Shortly after New Year's Eve – as shortly afterwards as our over-indulgence would allow, in fact – we headed over to Tasmania for what we expect to be a month. Nearly one-week in, my head is swimming with new experiences vastly different from those I had experienced anywhere else in Australia – but this is hardly surprising as not only is every state or territory in Australia very different from the next, Tasmania is a Southerly-island with unique wildlife and climate – making it not only the most southerly rainforest on the planet, but also the only known extant natural habitat for a huge range of strange animals such as the Tasmanian devils and the platypus.
Our first evening in the State started with a very bizarre set of circumstances! Wandering onto a caravan park in Ulverstone and finding no one in the office, I headed round the back to find what I later discovered was the park owner dressed as a clown, indulging in competitive wood-chopping to the backdrop of a country and western band playing out the back of an articulated lorry in the middle of the field. Upon seeing the clown, I foolishly made reference to my recent hobby of balloon-modelling and before you can say 'make me another sword; I broke the last one on Timmy's face' I had been attacked by 150 eager (and in many cases bloodthirsty) children with requests for every balloon model imaginable, from the ever-popular poodle to the slightly more strange teenage-mutant-hero-turtle. So it was several hours later (having made far more balloons in a day than ever before) that I collapsed exhausted into a chair by the van and sank my first beer to the continuing tones of the rock 'n' roll truck band. Bleary-eyed and out of breath, I wandered to the beach in search of escape from the ever-marauding children, and staggered up to a group of people around a fire at the water's edge. A few beers later, we were in a car, heading for god-only-knows, and a club that promising a night of 'doof' (the sound of the bass that travels through the town – doof – doof – doof). On the journey from the car park to the club we saw at least three groups of drunk kids starting fights, and I was then refused entry to the club for being in a vest-top, so it was with much complaint and traditional English whining that we turned tail and went back to the more more pleasant environment of our beach fire. The night would have ended on a disappointing note had we not discovered penguins were nesting next to our tent, having come home from an evening of fishing in the sea, and making the most disconcerting warbling and blood-curdling screeching noises as they waddled around their nightly business. They were fascinating to watch and listen to!
Perhaps for that reason, the next day we went to the intriguingly named own of Penguin, to visit a decent sized market full of local produce; from fruit and veg, to wine, clothes and so many gourmet sauces it was nearly impossible to decide which ones to taste and buy! After picking up enough ingredients to prepare a curry for a small army, and having a picnic lunch underneath a giant concrete fairy penguin, we headed to Latrobe in search of another of Tasmania's native curios: the platypus. The guy that took us up the river showed us how to spot the tell-tale signs that they were hunting under he water, and to watch for where they would likely pop up to feed, and when they were being elusive he had many other things to tell us about the native wildlife.
The following day was a lazy one for all of us. Travelling can be really tiring sometimes! I spent the day walking the beaches and collecting rocks and shells. The range of sea-life washed ashore was amazing, and it's no wonder so many of the nearby penguins looked a bit on the chubby side! The day after we all trooped down to a wildlife park in nearby Trowunna to get our first looks at the Tazzy devils. Incredible creatures, despised by some and loved by many as one of the state's most recognised symbols. They have such strong jaws and digestive tracts that they eat whatever animal they set upon completely; right down to the bones and fur. Two or more of them would wrestle over a wallaby leg in not only an establishment of social hierarchy but also as a practical necessity in order to tear the meat into several smaller and more manageable pieces. There were many more marsupials in the park, too numerous to name and describe, but once again the loveable kangaroos were all around us like the pigeons of Trafalgar – waiting to be noticed, fed, and petted.
There really is so much to do and see on this little island – about the size of England but with only half a million inhabitants. Every drive is an uneventful and peaceful one, every café or restaurant is sure to be able to fit you in somewhere, and even in the major cities rush hour only lasts 10 minutes! We have spent several days wandering around mazes, looking for tea rooms, camping beside lakes and rivers. I even tried my hand at fishing, but have not yet had any luck – despite choosing the largest and most appetising grasshoppers to bait my hook with. We have swum in lakes in the morning, trekked through caves in the afternoon hunting glow worms and evil looking cave-dwelling crickets and spiders and been on whole afternoons of culinary exploration in honey farms (I must have tried 50 different sorts before settling on a red chilli honey, a strawberry honey cream, and ice creams made with leatherwood honey and boysenberry) and salmon farms, and every kind of berry farm you can imagine!
Even the thought of it is making me hungry again, so I must go and see about cooking up something delicious!
Friday, January 11, 2008
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Christmas and New Years Eve in Australia
Our adventures over West finished, our plans were to return to the Blue Mountains for Christmas. We were a little earlier than we had intended to be, but were looking forward to seeing the Flying Fox again and getting back into our tent overlooking the beautiful valley below. We had a prime position when we got there – right on the cliff edge; and were only a little nervous once or twice when thunder storms came rolling over the mountains, or when it was pointed out that the cliff was eroding at a speed of around 15 feet a year!
Settled in, we started looking forward to the beginning of the festive season. It could very easily have passed us by, though – as it was so understated. No tacky decorations in windows, or lights in the streets. People are jolly already when it's the height for summer so there isn't the same need to cheer people up as there is back home where Christmas is celebrated in the middle of winter. But with a few cards arriving in the post from people back home, and a calling in the back of my mind reminding me of the need to go out and get a Christmas stocking, Christmas was celebrated in the usual drunken and bloated fashion.
Our first night out was back down to the Jenolan Caves, where previously I had enjoyed long afternoons wandering among the crystals and underwater streams. I started the day with a walk through one of the largest open caves I had ever been in, romantically named the Devil's Coach-house, in which I was able to find some formations only found in three other caves worldwide and a few small fossils in the limestone walls. After this, we trooped into a cave called the Lucas Caves (named after a politician that had done much work to ensure the preservation of these 450 million year old national treasures) and up to a 54m high cavern known as the Cathedral. It was in here that we had an evening of Hungarian gypsy music performed by two East-European musicians (a guitarist and violinist) to the dramatic lighting of crystal walls and stalactites and the eerie accompaniment of a dozen bats which flew around our heads throughout the performance. The evening ended in a very festive session of over-indulgence of cheese and wine and much chatting with the musicians.
A couple of days later, Christmas Eve was upon us. This is an important day for many of the people at the hostel – the Germans, French, and Danish, for example – as this would be the main day of celebration back home. Two of the French guys, Nic and Alex, organised a massive spread of salads, pastas, and cold meats to which 30 people sat down and gorged. Many a drink was spilt and mince pie dropped on the floor before the festivities were over!
Christmas Day, on the other hand, was a considerably more relaxed affair. Morning started with the traditional opening of presents (in the tent, of course) before the making and serving of canopies in the hostel began. Smoked salmon, cream cheese, pates, and exotic fruit were the main things on the agenda – but again, the mince pies stole the day (I now have a new personal record for consumption throughout the day). Unlike the previous day however, when it had been warm well into the night, Christmas Day was dull, dreary, and cold – so it was with nostalgic but familiar resignation that the day was filled with board games, log fires, and warm brandies.
The lull between Christmas and New Year's Eve was filled with many more evenings of indulgence. As most people at the Fox were there throughout the period, it was starting to feel like a close family, so t was reluctantly that we said goodbye to our friends and went for a couple of days excursion down the coast. Myself and Sian enjoyed a couple of lovely sunsets and sunrises on picturesque beaches, early morning swims, and late afternoon pub-lunches in places with beautiful names like 'Fairy Meadows'.
We returned to Sydney for New Year's Eve – one of the biggest parties in the World, and one of the first areas the New Year is welcomed in. We met up with friends from Katoomba and went in search of fun and festivities in the town. Our initial attempt to get into the Botanical Gardens was scuppered at the last minute when they declared the place full-to-capacity; but it wasn't long before we found a bar in which to collect our thoughts and plan a new strategy. When the New Year arrived we were stood on Piermont Bridge where we had views of several of the barges in the water, much of Harbour Bridge, and most of the buildings throughout town where more fireworks were to be launched. When they started erupting, they were all around us. It was impossible to know where to look! Everyone shouting 'look over there!' and pointing in every direction imaginable. And the vibe of the whole city afterwards was fantastic. Everyone in the whole city seemed intent on congratulating everyone on being alive at the start of a new year for at least the next 36 hours. And although everyone had warned us of the crowds, it wasn't uncommon to be 40 feet behind the person walking in front as we strolled through the festival!
New Years Day was a scorcher! Starting the day earlier than ever before, we headed for the swimming pool where we cured hangovers with ice creams, sangria, and swims until we were regrettably sunburnt, but deeply satisfied.
Settled in, we started looking forward to the beginning of the festive season. It could very easily have passed us by, though – as it was so understated. No tacky decorations in windows, or lights in the streets. People are jolly already when it's the height for summer so there isn't the same need to cheer people up as there is back home where Christmas is celebrated in the middle of winter. But with a few cards arriving in the post from people back home, and a calling in the back of my mind reminding me of the need to go out and get a Christmas stocking, Christmas was celebrated in the usual drunken and bloated fashion.
Our first night out was back down to the Jenolan Caves, where previously I had enjoyed long afternoons wandering among the crystals and underwater streams. I started the day with a walk through one of the largest open caves I had ever been in, romantically named the Devil's Coach-house, in which I was able to find some formations only found in three other caves worldwide and a few small fossils in the limestone walls. After this, we trooped into a cave called the Lucas Caves (named after a politician that had done much work to ensure the preservation of these 450 million year old national treasures) and up to a 54m high cavern known as the Cathedral. It was in here that we had an evening of Hungarian gypsy music performed by two East-European musicians (a guitarist and violinist) to the dramatic lighting of crystal walls and stalactites and the eerie accompaniment of a dozen bats which flew around our heads throughout the performance. The evening ended in a very festive session of over-indulgence of cheese and wine and much chatting with the musicians.
A couple of days later, Christmas Eve was upon us. This is an important day for many of the people at the hostel – the Germans, French, and Danish, for example – as this would be the main day of celebration back home. Two of the French guys, Nic and Alex, organised a massive spread of salads, pastas, and cold meats to which 30 people sat down and gorged. Many a drink was spilt and mince pie dropped on the floor before the festivities were over!
Christmas Day, on the other hand, was a considerably more relaxed affair. Morning started with the traditional opening of presents (in the tent, of course) before the making and serving of canopies in the hostel began. Smoked salmon, cream cheese, pates, and exotic fruit were the main things on the agenda – but again, the mince pies stole the day (I now have a new personal record for consumption throughout the day). Unlike the previous day however, when it had been warm well into the night, Christmas Day was dull, dreary, and cold – so it was with nostalgic but familiar resignation that the day was filled with board games, log fires, and warm brandies.
The lull between Christmas and New Year's Eve was filled with many more evenings of indulgence. As most people at the Fox were there throughout the period, it was starting to feel like a close family, so t was reluctantly that we said goodbye to our friends and went for a couple of days excursion down the coast. Myself and Sian enjoyed a couple of lovely sunsets and sunrises on picturesque beaches, early morning swims, and late afternoon pub-lunches in places with beautiful names like 'Fairy Meadows'.
We returned to Sydney for New Year's Eve – one of the biggest parties in the World, and one of the first areas the New Year is welcomed in. We met up with friends from Katoomba and went in search of fun and festivities in the town. Our initial attempt to get into the Botanical Gardens was scuppered at the last minute when they declared the place full-to-capacity; but it wasn't long before we found a bar in which to collect our thoughts and plan a new strategy. When the New Year arrived we were stood on Piermont Bridge where we had views of several of the barges in the water, much of Harbour Bridge, and most of the buildings throughout town where more fireworks were to be launched. When they started erupting, they were all around us. It was impossible to know where to look! Everyone shouting 'look over there!' and pointing in every direction imaginable. And the vibe of the whole city afterwards was fantastic. Everyone in the whole city seemed intent on congratulating everyone on being alive at the start of a new year for at least the next 36 hours. And although everyone had warned us of the crowds, it wasn't uncommon to be 40 feet behind the person walking in front as we strolled through the festival!
New Years Day was a scorcher! Starting the day earlier than ever before, we headed for the swimming pool where we cured hangovers with ice creams, sangria, and swims until we were regrettably sunburnt, but deeply satisfied.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)