Thursday 27 January 2011
Wednesday 26 January 2011
Brisbane
Friday - Stopping off at Brisbane en route to see Chris's aunt, Margaret, and her husband, Tom, who live at St George in the Outback several hundred miles west of Toowoomba, Queensland's largest inland town.
We are staying with the Killen family - Margaret's son, James, his wife, Chris, and their children Kate (12) and Fraser (10).
Arrive at Roma Station. No let-up in the rain, but we embark on self-guided tour of inner city, which takes us a few hours. Jump on fast Citytrain to Nundah, a suburb of Brissie where the Killens live. Chris is at station to meet us and she drives us to her home where we meet Kate and Fraser and, later, James following his return home from work. Enjoy dinner together and getting to know them all.
Learn that St George has been hit by floodwater - the river there is continuing to rise rapidly and could reach a record high of some 6m. Fortunately, Margaret and Tom are safe and out of danger, but the town itself is cut off.
Chris, meanwhile, tells us that she and her children had to turn back as they got within just miles of Toowoomba a few days earlier because continual rain had led to awful road conditions. They had been trying to collect their dog, Sox, from family, but his holiday has been extended for the time being.
Twenty-four hour news channels warn of worsening weather conditions and that a flood alert is imminent. Concerned at this stage that journey to St George - we are due to travel across country on Monday - may not happen, but hoping that situation will improve by the weekend.
Saturday - Despite the heavy downpours there are bursts of sunshine and we make the most of our weekend with Chris, James, Kate and Fraser. Spend smashing day with them seeing Brisbane's sights after enjoying trip down the river on the fast CityCat ferry. River reminds us very much of the Thames in the way it twists and turns through city. Same murky brown colour too.
Shown around South Bank - a green area alongside river. It's full of cafes, restaurants and boasts a 'beach' and large lagoon for swimming. The Bank is also home to a world-class modern art gallery and other significant cultural centres. We enjoy early evening pasta meal at Italian restaurant before returning to James and Chris's home by train.
Still trying to keep as positive as possible about St George, but with the rain unrelenting throughout Queensland we know in our heart of hearts that we won't be able to make the journey.
We are bitterly disappointed. We would have loved to have seen Margaret again (the last time was in Swansea in 2008), and to meet Tom for the first time, while also getting first-hand experience of the Outback. Sadly it is not to be, but we feel we have made the right decision.
Sunday - The morning brings leaden skies and more rain, but the two of us ask Kate and Fraser if they would like to accompany us to the Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary - the world's first and biggest of its kind.
Kate needs to catch us with some reading, but Fraser is game. James and Chris drop the three of us off - and we have a day to remember. A quick bite to eat in a cafe at the Sanctuary reveals koalas galore (none behind bars or fenced in) busily munching on their staple diet of eucalyptus leaves.
The day also includes a python presentation, sheepdogs in action, sheep-shearing and feeding kangaroos, but the big highlight comes when Fraser and Chris get to hold and cuddle a cute female koala called Crumble. This bundle of fluff and fur is quite simply gorgeous. Chris would love to take Crumble home with her, and we reckon Fraser would too.
Arrive back at Chris and James's home soaked to the skin after kangaroo-feeding session in huge paddock where that hard rain just kept on falling but, despite it all, we are all happy as larry after a cracking day out - and Fraser has lovely picture of himself with Crumble.
Contact former Evening Post colleague and friend Phil Dillon and his wife, Joy, to see whether we can meet up. Phil and Joy are currently living an hour or so north on the Sunshine Coast - at beach and surf town Maroochydore. Hope to spend a day or two with them - weather permitting, of course.
Monday - This is the day we should have been on the road to the Outback and heading to St George. Thank god we decided not to go. Toowoomba has been hit by flash flooding - cars mangled beyond recognition, people trapped on the roofs of their houses and homes wrecked as streets are turned into a raging torrent of filthy brown water.
The single worst affected area, however, is the Lockyer Valley which nestles some 700m below. It has been hit by a massive wall of water, described by observers as an inland Tsunami. Already 12 lives have been lost and there are some 70-plus people missing. It is utter carnage - a shocking tale of death and destruction.
All contact has been lost with the residents there and in the little town of Grantham, and Queensland Premier Anna Bligh declares it a Disaster Area.
We watch the unfolding tragedy on television in horror, so desperately sorry for those who have lost not only livelihoods, but family and friends. And, nagging away in the back of our minds, is the thought that we could have been among those caught up in one of Australia's worst natural disasters.
All we can do is count our blessings that we took the advice not to travel inland. Had we stuck to our original plan we reckon we may have been in or around the Toowoomba area when the water rose and turned a once pleasant garden town into a muddy morass of despair.
Tuesday - Situation just gets worse and worse. Had hoped to travel north by car to stay with Phil and Joy, but the Bruce Highway coast road is now closed north and south as the floods continue to spread and worsen.
Authorities are now warning everyone who does not have to travel to stay at home - and there is increasing concern for Brisbane itself as the river there rises too. They are talking of it peaking at around 5.5m - a staggering and frightening prospect.
James is sent home from work early as the CBD (Central Business District) shuts down. We watch as unbelievalble events unfold before our very eyes.
Premier Bligh is now warning that the river will burst its banks in the next 48 hours and that 32 suburbs and between 20,000-30,000 homes will be affected by floodwater.
Thankfully James and Chris's will not be among them. Nundah is one area not directly in line - and their home is on high ground well away from any creek or gully with the potential to flood.
We have now stayed with this charming family, who have been so kind to us (can't thank you enough for your hospitality), a couple of nights longer than anticipated and now with Brissie about to feel the full force of Mother Nature it's decision time again.
With public transport starting to grind to a halt and traffic going nowhere fast in any direction we'll try to board a flight south to Melbourne as early as possible the next morning.
Brisbane is about to be submerged. It's a no brainer to get out of here as fast as we can before the river swallows up Australia's third largest city in something resembling a sci-fi/disaster movie. Fingers - and everything else - crossed that the airport will be operating normally. Departures here we come.
We are staying with the Killen family - Margaret's son, James, his wife, Chris, and their children Kate (12) and Fraser (10).
Arrive at Roma Station. No let-up in the rain, but we embark on self-guided tour of inner city, which takes us a few hours. Jump on fast Citytrain to Nundah, a suburb of Brissie where the Killens live. Chris is at station to meet us and she drives us to her home where we meet Kate and Fraser and, later, James following his return home from work. Enjoy dinner together and getting to know them all.
Learn that St George has been hit by floodwater - the river there is continuing to rise rapidly and could reach a record high of some 6m. Fortunately, Margaret and Tom are safe and out of danger, but the town itself is cut off.
Chris, meanwhile, tells us that she and her children had to turn back as they got within just miles of Toowoomba a few days earlier because continual rain had led to awful road conditions. They had been trying to collect their dog, Sox, from family, but his holiday has been extended for the time being.
Twenty-four hour news channels warn of worsening weather conditions and that a flood alert is imminent. Concerned at this stage that journey to St George - we are due to travel across country on Monday - may not happen, but hoping that situation will improve by the weekend.
Saturday - Despite the heavy downpours there are bursts of sunshine and we make the most of our weekend with Chris, James, Kate and Fraser. Spend smashing day with them seeing Brisbane's sights after enjoying trip down the river on the fast CityCat ferry. River reminds us very much of the Thames in the way it twists and turns through city. Same murky brown colour too.
Shown around South Bank - a green area alongside river. It's full of cafes, restaurants and boasts a 'beach' and large lagoon for swimming. The Bank is also home to a world-class modern art gallery and other significant cultural centres. We enjoy early evening pasta meal at Italian restaurant before returning to James and Chris's home by train.
Still trying to keep as positive as possible about St George, but with the rain unrelenting throughout Queensland we know in our heart of hearts that we won't be able to make the journey.
We are bitterly disappointed. We would have loved to have seen Margaret again (the last time was in Swansea in 2008), and to meet Tom for the first time, while also getting first-hand experience of the Outback. Sadly it is not to be, but we feel we have made the right decision.
Sunday - The morning brings leaden skies and more rain, but the two of us ask Kate and Fraser if they would like to accompany us to the Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary - the world's first and biggest of its kind.
Kate needs to catch us with some reading, but Fraser is game. James and Chris drop the three of us off - and we have a day to remember. A quick bite to eat in a cafe at the Sanctuary reveals koalas galore (none behind bars or fenced in) busily munching on their staple diet of eucalyptus leaves.
The day also includes a python presentation, sheepdogs in action, sheep-shearing and feeding kangaroos, but the big highlight comes when Fraser and Chris get to hold and cuddle a cute female koala called Crumble. This bundle of fluff and fur is quite simply gorgeous. Chris would love to take Crumble home with her, and we reckon Fraser would too.
Arrive back at Chris and James's home soaked to the skin after kangaroo-feeding session in huge paddock where that hard rain just kept on falling but, despite it all, we are all happy as larry after a cracking day out - and Fraser has lovely picture of himself with Crumble.
Contact former Evening Post colleague and friend Phil Dillon and his wife, Joy, to see whether we can meet up. Phil and Joy are currently living an hour or so north on the Sunshine Coast - at beach and surf town Maroochydore. Hope to spend a day or two with them - weather permitting, of course.
Monday - This is the day we should have been on the road to the Outback and heading to St George. Thank god we decided not to go. Toowoomba has been hit by flash flooding - cars mangled beyond recognition, people trapped on the roofs of their houses and homes wrecked as streets are turned into a raging torrent of filthy brown water.
The single worst affected area, however, is the Lockyer Valley which nestles some 700m below. It has been hit by a massive wall of water, described by observers as an inland Tsunami. Already 12 lives have been lost and there are some 70-plus people missing. It is utter carnage - a shocking tale of death and destruction.
All contact has been lost with the residents there and in the little town of Grantham, and Queensland Premier Anna Bligh declares it a Disaster Area.
We watch the unfolding tragedy on television in horror, so desperately sorry for those who have lost not only livelihoods, but family and friends. And, nagging away in the back of our minds, is the thought that we could have been among those caught up in one of Australia's worst natural disasters.
All we can do is count our blessings that we took the advice not to travel inland. Had we stuck to our original plan we reckon we may have been in or around the Toowoomba area when the water rose and turned a once pleasant garden town into a muddy morass of despair.
Tuesday - Situation just gets worse and worse. Had hoped to travel north by car to stay with Phil and Joy, but the Bruce Highway coast road is now closed north and south as the floods continue to spread and worsen.
Authorities are now warning everyone who does not have to travel to stay at home - and there is increasing concern for Brisbane itself as the river there rises too. They are talking of it peaking at around 5.5m - a staggering and frightening prospect.
James is sent home from work early as the CBD (Central Business District) shuts down. We watch as unbelievalble events unfold before our very eyes.
Premier Bligh is now warning that the river will burst its banks in the next 48 hours and that 32 suburbs and between 20,000-30,000 homes will be affected by floodwater.
Thankfully James and Chris's will not be among them. Nundah is one area not directly in line - and their home is on high ground well away from any creek or gully with the potential to flood.
We have now stayed with this charming family, who have been so kind to us (can't thank you enough for your hospitality), a couple of nights longer than anticipated and now with Brissie about to feel the full force of Mother Nature it's decision time again.
With public transport starting to grind to a halt and traffic going nowhere fast in any direction we'll try to board a flight south to Melbourne as early as possible the next morning.
Brisbane is about to be submerged. It's a no brainer to get out of here as fast as we can before the river swallows up Australia's third largest city in something resembling a sci-fi/disaster movie. Fingers - and everything else - crossed that the airport will be operating normally. Departures here we come.
Tuesday 25 January 2011
Sunday 23 January 2011
Sanctuary Cove, Gold Coast
Wow. Arrive in Sanctuary Cove on the Gold Coast to find that Geoff and Angela - we struck up a friendship at Auckland Airport while waiting for flight to Brisbane back in November - are living at drop dead gorgeous waterfront location.
It forms part of the most exclusive 'gated community' in all Australia, according to the taxi driver who drops us right at their front door after security has waved us in. When we see their property we can only agree.
Their luxury home looks out across a broad waterway to other lovely properties and there's a top-notch golf course seconds away, with the village of Sanctuary Cove nearby. Most residents here travel two ways - by boat, or golf buggy. Both forms of transport have the edge on the car in this knockout spot.
Geoff and Angela, who once lived in Oxfordshire, have kindly invited us to their home to spend a few days with them and we receive a fabulous welcome.
Their property is something special - a stunnning one-level building, with four bedrooms, huge living area and kitchen and outdoor swimming pool. Another feature is a massive deck looking out across the water. Our bedroom is bliss - huge, with a king-size bed and walk-in wardrobe.
Get to know Geoff & Angela over dinner - a great barbie where the wine and conversation flow in equal measure. We feel we have know them for years.
Next morning Geoff takes Angela, ourselves and their friends, John and Pam, out on his speedboat/cruiser to an excellent pub/restaurant located on one of the many waterways chanelling out towards the coast.
The champers and wine is cracked (skipper Geoff stays dry as they are well strict on piloting boat under the influence!) but allows himself one cold beer after we dock right outside restaurant.
Having enjoyed a super boat trip oggling the millionaire properties on the shore, we enjoy a lovely al fresco lunch before return trip. Lots of laughs and stories, and John and Pam who, like Geoff and Angela, are genuine and fun people.
The rain kicks in big time next day, so we cancel plans for trip inland to Tamborine Mountain - a plateau region of gorges, waterfalls and walking trails - and instead spend quiet day comparing notes on our respective adventures in New Zealand.
With the rain having stopped, we decide to eat out in the village. The travel there is unorthodox - time to jump on those golf carts, John with Geoff driving, Chris with Angela at the wheel.
To get to our destination we need to go across pathways on the golf course - Geoff is a member - and we are in for a treat.
There are kangaroos everywhere, on nearly every fairway and green - and not just one or two, but 50 or 60, maybe more, in little pockets of four or five. Even better some of the mums are carrying little Joeys in their pouches.
Lots of ooohs and aaahs from us - this is our first real up close and personal sighting of the roos (and this is no zoo, the course is their natural habitat and at dawn and dusk they are out in force). We feel so privileged to have seen them like this.
After this nature high it's time for drinks at a wine bar before dinner at a Cove waterfront restaurant for oysters, mussels, prawns and steaks (ones you cook yourselves on hot stones). Delicious.
Geoff insists John drives buggy home back over golf course in the dark (the cart does have lights, honest). At least it wasn't along the M4. Welsh rugby fans will know what we are alluding to. He (John) must have done okay as there are no kangaroo carcasses to be seen on the course the next day.
Bid Geoff & Angela a fond farewell next morning - they have been wonderful hosts and friends - and they drop us at railway station for next leg of journey to Brisbane where we have another invite to stay - this time with Chris's cousin, James, his wife, also Chris, and children Kate and Fraser.
It forms part of the most exclusive 'gated community' in all Australia, according to the taxi driver who drops us right at their front door after security has waved us in. When we see their property we can only agree.
Their luxury home looks out across a broad waterway to other lovely properties and there's a top-notch golf course seconds away, with the village of Sanctuary Cove nearby. Most residents here travel two ways - by boat, or golf buggy. Both forms of transport have the edge on the car in this knockout spot.
Geoff and Angela, who once lived in Oxfordshire, have kindly invited us to their home to spend a few days with them and we receive a fabulous welcome.
Their property is something special - a stunnning one-level building, with four bedrooms, huge living area and kitchen and outdoor swimming pool. Another feature is a massive deck looking out across the water. Our bedroom is bliss - huge, with a king-size bed and walk-in wardrobe.
Get to know Geoff & Angela over dinner - a great barbie where the wine and conversation flow in equal measure. We feel we have know them for years.
Next morning Geoff takes Angela, ourselves and their friends, John and Pam, out on his speedboat/cruiser to an excellent pub/restaurant located on one of the many waterways chanelling out towards the coast.
The champers and wine is cracked (skipper Geoff stays dry as they are well strict on piloting boat under the influence!) but allows himself one cold beer after we dock right outside restaurant.
Having enjoyed a super boat trip oggling the millionaire properties on the shore, we enjoy a lovely al fresco lunch before return trip. Lots of laughs and stories, and John and Pam who, like Geoff and Angela, are genuine and fun people.
The rain kicks in big time next day, so we cancel plans for trip inland to Tamborine Mountain - a plateau region of gorges, waterfalls and walking trails - and instead spend quiet day comparing notes on our respective adventures in New Zealand.
With the rain having stopped, we decide to eat out in the village. The travel there is unorthodox - time to jump on those golf carts, John with Geoff driving, Chris with Angela at the wheel.
To get to our destination we need to go across pathways on the golf course - Geoff is a member - and we are in for a treat.
There are kangaroos everywhere, on nearly every fairway and green - and not just one or two, but 50 or 60, maybe more, in little pockets of four or five. Even better some of the mums are carrying little Joeys in their pouches.
Lots of ooohs and aaahs from us - this is our first real up close and personal sighting of the roos (and this is no zoo, the course is their natural habitat and at dawn and dusk they are out in force). We feel so privileged to have seen them like this.
After this nature high it's time for drinks at a wine bar before dinner at a Cove waterfront restaurant for oysters, mussels, prawns and steaks (ones you cook yourselves on hot stones). Delicious.
Geoff insists John drives buggy home back over golf course in the dark (the cart does have lights, honest). At least it wasn't along the M4. Welsh rugby fans will know what we are alluding to. He (John) must have done okay as there are no kangaroo carcasses to be seen on the course the next day.
Bid Geoff & Angela a fond farewell next morning - they have been wonderful hosts and friends - and they drop us at railway station for next leg of journey to Brisbane where we have another invite to stay - this time with Chris's cousin, James, his wife, also Chris, and children Kate and Fraser.
Monday 17 January 2011
Happy New Year in Sydney
December 30 - Have enjoyed our time among the stunning Blue Mountains. Now down to the serious stuff - New Year's Eve in Sydney. Up early for the two-hour drive back to the city. Manage to retrace our steps through the suburbs thanks to the excellent map-reading skills of Mrs W (no Sat Nav, we are trying to keep to a bit of a budget, honest).
Staying three nights at Manly - different accommodation (not remotely as nice as Darren's and Adele's in Freshwater). In fact, this one is a rip-off (pokey describes it in a nutshell) considering what they are asking, but our hands are tied as everywhere seems to be full and accommodation prices have trebled - something to do with NYE perhaps! On the upside it's a three-minute stroll to Manly seafront where we enjoy some swimming and a lazy lunch.
New Year's Eve - Set off around 10am from the North Shore on Manly-Sydney ferry on a perfect day - clear blue skies and sunshine. Sunnies (sunglasses) on and picnic in the rucksacks. Taken advice from locals on good vantage point to see midnight fireworks and they have suggested Milson Point, opposite side of Harbour Bridge from Opera House.
After docking at Circular Quay, we walk across bridge. Already little park there filling up with people, but we find a little patch to call home for the day and get chatting to our 'neighbour' Jacqueline, who has been doing this for years and knows the routine like the back of her hand.
She is very kind to the Welsh 'tourists', lending us a sun umbrella and is also more than happy to keep an eye on our gear while we wander off occasionally.
It's a bit like a rock festival - but without the music - with a great atmosphere down on the waterfront and we are grateful to Jackie that we can come and go as we please (it's a long, long time until that clock ticks down to 2011).
We break up the day with a couple of coffee and pub stops (John happy to find cider on tap at the Kiribilly a couple of hundred yards up the road).
Nine pm sees a mini fireworks display designed for families with young children and, before you know it, we are counting down to midnight and the real deal. Ten, nine, eight .... and so on it's Happy New Year accompanied by a 12-minute fireworks spectacular from the bridge that lights up not only the harbour, but the Opera House and downtown high-rise skyline opposite us, while hundreds of boats lit up with fairy lights dazzle like jewels on the water. Stunning, although we admit to missing Big Ben's chimes.
Fun and games over, the masses disperse slowly, but the bridge doesn't reopen to pedestrians until 1am. No worries. We linger to watch fellow revellers make their way home before a weary walk back to the city and the quay to catch a very noisy and boozy ferry back to Manly around 2.30am. At 3am we crash into bed exhausted, but well happy that we have experienced such fabulous celebrations.
New Year's Day - After late start to morning (surprise, surprise) manage to send our New Year greetings home via Skype. Had intended to do part of Manly Scenic Walkway, but it's a sweltering start to 2011 and, quite frankly, we are whacked.
A much better bet all round is a lovely corner Greek taverna. Grab a table outside in the shade and spend idyllic couple of hours over moussaka and lamb skewers, washed down with a couple of beers and lots of ice cold water, watching the world go idly by.
Late afternoon (temperature has cooled nicely) sees us head for a nap on the beach, while the Manly surfers stoke it up on the breakers. So much for that New Year's Day walk we had promised ourselves. Oh well, there's always next year.
Jan 2 - Head into heart of Sydney for couple of nights and find cheap (well cheap for city)accommodation in Chinatown. John hoping to see if he can land ticket to watch first day of final Ashes Test series between Australia and England at the SCG (Sydney Cricket Ground), but is not too optimistic as famous old venue only holds 46,000 spectators.
Have travelled on ferry with cases and rucksacks and then by bus to hotel (no taxis). What savvy travellers we think we are. Not remotely savvy was our choice of restaurant to eat that night in Chinatown. We had planned on going budget, but end up paying rather more than we had anticpated. Savvy? Not a bit of it on reflection.
Still a decent enough meal and a nice end to an afternoon spent walking around the Darling Harbour marina, Sydney Fish Market (if you like fish then this is a must) and the old and interesting Pyrmont region (take in some live blues music at rambling old pub on bridge early evening).
Jan 3 - First day of final Ashes Test and John learns it's a sell-out despite England having won the series. Chris has sights on spending a day by herself to catch up on a few things (shopping), so he'll head across city to SCG to soak up a bit of the atmosphere and on the off-chance that a tout might be flogging a spare ticket.
Major result (not England's eventual win). Stumbles across an Australian fan desperate to unload a couple of tickets he has been given as a birthday present. Some of his mates who had planned to join him couldn't make it so he has spares and, with wickets pitched in under an hour, needs to unload them fast. John picks up a $90 ticket for $60 and can't believe his luck.
While Chris enjoys some retail therapy, John (his seat turns out to be a good one) enjoys the cricket. Not the best day's play perhaps - a couple of rain interruptions - but Barmy Army in good voice and it ends with England turning the screw again.
That night we end up in a karaoke bar in Chinatown and enjoy a good laugh (no we didn't participate) before heading back to hotel with Thai takeaway (much cheaper and better) supper.
Jan 4 - Heading off to Gold Coast to stay with Geoff & Angela, a lovely couple we briefly met on flight from Auckland to Brisbane several weeks ago. They have invited us to their home in Sanctuary Cove for a few days.
Dodgy-looking shuttle bus (can't get seat belts to work) picks us up to take us to airport. Bus arrives early (we haven't checked out of hotel yet) and when we eventually get on are met by frowns from other travellers. Not our fault, guys. A cheery good morning from Chris does nothing to appease glum-faced fellow passengers. No response. What a miserable bunch. What's the problem. You have hours to spare.
Smooth flight into Brissie where airport train take us south to Helensvale and link-bus to the Gold Coast to meet up with Geoff & Angela.
Staying three nights at Manly - different accommodation (not remotely as nice as Darren's and Adele's in Freshwater). In fact, this one is a rip-off (pokey describes it in a nutshell) considering what they are asking, but our hands are tied as everywhere seems to be full and accommodation prices have trebled - something to do with NYE perhaps! On the upside it's a three-minute stroll to Manly seafront where we enjoy some swimming and a lazy lunch.
New Year's Eve - Set off around 10am from the North Shore on Manly-Sydney ferry on a perfect day - clear blue skies and sunshine. Sunnies (sunglasses) on and picnic in the rucksacks. Taken advice from locals on good vantage point to see midnight fireworks and they have suggested Milson Point, opposite side of Harbour Bridge from Opera House.
After docking at Circular Quay, we walk across bridge. Already little park there filling up with people, but we find a little patch to call home for the day and get chatting to our 'neighbour' Jacqueline, who has been doing this for years and knows the routine like the back of her hand.
She is very kind to the Welsh 'tourists', lending us a sun umbrella and is also more than happy to keep an eye on our gear while we wander off occasionally.
It's a bit like a rock festival - but without the music - with a great atmosphere down on the waterfront and we are grateful to Jackie that we can come and go as we please (it's a long, long time until that clock ticks down to 2011).
We break up the day with a couple of coffee and pub stops (John happy to find cider on tap at the Kiribilly a couple of hundred yards up the road).
Nine pm sees a mini fireworks display designed for families with young children and, before you know it, we are counting down to midnight and the real deal. Ten, nine, eight .... and so on it's Happy New Year accompanied by a 12-minute fireworks spectacular from the bridge that lights up not only the harbour, but the Opera House and downtown high-rise skyline opposite us, while hundreds of boats lit up with fairy lights dazzle like jewels on the water. Stunning, although we admit to missing Big Ben's chimes.
Fun and games over, the masses disperse slowly, but the bridge doesn't reopen to pedestrians until 1am. No worries. We linger to watch fellow revellers make their way home before a weary walk back to the city and the quay to catch a very noisy and boozy ferry back to Manly around 2.30am. At 3am we crash into bed exhausted, but well happy that we have experienced such fabulous celebrations.
New Year's Day - After late start to morning (surprise, surprise) manage to send our New Year greetings home via Skype. Had intended to do part of Manly Scenic Walkway, but it's a sweltering start to 2011 and, quite frankly, we are whacked.
A much better bet all round is a lovely corner Greek taverna. Grab a table outside in the shade and spend idyllic couple of hours over moussaka and lamb skewers, washed down with a couple of beers and lots of ice cold water, watching the world go idly by.
Late afternoon (temperature has cooled nicely) sees us head for a nap on the beach, while the Manly surfers stoke it up on the breakers. So much for that New Year's Day walk we had promised ourselves. Oh well, there's always next year.
Jan 2 - Head into heart of Sydney for couple of nights and find cheap (well cheap for city)accommodation in Chinatown. John hoping to see if he can land ticket to watch first day of final Ashes Test series between Australia and England at the SCG (Sydney Cricket Ground), but is not too optimistic as famous old venue only holds 46,000 spectators.
Have travelled on ferry with cases and rucksacks and then by bus to hotel (no taxis). What savvy travellers we think we are. Not remotely savvy was our choice of restaurant to eat that night in Chinatown. We had planned on going budget, but end up paying rather more than we had anticpated. Savvy? Not a bit of it on reflection.
Still a decent enough meal and a nice end to an afternoon spent walking around the Darling Harbour marina, Sydney Fish Market (if you like fish then this is a must) and the old and interesting Pyrmont region (take in some live blues music at rambling old pub on bridge early evening).
Jan 3 - First day of final Ashes Test and John learns it's a sell-out despite England having won the series. Chris has sights on spending a day by herself to catch up on a few things (shopping), so he'll head across city to SCG to soak up a bit of the atmosphere and on the off-chance that a tout might be flogging a spare ticket.
Major result (not England's eventual win). Stumbles across an Australian fan desperate to unload a couple of tickets he has been given as a birthday present. Some of his mates who had planned to join him couldn't make it so he has spares and, with wickets pitched in under an hour, needs to unload them fast. John picks up a $90 ticket for $60 and can't believe his luck.
While Chris enjoys some retail therapy, John (his seat turns out to be a good one) enjoys the cricket. Not the best day's play perhaps - a couple of rain interruptions - but Barmy Army in good voice and it ends with England turning the screw again.
That night we end up in a karaoke bar in Chinatown and enjoy a good laugh (no we didn't participate) before heading back to hotel with Thai takeaway (much cheaper and better) supper.
Jan 4 - Heading off to Gold Coast to stay with Geoff & Angela, a lovely couple we briefly met on flight from Auckland to Brisbane several weeks ago. They have invited us to their home in Sanctuary Cove for a few days.
Dodgy-looking shuttle bus (can't get seat belts to work) picks us up to take us to airport. Bus arrives early (we haven't checked out of hotel yet) and when we eventually get on are met by frowns from other travellers. Not our fault, guys. A cheery good morning from Chris does nothing to appease glum-faced fellow passengers. No response. What a miserable bunch. What's the problem. You have hours to spare.
Smooth flight into Brissie where airport train take us south to Helensvale and link-bus to the Gold Coast to meet up with Geoff & Angela.
Monday 10 January 2011
Blue Mountains
Blackheath - Farewell to Sydney for now - we'll be back in plenty of time to make those New Year's Eve celebrations - and hello to the Blue Mountains.
Pick up a rental car and Darren's first-rate directions ensure that we get there inside two hours.
The mystical mountains, rising from scores of hidden valleys below, are appropriately named - they are swathed, particularly during late afternoon, in a blue haze created by oil from millions and millions of eucalyptus trees.
We hope to stay in or around Katoomba, the region's main town, but find it bursting at the seams. The local tourist office points us in the direction of Blackheath, some 10 minutes drive away, and a small roadside motel there will do nicely as base for few days.
Spend late afternoon in national park just off small town of Glenbrook. Stumble across pretty pool surrounded by rocky crags and lush vegetation. We are the only ones there, with just the sounds of the surrounding forest for company.
Try to find Red Hand Cave - an old aboriginal shelter with wall carvings - but the pot-hole ridden and bumpy unsealed road just gets worse and worse (no-one else appears to be travelling along it) and, with only very low clearance on our vehicle, we reluctantly turn back. Hope to spot some kangaroos, but out of luck.
Call into so-called country pub early evening for grub - mediocre fare and an indifferent attitude. (You wan't to pay by credit card?). Shock, horror. Yes, we do actually, if that's alright with you.
The Three Sisters - The Sisters (legend has it that they were siblings turned to stone to save them from the unwanted clutches of an evil suitor) are the crowning jewel of the Mountains, which rise in some sections to 1100m.
They make up part of an incredibly scenic rock formation (we understand there were once seven, but that four have long since crumbled into the vast chasms below) jutting up from the floor of the sublime Jamison Valley.
We head out to Echo Point to take in a panoramic vista, but the only way to escape the swarms of fellow tourists ogling the Sisters from countless viewing platforms is to complete a three-hour bush walk, which involves trekking down 900 steps called The Giant Stairway at one end and up 1,000 more - The Furber Steps - at the other. In between is a relatively straightforward, but muddy, base walk along the Federal Pass deep in the heart of the eucalyptus forest.
The first part of The Stairway proves tough going - mainly because we are trying to edge our way past the masses on an incredibly steep and narrow hike down - but, thankfully, the crowds soon disappear to a trickle as we make our seemingly endless descent to the valley floor.
Once the screeching of hundreds of cockatoos die down there is only stillness. The world below is one of trees, ferns, moss, light and shade and, ahead in the distance, tumbling waterfalls and cascades.
Our valley floor walk complete, we now face the daunting prospect of The Furber Steps - there are actually 1,040 of them. It takes us, with a couple of stops to take a breather, 40 minutes (we beat the estimated time by five) to reach the top before we clamber back to Echo Point exhausted but exhilarated.
Feeling very pleased with himself, John reckons he deserves a drink or two. We head into Katoomba where he plonks himself on a barstool at a watering hole owned by the famous Aussie actor Jack (Petersen, Breaker Morant, Australia) Thompson. (How does JW find these places? Our travelling companion Lonely Planet, of course, is the answer).
Film posters of Thompson adorn the wall of the Hotel Gearin - and John, knowing he is going to ache like he has never done before, enjoys a leisurely hour sipping a few schooners, while Chris heads for a cafe to enjoy a coffee before checking out the quirky little shops and Art Deco buildings which line the street of the region's biggest town.
Back in Blackheath we can muster just enough energy between us to grab a takeaway pizza before crashing into bed and falling into the deepest of sleeps.
Megalong Valley - Sure as eggs John is aching from head to toe. Well his napper is okay, but his calf and thigh muscles have completely seized up. He likens how he feels to a car engine with no oil.
Today is a day in the rental car (hope that does have has oil) to explore the Megalong Valley - fertile green land dotted with bush and gum trees and with spectacular views of the giant sandstone plateaus and gorges of the Blue Mts.
There are some long and lovely walking trails (you have got to be joking, Chris) along the way - but we give it a miss, pulling over instead to gape at the scenery from our car window. Pathetic effort, really.
Foot firmly on the gas pedal and air con on, we point the car in the direction of Hargreaves Lookout for more stunning views of this wondrous area and Govett's Leap, from which we can see the Bridal Veil Falls - the highest in the Mountains.
On the way back to Blackheath pull into the historic ghost town of Hartley - a tiny abandoned village which once flourished in the 1830s before falling into decline when the railway took its custom elswhere some 50 years later.
Manage a very short stroll around some historic buildings (John is wincing at every step) and a picnic on a grassy knoll. Two chocolate lollies in souvenir shop costs us nearly eight dollars. Time to beat a hasty retreat. No wonder the place is a ghost town.
Round off day with another pub nosh (different place to the one we first tried, but no better and surly bar girl, with face down to her boots, didn't help. Actually she was so awful it was hilarious in a Fawlty Towers kind of a way). In hindsight, should have returned to Jack's joint in Katoomba. Top pub & happy staff there.
In fairness, 'Mrs Danvers' was exception rather than rule. The vast majority of locals we have met on our travels have gone out of their way to be welcoming, hospitable and immensely kind.
This lady, however, must have been having a bad hair day or, perhaps, it was losing The Ashes wot dun it. They do like their cricket a bit here in Oz, of course, whether male or female, but no need to be such a sore loser Sheila. Give England credit where credit is due - they were a zillion miles better than your lot wearing the baggy green cap.
Go on then, luv, we'll have the fish 'n' chips - but only if they come with a smile.
Pick up a rental car and Darren's first-rate directions ensure that we get there inside two hours.
The mystical mountains, rising from scores of hidden valleys below, are appropriately named - they are swathed, particularly during late afternoon, in a blue haze created by oil from millions and millions of eucalyptus trees.
We hope to stay in or around Katoomba, the region's main town, but find it bursting at the seams. The local tourist office points us in the direction of Blackheath, some 10 minutes drive away, and a small roadside motel there will do nicely as base for few days.
Spend late afternoon in national park just off small town of Glenbrook. Stumble across pretty pool surrounded by rocky crags and lush vegetation. We are the only ones there, with just the sounds of the surrounding forest for company.
Try to find Red Hand Cave - an old aboriginal shelter with wall carvings - but the pot-hole ridden and bumpy unsealed road just gets worse and worse (no-one else appears to be travelling along it) and, with only very low clearance on our vehicle, we reluctantly turn back. Hope to spot some kangaroos, but out of luck.
Call into so-called country pub early evening for grub - mediocre fare and an indifferent attitude. (You wan't to pay by credit card?). Shock, horror. Yes, we do actually, if that's alright with you.
The Three Sisters - The Sisters (legend has it that they were siblings turned to stone to save them from the unwanted clutches of an evil suitor) are the crowning jewel of the Mountains, which rise in some sections to 1100m.
They make up part of an incredibly scenic rock formation (we understand there were once seven, but that four have long since crumbled into the vast chasms below) jutting up from the floor of the sublime Jamison Valley.
We head out to Echo Point to take in a panoramic vista, but the only way to escape the swarms of fellow tourists ogling the Sisters from countless viewing platforms is to complete a three-hour bush walk, which involves trekking down 900 steps called The Giant Stairway at one end and up 1,000 more - The Furber Steps - at the other. In between is a relatively straightforward, but muddy, base walk along the Federal Pass deep in the heart of the eucalyptus forest.
The first part of The Stairway proves tough going - mainly because we are trying to edge our way past the masses on an incredibly steep and narrow hike down - but, thankfully, the crowds soon disappear to a trickle as we make our seemingly endless descent to the valley floor.
Once the screeching of hundreds of cockatoos die down there is only stillness. The world below is one of trees, ferns, moss, light and shade and, ahead in the distance, tumbling waterfalls and cascades.
Our valley floor walk complete, we now face the daunting prospect of The Furber Steps - there are actually 1,040 of them. It takes us, with a couple of stops to take a breather, 40 minutes (we beat the estimated time by five) to reach the top before we clamber back to Echo Point exhausted but exhilarated.
Feeling very pleased with himself, John reckons he deserves a drink or two. We head into Katoomba where he plonks himself on a barstool at a watering hole owned by the famous Aussie actor Jack (Petersen, Breaker Morant, Australia) Thompson. (How does JW find these places? Our travelling companion Lonely Planet, of course, is the answer).
Film posters of Thompson adorn the wall of the Hotel Gearin - and John, knowing he is going to ache like he has never done before, enjoys a leisurely hour sipping a few schooners, while Chris heads for a cafe to enjoy a coffee before checking out the quirky little shops and Art Deco buildings which line the street of the region's biggest town.
Back in Blackheath we can muster just enough energy between us to grab a takeaway pizza before crashing into bed and falling into the deepest of sleeps.
Megalong Valley - Sure as eggs John is aching from head to toe. Well his napper is okay, but his calf and thigh muscles have completely seized up. He likens how he feels to a car engine with no oil.
Today is a day in the rental car (hope that does have has oil) to explore the Megalong Valley - fertile green land dotted with bush and gum trees and with spectacular views of the giant sandstone plateaus and gorges of the Blue Mts.
There are some long and lovely walking trails (you have got to be joking, Chris) along the way - but we give it a miss, pulling over instead to gape at the scenery from our car window. Pathetic effort, really.
Foot firmly on the gas pedal and air con on, we point the car in the direction of Hargreaves Lookout for more stunning views of this wondrous area and Govett's Leap, from which we can see the Bridal Veil Falls - the highest in the Mountains.
On the way back to Blackheath pull into the historic ghost town of Hartley - a tiny abandoned village which once flourished in the 1830s before falling into decline when the railway took its custom elswhere some 50 years later.
Manage a very short stroll around some historic buildings (John is wincing at every step) and a picnic on a grassy knoll. Two chocolate lollies in souvenir shop costs us nearly eight dollars. Time to beat a hasty retreat. No wonder the place is a ghost town.
Round off day with another pub nosh (different place to the one we first tried, but no better and surly bar girl, with face down to her boots, didn't help. Actually she was so awful it was hilarious in a Fawlty Towers kind of a way). In hindsight, should have returned to Jack's joint in Katoomba. Top pub & happy staff there.
In fairness, 'Mrs Danvers' was exception rather than rule. The vast majority of locals we have met on our travels have gone out of their way to be welcoming, hospitable and immensely kind.
This lady, however, must have been having a bad hair day or, perhaps, it was losing The Ashes wot dun it. They do like their cricket a bit here in Oz, of course, whether male or female, but no need to be such a sore loser Sheila. Give England credit where credit is due - they were a zillion miles better than your lot wearing the baggy green cap.
Go on then, luv, we'll have the fish 'n' chips - but only if they come with a smile.
Saturday 8 January 2011
Christmas week in Sydney
Dec 20 - Nothing quite prepares you for that first sight of Sydney Harbour, even if it is through the window of a Qantas plane. It's a ripper view - stunning headlands and rocky coves, gorgeous sandy bays, sparkling blue water and, for good measure, the magnificent Harbour Bridge and iconic Opera House. Jaw-dropping just about sums it up.
Shuttle bus picks us up at airport and heads out to the North Shore towards Manly. We are staying in Queenscliffe-Freshwater area in lovely accomodation - a Balinese-type home with swimming pool which owners Adele and Darren have built behind their home.
This looks just the ticket for our week - taking in Christmas Day and Boxing Day - in Manly and Sydney. Nice to find they have left some goodies in the fridge too - very thoughtful. We already know that we are going to love our time here.
Dec 21 - Get to know Adele and Darren and their two daughters Brae and Tate and their two twin pedigree dogs Bonny and Missy. Family and the two adorable and very friendly canines make us feel extremely welcome (the terriers become regular visitors to our temporary abode).
Take a 15-minute stroll to Manly Beach, walk the foreshore, watch the surfers strut their stuff on some big breakers and then head to the wharf to catch the ferry into Sydney.
It's a 25-minute journey - and, just like jumping on New York's Staten Island ferry offers you the finest view of Manhattan, so too this sea voyage into Circular Quay lets the harbour uncover her best secrets. Now we get close up to the Opera House on our left, with the gigantic bridge looming ahead of us. An added bonus is the weather - blue skies and wall to wall sunshine.
Take a walk to The Rocks area. The site of the city's first European settlement, it was once the haunt of drunken sailors, prostitutes and criminals - an area riddled with vice and disease. Today it's a different story. With many of its historical buildings preserved, it is thriving thanks to the tourist dollar. Pubs, cafes, shops and art galleries cater to the masses.
Decide to join a free three-hour guided walk around Sydney. Run by Justine, a student and native of the city - she works on a tips only basis - the tour proves so informative, arming us with great knowledge on what to do and see and how to get the best out of the city without spending a king's ransom.
Tired, but exhilarated, we head back to Manly for more staggering harbour views - it's dusk now - but in plenty of time to take a dip in the pool, catch a few cold ones and grab a Chinese takeaway.
Dec 22 - Spend most of the morning trying to sort out accommodation for New Year's Eve and New Year's Day. We are planning to see 2011 in on the banks of Sydney Harbour close to the bridge. Everywhere seems chocfull, but eventually we find a small place in Manly itself - just three minutes walk from the beach.
Happy that we have got somewhere to lay our hats for a three-night spell, we decide on another visit to the city - this time wandering through the Royal Botanical Gardens (lush), the Museum of Contemporary Art (hit & miss) and onto the concrete steps of the Opera House (hot).
Three little South Korean children stop John and ask him if he has time to be interviewed about sport. He is happy to oblige and their eyes light up when he talks to them about soccer and rugby - they know all about Ryan Giggs (South Koreans are football crazy), but not Ryan Jones.
Interview over, they thank John and bow to him. It's we who should be bowing to them - they made our day.
Dec 23 - Our apartment is in residential area and, just like home, everyone in the area is preparing for the big day. The Christmas decorations are out, the lights are twinkling at night, the office parties are in full swing - Santa's Grotto is alive and kicking Down Under.
Back in Sydney (we have been lured once again by its charms) we are toying with the idea of doing the Bridge Climb, which consists of putting on a headset, grey jumpsuit and attaching yourself to a chord and doing a three-hour climb to its very summit.
Two of our great friends back home - Charles and Liz - have been there, done that and got the T-shirt (well done both of you, it's a real achievement) and we debated long and hard about following, quite literally, in their footsteps. In the end we decided against it because the prices to 'conquer' the bridge had, in our book, shot up dramatically over the Christmas/New Year period - a bridge too far you could say.
Instead we took the cheap (in other words free) option, walking across it from one side to the other and back again, which again offered great city and harbour views - but it was hot work.
Christmas Eve - It's the big day tomorrow and we get an invite from Adele and Darren to join them at their home for breakfast. Knocked out by such a kind gesture and readily accept. Decide on Christmas Eve trip to mega-famous Bondi Beach (it's held a record-breaking 35,000 on its sands on Christmas Day before now) and already the backpackers clad only in swimmers, bikinis and Santa hats are pouring off the buses and heading towards the surf and sand.
Good luck kids, but it's not for us (we haven't packed our swimmers or Santa headgear. That's our excuse and we're sticking to it), so opt for walk along clifftop with magic views south across to Tamarama and Bronte beaches, among others. Quite a panorama.
On the way back stop to peer across at top surfers riding the Bondi rollers and down at the swimmers doing lengths at Bondi Icebergs club where ocean comes crashing into saltwater pool and bow-tied waiters serve up fresh seafood and wine to patrons.
Feeling a tad Bondied-out, we head for the altogether gentler experience of Watsons Bay - another fine clifftop walk gives us views across both North and South Heads - and a delicious fish and chips in the basket lunch at Doyles on the wharf before returning to the city by ferry (the Watsons Bay one this time).
Back in the city we decide to split up (only temporary folks, honest). Chris manages to book the day's final one-and-half-hour guided tour of the Opera House (culture), while John (in the interests of history) decides on his own (no guide necessary) tour of some of Sydney's oldest watering holes.
Chris loves viewing the interiors of the various auditoriums for opera, dance, concerts and theatres and gets opportunities for photos from some of the best balconies.
John loves the Australian Hotel, Lord Nelson Brewery Hotel and the Hero of Waterloo.
Everone happy - and thirsts for culture and history (okay drinking) whetted - and reunited, it's back to Freshwater for a meal in a cute little Thai restaurant before finally tumbling wearily into bed.
Christmas Day - What a way to start it. Absolutely spoilt rotten. We join Adele, Darren, Brae and Tate for a superb breakfast of delicious cooked ham, smoked salmon and scrambled egg, champagne, fresh fruit, toast and coffee.
We bid our goodbyes for the day - they are having family over for lunch and party later - and we, for the first time in our lives, are going to spend December 25th on the beach.
But first we phone home and speak to Hannah and Emma, Chris's mum, Pauline, and Emma's boyfriend, Jack, on Skype. They are on top form and just finishing off their Chinese meal - a Christmas Eve tradition for our family in Swansea.
We then load up the Esky (cool box) - Adele and Darren have loaned it to us - with smoked salmon, tiger prawns, champers and other goodies that we bought at the local farmers' market the previous day. Swimmers, towels, sun umbrellas and chairs too (again thanks to kindness of our hosts) and picnic in tow it's off to Freshwater Beach. It's 11.15am and 30C. There are plenty of like-minded families already camped on the sands, and the surf is up.
Spend gorgeous summer's day (bizarre to write that) just chilling out, taking a couple of dips, watching the surfers do their thing before tucking into our Christmas Day picnic. Yum, yum.
Think about the girls and what they will be doing soon (we are 12 hours ahead) - a little bit of hiraeth creeping in now - before heading back to apartment.
Adele and Darren's party still in full swing and they invite us to join them for drinks on their patio, which we do.
Just before turning in for the night we Skype the family again at the home of Chris's sister (Joy) and brother-in-law Alan. Able to see Beth and Jon's new bundle of joy, Leah, and big sister Ella, who was clearly enjoying opening the presents that Santa had brought.
We too were happy with what Santa had brought us - a day to remember on the other side of the world, despite missing being with all the family.
Boxing Day
A lie-in. Bliss. Not such a nice day - overcast and with a sprinkling of fine rain. But today is the start of the world-famous three-day Sydney to Hobart yacht race and, as it's on our doorstep, it's too good an opportunity to miss.
Darren drops us off near entrance to national park on North Shore. Walk the rest of way (perfect for blowing away the cobwebs) and pick our spot to see start of race.
We are not disappointed as hundreds and hundreds of boats of all sizes and description flood the harbour to see off the competitors taking part in one of the toughest races - the Bass Strait is notorious - on the ocean.
It starts from the Heads at 1pm and we have a top vantage point. After about an hour the yachts, with masts of all colours, are well out to sea and on the way to Tasmania.
The rain has stopped now and we'll head for Manly Beach this afternoon - and a quick dip (John's up for a bit of body-surfing). Tomorrow we'll be saying our farewells to Adele, Darren and family. We are heading off inland to the Blue Mountains for three nights before returning to Australia's top city for New Year's Eve and the promise of the most spectacular fireworks on Planet Earth.
Shuttle bus picks us up at airport and heads out to the North Shore towards Manly. We are staying in Queenscliffe-Freshwater area in lovely accomodation - a Balinese-type home with swimming pool which owners Adele and Darren have built behind their home.
This looks just the ticket for our week - taking in Christmas Day and Boxing Day - in Manly and Sydney. Nice to find they have left some goodies in the fridge too - very thoughtful. We already know that we are going to love our time here.
Dec 21 - Get to know Adele and Darren and their two daughters Brae and Tate and their two twin pedigree dogs Bonny and Missy. Family and the two adorable and very friendly canines make us feel extremely welcome (the terriers become regular visitors to our temporary abode).
Take a 15-minute stroll to Manly Beach, walk the foreshore, watch the surfers strut their stuff on some big breakers and then head to the wharf to catch the ferry into Sydney.
It's a 25-minute journey - and, just like jumping on New York's Staten Island ferry offers you the finest view of Manhattan, so too this sea voyage into Circular Quay lets the harbour uncover her best secrets. Now we get close up to the Opera House on our left, with the gigantic bridge looming ahead of us. An added bonus is the weather - blue skies and wall to wall sunshine.
Take a walk to The Rocks area. The site of the city's first European settlement, it was once the haunt of drunken sailors, prostitutes and criminals - an area riddled with vice and disease. Today it's a different story. With many of its historical buildings preserved, it is thriving thanks to the tourist dollar. Pubs, cafes, shops and art galleries cater to the masses.
Decide to join a free three-hour guided walk around Sydney. Run by Justine, a student and native of the city - she works on a tips only basis - the tour proves so informative, arming us with great knowledge on what to do and see and how to get the best out of the city without spending a king's ransom.
Tired, but exhilarated, we head back to Manly for more staggering harbour views - it's dusk now - but in plenty of time to take a dip in the pool, catch a few cold ones and grab a Chinese takeaway.
Dec 22 - Spend most of the morning trying to sort out accommodation for New Year's Eve and New Year's Day. We are planning to see 2011 in on the banks of Sydney Harbour close to the bridge. Everywhere seems chocfull, but eventually we find a small place in Manly itself - just three minutes walk from the beach.
Happy that we have got somewhere to lay our hats for a three-night spell, we decide on another visit to the city - this time wandering through the Royal Botanical Gardens (lush), the Museum of Contemporary Art (hit & miss) and onto the concrete steps of the Opera House (hot).
Three little South Korean children stop John and ask him if he has time to be interviewed about sport. He is happy to oblige and their eyes light up when he talks to them about soccer and rugby - they know all about Ryan Giggs (South Koreans are football crazy), but not Ryan Jones.
Interview over, they thank John and bow to him. It's we who should be bowing to them - they made our day.
Dec 23 - Our apartment is in residential area and, just like home, everyone in the area is preparing for the big day. The Christmas decorations are out, the lights are twinkling at night, the office parties are in full swing - Santa's Grotto is alive and kicking Down Under.
Back in Sydney (we have been lured once again by its charms) we are toying with the idea of doing the Bridge Climb, which consists of putting on a headset, grey jumpsuit and attaching yourself to a chord and doing a three-hour climb to its very summit.
Two of our great friends back home - Charles and Liz - have been there, done that and got the T-shirt (well done both of you, it's a real achievement) and we debated long and hard about following, quite literally, in their footsteps. In the end we decided against it because the prices to 'conquer' the bridge had, in our book, shot up dramatically over the Christmas/New Year period - a bridge too far you could say.
Instead we took the cheap (in other words free) option, walking across it from one side to the other and back again, which again offered great city and harbour views - but it was hot work.
Christmas Eve - It's the big day tomorrow and we get an invite from Adele and Darren to join them at their home for breakfast. Knocked out by such a kind gesture and readily accept. Decide on Christmas Eve trip to mega-famous Bondi Beach (it's held a record-breaking 35,000 on its sands on Christmas Day before now) and already the backpackers clad only in swimmers, bikinis and Santa hats are pouring off the buses and heading towards the surf and sand.
Good luck kids, but it's not for us (we haven't packed our swimmers or Santa headgear. That's our excuse and we're sticking to it), so opt for walk along clifftop with magic views south across to Tamarama and Bronte beaches, among others. Quite a panorama.
On the way back stop to peer across at top surfers riding the Bondi rollers and down at the swimmers doing lengths at Bondi Icebergs club where ocean comes crashing into saltwater pool and bow-tied waiters serve up fresh seafood and wine to patrons.
Feeling a tad Bondied-out, we head for the altogether gentler experience of Watsons Bay - another fine clifftop walk gives us views across both North and South Heads - and a delicious fish and chips in the basket lunch at Doyles on the wharf before returning to the city by ferry (the Watsons Bay one this time).
Back in the city we decide to split up (only temporary folks, honest). Chris manages to book the day's final one-and-half-hour guided tour of the Opera House (culture), while John (in the interests of history) decides on his own (no guide necessary) tour of some of Sydney's oldest watering holes.
Chris loves viewing the interiors of the various auditoriums for opera, dance, concerts and theatres and gets opportunities for photos from some of the best balconies.
John loves the Australian Hotel, Lord Nelson Brewery Hotel and the Hero of Waterloo.
Everone happy - and thirsts for culture and history (okay drinking) whetted - and reunited, it's back to Freshwater for a meal in a cute little Thai restaurant before finally tumbling wearily into bed.
Christmas Day - What a way to start it. Absolutely spoilt rotten. We join Adele, Darren, Brae and Tate for a superb breakfast of delicious cooked ham, smoked salmon and scrambled egg, champagne, fresh fruit, toast and coffee.
We bid our goodbyes for the day - they are having family over for lunch and party later - and we, for the first time in our lives, are going to spend December 25th on the beach.
But first we phone home and speak to Hannah and Emma, Chris's mum, Pauline, and Emma's boyfriend, Jack, on Skype. They are on top form and just finishing off their Chinese meal - a Christmas Eve tradition for our family in Swansea.
We then load up the Esky (cool box) - Adele and Darren have loaned it to us - with smoked salmon, tiger prawns, champers and other goodies that we bought at the local farmers' market the previous day. Swimmers, towels, sun umbrellas and chairs too (again thanks to kindness of our hosts) and picnic in tow it's off to Freshwater Beach. It's 11.15am and 30C. There are plenty of like-minded families already camped on the sands, and the surf is up.
Spend gorgeous summer's day (bizarre to write that) just chilling out, taking a couple of dips, watching the surfers do their thing before tucking into our Christmas Day picnic. Yum, yum.
Think about the girls and what they will be doing soon (we are 12 hours ahead) - a little bit of hiraeth creeping in now - before heading back to apartment.
Adele and Darren's party still in full swing and they invite us to join them for drinks on their patio, which we do.
Just before turning in for the night we Skype the family again at the home of Chris's sister (Joy) and brother-in-law Alan. Able to see Beth and Jon's new bundle of joy, Leah, and big sister Ella, who was clearly enjoying opening the presents that Santa had brought.
We too were happy with what Santa had brought us - a day to remember on the other side of the world, despite missing being with all the family.
Boxing Day
A lie-in. Bliss. Not such a nice day - overcast and with a sprinkling of fine rain. But today is the start of the world-famous three-day Sydney to Hobart yacht race and, as it's on our doorstep, it's too good an opportunity to miss.
Darren drops us off near entrance to national park on North Shore. Walk the rest of way (perfect for blowing away the cobwebs) and pick our spot to see start of race.
We are not disappointed as hundreds and hundreds of boats of all sizes and description flood the harbour to see off the competitors taking part in one of the toughest races - the Bass Strait is notorious - on the ocean.
It starts from the Heads at 1pm and we have a top vantage point. After about an hour the yachts, with masts of all colours, are well out to sea and on the way to Tasmania.
The rain has stopped now and we'll head for Manly Beach this afternoon - and a quick dip (John's up for a bit of body-surfing). Tomorrow we'll be saying our farewells to Adele, Darren and family. We are heading off inland to the Blue Mountains for three nights before returning to Australia's top city for New Year's Eve and the promise of the most spectacular fireworks on Planet Earth.
Monday 3 January 2011
Ayers Rock
What have Ayers Rock - that magical and mystical slab in the middle of nowhere - and an iceberg got in common? Not much really, except that you can't see two-thirds of either.
Just like the Titanic's nemesis, it is believed you can see only The Rock's tip and that the remainder lies buried below the surface - in its case dusty red desert sand, not deep blue ocean.
But the one-third you do view - and we first catch sight of it as we cross by air from Cairns into Central Australia (the heart of this vast Continent) - marks it out as a truly unique phenomenon.
We have flown for two-and-a-half hours over sand and scrubland, with few settlements below and the occasional straight as an arrow dirt track road - criss-crossing seemingly once in a blue moon - that appears to run for mile upon mile to nowhere in particular.
Then, like some eerie ghost ship, The Rock - all 348metres of it - appears on the horizon. It is like a lonely, yet majestic, sentinel lording it over barren and flat terrain stretching all sides as far as the eye can see.
We have booked into the rather peculiarly named Lost Camel Hotel (receptionist suggests we place towels at foot of door to keep out unwanted intruders - ie: bugs) for three nights and are going to give The Rock our best shot - a la Grand Canyon - by seeing it when the sun rises and sets. Oh dear. The alarm bells (clock) are ringing again for John.
Having arrived late afternoon and with the threat of thunderstorms and rain, we quickly opt for one organised trip - Sounds of Silence, an evening which promises sunset views of The Rock and a buffet dinner in the desert with champers, canapes and wine under a starlit southern sky. It delivers the goods and we find ourselves paired with good company - Peter and Susan from Ballarat, near Melbourne, and their friends Malcolm and Leslie.
There is not too much silence - rather only sounds of chat and laughter as the vino flows and we get to know each other. A good night is had by all and again new friends have been made (there was a little hush and decorum, of course, when our hostess for the evening explained the workings of Australia's wonderful 'upside down' night sky).
Up at the crack of dawn the next day, we walk to a nearby lookout point to see the sun rise - and it's the same trek at dusk to watch it going down. Like the Grand Canyon, The Rock changes colour as the light shifts - from a nutty, muddy brown to a gorgeous burnt orange, then deep and rich hues of red and finally a charcoal grey.
However there is nothing quite like seeing it at close quarters - and the next day is a highlight. Having spent a relatively lazy day poolside in the shade (daytime temperatures peak at around 34C) we are picked up by coach at 4.45am and taken to a sunrise viewing area very close to AR.
It's cool now, with cloud cover, and we embark on a 10k walk around its base. It take us three hours, but is so rewarding. How different is looks - pitted surfaces, astonishing textures, caves, watering holes & shape-shifting patters. Swear you can picture faces in some sections (no we haven't had a drink, only water, honest, guv. Must be the heat).
There are few people about, so we can leisurely amble around this skulking mass - some areas are off limits because they have sacred and spiritual significance for the Aboriginal people who still own the land.
We return from our walk feeling rewarded and enriched by the experience, but shattered too. We muster one more sunset view (the best yet). We are leaving for Sydney next - and could catch one more sunrise if we decide to get up at 4am.
You're having a laugh. Ayers Rock may be one of the finest natural attractions on Planet Earth - and it is truly a stunning spectacle - but one does need one's beauty sleep.
After all - and we quote from Clint Eastwood's 'Dirty Harry' Callahan here - a man's gotta know his limitations. Man and woman here agree they have theirs, so we'll skip this one if you don't mind and leave this unusual and haunting place with a suitcase full of memories and photographs to match.
Just like the Titanic's nemesis, it is believed you can see only The Rock's tip and that the remainder lies buried below the surface - in its case dusty red desert sand, not deep blue ocean.
But the one-third you do view - and we first catch sight of it as we cross by air from Cairns into Central Australia (the heart of this vast Continent) - marks it out as a truly unique phenomenon.
We have flown for two-and-a-half hours over sand and scrubland, with few settlements below and the occasional straight as an arrow dirt track road - criss-crossing seemingly once in a blue moon - that appears to run for mile upon mile to nowhere in particular.
Then, like some eerie ghost ship, The Rock - all 348metres of it - appears on the horizon. It is like a lonely, yet majestic, sentinel lording it over barren and flat terrain stretching all sides as far as the eye can see.
We have booked into the rather peculiarly named Lost Camel Hotel (receptionist suggests we place towels at foot of door to keep out unwanted intruders - ie: bugs) for three nights and are going to give The Rock our best shot - a la Grand Canyon - by seeing it when the sun rises and sets. Oh dear. The alarm bells (clock) are ringing again for John.
Having arrived late afternoon and with the threat of thunderstorms and rain, we quickly opt for one organised trip - Sounds of Silence, an evening which promises sunset views of The Rock and a buffet dinner in the desert with champers, canapes and wine under a starlit southern sky. It delivers the goods and we find ourselves paired with good company - Peter and Susan from Ballarat, near Melbourne, and their friends Malcolm and Leslie.
There is not too much silence - rather only sounds of chat and laughter as the vino flows and we get to know each other. A good night is had by all and again new friends have been made (there was a little hush and decorum, of course, when our hostess for the evening explained the workings of Australia's wonderful 'upside down' night sky).
Up at the crack of dawn the next day, we walk to a nearby lookout point to see the sun rise - and it's the same trek at dusk to watch it going down. Like the Grand Canyon, The Rock changes colour as the light shifts - from a nutty, muddy brown to a gorgeous burnt orange, then deep and rich hues of red and finally a charcoal grey.
However there is nothing quite like seeing it at close quarters - and the next day is a highlight. Having spent a relatively lazy day poolside in the shade (daytime temperatures peak at around 34C) we are picked up by coach at 4.45am and taken to a sunrise viewing area very close to AR.
It's cool now, with cloud cover, and we embark on a 10k walk around its base. It take us three hours, but is so rewarding. How different is looks - pitted surfaces, astonishing textures, caves, watering holes & shape-shifting patters. Swear you can picture faces in some sections (no we haven't had a drink, only water, honest, guv. Must be the heat).
There are few people about, so we can leisurely amble around this skulking mass - some areas are off limits because they have sacred and spiritual significance for the Aboriginal people who still own the land.
We return from our walk feeling rewarded and enriched by the experience, but shattered too. We muster one more sunset view (the best yet). We are leaving for Sydney next - and could catch one more sunrise if we decide to get up at 4am.
You're having a laugh. Ayers Rock may be one of the finest natural attractions on Planet Earth - and it is truly a stunning spectacle - but one does need one's beauty sleep.
After all - and we quote from Clint Eastwood's 'Dirty Harry' Callahan here - a man's gotta know his limitations. Man and woman here agree they have theirs, so we'll skip this one if you don't mind and leave this unusual and haunting place with a suitcase full of memories and photographs to match.
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