Pictures

This picture sums up what it's like to be Down Under - huge, spectacular scenery. It's such a pity that it's not yet possible to incorporate the pungent eucalyptus and ocean aromas in a photograph.

Philippa and some of the previously twelve Apostles by 'the Great Ocean'.

Our route from Halls Gap, via a two night stay at Port Fairy, took us along The Great Ocean Road - otherwise known as 'The Great Ocean' and its famous Twelve Apostles. These limestone pinnacles have been battered by The Southern Ocean to such a degree that they are depleted in number, but it doesn't matter because it's such a beautiful coastline, with or without. Humphrey and I travelled along the same road thirty years ago and this time a friendly ozzie tourist volunteered to take the above pic. She was taken aback with the aforementioned fact and appeared to be surprised that we were still standing (let alone smiling), having clearly lived so long.

Christmas Eve in Ballarat

It's hot and sunny at last and feels very 'other' Christmassy. Holly and Pete have everything under control and Holly is revelling in the power she has over her mother at this festive time. I am very happy not to have to worry about who is coming, when, and what to feed them - and all the other stuff, especially presents. Don't get me wrong, I love choosing, wrapping, giving and receiving presents, but it is liberating not having to. It's probably easier to take presents out of Christmas in a hot climate, where plans for our camping trip are as important as planning what time to eat on Christmas day.

Now that the sun is shining properly, I've lost interest (sorry) in the snowy conditions back home, although I am eager to know where you are and what you are doing, so please post a comment if you have the time. Time to pop out and 'help' with some last minute shopping.

Moving on

I'm writing this from Holly and Pete's house in Ballarat. It's lovely here, for all sorts of reasons - not necessarily in order.

It's a home, with family in it - obviously a first on the list. We are reminded of Christmas by the pretty tree and increase in the number of the multi-coloured (prefer these to plain) flashing lights adorning the picture rails. We can (and are at this moment) all using the Internet at the same time. Our washing is at long last flapping on a clothes line (only on my list of favourites!). Holly has bought a very expensive plum pudding for Christmas because she wanted to keep a family tradition going Down Under. I am obviously thrilled, except that I've never eaten a plum pudding in my life - which caused much hilarity. There are no lucusts here, except that Holly's laptop sounds as if there is one trapped somewhere within its workings.

Off to town shortly, so will write more later.

Living with locusts

Tomorrow is our final day at Halls Gap (no apostrophe after all) and the novelty of locusts wore off the day after the previous blog. They don't sting, bite, smell, or set out to persecute human bodies directly, but there are so many of them (gazillions) that they can't help but inconvenience 'normal' holiday activities. Of course, I am well aware that they cause devastation to farm crops, etc. but, being on holiday, I'll leave that debate for another time.

This evening, we arrived back to our totally infested holiday park at Halls Creek, which consists of cabins of the brick (us) and log varieties, caravans, campers - and the poor tenters (us a week after Christmas). The annoying creatures tend to clusture by the gazillion against walls, in corners and against the sides of tents, windows and on warm concrete. They also behave differently at different times of the day. In the evening, they line up like cars in a car park - or sausages in a string - ready to rest up for the night. Unfortunately this involves our front door and getting inside is difficult without letting any inside.

One locust inside can have a more powerful impact than ten gazillion outside, usually resulting in much human (female) activity and pleas to 'get it out'. Of course, 'getting it out' is not so simple due to the fly screens on the windows and the risks of invasion resulting from opening the front door. Thankfully we have a knight in shining armour in residence, who either claims not to hear our pleas or does his best to appear to please. I felt one fluttering around me last night and am sure that it spent the night roosting on me (if that's what they do) and I put it out in the morning.

There are many lovely walks within easy reach of where we are staying at Halls Gap, which is a valley cutting through the Grampian Mountains. The population is only 300 but there is the potential for 6 000 people to stay here, so it's a very popular weekend destination for Ozzies and tourists. However, the locust invasion which is very widespread has resulted in Halls Gap being something of a ghost town, with no more than a couple of dozen people ever being visible at one time. The central campground is empty and there were no other customers in the medium sized supermarket yesterday.

We have walked (hiked in the local lingo) to some beautiful waterfalls and stunning lookout points, with fewer beasties at higher altitudes. Yesterday we forgot the altitude effect and planned a walk from Halls Gap. Silly us. We had to turn back because it was unpleasant and difficult to enjoy the surroundings. Even when we re-located to a higher spot at Silverband falls, which was as magical a place as it sounds, the locusts were ready to continue their persecution.

Today we decided to abandon the area and drove for about 200kms north-west, towards the dry deserty corner of Victoria. We barely encountered anywhere which was locust free but enjoyed a change of scene from mountainous to prairie-like, corn growing, mostly flat, agricultural country.

I almost forgot to mention the weather which I'm sure is a pre-occupation with my reader(s) - their's rather than mine. It is warmer here than Ballarat and we've had some quite hot days, generally needing the air-con in the car. However, we have seen hail, heard thunder and listened to heavy rain pounding on the roof at night - probably encouraging the locusts in their locusty habits. Thankfully it has hardly rained during the day, but the temperatures vary and it tends to be chilly at night.

I've just been informed by Phil that my potato will be cold soon, so I will leave it here. As we forgot to bring Scrabble (could only find Snakes & Ladders in supermarket!), we will be spending what is left of the evening watching some Ozzie tv - the highlight tonight being 'Christmas Carols at the Sydney Opera House'. We haven't thought too much about Christmas. In future years, I may feel the need to hang locust look-alikes on the tree - or not.

It's raining locusts

It's not so much raining locusts but snowing locusts. Apparently at night (according to Philippa's web research), the Australian Plague Locust is known for being heard 'raining' on rooftops - so we are in for a noisy night. The above is a pic of Dave, who showed us to our cabin and revelled in the locusts as much as we did - we all may feel differently tomorrow.

Today we travelled the relatively short distance from Ballarat to Hall's Gap, in the Grampians, greeted on the approaches by the said locusts. The windscreen soon became splattered and Phil wondered what a Buddhist would do. I have never seen anything like it and the initial wonder and excitement could be likened to a first snow flurry. I dread to think what sort of slush we'll find in the morning.

Fortunately we are staying in a very salubrious cabin which is almost locust-proof, apart from the fragments finding their way down through the extractor fan above the cooker. Having just this moment popped out of the front door to assess the situation, I've unfortunately let three of the 'hoppers' in and having been mildly chastised by my dinner companions (Humphrey and Phil), I hope none of us inadvertently eats one - especially the non-meat eaters - although the windscreen green slime residue is visually more grass-slime like than meat. Talking of grass, most of the green stuff in this campsite in the sun has been stripped down to brown.

The sun has just set at 8.00pm and a huge number of locusts have departed, as the info on the internet said they would. I've just caught sight of a Kookaburra enjoying a late feast on what's left of the lawn outside our window. Flying Long-billed Corellas have also been doing the same. Our wordsmith Phil, has pointed out that the car we are driving is a Corolla?!?

Have just caught sight of a Kangaroo (first this hol), nuzzling locusts on the grass in the dusk - am beginning to feel like I'm actually Down Under. Phil has just read something about snow and travel disruption in the UK and I'm grateful to be here and not there - locusts and all.

Too cold to blog

It's very cold here in Ballarat. It should be in the thirties centigrade and instead it's about 17 by day and very cold by night. I have barely a strip of cloth to wrap around one arm, let alone one of the multiple woolly/fleecy garments of home, which are now just a distant dream. Victoria has been in the grip of much needed wet but not so welcome cold - just my luck. I shouldn't have longed for warmth with quite such desperation. We plan to camp for a week after Christmas, sleeping in my super-thin sleeping bag, last used seriously in the extremely hot temperatures of the Kimberleys.

Oh well... must make more of an effort to re-claim my adventurous spirit which isn't supposed to care too much about climatic conditions. Phil has just announced that the sun has shown itself and we are spending the day with Holly and Pete, celebrating Holly's birthday - although it's not until tomorrow. Tomorrow she leaves for a field trip trapping mammals in the Ottways and we'll be re-united just before Christmas. We'll be heading for the Grampians so I'll need to relocate my adventurous spirit by Tuesday.

Happy to be in Hong Kong

Just arrived at Hong Kong airport, with the rising sun. It is an impressive place to be in transit for three hours, with views of hazy blue skies, distant mountains and close-by sea with container ships, visible from the huge plush departure lounge - although anywhere would be huge and plush after ten hours in a plane with what sounded like half of the population of China's very noisy mothers and babies as additional background noise.

We hardly notice the lack of frozenness at Heathrow on the morning of department, such was our enthusiasm to get going. Unfortunately the snow/frost was replaced with a cold for Phil, with a swift nasal passages decline which has continued throughout the flight. But she is a stoical girl and has dragged herself up off from a prone position to visit the internet. She may well revert to proneness if Humphrey continues to lecture her about the export of iron ore from Australia to 'the large manufacturing centres of South East Asia'. "That's a double width one, that is..." says H. "It's very clever", says Phil. They are both watching huge crates being unloaded, such is the fascination with life outside of living in a plane.

...except that they are now both giving a running commentary on catering items being loaded onto a Cathay Pacific aircraft (our airline), probably anticipating the next in-flight meal. Phil thinks 'Cathay' should be spelt 'cafe' and she wants to google its origins "when we get back to civilisation".

Humphrey is keen to work out how long the next flight will take. The outcome of his workings out have echoes of a maths reasoning question. We don't generally trust his haphazard responses to 'how long' questions, especially as he was three hours out for the last flight. Anyway... this is what he said, "We are in Hong Kong, which is 8 hours ahead of the UK. We are going to Melbourne which is 11 hours ahead of the UK. So, we're leaving here at 10.10am and arriving at Melbourne at 10.25pm, which in Hong Kong time will be 7.25pm. So 10.10 from 7.25 leaves 9 hours and 15 minutes." So that's the estimated next leg of incarceration.

The above was written approx. 20 hours ago.

Packing and panicking

We're due to leave the house in a few minutes. Philippa has just had it drawn to her attention that her parents are dressed almost identically, which hasn't gone down too well. As he and I are not exactly 'jet setters' (jet sitters more like), we are inclined to go for the tough wearing, robust, weather proof, anything might happen look. If you have occasionally glanced at a Milletts/Blacks/Cotswold window display, then that is us. It's unfortunate that we are also wearing matching colours.

As there is a hard frost and all the recent snow, ice, central heating on full, etc., it has been difficult getting into the packing for bare arms mindset. Holly added to the confusion yesterday when she said that her Australian version of a Christmas tree was already up and decorated, and that it was the equivalent of a lovely English summer's day in Ballarat. Oh well... there's a blogging queue so best compose myself for what's to come.

Back into blogging - to blog or not to blog

It has been a long time since I visited these pages, let alone wrote anything here. I've tried actual handwriting a diary since Chile but the content only seems to be of interest to me as I'm writing it. After all, who wants to get stuck into the fine details of what I've eaten in a day, where I've been or how many and which birds I may or may not have seen? Being obsessively over-ethical in such jottings, I am inclined to leave out people-based observations just in case I write something which can be used in evidence against me at a later date.

Keep an eye on my progress 'dear readers' (unlikely to be any yet), to find out whether I take a different approach as Humphrey, Phil and I head off Down Under to visit Holly and Pete in Ballarat, Victoria, Australia - yippee. Only the rest of today and tomorrow to go and, snow willing, we head for Heathrow and the other side of the world.