. As it turned out, we stayed our first night at a “temporary” caravan park directly across from the Rio loading facilities where we watched the huge boats being filled with rocks (aka money). Apparently this is one of the two largest bulk loading facilities in the world. As it turns out, the other largest facility is up the road in Port Hedland, where BHP has its private loading docks, serviced by its private train line. This is big business!

Also worthy of note was a trip to the Roebourne Races - largely because this was probably the most colourful place in the Pilbara. The horses and the tipping were a bit disasterous, but the people watching as worth the price of entry.

Future plans are to some degree in the hands of the Karratha electricians – but we do intend to go to the Ningaloo Reef from here. Weather permitting, we expect this to be a vast improvement. Thereafter our plans have changed. Dennis’s Dad had a fall recently and we are a bit worried about him, so have decided to forego the pleasure of the Canning Stock Route – 16 days completely out of touch just seems too risky at the moment. So I have swung into Planning Director mode and am recalibrating the itinerary. Don’t be surprised if you find us heading back north toward the sun!!

And now, a word from Gramps!

Another fine contribution from Stephanie, she has captured the essence of our recent travels. In WA (Western Australia) for our overseas readers WA stands for 2 things “Windy Always” and secondly “Wait Awhile”. In these parts it means wait a very long while and the lack of service mentality is alarming.

The good news is that the weather is improving and we should be out of town in a few days, Dad has started to improve somewhat, however nearing 90 he struggles as his body wears out. But his mind is good and he is capable of some good one liners still, if not politically correct. It seems that he told my kids that Stephanie and I were “living in a tent in the bush like black fellas”. We now look forward to the arrival of a grand child and have our thoughts with Kristie and Jamie at this time.

Until next time!

Final postscript from Stephanie. In our rush to report on the sale of our house we neglected to note that Dennis was the winner of the biggest mud crab catch while we were at Cape Leveque. He looks the part, don’t you agree?

The Good News Keeps Coming....

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 11 Jul 2010 02:31:00 +0000

We may have lost a house, but it seems that we are about to gain something far more precious. Dennis's youngest daughter, Kristie and her husband Jamie are expecting their first child sometime in January 2011 - what a way to start a new decade! The entire family is excited - but none more than that first time grandfather himself. After much pondering and campfire discusson Dennis has decided that he would like to be referred to as "Gramps" - which seems preferable to "the bush tucker man" and "Crocodile Dundee".

In a year that has had its ups and downs the start of a new life is the best news we could have hoped for and somehow seems a fitting reminder of how the circle of life just keeps spinning.

An account of our ongoing adventures will follow shortly, but it seemed important to get this breaking news on the wire right away.

I will mention that Byron Bay has come up the winner in our poll as to where we should live next. I'm pleased to report that no one voted for "Outer Mongolia" - but Peter O'Connor came close when he nominated "Iceland" because he didn't know how to spell "Afghanistan". Thanks Occa!

GIPPS GOES

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 25 Jun 2010 10:14:00 +0000

I've had far too much champagne so this will have to be short so that I manage to finish the message before collapsing in a heap. We've sold our house before auction. We're thrilled with the price and cracked open a bottle of bubbly too early in the day.

So it's official...we are homeless, but happy. Please go to our blog page at http://www.wordsfromthebush.blogspot.com/ to have your say as to where we should live next.

I Love You Best When the Sun Shines

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 21 Jun 2010 05:11:00 +0000

In almost 10 months of travel the one thing we have really noticed is the impact the weather has on everything. How we feel about a place, each other and life in general can change with a shift in the wind, a rise or fall in temperature or the coming of rain. As a Canadian who used to survive months of winter, I have always been aware that weather affects your mood. When you are exposed to the elements 100% of the time, what is surprising is how even a small change can completely alter your perspective.

Over the last 3-4 weeks we have been through a period of near perfection in the weather. The dry season arrived suddenly and has brought with it perfect clear days with temperatures of just over 30°C, but evenings cool enough to sleep comfortably. No wind, no flies, no humidity. This has been an extraordinarily happy time for us – everywhere we go just seems magic and we are in one of those phases in our relationship where we love each other a little bit more every day.

This will give you some perspective when I say that the Kimberley region of Western Australia has been, without question, my favourite part of Australia. The land is ancient with magnificent ranges, rivers and gorges formed almost 2 billion years ago. It was one of the first parts of Australia settled by the aboriginal people but one of the last areas settled by Europeans. So it has this strange dichotomy of being at once ancient and new. But mostly, despite an upsurge in tourism, it remains blessedly isolated, majestic and filled with surprising corners of beauty and serenity.

Since we last blogged we have travelled the full length of the Gibb River Road, from Kununurra to Broome. We found the “best campsite on tour” at El Questro where we managed to snare a beautiful private site on the edge of the Pentacost River. Dennis fished out the front of the tent, I read my book, we both went for amazing walks to the most glorious gorges and swam in clear crystal pools (that is, when I could persuade Dennis that there really weren’t any crocodiles in the pools waiting to eat him). We moved on to a couple of station stays at Mt Elizabeth and Charnley River Stations – both interesting and with opportunities to explore the properties to discover more gorges and swimming holes and even some pretty spectacular aboriginal rock art. We also spent a few days at the Mornington Wilderness Sanctuary – again magnificent landscape but fascinating because this area, which has now been destocked for almost a decade, was so dramatically different in its vegetation and birdlife to the station landscape. It is quite surprising to realize the impact that cattle have on the landscape – even when as widely dispersed as they are in the Kimberley.

Dennis will tell you that he has been a contestant in “Survivor” over the whole of this trip, but particularly through the Kimberley. I must admit that many of the walks we have done have been pretty difficult and involved scrambling over boulders, swimming across pools and lengthy walks on uneven surface in the hot sun. Dennis has been a legend – and has survived each challenge put in front of him. That is, of course, except the canoe challenge! We went canoeing on a couple of occasions. The first time we canoed through Dimond Gorge in the Mornington Sanctuary and Dennis was able to ‘board’ the canoe from the beach. It wasn’t pretty, but he managed to stay afloat and we were able to paddle forth. However, when we tried again to canoe at Charnley River he was not so successful. This time we had to board from the rocks with the canoe sitting in deep water. I got in first (BIG mistake) and Dennis followed. The minute he stepped into the boat we started to tip and I knew we were done for. There was a couple of seconds of rocking back and forth as Dennis tried to regain his balance, but pretty soon we were both in the drink. Dennis gets top marks for keeping his sense of humour. He did initially come out of the water with “that look” on his face – you know, the look that says “this is all your fault, why do I ever listen to you”. But pretty quickly we were both in fits of laughter. And, best news, we had learned our lesson from previous adventures and left the camera behind – so no costly damage done!

As anticipated the late rains did prevent us from heading north to Mitchell Falls and the coastal community of Kalumbaru – but that’s OK as it only means we will have to come back! The Bungle Bungles were also closed, but we will be able to go there in August after we finish the Canning – so all is not lost there either.

We are now at Cape Leveque in the top northwest corner of Australia. This is a magic place! We’ve been here before and return 8 years later to find the place somewhat busier – but just as picture perfect. The peninsula juts out into the Indian Ocean so you can see the sun rise over the ocean on one side and set over the ocean on the other. Accomodation and camping is still very basic, leaving the red sandstone cliffs and miles of beach to play the starring role. Since we were last here there has been the addition of a new restaurant complete with espresso coffee machine – so it’s possible that this really is as good as it gets!

While we are basking in the warmth and beauty of the Kimberley, the really BIG NEWS is happening on the opposite side of the continent. Our house on Gipps Street goes to auction next Saturday (26th June) at 11am. To be honest, it’s not looking all that great for the auction at the moment, so we expect that it probably won’t sell on the day. But nonetheless we are bracing ourselves for pending homelessness. Just in case you are surprised by the idea of us selling our house, I should probably add that our latest plan is to relocate to somewhere on the northern coast of NSW. We’ve had enough of the cold and the traffic and this year has opened our eyes to the idea that life is short and you need to suck everything you can from it. No doubt a news flash will follow on this topic.

That’s my full report (can you believe it’s so short). Now over to Dennis, who will no doubt regale you with exaggerated tales of his bravery and heroism in surviving the last few weeks.

What can I say only that I am surviving the daily tasks set by the personal trainer (Steph) what she has not mentioned is the water ways have been alive with fresh water crocodiles, the locals say they will avoid you and its ok to swim, not for me though. Our private camp site on the river at El Questro was superb right down to the fishing out the front of the camp where numerous fish were caught and then released including a 54 centimeter Barra, cat fish and black brim and oh yes the fresh water croc basking in the sun for an hour out the front also.

We have had a few funny moments including the Barra Classic winners Dinner at Mt Hart a 1 million acre property where we spent the night. Stephanie nominated here for her ‘winners’ dinner stipulating that mention needed to be made for the reason for our celebration. In the normal way I asked the maitre de to do the honours, there were some 30 people at dinner and prior to the selection of 8 different deserts to be pondered, Taffy enquired if there was a Stephanie Hunt in the room, sheepishly up went the hand she was then invited to stand up, Taffy with his quick Irish wit said “you can do the dishes” which got a great laugh, boy I wish I had a photo! Taffy then proceeded to mention the Barra Classic achievement and Steph was escorted up to be the first for deserts, I must admit that I have not laughed so much for some time, all good fun and we both had a good time.

Golf has been a rarity however I did play at Broome last Saturday and featured in the prize pool coming in equal second with 40 points, an interesting course and they do love their golf up here.

We are now in the process of preparing to leave the camper in storage and fitting out the car to go with a tent as we head towards the Canning Stock route on the 1st August, so expect the survivor challenge to go up a notch.

That’s it for now and fingers crossed that the house sells on Saturday.

GREY NOMADS AND BLACKFELLAS

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 05 Jun 2010 22:00:00 +0000

My last blog entry was rudely interrupted by a sudden need for a nap. So herewith are some observations on the people of Top End – specifically the Grey Nomads and the indigenous Australians. No doubt I’m going to offend someone, or possibly everyone, with this blog. So apologies in advance!

We always knew we would eventually find ourselves on the Grey Nomad circuit – and we hit it full on when we pulled into Wooliana, the camp on the Daly River where we caught those big fish so many of you have commented on. Grey Nomads, for the uninitiated, are the countless retired Australians who are “living the dream” of travelling endlessly around Australia with their caravan, their wife and their fishing rod. (This sounds familiar, I know, but I promise you, WE ARE DIFFERENT.) Anyway, I’ve learned some things about Grey Nomads in the last couple of weeks. First thing is that for many Australians the Grey Nomad life is not a one-time only lap around Australia. Instead it is sort of the Australian version of owning a place in Florida (Canadians will get the analogy). They go home to their southern lifestyles through the summer months, but when winter hits they get back into their caravan and head north often returning to the same places year in and year out. So, as you can imagine, during the winter the popular camps and caravan parks feel like a senior’s community centre. You might think that an annual sojourn to the far north of Australia would be a life for adventurers – but not so. It’s like the suburbs meets the outback. Every day the same routine – check your traps for bait, cuppa tea with the neighbours, a spot of fishing in your tinny, rest for awhile, group drinkies in the central meeting spot, dinner, a bit of TV, sleep, start again.

Dennis is going to be irritated with me for being so disparaging, and would quickly point out how very nice everyone in the Grey Nomad communities really is. And it is absolutely, 100% true. Salt of the earth, warm, friendly, wonderful people for the most part. I think it is fear of growing old myself (or should that read “being old”) that provokes a somewhat negative reaction. The worst part of being on the Grey Nomad circuit is the assumption that I am part of the flock. I swear I’m going to punch the next person who asks me if I have a senior’s card!!!

I talked in an earlier blog about my observations on aboriginal Australians. I remain torn between frustration and sorrow at their plight. (By the way, the man in the picture left with Dennis is part of the frustration - drunk, reaking and doing nothing.) We have actually had a few closer encounters over the last couple of weeks and I thought I would share these with you – and for the most part I will leave you to draw your own conclusions.

First we met Larry Johns in Timber Creek – a tiny town in the NT close to the WA border. We spoke to Larry over a cuppa at the local supermarket for quite some time. Larry is of mixed blood and was part of the “stolen generation” – but one of those who was grateful for the experience. The boys’ home in Darwin was full and one of the local stations agreed to take him on at the age of 6. He was home schooled along with the two daughters of the station owner until he was 12 and the girls were sent off to boarding school. He learned all about managing animals and a station by working the land. Eventually he left the property with money in his bank account (having been taught the value of saving) and went to Wyndham to earn a living. He explained that “in them days you either worked for a living or starved, there was no sit down money” – a fact which he feels strongly had worked in his favour. Eventually he got a job as the weed controller for the WA government centred in Timber Creek – a job he has held for 35 years. He plans to retire next year, having enough super set aside, and hopes to set up a small tourism business in his retirement. I don’t need to tell you that this is not a “typical” aboriginal story. To all my left leaning friends – don’t worry, this has not left me thinking that it would be a good idea to take aboriginal children and have them raised by white people! But it did illustrate for me the importance of education and having role-models who value education, as well as the potentially destructive force of welfare.

Then we went to an aboriginal Corroboree at Kununurra. This was fun, and had the feeling of being the “real thing” rather than a tourist attraction. Most of the audience was aboriginal people and/or white people from the local community. The whole thing was more like party games than a professional show – with people shouting over each other to veto certain songs or change the order. In the middle of one of the dances an old woman suddenly started heaving pieces of wood at the ground and it turned out she was killing a snake. There was a lot of joy and laughter in the whole affair. What worried me was the sense that this was like a children’s play – I tended to find myself thinking “ahhh isn’t this cute”. It’s a dreadful paternalistic tendency that I feel plagues the aboriginals themselves and our own ability to change things.

Finally, we met Ted Hall who ran the tour at the Argyle Diamond Mine. His story was the most inspirational, and has given me more hope for the future than anything else I’ve seen thus far. When the diamond mine was first opened the mining company (not sure if it was Rio Tinto at that point) paid each of the neighbouring aboriginal communities about $350K in royalties for the rights to mine the land. The money went directly to the community and as has happened with so much money that has been poured into aboriginal communities the money was wasted – frittered away on cars, alcohol and hand outs to relatives in other areas. As a young man Ted was part of a group that saw this happening and spoke up against the elders – demanding that the money be better controlled. For their efforts they were evicted from the community. They moved into town and started to petition the mine itself, asking for their help in forcing the elders to better manage the money. The mining company, not surprisingly, said “not our problem”. All seemed wasted until about 5 years ago when the mine realized that it had come to the end of the open pit supply of diamonds and it needed to move to underground mining….which meant a renegotiation of the royalties. Now many of those young men who had spoken out so loudly in the early days were elders themselves and found themselves sitting at the table with the mining company. This time they negotiated royalty payments to be paid into a trust for the aboriginal communities, with a board of directors who would decide how the funds would be invested. Since that time the money has been used for micro-loans to assist local people in setting up businesses, and has been spent on health and education programs in the community. We keep hearing how the aboriginal people need to start taking responsibility for their own problems and be part of the solution. Here, at last, was an example – it is not only possible, it is already happening.

Here endeth the lesson.

But before I go a couple of side notes from here at Diggers Rest Station. Our adventures continue – yesterday we had a near miss with a croc and helped to give birth to twin goats. The croc story, of course, is somewhat exaggerated. We went for a walk on the Diggers Rest property and had to take our shoes off to wade across a creek. Dennis didn’t think this was a good idea, “it’s croc country” he said, but I told him not to be a wimp. As it turned out when we got about 100m downstream from the creek crossing we spotted a salt water crocodile peering menacingly above the water. Dennis now counts this as a near miss! The goats were a much more up close affair. The owners of the station had gone into town to see the John Farnham concert and left a young German girl named Sinadoo in charge of the station. Just before we started cooking dinner Sinadoo came running in to say that one of the goats had given birth to twins. It had been a breach birth and the mother was now too exhausted to move. She needed our help to lift the goat and her babies into the truck so that she could get them inside and away from the dingoes. So off we went on our goat rescue mission. Mother and children are now both doing well!

And now I’ll see if the goat rescuer himself is available.

Larry , suggested a book “Beyond the Big Run” in which he is mentioned growing up on the Station. The big run is VRD or Victoria Downs, I purchased the book and have just finished it, a short version is that life was tough, the land in this part of the country was first survey in the 1840’s and large leases were granted to open up the country, no roads and few services if any. The book is a transcript from Charlie Shultz who at 19 was put in charge of a station and remained there for 40 years, Charlie is not politically correct and talks of Black fellas, white fellas and yella fellas about Aboriginal camps with guns and spears, people dying terrible deaths from what now seem very minor health issues or accidents. Cattle being driven from Queensland in the War and how the Government thought the Japs were coming so they gave the stations guns and ammo to defend themselves.

While in Kununarra we drove up to Wyndham for the day. No visit to Wyndham would not be complete with the obligatory visit to the Croc farm and we were there for the feeding, you get to see first-hand the power of these perfect killing machines, a timely reminder for the rest of the tour. The other interesting thing about Wyndham apart from being home of the Big Croc is that 5 Rivers run into the sea, the King, Ord, Forrest , Pentecost and the Durack Rivers: massive amounts of water. Wyndham also has the highest number of lightning strikes in the country so you may now be getting the picture of what a wild place this can be particularly when you throw in a Cyclone or two. The Cyclone warning signs are similar to the fire Danger signs down south and the day we were there the warning was LOW.

Enough now and we are off tomorrow to El Questro, that’s after a spot of fishing, horse riding and a station dinner tonight.

Keep those comments coming we enjoy the digs and feedback.

One final note from Stephanie. It should be noted that station life has not become much easier than it was in the days that Dennis describes. Next time you feel that work is overwhelming spare a thought for Australia’s station owners – most of whom now operate full on cattle and/or sheep stations AND bed and breakfast style tourist retreats with only a husband and wife team plus the odd backpacker. I can’t imagine leading a life where you go to bed exhausted from a day of mustering, then have to be up in the middle of the night to deliver a calf and then rise and shine to cook up a feed for your houseful of of lazy tourist – all of this with a smile! That’s not to mention the stress of spending 24 hours a day with your partner and I won’t even talk about the weather. If anyone has a hankering to live on the land, think again!

TOP END REPORT: Water, Rocks and Weather

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 31 May 2010 01:41:00 +0000

Greetings from the beautiful Kimberley region. Over the last 2 weeks we have travelled from Darwin in the Northern Territory, across the WA border and to the eastern edge of the Kimberley. We are currently camped at the Diggers Rest Homestead. As well as being a lovely oasis and a working station, Diggers Rest has achieved some renown as the place where the cast and crew of the movie Australia stayed through much of the filming and also the location of all the cattle mustering scenes. The other really amazing thing about Diggers Rest is we actually get a signal (its approx 40 kms from Wyndham) – so a bit of blogging seemed mandatory.

We’ve spent the last week and a bit between Lake Argyle and Kununurra – both critical parts of the Ord River Irrigation Scheme. Lake Argyle is an enormous man-made lake, which, on average, holds the equivalent of 18 Sydney Harbours. Each year the lake is refreshed during the wet season by the tremendous flows of the Ord River. (Did you know that at its peak, the Ord River is the fastest flowing river in the world with the equivalent of the entire city of Melbourne’s water supply flowing past you every 17 seconds?) The dam that holds back the thundering Ord, then releases sufficient water into the upper Ord throughout the year to keep Lake Kununurra, further upstream, full. From Lake Kununurra a gravity-fed irrigation system feeds water to the surrounding agricultural land. Quite cunning!

The lake itself is absolutely beautiful. It doesn’t really feel as huge as it is because the water has formed a number of smaller bays. We went on a boat cruise in the lake and were able to get a better feeling for its magnitude. This huge, permanent waterhole has attracted masses of bird and animal life – most notably 12,000 fresh water crocodiles. The fresh water ones aren’t supposed to hurt you, but they look menacing all the same.

The dam that holds back this inland sea is remarkably small and was quite an engineering feat for its day – 1974. We saw a documentary on the making of the dam and the most striking thing for me was the complete lack of OH&S in those days. The workers were driving machinery in the blazing sun in just those tiny shorts that only an Australian male would ever wear – no shirt, no hard hat. They blasted twice and each time was the biggest non-nuclear explosion ever on Australian soil – and each time they lit the fuse with a cigarette. How times have changed in 36 years.

The primary crop now being grown in the irrigation area is Indian Sandalwood – used in high quality perfumes and also in all those joss sticks you see in absolutely every Hindu or Buddhist temple. Apparently they tried cotton – didn’t work. Then they tried sugar cane – couldn’t get the economies of scale and eventually CSR pulled out. Then they tried rice – the geese ate all the rice before they could harvest. Finally they have settled on Sandalwood which takes 15 years to reach maturity – so here’s hoping this crop proves successful!

Kununurra itself is not a particularly exciting place – but it’s on the edge of all kinds of “must do” stuff. We were very lucky to arrive in Kununurra during the Ord River Muster, which is an annual festival celebrating the culture of the area. We took full advantage of the programs being offered and went on a special guided walk in Hidden Valley, which is fondly known as the mini-Bungle Bungles, saw an aboriginal Corroboree (more on this later) and had a tour of the Argyle Diamond Mine. We had expected that we would be unable to visit the mine because outside the festival period the only way you can see it is by a helicopter tour that costs over $500 – too rich for our blood. But the festival offered a much cheaper option and we jumped at it.

As it turns out diamond mining isn’t all that different from any other kind of mining – the notable difference being in the level of security. We were constantly being warned not to touch anything, not to pick up any rocks, not to bend over to tie our shoelaces – or we risked a full cavity search. Apparently the security officers within the mine have far greater powers than the police.

I’d no idea but apparently the Argyle Diamond Mine is the largest in the world. The story of the discovery of the mine is full of intrigue. One mining company (let’s say company A) purchased the lease in the hope that they would find uranium. They hired another mining company (company B) to run geological testing in the area. Company B didn’t find any uranium, but they did discover diamonds and kept this discovery hush hush. Word leaked that there might be diamonds in the Kimberley, so company B set up a bogus operation well to the west of the location where they had actually found the diamonds to throw everyone off the scent. It must have worked because, having found no uranium, company A did not renew the lease, allowing company B to pounce on what turned out to be the richest pipe of diamonds yet discovered. It’s all now a Rio Tinto operation.

We’ve been a bit unlucky with the weather. This part of the north had a fairly ordinary wet season (unlike the huge rains enjoyed in Queensland, which stopped our progress through the centre). But to make up for this the area from the Kimberley to Darwin has been receiving unusual rains and humidity in May, which is supposed to be the start of the Dry. It’s been unbearably hot and sticky – even the locals start to complain when the humidity is over 90%. But more significant has been the effect on the roads. Many of the roads we want to travel are closed and it’s unsure when they will reopen. We met a couple who had been up to Kalumburu (one of the places in our plan which is a remote aboriginal community on the far north coast of WA) and had been stranded for 10 days before abandoning their car and escaping on the mail plane. Apparently there were still plenty of people left stranded, including people who had tried to escape in their cars and were now stranded in the middle of nowhere, surviving on food and water drops by the government. Having said that, the weather seems to have turned today and apparently the Dry is reaching the Kimberley – so perhaps we will yet be able to proceed as planned without mishap. Here’s hoping.

I’m tired today for some unknown reason – all this not working for a living can become quite exhausting. (I really mean that by the way – some days I miss the adrenaline.) I was going to regale you with stories of grey nomads and indigenous Australians – but this seems like a long blog already and I think I need a nap. So I will hand over to the budding grey nomad himself and save any other observations for a future blog.

It’s 9 months today since we left Melbourne and it seems to have gone so quickly. The day we left a guy came over to have a look at the camper; Mark from Abbotsford who was planning a trip and was really impressed with our Kimberley camper. One morning at our camp in Kununurra last week this guy comes over and it’s Mark - just happened to be in the same Park. We met his lovely family and saw them off in their new Kimberley Camper to Darwin, talk about a coincidence.

Golf report, have not much to say here as not many courses up here. In fact 3 Kununurra, Derby and Broome are the only options. Seems that I will get to play in Broome. For those non golfers each week after we toil our Saturday round we read the Sunday papers looking for our names in the winners section and then read of our mates at other courses and see how they went. Up in the Kimberley the results are broadcast on the ABC golf show where they talk with reps from each club, quite informative and good to hear the locals, not sure it will catch on down south though.

NEWSFLASH: Stephanie Wins Barra Classic

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 18 May 2010 03:19:00 +0000

Dennis laid down the challenge….winner of the Barra Classic wins a night out in Kunnanara. As usual with Stephanie and Dennis the rules were complicated – 20 points for catching the most fish, 20 points for catching the most barramundi and 30 points for catching the biggest barramundi.

The biggest barra ended up being the first fish out of the water – a 69cm bruiser caught by yours truly. It was an exhilarating fight to get him in the boat (I know it was a he because all barramundi under 80cm are male, when they get bigger they turn into females – go figure?!). Dennis caught the most fish by a long way and kept catching little guys all day as well as scoring a 56cm barra (and, of course, the HUGE one that “got away”). But I caught another big barra (66cm) and then another small one for most Barra caught. Winner! Even the crocodiles were cheering.

Obviously, we are both back from our separate side-trips and now recovering from jetlag at Woolianna, a fisherman’s campground on the edge of the Daly River. The Territory is as we left it….hot, humid and full of insects. More blogging to come (including a chapter on how we hit the “Grey Army” at last) – but wanted to get news of my big win on the wires right away.

And now from the crocodile man (but beware tales of large fish that got away)......

Congratulations Stephanie an outstanding performance, looks like dinner on me in Kunnunara. Now we are off to the West again for more adventure.

Darwin Report: War, Wet and Crocodiles

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 03 May 2010 03:09:00 +0000

Greetings from Darwin – the capital of the Northern Territory, a city far closer to Indonesia than to any other Australian city and a land of two summers – one wet, one dry, both bloody hot! We’ve decided we like Darwin, but it took awhile. First we needed to adjust to the oppressive humidity. We’ve arrived at the end of the wet season and the air is still heavy and close. Sweating seems to be a permanent state of being and it’s terribly hard to sleep in the still, sultry nights. But after 4 days in Katherine and a week in Darwin we seem to be getting used to it – and the purchase of a fan has helped immensely! Then there are the bugs. The flies of the desert have been replaced with the mosquitoes and sand flies (aka biting midges) of the tropics. The flies were extremely irritating; the mossies & midges are enough to send you insane. We are both covered in bites, rashes and welts and suffer fits of uncontrolled scratching. But again, we seem to be adjusting by learning to cover up in the evening and finding insect repellants that work. However, I must admit the real life-saver in this department has been antihistamines – bring on the drugs!!

Darwin is an interesting city. The first thing you notice is that everything is very new. That’s because Darwin was almost completely destroyed by Tropical Cyclone Tracey which tore through here on Xmas Eve 1974 taking most of the infrastructure with it. The population of Darwin is very transient. It doesn’t have quite the exuberance of some of the mining towns like Coober Peedy, but there’s no doubt that people come here to make money – and then generally make tracks elsewhere. There is something of a myth about Darwin that it’s people are enormously resilient having rebuilt after the bombings in WWII and then again after Cyclone Tracey. But the fact of the matter is that in both cases the vast majority of the population were evacuated and never returned to Darwin. Instead they were replaced by developers, builders and others who sensed the potential to get rich out of the rebuilding.

On the wildlife front, as well as insects, the tropics bring a number of animals that make great handbags, but are less attractive in real life – namely frogs, snakes and crocs. I’m pleased to report we haven’t yet come face to face with a crocodile – except a giant stuffed one – but they have influenced our journey. Because the north has had such a big wet, and we are here right at the end of it, the crocs have entered many of the inland water ways that would normally be considered safe. I had really wanted to go canoeing in Katherine Gorge, but it was banned. Lucky thing, as they caught a 5M croc in the Gorge the day after we left. Here in Darwin we are surrounded by a beautiful harbor in the kind of hot, sticky weather that just makes you want to leap in. But the fact that they pulled 240 crocodiles from the harbor last year, with an average size of 3M makes you think again (and then of course there are the box jellyfish which can kill you even quicker than a croc).

As to the frogs….they won’t kill you. But I have to keep reminding myself of that fact when I discover them hiding under the toilet seat. I have become somewhat used to this phenomenon and am able to balance high above the toilet seat to ensure no frog can jump up my bum – but I have to admit that I drew the line when I found a giant cane toad staring back at me when I opened the toilet lid. On that particular occasion I decided that the bush looked like the preferred dunny!

On the subject of cane toads, this is again something that has changed since our last visit to this part of the world. The cane toads only started to arrive here around 2002, and by 2006 when we were here last there weren’t all that many. Well they are here in force now – particularly apparent when out of the ‘big’ city. For the non-Australians, the cane toad was introduced in Queensland to get rid of some sort of beetle and has become a complete menace that is spreading slowly west and south. The toad has a poison in the top of its head that kills the animals that eat it and as a result is threatening the native fauna. We learned at a dinner in Katherine that the cane toad has killed off most of the goanna’s which are the only natural predator to the crocodile (they eat the croc eggs) and this combined with their protected species status has led to a rapid increase in the number of crocodiles in the NT. The other interesting thing we found out is that some animals have already learned to adapt to the cane toad. Crows, for example, have learned to catch the toad, flip it upside down and suck out the innards without touching the poison sack in the top of its head. We saw the remains of a couple of these toads and it looked like something out of an alien movie.

Darwin is big on markets, the most famous of these being the Mindil Beach Sunset Market on Thursday nights. We were lucky enough to be here for the first Mindil market for this dry season. We brought a table and chairs, found a good spot, did a bit of shopping, watched a few bands, ate a ridiculous amount of food from the vast variety of Asian influenced food stalls, had a couple of gins from our eskie, took photos of the magnificent sunset from the beach and left just before the fireworks to escape the traffic jams. A perfect evening!

We also went to the rodeo – a first for me. Bucking broncos, catching bulls, riding bulls – it had it all. Although I must admit there didn’t seem to be that many cowboys who were able to stay on those bulls and broncos so often there was a huge build up for about 1 second of watching someone get thrown off an animal. But we had fun nonetheless.

We’ve learned a lot about Darwin’s role in WWII. Prior to February 1942 Darwin was not exactly a major military hub. However, the Japanese felt that it was a geographically attractive place for the allies to establish a centre for operations in the Pacific – so they decided to “take it out”. On 12 February, 1942 the Japanese bombed Darwin just as they had Pearl Harbour 2 months before -the same Admiral in charge, the same Fleet and the same military strategies. The locals thought the planes were some American fighters returning from a sortie and couldn’t figure out why they were dropping footballs. It wasn’t until the “footballs” started to explode that the realization sunk in. Needless to say, the town was caught completely unaware and most of the ships in harbor were destroyed and all of the planes, civilian and military, were destroyed on the tarmac. Only those American fighters, which eventually did return from their sortie, actually put up a fight. More bombs were dropped on Darwin that day, than had been dropped on Pearl Harbour (although I think they were smaller bombs).

Following the bombing the city was taken over by the Australian and US military. Even the prison was seconded and all the prisoners were released. On the way up the Stuart Highway you can still see the makeshift airstrips that were established during the war. Before reaching Darwin, in places like Katherine, Adelaide River and Oodnadatta and all along the old Ghan railway line we saw the staging posts used to bring troops north. By the end of the war the north had been bombed 64 times, but as the Japanese had predicted Darwin had become the nerve centre for the Australian fighting in the Pacific.

The government of the day tried to keep the Japanese bombings under wraps to avoid panic in the south. The newspapers did report some bombings but the magnitude of the attacks and the number of casualties was played down. Eventually the word got out as evacuees headed south, but locals tell us that to this day Australians are often surprised to learn of the enormity of the attacks.

Today is our last day in Darwin before I fly off to the UK to see my beautiful and much loved nieces, and Dennis flies off to Melbourne to see his family and (you guessed it) play golf. So expect a lull in the blogging for a couple of weeks. I hand over now to the bushman himself for his regular report of golf and other adventures. I must mention that Dennis was clearly feeling that without the beard he didn’t look like enough of an adventurer, so at the markets he bought himself a crocodile tooth necklace. While he is in Melbourne please be sure to notice this, and feel free to poke fun!

Before signing off, I’ve had a request from Steve Hynes (are you listening Steve) to provide our observations on the aboriginal ‘situation’. I’ve put these as an addendum at the end of this report, so that those not interested can easily skip it. Over to Dennis……..

Another good report from Steph, which leaves me with only a few things to add, Last night we went on a Harbour cruise on a large Catamaran, saw the sunset and ate Crocodlie which was very tasty along with some smoked Barrumundi: great Aussie tucker. A special mention to Marion (now really good at remembering peoples names) and Brenton who we met on the road and have spent some time with them in Darwin and who provided more insights into local life here. Darwin has some very good golf courses and at this time of the year they are very lush after the wet, I played both Darwin and Palmerston the first with more success than the latter, interesting at Palmerston they have a policy where any club golfer in Australia and possibly the world can play in club competitions as a complimentary guest, should be a policy adopted by more clubs (this makes Palmerston the cheapest place to golf at $10 beating Gunedah $13.20 on Saturdays) Again met some interesting people and had fun in new golf courses.

The thing that sticks out for me about Darwin is that after the cyclone only 10,000 people returned from 45,000 at the time. Today there are some 125,000 people which is remarkable population growth and yet it all seems so relaxed here, no traffic problems, great infrastructure and good climate for 8 months of the year. The other stand out is the Bombing of Darwin, the death , the destruction and how close the war really was to all of us.

When we return from a 10 day break we are off to Wooliana for some Barrumundi fishing so looking forward to that and then westward Ho.

Finally we have been on the road for 8 months and seen a lot of this country, the one thing that I am sure of is that 12 months or so is not long enough to see it all.

No Doubt Politically Incorrect Musings on Aboriginal Australians

I’ve been avoiding this because it’s just such a complicated subject and any honest observations are certain to be seen as politically incorrect. But one thing I can say is that the intervention seems to be having a visible effect on public drunkenness in the NT. As a left-leaning, bleeding-heart southerner I was against the intervention as I felt it intruded in the aboriginal peoples’ rights to self determination. But if you compare what we are seeing on this trip, with what we saw on a previous trip to the NT in 2006, it seems obvious that the strict alcohol laws introduced and enforced as part of the intervention have all but eliminated the terrible public drunkenness that had made places like Tennant Creek and Katherine so utterly distasteful. I might add that these places now compare favourably with towns in other states with large aboriginal populations – places such as Bourke in NSW or Coober Peedy in SA. In both those towns we saw a lot of drunken and violent behaviour on the streets, begging in front of the liquor stores, public brawling, etc etc. We’ve seen none of that in the towns we’ve travelled through in NT.

Now, here’s the thing. Maybe it’s only public drunkenness that’s reduced, and in fact aboriginal people are still getting stinking drunk in the privacy of their own homes and communities. A distinct possibility given the line ups one sees in the liquor stores. But my feeling is that even if it’s only public drunkenness that’s diminished, this is a really positive step. I say this because my other observation about aboriginal Australians is that they seem to be caught in a spiral of disrespect. The more European-Australians have treated the aboriginals with disrespect, the more the aboriginal people have lost confidence and behave in ways that can only lead to contempt, so the more disrespect grows and the cycle continues. It’s a chicken and egg thing – what needs to come first, being treated with respect, or behaving in a way that commands respect? At the very least, the reduction in public drunkenness makes it less difficult to respect the aboriginal people.

The other BIG observation regarding aboriginal people is the plain and simple fact that their children are not in school. We know this because we encounter them (generally with their parents) in the shops and on the streets throughout every school day. I don’t know if the intervention has made a difference to the magnitude of this problem, but it certainly hasn’t fixed it. We’ve read some interesting stuff from Noel Pearson, and there was a similar message being preached by Mal Brough on the front page of the Australian last week – the number one priority for aboriginal education has to be attendance, the rest can follow. If there is one thing with the potential to break the spiral of disrespect it is education surely.

I must emphasise that we have had very little to do with the aboriginal people themselves. Any comments in this blog are based solely on observations made from the outside looking in.

ANZAC Day Special Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 25 Apr 2010 09:45:00 +0000

As I write Anzac Day is coming to a close. For the non-Australians in the audience Anzac Day is the national day of remembrance in Australia, the 25th April marking the anniversary of the landing at Gallipoli in WWI. Over 2,000 Australians lost their lives on that single day, and over the course of the campaign over 8,709 Australians died. The day is generally marked with a dawn service to correspond with the time the Australians first went ashore.

Today we attended a dawn service at Adelaide River, about 120k south of Darwin. You might think this to be an unremarkable place for a dawn service, but as it turns out it is pretty special. Here is the war cemetery that was created especially to bury the servicemen who died during the Japanese bombings of Darwin and in the Timor Sea battles during WWII. So here lie the only Australians to die on their own soil in war (excluding the indigenous people which is another story altogether). A total of 434 military and civilian personnel are buried here, almost all Australian, but there was also 1 Canadian.

The cemetery is an absolutely beautiful place. Green, lush and peaceful: with a carefully manicured bronze plaque marking each grave. The service was packed and very moving. The birds started singing before the service began. A young 12 year old girl played the last post. The local school choir sang. Moving speeches were made by politicians, military and veterans. Both Dennis and I shed a tear or two. I’ve put below the words from a poem written by a Vietnam Vet which was read at the service…pretty much shredded me so have your hankies ready.

After the service the community welcomed everyone to the Showgrounds for a free breakfast and a couple of games of two-up. A big and very eclectic crowd was in attendance – military, scouts, locals, travelers and the NT chapter of the Hells Angels bikies.

There is one thing we have noted in so many places on this journey and failed to mention previously, and now seems a fitting time to share it with you. As we pass through the small towns and remote parts of Australia we have been struck time and again by the terrible toll that war has taken on this country, especially WWI. So often we have sat having lunch in some park and noticed the plaque commemorating the locals who died serving their country and it is shocking to look around and figure the total population of this place can’t be more than 100 and yet 20 young local men died in WWI. I know that WWI was terrible in its human toll, but somehow it feels so much more real when you realize how it must have decimated these tiny communities. We were reminded today that Australia was only 14 years old when the ANZACS landed at Gallipoli – a difficult start for a young country and all in the name of territorial squabbles on the other side of the world.

We crossed the Tropic of Capricorn about 5 days ago, and there is no question that we are in the tropics now – hot, steamy, lush and lots of frogs in the toilets. More about that in our next edition, in the meantime we both wish you a peaceful and serene Anzac Day!

And now here’s that poem I promised earlier:

HE WAS A MATE

He was a mate, a real good mate 'e was,
A friendly sort of feller, liked a joke;
And if it had to happen, it's a shame
It had to happen to such a decent bloke.

But - ah, fair dinkum, don't it make you wonder
What God in Heaven's thinkin' about up there;
The way He chooses who to sacrifice
To me somehow it doesn't quite seem fair.

You'd think He'd want to take a bloke like me
Who'd be no loss to no-one here on Earth;
But no, He always seems to pick the best
Whose life amounts to ten times what mine's worth.

But I suppose He'd say it's not His fault,
It's us and how we treat our fellow man;
And if too many good blokes' lives are lost
We can't just blame it all on His great plan.

He slung us here on Earth and said "Righto,
Get on with it you blokes, the world is yours";
But all we've done is fight among ourselves
And destroy each other with our endless wars.

Now, there's a sort of aching here inside,
I can't quite put my finger on what's wrong;
But a soldier can't afford to feel this way,
He's got to grit his teeth and carry on.

So how's a bloke supposed to deal with this?
I know they trained me well, I can't complain;
But this is somethin' you don't learn about
When they teach you how to play the soldier's game.

They teach you how to shoot and how to kill,
You even learn which enemy to hate;
But nowhere in their training do you learn
How to live with the loss of a real good mate.

Lachlan Irvine

Julie Stribling Memorial Run

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 16 Apr 2010 06:18:00 +0000

Today was the runnng of the Julie Stribling Memorial Fun Run. Put together by the team at Julie's workplace, the run was to remember Julie and her love of running. The 10k run kicked off at 6pm local time and included many of Julie's colleagues, Chris (Julie's partner) and, of course, Emma, Lucy and Holly cheering everyone on from the sidelines.

At least for this year, the Memorial Run included an Alice Springs contingent. Unfortunately 6pm Greenwich Mean Time is 2:30am Australian Central Time. But undaunted Stephanie set out to run 10km, with her trusty support crew Dennis following in the car behind. Emma was on the other end of the phone, letting us know when to start. The night was very dark, clear and cool (well, bloody cold if you weren't running).

Finished the run in 58m 37s and am assured that Julie would have found that time satisfactory. Came back to camp and Dennis immediately went back to bed. Meanwhile, back in the UK, all the other runners went out to the pub. Did I feel ripped off? Ummm......YES!

I want to put in a big thank you to Dennis for being willing to wake up at 2:15am and then sit in a car travelling at 10kph for an hour. Outstanding performance! I also want to thank Shane, Renee, Kristie and Jamie who will be doing their own 10k run/walk on Sunday to honour Julie - she would be so completely blown away!

If anyone else wants to do something to remember Julie, I commend to you the efforts of Julie's best friend in the UK. Helen is running in the London Marathon this year in Julie's honour - an amazing commitment. She has contracted to raise £2500 for Tommy's, a local children's charity, and still needs another £850. Anyone wanting to do something in Julie's honour should consider giving to support Helen (even a really small amount). You can make donations by clicking on this link: http://www.tommys.org/Page.aspx?pid=205&erid=164086&frsid=1652. And another big thank you to those of you who answered my earlier call to help Helen - you guys are amazing.

Sorry, this has been a bit of an indulgent blog entry - but it's been an important event for me and I wanted to mark it.

A land of drought and flooding rains

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 09 Apr 2010 03:19:00 +0000

I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of drought and flooding rains....

We are seeing this country as it has not been seen in decades. The rains have come to northern Queensland in a big way and the waters are working their way down Cooper Creek toward the Murray, causing floods wherever their path crosses. It has been raining in places that haven't seen rain for over 10 years. It's an exciting but complicated time to be travelling across Australia.

The really exciting thing is the life that seems to have sprung from nowhere. In the Flinders Ranges the locals told us that we were priveleged to witness the country as it has not been seen since 1974 (even to me that seems like a long time ago). The hills are green, the creeks are filled with water, there are wildflowers growing out of seemingly impossible places, and wherever you look the place is teaming with life - tadpoles, birds, flies (sadly) and a plague of the biggest grasshoppers you have ever seen.

We're back in Alice Springs (more on that later) and they have had 18" of rain since Christmas - almost unheard of. The red centre looks like someone has thrown a green carpet over it. It's a completely different place to the town we visited in November. Green and lush - but also hot and muggy (in November the humidity was 2%, today it's 74%) and teaming with more of those giant grasshoppers, flies and mosquitoes.

And here's some late breaking and exceedingly exciting news......it rained heavily overnight here in Alice and this morning the Todd River is an absolute torrent. It was an amazing sight. Yesterday the river bed was dry and dusty - all the previous rains having evaporated in the heat. This morning I swear it looked like the Congo River it was flowing so fast. They say you aren't a local here until you've seen the Todd River flow....could this be our new home?

All this rain has affected our plans, and we're currently having to operate one day at a time. We had intended to go up either the Birdsville or Strezleki Track SE from the Flinders and into Queensland - but both tracks are closed due to flooding and expected to stay that way for weeks. So we decided to head SW on the Oodnadatta Track and then north from there - meaning we will miss Queensland altogether. We did that trip in a very short 2 days with only an overnight in Oodnadatta (which has NOT improved with rain, still a hell hole, just a hell hole with alot more flies!) Turns out that the Oodnadatta Track was closed 2 days after we got off due to sudden rains. I can't imagine the horror of being stuck in Oodnadatta waiting for the roads to dry out.

Having changed our plan, we recalibrated and decided to head to the Gulf of Carpenteria from Alice for a little adventure and fishing. Looks like we will now have to shift to plan C - as that area was hit by Tropical Cyclone Paul last week and doesn't look like the roads will be navigable. So we're staying put here for a week of so while we figure out what to do next.

The water has also added to our own small adventures. When we first got to the Alice area we headed out to the West Macdonnell Ranges for a couple of days. Dennis and I got up early on the first morning to do the Ormiston Pound walk - a very popular walk billed as a medium 3-hour walk. We got to the trailhead and there was a big warning sign advising that due to flooding the track was now only suitable for "very fit and agile walkers" and there was a "possibility that you may need to swim in parts". The new GI-Joe-Dennis poo-pooed the warning - "if we run into water we can always turn around" was the decision. Needless to say we did run into water - 2.5 hours into the walk. With the choice of turning around and walking all the way back or getting a bit wet the choice seemed obvious - so we forged ahead. I went first and any idea I had that I was going to be able to wade across quickly went by the wayside as the water was almost immediately over my head. I was OK swimming at first but then my backpack started to fill with water and get heavier and heavier. I was really starting to panic a bit when I finally got to the edge and was able to grab onto a rock ledge. Meanwhile Dennis is sputtering on the other side and I'm asking myself how the hell I'm going to tell Rose that I drowned her son. But he regained his breath and pressed on and somehow managed to edge his way around the side without actually having to swim. We both escaped unscathed, scrambled up to a trail higher up and returned to camp seriously buggered and down one camera! (By the way, the picture on the left is the LAST picture to be taken by our small camera.)

On the subject of adventure I must also report that we managed to get bogged again - and once again had to be rescued by good samaritans. I realise that reports of us getting bogged are now getting to be old news, but this occasion was momentous as DENNIS WAS DRIVING. As a result we are witnessing a complete change of attitude in Dennis. He has now decided that getting bogged is just "part of the process" and could happen to anyone.....interesting!?

The excitement of the rains and flooding has somewhat overshadowed the report on the Flinders so let me back track a bit. I couldn't recommend the Flinders area more highly - it is simply a stunning part of Australia. We spent almost 3 weeks in the area which stretches north from the flat, agricultural and quite green areas near Melrose, to the rocky, harsh Outback territory near Leigh Creek. We spent most of the time on 4WD trips or walking and enjoyed exploring the diverse landscape.

One of the real highlights of our time in the Flinders was a 2 night stay at Wirrealpa Station, where we had a chance to meet Warren and Barbara who own and run the station. They were incredibly hospitable and interesting people and we both learned alot about life on a station. What struck me the most was the realisation that station life seems to be reaching an end - it's simply no longer a viable way for independent families to make a sustainable living. We saw this in northern NSW and we were seeing it again in the Flinders. Warren's family has been on that land for 4 generations. When he was growing up the property had 20 or so musterers, farm hands and labourers. Now it's just Warren and Barbara, working over 600 square miles of property. The drought has meant that they can no longer afford labourers - but also the mining boom has ensured that no affordable labour is available even if you could afford it. Like so many others they are grappling with the dilemna of how to pass the farm onto their sons. My heart goes out to the people on the land in this country. More and more they are realising that the land cannot give their children a sustainable life.....yet it is what they have known and loved all their lives. I might mention too that whilst the rain is very welcome for people like Warren and Barbara, the cost of livestock means that the only way they can get their numbers back to sustainable levels is to work hard to breed from their existing herds. That means that they need at least 3 years of good rains. So the drought isn't over for them yet.

Over to Dennis now for more on the wet and, of course, the golf report!

Mike Hall has termed this part of our trip "Survivor" in a telephone conversation about the latest adventures. Not only is the wet effecting us and the insects, the vehiiles are now getting some repairs and servicing to ensure we continue relatively trouble free. Yesterday I played golf at Alice Springs with a few of the locals. One guy, Murray, has lived here all his life and told great stories of when there were 150 people in the town, now its more like 30,000: talk about population strategies. This is the part of the trip that I really like as I have written before, its meeting great people with lives so individual that you don't come across living in the city.

From here we go further North heading to Darwin (if it ever stops raining) to do some Barra fishing amongst the crocodiles, Mike may be right, this is Survivor! All great fun and for my kids, Dad will take care.

To all of the readers of the blog keep those comments coming, we love hearing from you.

NEWS FLASH: Beard Goes

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 25 Mar 2010 06:48:00 +0000

The Bush Tucker Man has decided the time has come to shave off his beard. Too much teasing at the Bagwana I suspect, although he claims to have grown tired of constantly finding yesterday's dinner in his whiskers.

This picture not only demonstrates the clean shaven look of my favourite bushman, but also his total exhaustion after his latest training effort. Yesterday we did a 21km trek to the top of St Mary's Peak, the highest peak around Wilpena Gorge. He was a legend and at the conclusion advised me that it was "a piece of piss for a trained digger". (He's a bit grumpy today, but claims there is no connection.) Anyway, he was a great sport, because the walk was advertised (by me) as 14km but we took a wrong turn and went the long way.

Back to the beard.....or absense of one. We agree that the clean shaven look does make him look younger, and that's a good thing because tomorrow (probably today by the time you receive this) Dennis turns 59! We are going out to lunch at Parachilna to enjoy their famous "Road Kill Feral Mixed Grill". They tell us that you can get Telstra 3G reception if you stand in exactly the right spot in the middle of the road outside the pub.....but I suspect you will have trouble getting through. However, we expect lots of messages of good wishes (use my number 0414 924 846). This means you Shane!!