Flamin' Galahs

Ah, Canberra, the heart of a nation so often glossed over in the consciousness of half of Australia and pretty much the rest of the world. A small sedate city of suburban avenues and leaf lined circles, a paradoxical powerhouse of the Pacific where nothing much seems to happen (ooh, eloquent today innit). Yet for a few moments this week this glorified country town was feeling the power and playing out its role as the heart of a nation on the periphery of the world.

The Olympic flame, and all the nonsense which comes with it, trawled round the city streets on Thursday and it was kind of apt that, for a symbol which has brought chaos and unrest to cities around the world, nothing much happened here in Canberra. Sure, there were thousands of Chinese supporters bussed in so that they could stick two fingers up at the Tibetan supporters, a slightly edgy atmosphere, and a whirlwind of helicopters, police and random hangers on. But it passed without major incident. “Canberra shows the world how it’s done” proclaim the organisers. Yup, a great symbol of peace, harmony and freedom surrounded by dozens of police, crack Chinese paramilitaries, numerous official vehicles, and protected by miles of fencing. I don’t even think my weeks’ worth of ironing could be more ironic.



From symbols of peace to memories of war, and that most nerve tingling of unique Australian occasions, Anzac Day. Being un-Australian I didn’t feel too guilty for staying in bed and missing the dawn service but visited the War Memorial later in the day. Despite being un-Australian it’s hard not to get caught up in the eerie mix of solemnity, pathos and national pride when you see the thousands upon thousands of lost lives etched onto the walls of the memorial. These days we live in a lucky country for sure.

When Canberra isn’t at the heart of the nation, the ceremonies desist and it fades away in the national consciousness, it remains a special place for those in the know, a city of often captivating beauty, blessed by an exquisite natural environment and often stunning sunsets! Here we go again… this time taken from the northern shores of Lake Burley Griffin…

Going Great on the B100

Work travails have led to work travels over the past week, taking in Melbourne and the coast of Victoria, Sydney and Dubbo in inland NSW. For the most part it has been uneventful, from airport lounge to hotel room, via a coffee shop here and group room there. The highlight of all this however was the weekend which fell in between, in which I was ideally placed for a drive along the Great Ocean Road.

Work ended and play began in Geelong, home to the AFL champions, Ford Motor Cars and a rather industrial feel thanks to it’s positioning as a port within an hour of Melbourne. It seems the city is trying to shake off it’s dour image by sprucing up the waterfront area (a tried and tested method of urban regeneration), which is kind of pleasant and suitably quirky thanks to random pieces of architecture (you can picture the local council meeting…what does Geelong need… I know some random pieces of concrete and a few licks of paint).

From Geelong you reach the ocean at the town of Torquay, nowhere near as glamorous as the English Riviera, and then Anglesea, nowhere near as full of sheep as the Welsh one. With the day fading, the drive was sublime as the road threads it way along the coast, dropping down to the ocean on the left and bordered by koala infested ranges on the right. With nightfall I reached my destination, the town of Apollo Bay, also known as “paradise by the sea” (as opposed to the other paradise in the bush I suppose?)

A sure sign that I’m my father’s son, I woke the next morning with a 5 on the clock but instead of getting racked off with this, I ventured outside for a walk on the beach (I could hear the waves from my room) and soaked in the transition from the darkness to the light and the anticipation of a beautiful day ahead.

I was pleased to hear Apollo Bay has a lookout and naturally this was my first stop later in the day as I took my very hoonish Ford rental car for a spin.

From here I pushed further inland into the typically lush coastal ranges of the Otways, marked by the huge fern gullies, towering Mountain Ash and trickles of water filtering into reflective pools. It seems such a fertile environment is a breeding ground for all sorts of nasty creatures, though I didn’t see any apart from some screaming brats down at Erskine Falls.

This was a particularly dangerous place as the sign seemed to indicate some wild dancing going on which could lead to crowd surfing. Such hubbub apparently can trigger the trees to fall down and the snakes to infiltrate the party. Australia: is nothing safe?


The foray inland brought me out at Lorne, another cruisy coastal town and back onto the road I had taken in the fading light the night before, but one I was glad to enjoy again, stopping off at pristine beaches, looking out for koala’s bottoms poking out of the trees and veering across narrow inlets and over grand clifftops.

The B100, as this road is less commonly known, veers inland for a while after Apollo Bay, not that the drive is any less captivating, with the gums giving way to Mountain Ash and rainforest gullies. A diversion from here leads down to Cape Otway, comparatively speaking a rather unexciting scrubby headland complete with lighthouse. The road there is probably of greater interest, hosting a large population of those koalas and probably causing a few near misses as drivers look to the treetops.

Returning to Apollo Bay I took in some sand-between-the-toes therapy as the day faded, the waters definitely a wee bit chilly and the sun disappearing into a smoky mist. There was only one way that such a day could end… fish and chips and a bottle of Bundy Ginger Beer, ah.


Sunday morning emerged just gorgeous and I decided to take the old B100 as far as the Twelve Apostles… even though I had visited these before I figured it’s still a pretty spectacular place and given the weather it would be criminal not to. Along the way were a few other lookouts and beautiful beaches, before the giant sandstone lumps of the Apostles themselves.

And that was probably an appropriate high on which to leave the Great Ocean Road and head back inland towards Melbourne. There was one last stop to make and it again involved exploring more lush rainforest of the Otway ranges. Only this time the view was a bit different as I entered the Otway Fly, a surprisingly large complex of elevated walkways, bridges and towers rising above the forest floor.

Back on the road, the forest soon turned into the golden farmland, the small towns increased into suburbs and the road lanes grew as I entered Melbourne, only having to go round in circles the once to drop the car back and return to the life of what sometimes feels like a traveling salesman. After a few more flights it was nice to get back to Canberra later in the week, getting chillier by the minute but still looking great and all ready for the craziness that is the Olympic Torch Relay and ceremony and reflection of Anzac Day. Look out for me on Sky News!

Killer kangaroos and lethal acorns

How do you entertain a fourth time visitor to Canberra? Well, try some killer kangaroos, take in a few cake stops, yet another sunset up Mount Ainslie and a picnic in a hailstorm, and add one final mix of bustling crowds and traffic (where the hell did that come from?!). Hooning around was very much the order of the day as Caroline visited on her last weekend in Australia (such is the power of Canberra… feel the power!).

On Saturday we headed south to Namadgi National Park, a serene if somewhat bleak landscape of high valleys and rocky outcrops, home to hundreds of kangaroos lurking in bushes and old ruins.

Having successfully negotiated those pesky roos and surviving a rather nice picnic we popped into Lanyon homestead, still down to the south of Canberra and so national trust-like we could be in Dorset. Or Wilts. I had yet another disappointing cream tea, but that was as much as I expected from this country, the scones were okay though.

It wasn’t all rural tranquillity though, what with the hustle and bustle of downtown Canberra, coach parties on Mount Ainslie, waiting to be seated at restaurants and marathon runners and cyclists everywhere. Phew, I think I need to get away from all this chaos!

Up on Mount Ainslie, all was pretty much the same as ever, barring the inordinate amount of people watching another fine Canberra sunset.



Down in Kingston, the people were smartly dressed and enjoying the inner south scene (well not at Filthy Mc Faddens), and a scary looking plate of Balmain Bugs and pasta kept the chilly evening at bay.

The next day took us past several runners in the world famous Canberra marathon as we crossed over the lake to the National Museum of Australia. What can you say… typical museum… some stuffed animals, Indigenous stuff, a hills hoist or two, some gold nuggets and iconic Aussie sporting memorabilia. Plus the slightly odd Garden of Australian Dreams.

Now some might say the Garden of Australian Dreams is actually down on the south side of the lake, though today it was more like the Garden of Hitchcock Nightmares as the bells tolled, the leaves turned blood red, the swans turned black and the apocalyptic storm swept in. Perfect for a picnic in the car.

It seems Canberra survived the apocalypse and reverted to just about normal in the late afternoon, where I went for a walk and didn’t take any pictures, so I can’t take any of the credit for these!



So that’s another catch up from the heart of the nation, the national capital, Canberra that is, the only place in Australia where the Olympic torch can be seen as it is lobbed into the lake. Coming up, a mini tour of the south east as I am off to Victoria later in the week and then onto Sydney and inland NSW.

Walk number 3

Taronga to Balmoral, Sydney

A tale of two cities

Commuting Aussie style has been the theme of recent times and is set to continue in the next week with my time alternating between Canberra and that little village up the road, Sydney. This week took me to Sydney for a few days and for once I didn’t catch a ferry anywhere whatsoever. Most of my time was spent between my hotel in the CBD and just across Darling Harbour and into Pyrmont. That’s not to say I didn’t get to see the sights, courtesy of my wonderful hotel room up on the 35th floor.

Meanwhile, back in the national capital, autumn has been creeping in and with it, beautiful days and cool nights. I have been undergoing a process of naturalisation, taking in two ‘footie’ matches at Canberra Stadium. Last Saturday was the Canberra Raiders v St George Illawarra Dragons in Rugby League. For some reason the Raiders have a theme and mascot of Vikings… I have no idea what the connection between Canberra and Vikings are, but it gives the local hoons something to aspire to.

This weekend took in the ACT Brumbies v the Chiefs… and yes the Brumbies mascot is a rather pathetic looking horse. Being more familiar to Rugby Union this was something I could easier follow and I even recognised some names (well one name, Stirling Mortlock, who plays for the Brumbies). Alas the Brumbies lost but there were plenty of tries and a winning bet on first try scorer covered the cost of an Aussie meat pie and beer!

Despite all these attempts to fit in, it still seems I’m a bit of an oppressed ethnic minority, and have taken to some serious protesting…






Of course, with autumn comes the wonderful changing of the leafy suburban streets to a patchwork of reds and yellows and browns. The colours have not quite peaked yet, but a Saturday afternoon walk certainly showed the change in effect.

So it’s back to Sydney tomorrow, hopping across the skies to the city by the sea. My last flight took an amazing approach over the city, so all I can hope is that the flying kangaroo provides me with a window seat and more spectacular views. Meanwhile, back in Canberra the chill will set in and those leaves will continue to crisp up just nicely.