Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Blizzard






















I think it was Peter Allen, or perhaps his slightly less feminine writing partner Carole Bayer-Sager who penned the immortal line "....Don't wish too hard for what you might want, because then you might get it..." in one of their unforgetable hits of the 80's, the rest of which fortunately I have forgotten. Well, we left Darwin because it was too hot, and Hobart seemed like a good idea for some relief from the heat and humidity. We wandered down the Heritage Way, pausing to inspect the occassional gorgeous historical village, before arriving in Hobart for a spot of lunch at the wharf. "What about a trip up Mount Wellington ?" I said, "Remember when we were here last time, the clouds were so thick (it was February) that there was no view at all." So we laboured up the hill to the summit to be greeted by a blizzard. When we left Hobart, the temperature was 14 degrees, and the wind was calm. At the summit (1270 metres), the temperature was 0 degrees, and the wind gale force. No view further than 20 metres, and a long and very, very slow descent driving back down in the snow. Perhaps something between Hobart and Darwin weatherwise would be nice !

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Christmas with the Devils









































































































































Lovely undulating back roads through NSW Tablelands and the edges of Wollomi National Park took us to Canberra. First we had to stop and gawp at the Golden Guitar in Tamworth. We made rather slow progress as we kept stopping to rescue turtles from the middle of the road.
















In Canberra, we were lucky to be guided through the old parliament building by Malcom Mackerras, a psephologist (that is someone who studies election results), and used to be a political commentator on the ABC. David kept encouraging him to more and more obscure analysis of the Australian political system and was duly impressed by the depth and lehgth of his answers while the other members of the party....But we all liked the story of the MP who in 1927 was asked his opinion of the new federal capital declared :"good sheep country spoiled".
















We also visited the Deep Space Centre at Tidbinbilla, with huge dishes pointed at the sky and lots of space and NASA memorabilia. The introductury leaflet said the Aboriginal name means "where boys become men", Cecile thinks they got it wrong and it should read the other way round.
















We screamed down the Hume Highway to the Holbrook Ultralight Aviation Museum only to find it closed. Cecile was SO disapointed. But she did get very excited on spotting the Lost Dog ambulance, as her daughter Julia designed the pictures for the vehicle.
















We briefly caught up with rellys in Melbourne before catching the Spirit of Tasmania. Bass Strait was like a mill pond and we are now in deligthfully cool Tassie.
















Christmas morning was spent walking around Lake Dove in Cradle Mountain. After the paucity of old buildings in the Top End we love driving around picturesque villages. Cecile wants to adopt a Tasmania Devil, after visiting a wildlife shelter and watching six juvenile Tassie Devils tearing the top half of a wallaby to pieces and devouring it, bone, fur and all, in a very short time.
















Merry Christmas to you all from Cecile
















Ba humbug from David.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Travelling South









































































































































After a delightful sojourn in Melbourne for the Wedding, which turned out to be tasteful, charming, moving and fun (Many congrats Bec & John) and a jolly lunch with my folks, We set out from Darwin and headed south along the Stuart Highway, and then picked up the Carpentaria Highway just as the heavens opened. Although it is sealed, the word highway is a bit of a misnomer at this point. A narrow strip of pot-holed and decaying bitumen is more accurate. We encountered our first floodway (first of 10,000) after a few kilometres, and launched the hybrid car into the stream, stealing nervous glances at one another as the water deepened. As we surfaced, I brought the car to halt with the realisation that this could mean big trouble, as going back may now be as difficult as going on. More by good luck than good management, subsequent water events were mild by comparison, as we continued nervously on to Cape Crawford, and the Heartbreak Hotel. When we arrived we had not seen another vehicle for 250 kilometres. By the way, Cape Crawford hasn't seen the sea for 10 million years. We shared the Heartbreak Hotel with a road gang, some truckies and hundreds of cane toads and frogs. The frogs were everywhere. I visited the outside loo, and upon finishing my business, flushed as usual. As the water splashed into the bowl, a pair of legs appeared from beneath the rim, then scrambled back out of sight. Intrigued, I flushed again, and a little frog splashed into the bowl, and quickly hopped back under the rim. My first thought was unease at the thought of my having been in such close proximity to this and possibly other animals with my naked bum, but then considering the nature of my transaction, my second thought was 'poor frog'
















We also met Ian and Eileen, parents of 2 large and noisy dogs. Ian is in the Australian Army, and had toured both Iraq and Afganistan. He told us a very depressing anecdote. Apparently in both of those countries, the bashing of women has assumed the status of a national sport. A British police officer who had had great success in combating crimes against women at home was recruited and sent to Iraq to mentor the new Iraqi police force in this area. He habitually commenced his speecehes in England by asking "Who in this room bashes his wife ?" Upon receiving no positive responses, he then went on to say that this unanimous vote was his objective for the whole of society. Unfortunately when he asked the same question of a thousand Iraqi policeman, they all raised their hand. The British policeman left after a couple of days.
















We picked up the Tablelands and then Barkley Highways on our way to Mount Isa. En route we were lucky enough to see a pair of Brolgas dancing next to the road, a real David attenborough moment. Interestingly, the land around Mount Isa is beautiful and undulating with a semi tropical forest covering interestingly shaped hills. 'The Isa' is also impressive in a brutalist zinc smelting sort of way, and in common with other mining parts of our two track economy, very expensive. My prejudices were confirmed in Katter Country by an advertising campaign against domestic violence which is in full swing in the town. Presumably the victims of these crimes are the army of aesthetically challenged women which the Mayor had tempted to Mount Isa over the years.
















After Mount Isa, it was Cloncurry, Winton, and then Longreach to enable Cecile to spend time at the Qantas museum and The stockmans Hall Of Fame. It was after a couple of days there that we struck our first real problems occasioned by the flooding. Each time our planned route turned south, we were forced further east by road closures. at one point we travelled 60 kilometres south along the Landsborough Highway, which we had been assured was trouble free, only to have to retrace our steps when confronted by 3 metres of raging torrent across the road. So we travelled from Barcaldine to Emerald, then Biloela and Mundubbera, regularily changing directions to avoid problem roads. We arrived at Toowoomba, which lived up to its name of Queenslands garden city, and which also miraculously appears to have escaped the Queensland development disease and retains an excellent stock of distinguished old buildings.
















We then crossed the international border and stopped at Tenterfield, where, at his birthplace, we paid homage to the Sacred Memory of Peter Allen, and then more flippantly visited the site of Sir Henry Parkes speech which created the idea of modern Australia.
















On then, via the New England Highway to Armidale, an extremely picturesque but still vibrant and wealthy relic of early colonial settlement, and now home to Australias first rural University. The University is built around the old homestead Booloominbah, at one time the largest private house in the country.
















Out of the tropical conditions in Darwin, bushwalking is back on the menu, and we have indulged ourselves with treks on each of the last few days, taking advantage of the sightseeing provided by boiling and overflowing rivers and gushing waterfalls, and the wonderful National Parks in the area.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Litchfield National Park






















A few week-ends ago, we decided to explore Litchfield National Park, rated by many TopEnders as a mini Kakadu. Well, this may be a bit of an exageration, but it still revealed some fascinating sights, among others huge fileds of magnetic termites mounds (so called because of their North-South alignement) and the gigantic and aptly named cathedral termite mounds.






We walked along deligthfully shaded (and croc free!) creeks, pools and cascades and got very close to some rock wallabies.






At the time we got very excited at seeing a dingo. But we have since realised that dingoes venture right into suburban Darwin and recently have been reported attacking medium size dogs on the leash out for a walk in the local park .






The bush is never very far in Darwin, even in the ultra modern city centre. on Sunday afternoon, our gentle stroll around central, yuppy Cullum Bay was given an added twist when a long yellow and brown snake crossed the footpath right in front of us and disapeared up a tree. We are glad the wildlife is alive and well, but are not sure we want to get quite so close to some of it.

Indulgence in the tropics
















Dear Readers, your faithful blogonauts have little to report, except much toting of that bail. We did indulge ourselves with high tea at Burnett house, a National Trust property at Myilly Point. In the 1930's the Government build a series of houses for senior colonial administrators, and one of them is now open to the public. The house was hit by a bomb in 1942, and damaged by Cyclone Tracey, but has been restored, and the national Trust raises funds by putting on a high tea every Sunday. The houses are utterly charming, wood lined, with an open plan design, and in a pre air conditioning age, every room can be fully opened to sea breezes behind shutters and fly screens.





The only other event of note occurred this evening at Nightcliff Pier, the venue for our daily picnic. We made friends with a blind man, who each evening goes to the pier for his tea and a couple of stubbies. Once settled, he takes the special harness off his seeing eye dog Liam, and this means that the dog is officially off duty, and can have a relax. Tonights relax consisted of taking me for a walk, whether i liked it or not.





We are going to Tasmania. Why you might ask ? Answers to be submitted with a self-addressed envelope......

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Much ado about nothing




Now I like music. I've always liked music, and my tastes in music, unlike my tastes in religion are very catholic. I've been known to rock on, air guitar, and conduct an imaginary symphony all in the one minute. Unfortunately music has become the bane of my existence. My colleagues at KTAS also like music. so much so in fact, that they insist in playing music all day (and night) at work. Alas, the only music available is what is called "walk on" music, a collection of modern music pap, the greatest hits of 2008 selected by QANTAS with a view to causing the minimum offence to passengers as they board and disembark. A non changing selection of 12 tracks, which is often played at force 8 on the Richter scale. I've made my distaste clear, and the most common reaction is an incredulous 'how can you not like it?'


The other morning was rather fraught with late 'planes, and early crews, and at one point I suggested that we could all do with a rest from the music. Ezekial laughed at the suggestion, and Barry turned the music up. A QANTAS engineer arrived and turned the music off saying that he couldn't work in that racket, and proceeded to tinker with something technical, and I silently thanked him, but all too soon he left, and Barry walked from the rear of the 'plane to the cabin control panel at the front, to reset the music even louder than before. I said to him that since we had had three months of his entertainment selection, perhaps it was my turn to choose, and I preferred silence. "Don't be ridiculous" he responded. I decided to take my case to the leading hand. She is a hugely, grossly, grotesquely fat asian lady who waddles into planes, and who is permanently out of breath. She speaks in a whisper between gasps. She reminds me of a caterpillar - the iridescent yellow safety jacket she wears helps to complete the illusion - have you ever noticed that as a caterpillars legs move backwards and forwards in groups, they create the illusion of waves ? Well with the leading hand the waves are in the blubber and can be observed moving up and down her body as she walks. When she occasionally (very occasionally) moves a little quicker, it is interesting to observe the phenomena of newly generated waves being created before earlier waves have had the chance to dissipate. The new waves travelling north meet the old waves travelling south, usually around the midriff, and this collision produces ever more interesting patterns and forms. I would not want you to imagine that she is wholly unattractive however, her moustache for example lends her a sort of raffish air, reminiscent from certain angles of the young David Niven in 'Prisioner of Zenda'


Anyway, I explained to the leading hand that after 3 months, it was surely reasonable for me to have a choice of listening. She looked at me and smiled. At least I think she smiled, she certainly opened her mouth and bared her teeth in my direction - teeth tastefully colour co-ordinated with her jacket by the way - and moved over to the control panel, and turned the music up ! I suppose that is why QANTAS supplies ear plugs for its customers.




Films seen recently




Me and Orson Welles ****


Wild Target ****


Made in Dagenham ****


The Girl who played with fire **


The Kids are all right **


Creation **


Farewell **