Too long in Albany

As I write this, I see the end in sight!

Imagine that you're presented with a huge Christmas dinner with all the trimmings: turkey, stuffing, little sausages wrapped in bacon, roast potatoes, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, and buckets of veg – and then you're told you're only allowed to eat the sprouts. Albany is like the sprouts. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with the little green chaps, in fact, I really quite like them! But if you were stuck with just them when you knew what else was on offer, you'd understand what it is like to be in Albany for four weeks.

Albany has a population of around 35,000; is the site of the first English settlement in Western Australia in the 1830's; and was largely established as a whaling colony before turning itself over to tourism. And after doing very little here other than look for work, do the work, and resent the work; I was finally able to get out and see some of the real reasons people might visit this little 'city'.

After leaving the immediate vicinity of the high street and travelling just a few hundred meters in any direction, you are met with kilometre after kilometre of sprawling countryside. Albany itself seems to 'occupy' 40 or 50 km of coastline, which must make it one of the least dense cities I have come across so far. In some places, you can travel close to a kilometre before seeing a building! And during that time you might have to find ways of coping with the scenery: acres of brush; herds of cattle, deer, or kangaroo; picturesque mountains; and oceans and lakes peppered with black swan, ibis, and pelicans. And occasionally a sign pointing to a nearby tourist spot or winery.

Today we went to three of the key attractions of Albany: The Natural Bridge, The Gap, and The Blow Holes.

The first is a bridge. A naturally occurring bridge. Limestone blocks hang above the water, supported by the force of their own weight and sheer determination! The structure looked incredibly sturdy – and is easily big enough for several people to walk across abreast – but we chose a very stormy day to come down there, and I wasn't about to risk falling into the churning swells below.

The Gap was the primary attraction at this place, though. And we'd picked a perfect day to visit it! Erosion has torn a gash in the limestone cliffs that tower over the southerly waters of Albany, and has left a wide inlet, 30 meters high and 10 across, into which the waves can thunder. And on a stormy day the waters crash with such force they hurl themselves up the cliff side and shower into the air. The surrounding area was incredibly wet from the force of these waves, even though they had to expend much of their energy scaling the sheer faces of the cliff. Some of the jets of water were 10 meters over our heads, and there was a permanent rainbow hanging in the mists they left behind.

The last place we visited is a geological phenomenon I had not seen before – a blow hole! A similar principal to the Gap had created huge caves and caverns underneath the cliff at a point a little East of the Natural Bridge; but rather than the waves crashing up the cliff face, they found a way through the weaknesses in the rock and gush up through small holes at the surface, in a thunderous whooshing like a whale clearing it's own blow hole. I suppose that explains the name!

And having seen those three sites, and a couple more (such as walking through the tops of the 60m trees at the Valley of the Giants... check out the pictures!) it's time to be off. We now have an Australian driver's license and the rest of Western Australia is calling!

People in Australia

I think that as a tourist, you are treated a little differently wherever you travel. People who visit London often say how friendly and approachable the people there are; whereas the majority of people that have to suffer the place on a daily basis will swear that everyone they encounter are uniformly aggressive and self-absorbed. The fact that you are a stranger in someone else's country seems to open doors, and plays on some people's deep-down desires to help a fellow human being, spend time with someone from a different culture, and brighten someone's day just because you can.

This has been my experience of travelling, anyway. As a Briton in Scandinavia, a Western European in the Czech Republic, a European in Hong Kong, and even as an Englishman in Scotland! Most locals see short-comings in their fellow countrymen that just aren't visible to the passing tourist.

And so it was without surprise that I found the Australian people to be charming, helpful, friendly, and cheerful. But I wasn't prepared for just how approachable most of them can be. It took only a few days before we had noticed that there was a new degree to the kindness of strangers. Someone overhearing a question would come up and introduce themselves; help solve the problem – or grab other passers by on our behalf to help out; and then stick around for a friendly fifteen-minute chat! Others would remark as we walked past that they liked the hat one of us was wearing, or a tattoo we had, or a tree we were looking at – and that would be the opener to thirty-minutes of stories, advice, jokes, and directions. It's amazing the conversations that could be going unsaid because of an irrational fear of saying 'hello' to a stranger.

Another example of a totally unprecedented level of kindness would be a bus driver we encountered when travelling through the Blue Mountains. A few of us had intended on taking a walk through a nearby canyon when we had car troubles and were forced to use public transport. Without a clear idea of where the bus route was going to take us, we tentatively boarded the first bus that came along and asked if they went near The Grand Canyon. After a few minutes of general chat, the bus driver had established we were travellers and exactly which hike it was that we intended to try. He gave us all concession rates as there were a few of us (???), a timetable for the return bus, and then continued his drive. He got to the road we needed, indicated to us which way his next bus stop is (for the return trip) and then promptly went the other way – a mile in the wrong direction, just to drop us nearer our destination! Seeing him returning to his route; doing a three-point-turn on a dirt-track with a full-size bus packed with other customers, waving goodbye to us as he did so, was hardly a sight I could imagine if the bus and driver had been from Brixton or Southend!

Most of the people we meet in the backpackers' hostels are not Australians. Some are almost full with Korean and Japanese tourists; others are dominated by Germans; and some are a refreshing mix of many nationalities. Most of the time there is a feeling of kinship that comes with shared experience. Many horror stories sound all to familiar, but lots are encouraging as well. The fact of the mater is that nearly all travellers are friendly, and nearly all Australians are too. So when you're lucky enough to come across an Australian Traveller, you know you're in for a good time.

Two weeks in the Blue Mountains

After a little less than a week in Sydney we headed for the hills in our newly acquired van. Katoomba is the main town of the Blue Mountains and whilst the houses sprawl out for quite a distance, the town centre consists of one street which is home to a few dozen pubs, cafés, and restaurants and a handful of little boutiques selling antiques, bric-a-brac and books. The town is now entirely reliant on tourism, and so every shop-front boasts their most enticing wares gratuitously and the few tour groups which conduct daily excursions to the surrounding areas shamelessly promote themselves with large posters on all available surfaces in the town.

It was a shock after leaving the energy of Sydney to find a completely laid back way of life in the Mountains. Several of the pubs don't open at all Monday – Thursday and those that do are generally quiet even with the abundance of tourists as they are mostly getting early nights ready for the tiring days that lay ahead of them. Because that is the real attraction of the local mountainsides – exhausting yourself on walks through the valleys; climbs through the gorges; and abseils down vertical cliff-faces.

The mountains have created a truly beautiful environment of green rainforests and valleys, orange deserts and rock outcrops, and colourful bursts of flowers wherever the water springs from the ground. They are home to a plethora of bush wildlife so varied that every morning I woke to the sound of a different animal that I had never heard before. The way of life that you can so easily slip into is a peaceful and sedentary one consisting of waking casually to a view down the side of a mountain; an afternoon of walks and taking in the spectacular views; an evening of conversation and wine-drinking around a camp fire; and a long peaceful sleep out with the wildlife, separated from the elements by only a thin sheet of canvass.

When feeling energetic though, a whole day can easily be filled by rigorous adventures in the numerous local hills. One such day, a 7 O'clock start meant that we were able to spend a morning abseiling down the cliffs around Mt. York before tackling the canyon of Wentworth – a 2km gorge consisting of treacherous plunge-pools to dive into and rocky outcrops to climb over, ending in a 30m abseil down the very wet and slippery Wentworth Falls. Terrifying. Exhilarating. Exhausting.

Luckily, we were camping out the back of an excellent hostel, The Flying Fox, where it is commonplace to retire after an energetic day with a bottle of wine and sit by the campfire out the back talking to Ross, the owner, and watch the sun set – or curl up inside by the fire and watch the flames dance.

Another day took us into the area of Jenolan and the largest collection of open caverns in the known world. There are over 300 caves here, several of which have openings into the cliff sides which gave us the opportunity to explore! The first cave we went into was called the Orient – slightly imaginatively named because of the vague resemblance to far-eastern locations that some of the rock formations took on. The caves were filed with the most amazing calcite formations I had ever seen – and I had been told that there are no finer specimens in all the world. The different crystals were in the traditional stalactites and stalagmites that most people are aware of; but also helactite formations, ribbons of crystal creating sweeping 'shawls' across the cave roofs and walls; 'cave mysteries' which are strange angular growths jutting in random directions from any surface and have no proven explanation for their existence... and more formations besides these. The cave took over an hour to explore and left me with a great thirst for more!

The second cave I went into was called the Imperial Diamond Cave. The Imperial cave is the grandest of all the Jenolan caves. Massive in size, with many different aspects. An underground river still flows in its depths with water so deceptively clear that although it looks only 1 foot deep is actually over 6 feet from surface to river bed. There was a strong but thankfully controllable desire to test this information and prove to my eyes that what they reported was a lie! We came across a shaft above us, and were informed that after a 10m abseil, there is just over 100m of vertical pothole that can be clambered down. I will be returning to this cave to do just that, very soon!
I will also be returning to see a recital of some of Paganini's work in one of the caves just before Christmas, performed on guitar and violin by some Romany gypsies. I don't know what the acoustics in a mighty limestone cave will do to the already schizophrenic-sounding melodies of Paganini, but I'm prepared to pay to find out!

The Blue Mountains have a lot to offer, both aesthetically and spiritually. The place is so peaceful yet entertaining that I know I'll return there several times before I have to leave Australia. Once at Christmas, as I mentioned, and maybe again before that when we're next in New South Wales. Just to say 'Hi' to Ross, and chill by the campfire outside the Fox with a bottle of good wine.

The best made plans of mice and men oft go awry

Even before I embarked on this trip, the phrase came again and again into my mind: 'Even the best made plans of mice and men oft go awry'. I can't remember who plagiarised who – but the phrase has been quoted, revised and quoted again many times over the last century. And as is often the case with such things, it has been reused so often with good reason. There's a lot of sense in that simple sentence.

Everyone I spoke to that had been on extended travels had warned me not to make plans, as they will always change. You cannot guess what places you will like and want to stay in for longer; or what places will disappoint. But even so – when people asked how I was intending to see Australia I would still give them a month-by-month breakdown of the next 12 months... and then add: “though that might change a little”

How much of an understatement was that!?

Rather than spend the first three months of our trip in New South Wales travelling the Gold Coast we have instead gone in the opposite direction, crossing three state-boundaries in as many days. We've hopped from state capital to state capital going from Sydney in New South Wales to Melbourne in Victoria to Perth in Western Australia.

The reasons for the drastic change in direction are many, but suffice it to say that they have certainly taught me not to make or rely on any plans beyond the end of the current week! We have generally made our travel arrangements one day in advance (or less) and travelling like this, every day subject to whim, is a lot more fulfilling and exciting than thinking ahead and looking at a 'big picture'

So next time someone gives me some advice like: 'don't make plans'; 'travel light'; or 'trust the hippies' I'm actually going to listen to them and assume there is a reason they think they know best.

Hostels

One thing I have quickly learnt here in Australia is not to have any expectations. If you have high hopes then they could be dashed by the smallest disappointment; and if you don't expect anything special then there's always room to be pleasantly surprised. Hostels are no exception to this rule, and this has already been proved time and time again.

You come to find certain sounds, sights, and smells unfortunately very familiar. The sound of someone coming into the dorm at 4am; the sound of someone else getting up and leaving the dorm 5am; the smell of a fridge with long abandoned food hidden in its depths; the site of long abandoned cups/clothes/linen gathering dust and new lifeforms from its hidden den – and of course combinations of all three senses: The sound/sight/ smell of someone bending over next to your bed and letting one off in your direction when you're still too asleep to recoil or retaliate. Yes – that actually happened (and I'll get the b-----d back if I get a chance.)

Staying in a dorm is not for me. For a few extra bucks I can get a room on my own – and as it's only ever somewhere to sleep, I don't feel like I'm missing out on any community spirit that might be happening elsewhere in the hostel. And if it means I don't need to listen to eight other guys snoring and farting all night I think it's money very well spent.

And when you come across a true 'gem' of a place you understand how apt that phrase can be. Shining through the mud and detritus of most other hostels you sometimes come across a gleaming retreat with a personal touch that makes all the difference. Somewhere, which straight away makes you feel at home; with people that you come to consider family; and an atmosphere which is contagious (in an altogether different way to other places) and comfortable. And when such a place is found, a value cannot be put upon staying there.

I've learnt that the sort of places worth staying in are small personally-run hostels and lodges where the manager and owner is on the premises most of the time. If that is the case, then hopefully they won't be prepared to live in squalor – and that will mean you won't have to either. In a smaller place, everyone can get to know each other pretty easily and the staff will know you as well. Small personal touches can make all the difference when all the normally-familiar faces are thousands of miles away.

Without a shadow of doubt, my favourite place I've stayed in is just such a place: The Flying Fox in Katoomba, The Blue Mountains, NSW. The setting helps tremendously – waking up in the morning and being able to look down in to the valleys of misty-blue eucalyptus, exotic birds and animals, and glowing sunshine. But everything about the hostel itself is just as pleasant – from the log fires at night; hours of conversation and drinking of wine with the owner every evening; the sense of community everyone who stays there experiences. (And of course it is very clean, well-priced, and comfortable.) I'll be spending Christmas there later this year... it helps to book somewhere early... and I know there will be a fantastic celebration with much food, booze, and probably the odd present or two changing hands. So if I don't call anyone this year – you now know why. I'll be having way too much fun to remember!

Animals in Oz

Today I saw my first hopping marsupial. And my second not too long after that! On the way down to the Jenolan Caves (where the most amazing calcite crystals can be seen) I saw a small, dark-furred, fluffy walabe hopping from the roadside up a little bank, before turning to stare at us as we drove past - not more than six feet away from us. And after spending the afternoon in the caves, I saw two large kangaroos in a field - apparently looking at something in the distance (I like to think they were admiring the sunset).

So now I really feel like I'm in Australia!

There's been a lot of interesting wildlife to see since we arrived. Some of it has been in the trees, some of it has been in the fields, and the best of all has been in freezer-compartments in the fish markets!

I went to Sydney Fish Market for a day last week, and there was plenty which appealed to me! As I walked through the main building's entrance, I grabbed a bunch of octopus on a skewer and went searching for some more tasties! After half an hour of walking between the vendors I had a pretty good idea of where the best bits were. I started with a half-dozen Sydney Rock Oysters. Little things with a beautiful flavor! I went on to try the Pacific Oysters - which were much bigger, stronger-tasting, but not actually as nice. The lobsters, king-prawns, and salmon and tuna sashimi I won't even begin to describe. Just the thought of them is making me dribble down my T-shirt all over again!

Other than the edible life here, there's plenty to catch the eye. Crimson Rosellas are pretty common up in the Blue Mountains, so we've seen a lot of them. And paraquettes, cockatoos... I even saw a lyre bird this afternoon... a lot like a peacock. Maybe even tastier!

Last week I saw my first marsupial - a collection of tiny possums up a tree waiting for their parents to bring them dinner! ANd not long after that, I saw another possum - with baby in the pouch - sitting out in the open in the Sydney Botanical Gardens. The pictures I got were amazing (available in my Sydney album: http://s238.photobucket.com/albums/ff134/rickginer/ then click the Sydney sub-album)

I've seen a few different lizards. A handful of different types - but mainly a large tree-gecko in the Botanical Gardens, a huge water dragon in the Blue Mountains - and a few fresh water skinks as well (little and very quick buggers) skitting across the path.

In the way of spiders, I have seen a funnel-web - one of the deadliest spiders ion the world. And a few huntsmen whcih will not do you any good either! Checking under toilet seats, behind cushions, and in shoes has become a sort of ritual that has been surprisingly easy to get into. Not surprising when you think of the consequences for not paying attention!

The list of unusual and amusing animals that have entertained me in the day and annoyed me throughout the night goes on and on! I could write for hours about the cigadas, flying foxes, ibis, crows, magpies (none of which are the same as I have been used to)...... but with the smells of dinner wafting from the kitchen, I can think of little else but what's next going in my stomach (which itself reminds me of a few more tasty animals I saw) but look at the pictures online - and if there's anything you want to know about send me a mail!

Much love,

R

An afternoon with Clarence

Clarence is an aborignal tribesman born close to the Clarence River in Northern Australia. His totum is the Salamander which means he shares the same blood as it, it is like his brother, and to allow one to come to harm would make him physically ill. He is also the head of Aboriginal Studies at the Botanical Gardens in Sydeny. But beyod all that - he was our guide for one afternoon last week as we walked around the artificial 'bush' that is the Gardens.

The walk was scheduled to be a little over an hour, and should have cost $10. In reality, it lasted over 3 hours - cost nothing - and included some extra-curicular studies in the pub on the way home.

We learnt a great deal about the land, the people, and the spirituality that is so important to the aboriginals, and I don't intend to recount much of that here - but I will say that we had an amazing time, and came away buzzing with excitement at the thought of trying to live off Bush Tucker!

The aboriginals sem to find a use for nearly everything that grows or lives within their domain. Bark on trees which peels off in neat sheets can be used for bandages, to wrap and cook food in, to write on, or to make soft padding... fruits which can't be eaten can be ground down to make oil - or burned with a wick to make a candel. But most importantly - I learnt what is good for a headache, stomach upsets, keeping the flies away, and recovering from a hangover.

The bush awaits.... we're off into the Blue Mountains now for a few weeks of roughing-it, and camping in the wilderness. If I survive the first few nights of experimentation with the local flora and fauna expect a new blog soon!