The Wombat's Cradle

Day 11: Carlos was our new driver with a unique taste in music which led to most people towards the end of the trip listening to their own MP3s! He took us from Launceston to Devonport to pick up a few more people, including Kurt, a scary looking, 60-a-day old boozer from Switzerland! An interesting character to say the least.

We stopped in Sheffield, the self styled “Town of Murals”. Not a huge reason to go there, and of more interest was getting some grub at the supermarket as we would be in little lodges in the middle of nowhere come evening. It was a bit more dreary today, with the mountain tops shrouded in cloud cover. However, after checking into our huts (where I was sharing with Kurt!) we drove the short distance into Cradle Mountain-Lake St Clair National Park, part of the 20% of Tasmania that is world heritage listed, and the clouds began to part. Down by Dove Lake, the jagged peaks of Cradle Mountain appeared, offering a fine setting to eat some lunch.

A few of us walked around Dove Lake, an easy relaxing two hour walk, taking in the view of the mountain around the shores of the lake. As that only took a short time, we then headed across to the smaller Lake Lilla, which was calm and still and offered a beautiful reflection of the mountains.

The path then climbed so that you could see across both lakes towards the ever-present Cradle Mountain, which is much like the Matterhorn in that it demands being photographed over and over again!

It was turning into a splendid walk, taking in two more lakes – Wombat Pool and Crater Lake before finally descending into a lush rainforest gully complete with ferns and the cascade of Crater Falls.

Finally, we emerged out of the forest and into empty plains of buttongrass moorland, with the odd tree scattered here and there. We were now on part of the Overland track, one of the great walks of the world from Cradle Mountain to Lake St Clair which takes about 5 to 8 days.

It had been a fabulously varied walk in near perfect conditions. The icing on the cake was coming across Mummy and Daddy wombat along with little baby wombat as we neared the end of the walk.

It was with immense satisfaction that we caught the shuttle bus back to our lodges and made a delicious pasta dinner, perhaps with a little too much cheese, but yum nonetheless!

Western waters

Day 12: We bade farewell to Cradle Mountain and headed off towards Strahan, stopping first at Montezuma Falls. It was quite a long, muddy walk through rainforest to the falls, very pleasant, but compared to the variety of yesterday’s walk a bit boring! Still, you shouldn’t complain anytime you are lucky enough to be out in pristine rainforest when you could be at work!

The falls were tall and thin, though not gushing strongly as it is towards the end of summer. There was a little suspension bridge here, which was quite an interesting experience, only taking the weight of two people and having plenty of holes in the floor so you could see many metres below as you rocked in the wind. Despite all the fish and chips, it managed to bear my weight!

We ate lunch in a bit of a bleak mining village before hitting the remote west coast and Henty sand dunes. Now these are big sand dunes and it was fun scrambling up them and messing about up the top. We were just escaping the rain which was brewing up over the mountains and managed to get some time up here before the soaking arrived.

Strahan was wet and wild and there was little to do but stock up in the supermarket and catch up with chores before making some dinner and playing a number of board and card games around our cabins. By this stage however, after seeing so many beautiful things and great weather it was not a problem at all that it was raining and the board games were a good blast from the past!

Day 13: Today the sun was out in the west but we were heading back east, eventually to Hobart. Our first stop was in the town of Queenstown, another mining town with the scars of industry. The town is somewhere in the low clouds which were carpeting the valleys as we set off early in the morning.

We then passed into Franklin-Gordon River National Park, home to some more waterfalls and the Franklin River, source of much of the bottled water in Australia.

Further east, we stopped at Lake St Clair, the end of the Overland track, looking peaceful and still as the cloud rolled in.

The road then wound its way past a series of dams and pipes, transferring water for hydro-electric power. The glamorous site for a picnic lunch was beside one of these power stations.

Here I am at the power station. There is a story behind the star jump…yesterday on the sand dunes a couple of the Japanese girls were trying to get photos of themselves mid-air. The pictures which eventually turned out looked quite good. I wondered if the same would happen here at the power station but I’m not sure I added anything to the already stunning natural beauty of the scene.

Old Carlos was losing us a little, a picnic lunch beside a power station, music getting progressively worse, tiredness kicking in. Thankfully Mount Field National Park perked us up and ensured a fine end to the tour. Here there were some majestically tall trees, beautiful waterfalls (the best of the many we saw on the trip) and wild animals. Walking to the falls, we came across this pademelon, a small wallaby type thing.

There were two sets of falls here, smaller but pretty Horsehoe Falls…


…and Russell Falls meandering down from a decent height.

The weather worsened and traffic got heavier as we neared Hobart and it was with a heavy heart that it was time to say goodbye to a few people, but several were staying on for a day or so and went out for some dinner and drinks. The tour was over and it was a fantastic foray into the highlights of this beautiful island, made even better by some good weather and great travelling companions. However, I had not finished with Tasmania quite yet…

Day 14: A drizzly day (apparently it had been like this in Hobart for the last four) left little option but to visit the Cadbury factory with a few other people who were left over from the tour. It was interesting, the smell at times amazing, and plenty of free samples to get you in the mood! The weather cleared a little in the evening and so we were able to get more fish and chips from one of the yummy barges on the waterfront and visit the bars of Salamanca Place on a Friday night.

Ray Mears World

Day 15: Finally, I was able to use up some vouchers I was kindly given for my birthday and Christmas to go on a scenic flight and wilderness tour of the remote Southwest National Park world heritage area. The day was warm and clear as the small six seater departed, heading off over Hobart and the Mount Wellington massif.

We passed the Huon Valley and several ranges and valleys as the landscape became progressively wilder and more remote.

Nearing our destination, Melaleuca, we turned south at the distinctive form of Federation Peak, which is often in cloud but not on this fine morning.

The plane then glided over the huge Bathurst Harbour, which is joined to the ocean by a narrow channel and remains very calm and reflective.

The plane landed on a gravel strip, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. The only sign of anything was a small hut saying welcome to South West Wilderness National Park and a small crate belonging to the Police at the end of the runway. The landscape was pretty barren, buttongrass moorland running up to stony ridges and peaks. From the airstrip a path led to a creek where a tin boat awaited us and took us on a beautiful journey meandering up river and eventually out onto the glassy expanse of Bathurst Harbour. Here we stopped for some morning tea, the peak of Mount Rugby dominating the environment as pink jellyfish curiously wandered over to our boat.

We then powered on out to Port Davey and towards the entrance to the harbour, the landscape very reminiscent of the south west coast of New Zealand, with bays and inlets meeting the sheer walls of mountain ranges.

A scrumptious lunch of fine Tasmanian fare was had on a small gravely beach, overlooking the harbour and mountains, with barely anything but the flies for company. The water is actually quite dark, coloured by natural tannin from the plants growing in the area.

The boat turned round and as the weather began to close in a decision was made to leave a bit earlier than planned. Previously 29 bushwalkers had been stranded down here because the weather was too bad to get them out by plane (the nearest road is 4 days walk away!) I had a flight back home tomorrow so didn’t really want to stay. The flight back was a bit bumpier but took us along the south coast, and the bays of Bruny Island, which was being peppered with showers.

It was with slight relief that we landed safely back at Hobart, avoiding the worst of the weather. Despite being curtailed, it was a wonderful trip into the wilderness – strange to be back in Hobart after being somewhere so remote.

The early finish meant I had time to pack, have a rest and meet one last remaining member of my trip, Kelly, for some nice Italian food. A good dinner at the end of a good holiday, the perfect end to an amazing two weeks of such incredible diversity, great people, fine weather, delicious food, good Tasmanian beer, interesting wildlife and too many fish and chips! Thanks to all who made it so memorable.

All over the place

I’ve been clocking up the miles just recently, taking in the East Melbourne suburbs on Thursday and Friday, but making it back to Canberra in time on Friday night to see a good part of the cricket on TV which, for once, I was glad of! Saturday was spent in Canberra where there was a multicultural festival in the city centre, full of food and entertainment from all over the world – I have never seen Canberra centre so busy or so cosmopolitan come to think of it. You really get used to having lots of space and not having to walk round avoiding bumping into people!

On Sunday afternoon I caught a flight up to Sydney, where it rained and rained and rained! Getting off the plane and on to a bus (a gap of 2 or 3 metres) was enough to get a southern hemisphere soaking. There wasn’t quite enough rain to save the Aussies however, as England miraculously won the one-day cricket competition. I think I am pretty good luck – I was in Sydney when England won the first game against Australia, then in Melbourne the day they won the second and then in Sydney for the third.

I was in Sydney again for some training on Monday and Tuesday and, whilst I didn’t get much time to see the city, I was staying in a quite luxurious room overlooking Darling Harbour.

It was nice to wonder down that way as I hadn’t really been around this area in my trips to Sydney so far in this stint down under.

On Monday night I experienced a pleasant enough meal in Chinatown followed by a cuppa watching the world go by on George Street. Tuesday was mostly spent in an office and then back to Sydney airport again, where the good people of Qantas managed to find me a space on an earlier flight so I could get back to Canberra at a decent hour.

So Canberra is home again, but not for long – Saturday and my two week odyssey to Victoria and Tasmania commences. I can’t wait! This will probably be my last post in a while as I am not sure they have computers down in Tasmania. Excellent! Look out for news and copious lashings of photogenic highlights from down south in a few weeks!

Neilio

The S C Glee

What were the odds? Well about $7 according to the Aussie in front of me who placed a bet on it. It was a beautiful November spring day at Manuka Oval where I saw England set the scene for a summer of despair. It’s been all downhill from there but on Friday night a miracle occurred and I was there to witness it at the Sydney Cricket Ground.

Thanks to a combination of factors – a Friday morning meeting in western Sydney and England’s poor form making tickets on ebay easy to come by, I made it to the one-day international between Australia and England. England made 292, a paced innings with a great century by Ed Joyce and some good hitting at the end, Dalrymple with an entertaining 30 in 18 balls. Here’s some of the action shots…

Ooh ahh Glenn McGrath (about time you retired innit?) squaring up Ian Bell.

Here is Joyce towards the end of his knock.

And the Aussies attempting to bat after the break! Gilchrist was out the very first ball of the innings and you could sense the shock reverberate around the SCG (I guess it would’ve been entertaining if he stayed in a bit longer).

By time the sun went down and the lights came on, the game was drawing to a bit of an anticlimax, England taking regular wickets, though at one stage Hayden and Symonds looked like they could reel it in, until Symonds got injured, possibly his stupid hair got in his vision and he got hurt.


Despite this, the low strength beer which was the only one available was starting to set in, the crowd were doing the Mexican Wave (despite it being banned in all cricket grounds in Australia…probably cos it’s Mexican and not true blue Aussie), and sections of the crowd were in competition to form ‘worms’ out of empty plastic beer cups. This was the one closest to me.

And pretty much that was that. The English fans dotted around the place were overjoyed…more relief than anything that they came all this way and at least saw one victory. It was all very good-natured and a fun day and night, setting up a fine weekend in Sydney.

The Victory Weekend

The weather was just about ideal for a weekend of milling about the harbour, taking walks through the bush, eating ice creams and fish and chips and getting slightly red from the sun. On Saturday I met with someone I didn’t even know, Caroline, a friend of a friend of a friend so to speak, but we met without hassle in Bondi Junction and went to check out some of the sights.

First off was a bus which took us down to Bondi Beach then along to Watsons Bay, at the southern tip of the harbour. Here there are lovely views back to the city and sheer cliffs dropping down to the pounding Pacific.

There was time for white chocolate and raspberry ice cream before catching a fast ferry from Watsons Bay to Circular Quay. A quick change onto the ever glorious Manly ferry led us to a spot of lunch and a walk around part of the middle harbour, across beaches and through bush reserves. It was pretty tiring actually, in the heat of the day, so it was nice to cool off my feet in the ocean at the end of the day, have a cold beer, eat some fish and chips and watch the sun go down from Manly Wharf.

The ferry back to Circular Quay as the lights came on was immensely soothing and relaxing and a long tiring day meant an early nights sleep!

On Sunday morning, I caught another ferry (it’s the way to go!) to Taronga, where the zoo is. However, I didn’t go to the zoo, just walked around from there through Bradleys Head, part of Sydney Harbour National Park. On boarding the ferry, I noticed a huge cruise liner docked in the quay, it was so huge it seemed to tower over the Harbour Bridge!

The walk around to Bradleys Head was pleasant, through shady bush with paths leading off to little sandy coves. The view is another good one.



And before you knew it, it was time to head back, the ferry retracing its wake to Circular Quay, passing the sights and the massive cruise ship, taking me onto a bus and a train and a plane and to the dusty heat of Canberra and a well earned late afternoon kip!

This last week has been absolutely beautiful in Canberra, deep blue skies, perfect cool mornings and thirty degree days. A great time to take a balloon ride like these people over my place this morning.

Advance Australia Yeah

A long weekend courtesy of Australia Day, and, being the national capital, Canberra was putting on plenty of events and celebrations of the Pommies landing in Sydney Cove in 1788. On Australia Day’s Eve, there was a free concert on the lawns of Parliament House, broadcast live on Channel Ten. Mostly it was pap from Australian Idol (which also happened to be on Channel Ten…)

Friday was Straya Day proper, and I proceeded to sunbathe, watch the cricket (for what it was worth!), have a BBQ and then, once darkness had fallen, joined the people of Canberra who had come out of hiding for a fireworks display on the lake. Just a short stroll from home, the walk to the lake took me past Old Parliament House, which was looking sedate.


As well as the fireworks, there was also a “dump and burn” from a fighter jet, which lit the sky like a rocket and was as loud as a hundred galahs multiplied by a thousand cockatoos listening to Rolf Harris plays Metallica at full blast.













The next day took in a few more Aussie icons,
courtesy mostly of the National Museum of Australia, which I visited for the first time. It is around on the north western part of the lake, so I cycled in what turned out to be a strong headwind, taking in more decorations and signs of Australian-ness on the way.

Waltzing along...

First thing to say about the National Museum is what a funky building. Some people will think it looks ridiculous, but there are lots of 60s and 70s concrete constructions tucked away in Canberra and I like the way this breaks the mould. Outside, is the somewhat perplexing “Garden of Australian Dreams”. A garden of most Australian’s dreams is a green lawn but anyhow, this had a different take.


Here we are looking at the outside of the building with good old Lake Burley Griffin reflected.





The museum was good and as it is free and a nice bike ride around the lake, definitely worth a return visit. Some of it looked at the terrible things the Poms did when they arrived but this grew into a celebration of everything that it iconic about the New and the Old Australia. Here follows a series of things Australian…

The hats of the Surf Life-saving clubs across Australia:

A sign from the Northern Territory relating to the everpresent threat and renewing essence of fire. There was an interesting video clip on the Canberra bushfires of 2003 which was just so amazing to see the suburban streets turned into rivers of flames and flying embers.

These are aboriginal spearheads which have been found buried in the iron red earth across the sunburnt country:


This is the Melbourne Cup, a sign of a gambling and sports obsessed country, whose obsession with whacking the Poms knows no end!






And a couple more Aussie icons followed as I cycled along to nearby Black Mountain.

The Beach (?!?!)


And the bush…


Once a jolly swagman,
Neilio