Australia #4 And now for something completely different

You may not know this, but I'm a bit of a wimp. I'm scared of moths flapping around me. I won't eat crab because I once heard someone say they were allergic to it, and I didn't want to take the risk that I might be too. I'd never hang-glide, or do a parachute jump, even tandem, or anything like that. I'm scared of heights, crowds and, most important to this post - of being out of my depth, whether in a swimming pool, or the sea.

So you can imagine that a trip to the Great Barrier Reef, while it is something I really, really wanted to do, was not something I was feeling relaxed about.  The trip we went on promised a glass bottom boat  trip, as well as a guided snorkel around the inner reef, so I was somewhat more relaxed. I put on my stinger suit, just in case I fancied a paddle, tried on a mask and flippers (you have to show willing), and hopped on to the boat to transfer to the low isles.

The trip over the reef was fascinating - I saw turtles and giant clams and loads of fish. We came ashore with time to spare, so, with no pressure to keep up with the rest, or to go out of my comfort zone, I tried a bit of a snorkel, and, buoyed up by a bright yellow noodle, before I knew it I was over the reef, looking at schools of multicoloured fish, small clams and sea cucumbers galore. 

I'd like to say it was a fear overcome, but in normal circumstances I think I'll still keep in my depth.

One thing I'm not afraid of is bats, and just as well, given that Port Douglas is home to a huge colony of fruit bats. Every evening around sunset the lorikeets fly in to roost, and in so doing oust the bats from their perches in the trees. Initially the bats come in ones and twos, but before you know it they are filling the sky overhead, swooping and landing in the trees beside our little home. They are absolutely amazing creatures, so graceful and so huge!

And finally from Port Douglas, a few photos: a metre long crocodile seen from the paddle boat The Lady Douglas, and some views of the rainforest at Mossman Gorge.  Back to Sydney tomorrow...

Australia #5 A Snapshot

I'm sitting writing this at ten a.m. in the sitting room of our Airbnb house - a little Victorian terrace, in the once notorious (but now up and coming) Surry Hills.

The girls left early this morning to do the Sydney Harbour Bridge Climb. As I write I guess they are firmly attached to a rail and miles up in the air above the Parramatta River.  Outside the sun is shining, the washing is drying.  A bird is pecking up the crumbs I threw out from my breakfast toast - a moment ago he was squabbling with his friend on the flat roof of the kitchen extension, reminding me of the pigeons that scrabble around on the glass roof of my friend Doreen's conservatory in Halse.  In the park behind the yard, a mother is encouraging her small son as he learns to pedal his bicycle. Her shouts of praise end suddenly as there is is the inevitable bump of the bike hitting a bin, and the child's screams.  Like any mother anywhere she soothes him, and then tells him that the only thing to do is to get back on and keep trying.  That this is the only way to learn.

Sydney is, in so many ways, just like England.  Even the summer is like a lovely English summer, a cool breeze tempers the heat and it yesterday we woke to rain.

But it is also very, very different.  There is much more room here. In general the roads are wider, and the traffic less fast and furious. The trains are almost empty, as are the pavements. Here, if you go shopping, all the shop assistants want to talk to you, to know where you're from, how long you are staying - the purchase of clothing is secondary to getting to know you. There's no hustle and bustle. None of the desire to rush everywhere with your head down, tutting in annoyance when people cross your path. 

I find I am liking this place more and more. I like its 'can-do' attitude. I like the laid back style. I like the way families go to the beach after school. I like the way perfect strangers engage you in conversation and wish you a pleasant stay in their country. 

Last night we went to the opera - for only the second time in my life. The setting of Sydney Opera House is definitely posh, but the opera itself (The Barber of Seville) was hilarious, and brilliantly done. It was wonderful and we came out to the warmth of a Sydney summer evening feeling relaxed and happy - Australian even!

Australia #3 Port Douglas - a history lesson

For over ten thousand years, before the first settlers arrived here in the mid 1800's, Port Douglas  was a place of supreme importance and reverence for the indigenous peoples of the area.  They called it Jabukanji. It was here they met for matters of law, diplomacy, religion and burial.  All the nations from the area would gather and camp while the business at hand was settled and then they would return to their own lands and continue their hunter-gatherer lifestyle, moving around from place to place as the changing seasons dictated.

All that came to an end when gold was discovered in the Hodgkinson River.  This discovery brought settlers, who then discovered minerals and tin in the area.   By the mid 1890's , a mere 20 odd years after the beginning of settlement, the original population of the area was decimated, and those who remained were rounded up, supposedly for their protection.

The European settlers built up a town which, at its peak, boasted 27 hotels, but increased communication meant that the population diminished, and a cyclone in 1911 pretty much destroyed the town. Tourism was the towns saviour, and resulted in its growth from a population of around 100 in 1960, to a place that now ranks high amongst the best towns in Austalia.

Mossman Gorge from an inlet at Port Douglas

Tomorrow we go to Mossman Gorge, where the indigenous peoples were settled in the 1930's. The website (www.yalanji.com.aus) says: "Bamanga Bubu Ngadimunku Inc. is the association that advocates and represents for the Mossman Gorge Community and seeks to gain a sustainable future for the community" 

There is no putting right the wrongs of the past. I hope that the future holds more understanding and tolerance. 

Australia #2 - Skipping on

I will write about Sydney, honestly, but I just have to skip a few days and tell you about this amazing place - with thanks to Sid for telling us about it.   Port Douglas is a little town of wide streets and friendly people.  It's on the edge of the rainforest, so it can be wet, but the forecast for our stay is a blissful 33 degrees and cloudless every day. The young waitress at our restaurant on Thursday said how wonderful it was that it had cooled down after a very muggy week or two - it was 30 degrees and gone 7pm!

There's a long sandy beach, with a netted area for swimming in.  The sea is so warm it's like stepping into a bath; the waves are gentle and it doesn't seem to get busy - no crowds hustling for space like there can be in Europe.  

And we are staying in a lovely little cottage - The Artist's Nook, which is crammed with art and artefacts.  There are books on every surface and the garden is a joy.  It's perfect.  

We have lazed around, eaten well, swum and meandered around this little piece of paradise and are so     happy to have been able to. Thanks again, Sid!

The Australian Adventure #1 To begin at the beginning...

About four days ago we woke to a wet February morning at the Premier Inn on Bath Road, near Heathrow's Terminal 2. Just a note here, in case you ever plan to visit - there are two Premier Inns on Bath Road near Heathrow Terminal 2.  It's as well to know which one you want to get to...

So, yes, wet, windy, chilly February. A check in, a bag drop, an Airbus 380, some bizarrely timed meals and 12 and a half sleepless hours later we arrived to - a wet, windy, stunningly hot February morning in Singapore.

How can I tell you about Singapore? There's just so much to say - and we were only there two days. Here are some of the things that spring to the top of my mind...

It's clean. Very clean. The public loos are pristine, the basins wiped after every use, the floor gleaming, the walls meticulously scrubbed.

There's no litter. Not one little piece.

There are some sort of mynah birds that scoot in to clear crumbs - like our pigeons,but so much more delicate and curious, that put their heads on one side to observe you, and primp up the feathers on their heads while making a strange sort of gurgling noise.

There is amazing food, in so many varieties you are so spoilt for choice you just get hungrier and hungrier while trying to decide where to eat.

There's Raffles, with the Singapore Sling, and the gift shop whose prices made my eyes pop from their sockets.  It's so crowded with tourists I can't imagine staying there is much fun, but peering in at the dining room with its polished silver and guests partaking of high tea (tiny cucumber sandwiches and delicate cakes on cake stands) was redolent of colonial times.

There are vast shopping centres where you could take a wrong turn and be lost for days.

There are friendly, helpful people, both in the service industry and on the street, who take what seems a genuine interest in visitors. 

There's a huge underpass under a road junction where young men practice their street dancing, ignored by groups of friends and families picnicking complete with picnic blankets, tupperwares full of sandwiches and thermos flasks on the gleaming marble-tiled floor.

There's the river, sadly now as pristine as the city, but beautiful nonetheless.

There's Little India, which took us straight back to Kolkata. Full of men standing around, shopping, gossiping...

There's an amazing skyline, with an hotel that is topped off with an ocean liner!

Look, I could go on and on.  One or two people said, no, don't stop off in Singapore, it's soul-less.  Others said it was one of their favourite places.  I know that I'd go there again in a heartbeat.

#Extra! Guest Post by Andy Hill

Hamish - A Dog with a tale......

In Cambridge Mass. this year, whilst visiting our nephew Tim, his wife Allie, and children Binnie and Bronwyn, we met for the first time their (75%) Labrador, Hamish.  He is no longer in the first flush of youth, a little grey around the muzzle, but no one can tell us how old he is as he is a rescue dog.  Not so unusual (and of course most of our UK canine friends are rescues) but this is a little more unusual in Massachusetts.  First of all Massachusetts has quarantine regulations and out of State dogs are just not welcome.  Also most Massachusettians  are kind to their dogs and very few are offered for adoption.

On the other hand, down in Louisiana, if you move home (or just move on) some people just leave their canine friends behind with their old unwanted lives.  There is an efficient dog collection service which rounds them up and accommodates them in a sort of 'Dog Death Row' where they wait for up to fourteen days, their paws already shaved for where the electrodes are to be attached.

Now fortunately there is a dedicated dog friend down there who has set up a kind of dating service to contact the lonely humans in New England …..    'Brown eyes; early stage halitosis only; already castrated; GSOH; etc; etc.'   Once photos have been exchanged, up to twenty dogs are liberated and placed in a van to be taken north.  Stopping only for regular toilet breaks they drive on until rendezvous is eventually achieved at a secret location, probably in a Supermarket car park somewhere in New Hampshire. The dogs are introduced to their delighted new owners who take them home to somewhere near the cradle of American Independence.  Our friend makes the lonely journey back stopping only for his own toilet breaks until he arrives home to hose out the back of his van.  The whole process then begins again in preparation for the next trip.

So Hamish is a very fortunate dog indeed, even though he still suffers a crisis of confidence every time he sees someone packing a suitcase.  These days he realises this is just a short family vacation to which he is always invited.

Authors note:  I have been asked to point out that in the USA dogs and other pets are euthanased by lethal injection, just as they are in the UK.

Los Gatos

Arriving in Los Gatos is, in so many ways, like getting home: an English cup of tea; yoghurt and fruit for breakfast; a comfy sofa; plenty of rooms to spread out in; books to read and, of course, family.  But - here's the thing, it's also very, very different.  Every day starts and ends with brilliant blue skies and a startlingly hot sun.  The streets are empty of people - everyone takes their car wherever they go, no matter how short the journey.  Despite the wonderful weather, washing is almost always dried in the tumbler. Water is so short that while you can build a new swimming pool or install a new hot tub, you can't fill it.   And the birds that feed on the bird feeders are not your common or garden bluetits and sparrows - they are hummingbirds.

Los Gatos is a town of just over 30,000, founded in the mid 1800's and named for the mountain lions that used to come down from the nearby Santa Cruz mountains. Near to the famous Silicone Valley, one of its largest employers is Netflix, who are currently building even more offices to accommodate their expansion.  

Caro and Mike at the Winchester Mystery House

It's a good hub from which to explore the area around: there's the Winchester Mystery House, where the heiress to the Winchester rifles fortune had workmen build continuously in order to save herself from the ghosts she believed were haunting her; there is the glorious coastline of Santa Cruz, where surfers sit around on their boards, waiting for the next wave, while seals bask nearby and pelicans fly overhead; there are so many fabulous restaurants to eat out in; there are reservoirs to walk around (if you are prepared to dodge the cyclists and joggers); there are numerous wineries where you can taste the local wines; but best of all there are friends and family to catch up with over wine, wine and more wine...

After the wine tasting...

All in all, a great trip.  Here's to next time...