tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82056770584761450092024-02-20T17:56:18.417-08:00AussieOdysseyUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-22266976069852283502007-09-26T20:04:00.000-07:002007-09-26T20:37:30.018-07:00HomeSept 24<br /><br />We flew from Brisbane to Sydney and took a cab to hotel on Coogee Beach, which is on Sydney's Tasman Sea coast, not too far from the airport. Picked this locale just to have a little sample of Sydney beach life that evening and the following morning.<br /><br />My pocket itinerary that I had printed up with all our comings, goings, and doings said we left the following afternoon at 1:25 on our Qantas flight to LAX. Some time the afternoon of the 24th, Dick said, “Are you sure about our departure time? My reservation confirmation document says 10:20am and your itinerary says 1:25pm.” Yikes, he’s right! My flight doc does, too. Way back last spring when we made air reservations our original Qantas plans changed when we added our in-country flights. I had not gotten that change into the itinerary I had typed up and had not caught the mistake in subsequent updates. I’d been using that pocket itinerary for every day’s important times, confirmation numbers, and contact phone numbers. WE COULD HAVE MISSED OUR FLIGHT! Thanks, Dick.<br /><br />Moral of the story: Check everything. Rely on original documents. Trust, but verify.<br /><br />At any rate, with much relief, we found an open-air fish place on a street of beach-town sorts of shops and informal restaurants for one last fishandchips – maybe our best. You had your choice of various types of fish displayed in front of you and we chose red snapper, not some lesser variety generally used in takeaway fishandchip houses. Sat on wooden benches on the sidewalk and along with the fishandchips enjoyed the scene and a balmy evening.<br /><br />The flight east is a little shorter in time than the flight over and it definitely seemed shorter. Watched a couple of movies and read most of <em>Confederacy of Dunces</em>, didn’t sleep. That may help with the jet lag because I didn’t have a problem in either direction this time, unlike our trips to and from Hong Kong last December.<br /><br />Oh, one cultural oddity I've been meaning to mention is that Australian crossword puzzles are different from U.S. ones (I generally buy a newspaper and do crosswords while traveling). The Aussie puzzles have a lot more spaces and a lot less interconnection among their words. For example, a seven-letter vertical word may have three of its letters not connected with horizontal words -- there's just adjoining spaces. This can leave some words ambiguous, unless you really know what the clue is after. For some Australian place names, I didn't have a chance. I wonder why and how this different structure arose.<br /><br />Another itinerary disconnect was that after our Qantas flights change, we didn’t change our SW flight home, thinking, on bad information, that the layover was about right. Now, it was seven hours. For a small fee, though, we could change flights, so we did, arriving in ABQ in early afternoon. Susie, who had spent most of this time traveling among her kids, met us.<br /><br />After a little practice, a day later I think I can drive on the right side now. Have to think about where the turn signals and gas gauge are, though.<br /><br />So, that’s it: Great trip, memorable times, really good to be home.<br /><br />Cheers,<br /><br />Rob<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114716616425449554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTNIWxlIoad3i8cmttlYQz6DVHwEZb__bNMSzsDR0WBfIp5Rd8AwCew5xl1oxWaJN59i8zFZV2sWZeEG_eQ60KnXozkrtblpCehNR5c2KJ8flg2ZA1T9eGqQqpvPa3dO-5FFJUyyMNqHA/s320/sydneybridgesunset.jpg" border="0" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-28920847997053391072007-09-26T14:34:00.000-07:002007-09-26T18:51:22.113-07:00Tilt Train<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeRFUITccyTikv5pUp377nUoy20jxBxTgZJQdhFtBMc-sq6GFd59CCeCrc8ZrivTQQruJISGKJRj0-54jdqBBMJXMlLxul4jMQSQWdzgNcMEbQDyCChx0ZgeSo5d-0-CykIXmVvc5sKz0/s1600-h/DSC02778.JPG"></a>Sept 23<br /><br />Planes, trains, campers, buses, helicopters, cars, boats. See Australia! We’ve done it all. Now it's back to a train for the 1000 mile, 25 hr. trip from Cairns to Brisbane, along the Queensland coast. Incidentally, the golfer, Greg Norman, known as the Great White Shark, is from Queensland. Was reminded of this by an Aussie tabloid story about his former wife’s bitter feelings about Chris Evert, the tennis player, who stole her man. I didn’t know that happened.<br /><br />The Tilt Train is sleek, quiet, and smooth-riding. The seats are comfortable and versatile and the windows are large. There are even electrical outlets so that I can plug in the very computer on which I am now writing. No wireless, though. It doesn't have sleepers or a dining car -- there's a snack bar car and it sells airline types of meals.<br /><br />The train, which is called the fastest narrow gauge train in the world (though narrow gauge here is not what it is in the US), is capable of speeds up to 100 mph. It won’t do this on our trip, it turned out, due to technical problems. In the first two-thirds of the trip there are too many unprotected intersections for that sort of speed. One wonders why the problem intersections have not been upgraded or eliminated. Nice lady tells us the government is foot-dragging. The Train mag notes that the TT was just extended to Cairns in 2003, though from what point south I don’t know, so that’s not a lot of time for designing and building new intersections. We had hoped for some high speed later in the trip, even though it would be after dark, but, as noted, it didn’t happen. Anyway, still a nice and interesting trip.<br /><br />We start out passing through sugar cane fields – herewith starts a km by km report on the trip (just kidding). We stop at a station about every 30 mins. We soon see some tropical-looking trees with bags hanging from them and wonder what they are. Nice man explains they are banana trees; the bags are protecting developing bunches. Just tie ‘em off and ship them to the grocers.<br /><br />On the topic of sugar cane, Dick was intrigued by the machines used to harvest cane and on the drive from Dan’s to dinner, the evening before, we pulled off the road so he could get a picture, and by good fortune, talk to the cane farmer about it. Turns out this cane harvester was manufactured in Louisiana. Next year’s version will be green because the company now belongs to John Deere. Here's a picture of an Iowa corn grower interrogating a Queensland cane grower.<br /><br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114635639112050674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBw6iru1-1USdYOftJvBW3Y4IX0iF-pkax-bL55TLZEXSwW8Z5XI0P92idbDkgGqP7dmtWbSBZxGVo-liDgiDJs2AfF50y2VJNZ2hubDu7ur_B2gqTcPN1-Qeh9RpABLGLJ3P_dz_-xIU/s320/DSC02734.JPG" border="0" /><br />One other point: They get one crop of cane a year and three years of production by sugar cane plants before they plow them under and start another three-year cycle.</p><p><br />Back to the liveblog: Three or four hours later the countryside transitions into much dryer, fairly barren pasture land. The mountains that had been on our right are gone. Brahma cattle, which we’ve been told do well in tropical climes, are seen. Isn’t this exciting! The pastures seem to have suffered from a combination of drought and overgrazing. Next to the track the grass is much lusher than in the pastures.<br /><br />Oops, now we’re back into sugar cane. Maybe we’re going the wrong way! This train has a backward facing engine on its back end. They pushed the wrong button! Never mind. Think I’ll drop the running report and go tidy up earlier reports and get them ready for posting, some day, somewhere.<br /><br />4:12pm. Just crossed a river.</p><p>Night: Now it’s dark.<br /><br />I don’t sleep much. Watch a couple of movies. Read some <em>Robinson Crusoe</em>. This is my second shipwreck and survival book on this trip. The first was <em>The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket</em>, by Edgar Allan Poe, both from my Paul Theroux-inspired reading list. I think Theroux liked Poe's book because it was the ultimate trip gone bad story. Top ten things you don't want to happen on a sea voyage. </p><br /><p>After one long chapter of <em>Crusoe</em> I decide I’ve had enough of the high seas for now. I have paid ample homage to historic English literature (endured long, ornate sentences) and so I switch to <em>The Confederacy of Dunces</em>, the funniest book I’ve ever read. (I will go back and finish <em>Robinson Crusoe</em> -- it is interesting and more than just an adventure story.)<br /><br /><em>Confederacy</em> is a Pullitzer-prize winner that my book club did several years ago and I decided it was time for a re-read. Walker Percy, who wrote a really clever and to the point introduction (that you should not avoid reading), said he was astounded more on his third reading than on his first, which blew him away.<br /><br /><em>Confederacy</em> is an example of a one-book phenomenon, tragically in this case. The author, John Kennedy Toole, committed suicide before the book was published. In fact the reason the book was published was because Toole’s mother implored Percy to read it several years after her son's death – she knew it was a great book. Oh, sure, he thought, but as he finally read it, after her repeated urging, he was hooked.<br /><br />It’s morning, now. Dick reports success – he just saw a real live wallaby in the wild. Up to now it had just been a couple of road-kill kangaroos that I saw and Dick didn’t. A little bit later we both see wallabies, or maybe kangaroos – these are large fellas: size is the main distinction between wallabies and kangaroos -- near the track. Now we can go home with no unfulfilled expectations. </p><br /><p>I also saw this prominent mountain along our route this morning. It was one of several such outcroppings along the way. Can't find any mountain names on my most detailed map.<br /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114635647701985282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOKi4c6GQWc6DpGkZdhnxrXYNIGWI_PZnEUXzYVI9IlHbPByWVtMeGtEzoEB2M1kfQFSnF-aP3oIImeQ2RLN7x2JFjz9eFxFy4ZVUJ7NeAma9IWzsvpe62uBe2r-gsddOqKfoyuotVPDw/s320/DSC02757.JPG" border="0" /><br />We arrive in Brisbane an hour late, but still with several hours to occupy before we fly to Sydney. We’d left several hours between arrival and departure from Brisbane either to see some of Brisbane – check it off our life list – or to allow for major train delays. So, we took a city-sights bus tour. It was a good tour, driver drove his bus like a sports car, and gave me a good feel for the city.</p><p>Here are a couple of pix. Brisbane is the largest Australian city in area, and the third or fourth largest in population (Dick and I remember both Perth and Brisbane claiming third place after Sydney and Melbourne). You could look it up. The building below is former train station.</p><p><br /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114639049316083778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghNckWxwMX9Fvuw7LksJsxxf1NBN95ZvNxNhkhuvY8xfKq0vvU0HbvWTyHF3PqvdY9ukFzlmxFUbIUnOlgcEDBPkgjNOyDLllNTDNsn8wsp1BEo3ka0cDVFmICgAzyUKhfh7LIOra66Ik/s320/DSC02772.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114639032136214578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhesT9PsVOB-RGF6oL2-vWh6KkE2TpCB7lhr4nT3KXHSsVaT6k2UPdYXHKG8hwGkwtN_8TEoqmf_E5l6G_Rrra-wJr1QxeIPFZ8ay9fhu9TkHI0ihmfKIphuSEAhToSaT6dsNirEIwz4_I/s320/DSC02776.JPG" border="0" /><br />We fly on to Sydney for the night en route to flight home the next day.</p><p>Cheers,<br /><br />Rob </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-69406421494483322572007-09-25T18:46:00.000-07:002007-09-26T14:06:28.208-07:00Daintree RiverSaturday, Sept 22 - Dan Irby’s Mangrove Adventures<br /><br /><br />We check out of our Ellis Beach Bungalow and stop just across the road for “breaky,” pronounced breckie – Aussie slang for breakfast. I go for a special treat: baked beans on toast. Try it some time. Warm up a can of beans (plain, not with barbecue or bacon or detectable flavoring) and dump it on your toast and you can take credit for an Aussie breakfast. Nearly raw eggs, sunny side up, are an Aussie breaky tradition, too, but I got to where I skipped those, and I like eggs with some run to them).<br /><br />From Ellis Beach we drive just over an hour north, first winding along the coast, then easier driving through an area of sugar cane fields. We find Dan and then head down river on his boat to pick up a couple from Santa Cruz, CA. Janelle is a botanist; her husband, Max, works in Silicon Valley (or has worked, we’re not sure). (Maureen told me that if you want to remember a name, you have to use it, so I just did.) Dan had planned not to take any customers this day, but these folks had only this day available and a real, professional interest in learning about the plant and animal life on the Daintree. Their interests helped expand our horizons so we were glad they were along.<br /><br /><div><div><br /><div>Speaking of passengers, Dan told us later that Jane Fonda had been on his boat, and Neil Simon, and Robert Reich, Secy. of Labor under Bill Clinton. Said Jane was somewhat preoccupied with her grandchildren on the trip with her. </div><br /><div>He likes trips with people who have questions and interests, vs. those who just sit there, though he's been surprised by big tips from folks who just sat during the whole tour. A few years ago he was "found" by the Frommer's folks, who gave him an enthusiastic write-up, and that plug has been good for the quantity and quality of his business. Also, his boat doesn't have a canopy, so he can get closer to the banks and go further up side creeks. He now just runs a single 10-seat boat, also good for maneuverability and personal interactions. Previously he had three boats and an assistant for handling tour-bus sorts of loads. (I think I've become his PR agent.) </div><br /><br /><div>Dan worked for years in Melbourne (on the south coast of Australia), doing biological research at Monash U, but knew he wanted to move to the tropics – get away from Melbourne’s chilly, drizzly weather. He vacationed here in upper Queensland for three years and then, just by luck, fourteen years ago on his way to look at some property, met a guy who had a tour-boat business and house to sell. Dan’s easily made the transition from researcher and lab administrator to river rat (that’s meant complimentarily) and tour guide.<br /><br />Here’s Dan, in his office. He would have fit in among Captain Cook’s crew.<br /><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114328407216465746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYIMiVnYN6gUr1DTRtzCD7iAczc71jrCSxnJAxTftcB8XkuIfzR093-TaVp23JEL6JGYLOYVma73TMOAIUStjs9VkGchIwtV_b4a_-3ka4WuTudd_oc57a0kVRs3fSBD_Q-4EvVLOt2MU/s320/DSC02691.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />A little history. Captain Cook did not discover the Daintree River as he sailed up the east coast – its mouth is not at all apparent from off the coast. Gold discovered in the mountains inland from here in 1873 led to a search for a port and the river’s discovery a century after Cook's voyage. (Along this line, just before our trip I came across a current Aussie newspaper article on a virtually unknown river way out in the Outback. Bryson, in <em>Sunburned Country</em>, remarked on the “unknowness” of Australia even after 200 years of settlement. There are so many places you just wouldn’t want to go to and people don’t.)<br /><br />Mangroves, the main theme of our tour, are amazing trees, the way they have adapted to their various environmental challenges. I probably don’t have these numbers right, but there are 51 mangrove species worldwide and 39 of them are along the Daintree. That’s why it is a world heritage site. (For a scientific discussion, may I suggest Google and Wikipedia. I started off asking Dan a question that confused mangroves with mangoes! Not the way to get the respect of a biologist and a botanist.) </div><br /><div>Mangroves are inundated twice a day by salt water. They cope with all this environment through extensive above-ground root systems.<br /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114620091330439122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZTE6vStPs7uDV-mdZKl7iqhF9QHUP12_pZMLUJZLCqxa6aMw6XBMxnOPWlPf6WGs8QnYg9yWjR2jGyKaOHQBX0iSn5_TlrpP71tNDDXYTtU9RYTnGPtbD0bcYjlHgwO2Qt3w-s-7GaW8/s320/DSC02699.JPG" border="0" /><br />Dan, of course, knows his flora and fauna. He can spot a small cluster of orchids high in a tree, instantly identify high-flying birds, and find crocodiles. We saw three crocs. These are the salt-water variety. A small one was swimming with just his eyes visible and submerged quickly (they can submerge 2-3 hours) as we went by. One big guy we saw was sliding into the water as we approached. Then, there was this big guy sunning on the bank. We obviously did not bother him at all. I should have zoomed in so you would think we were in danger, but that would be wrong. </div><div><div> </div><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114620095625406434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXHFd7x7tYyqD9qpKW8e6F9zkNxw-huN93nKpZrC0ufbd6A5TxL2mlE4ViRaQClPpv92tD-nauVvjKYaikTGAxwOkELhjB7swjbvOU2V8Hjzmp9xC_9LnWExbSWNFGMO3UTWCLRF3hDO4/s320/DSC02711.JPG" border="0" /><br />We first worked our way down the river to its mouth. Dan said this was his favorite spot on the river – liked to come down here by himself, with a fishing pole and refreshments, and spend most of the day. I claimed its appeal was the flat horizon – reminiscent of our part of Oklahoma.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114339707275421586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpfalfqofTjnDxVyORgUItiQPMbptUxn4nauhJoWLaDvO6bhD-6g_ZX0y1hEZVeklpcjH8QkRhRQxV6_gnSXEcZpJxuv9LSSoiSPwYRDHbSCdPNBlR-F2igUfuNPy0556MFtI6ZO7bRfs/s320/DSC02703.JPG" border="0" /><br />Then we went up river quite a ways, about as far as low tide would permit, skirting around islands and up side creeks.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114331748701022066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRHUVkR9baWP-qkxYc2YlF_BFahBHdRpDji_SCVmrm_aCb87sRp9dCYYCFZjMgZqVa8vPT8ZuGttzY64lN4JAgI7ZFZAdUlamKtKXcK-q4qFHzQl8iXyz0lNT78SJaYBYeb3kIznOv2JE/s320/DSC02719.JPG" border="0" /> </div></div><br /><div>After about four hours on the river we all went to lunch at the crossroads café. Dick and I then followed Dan as he dropped his paying customers off and went to his house. Nice spot back in the rain forest with a cabin that fits the environment. He fed his pet bird and we had a good visit, mostly catching up on classmates. Dan has more email contact with them than I do, but I'm the first classmate to visit him in Australia. We decided to get serious on a 50th reunion in 2010. In Dan’s annual, I wrote that I looked forward to taking my children to him when he became a vet, which was then his ambition. Pretty sharp HS humor, don’t you think?<br /></div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114615976751769522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwtFq938hirL4cQ9jPb2EddX9uvI9MKBVNEWLj-fEiCIl72Mi2lfwWnasGlUIRu3q0GQ_mNy3OweIXrtB_yJk_kZ63JwFNHgv8tTf2KjsIo4naUBDHFzQVQL1msBVzjkLg1N0zSNcJac/s320/DSC02732.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />Then it was back to the crossroads café and bar for dinner. Again, this is the sort of place you expect to see Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. Dark barroom, with a bit of a rough feel, antique stuff hanging around, and a resident tree frog on the light fixture over the bar. I said he, the frog, probably feeds on barflies, doesn’t he – more great HS humor.<br /><br />After a memorable day with Dan and his river we drove back to Cairns, found our motel and dropped off the rental car. Next up: Tilt Train to Brisbane, flight to Sydney. </div><br /><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114615981046736834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZfOoPmqrT0BANZ_FhRF58evZCOfipbWtg_-q4-mtmPwMnIbl7EoqTNyZuhRX8xmNMY9bq_jbtaN8Ptlysydj_3aS3jPApGgHIvd-J7Q7bcCmYgjan6SGTC2ZTJte4MJBhQjwDm58Bg40/s320/DSC02736.JPG" border="0" /><br />Cheers,<br /><br />Rob </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-34569028565910693302007-09-25T17:53:00.000-07:002007-09-26T14:51:17.306-07:00Great Barrier ReefThursday, Sept 20<br /><br />By the time we got to Cairns and picked up our rental car, from a real chirpy guy at a low-cost agency not at the airport, it was about dark. We stopped for fishandchips at a take-away place, then drove north to find our lodging in Ellis Beach. It’s about a half-hour drive, if you do all the roundabouts correctly. Well, we missed one, but realized right away that we had. We were following the Captain Cook Highway, but all of a sudden it changed numbers and that took us off on the wrong exit from the roundabout. We could tell right away we were heading inland instead of following the coast (Captain Cook didn't always get it right, either). Getting turned around, though, somehow involved driving the wrong way on two different shopping center access roads, but we made it with no mishaps or insults, with one driver politely and clearly pointing out, "You're going the wrong way."<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Here’s a shot from our porch of sunrise over the Tasman Sea the following morning. Nice place. Our Frommer’s Guide tipped it as a “real value.” Too bad we won’t be spending much time in it.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114310617461925538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjckaRCWFaZTmdOoMjUK8RLJtYLfqJnGXJmM5ncquq3lCk37rLt6RjzdVmHmS2uJ-5-x2CGY9wlfz-xl8vTH7Gj1vlLGIaKPyl2ngm-X_I_CvHhnZIDcGkfcFdVQr5wPz8T27oLyA5LpLk/s320/DSC02654.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><br />And here's a bungalow and rental-car view:<br /><br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114310634641794738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW5owYkznJzLNanBl8OO53khHHqDaDwmuhtMdsznp32z5xNnZ5BUNvlq9u1rznkVewwKnfUZPBUlIfVvAI04KhMP3bxpa7U5tshz5cfEN5DedkTWAd9W87NIpObeW0KDXs0cRnEG8fTgs/s320/DSC02687.JPG" border="0" /> </p><p>Here's a little beach-music video. Just click on the arrow in lower left corner. Turn your volume up.</p><p><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy_7s3YNtJqCdbjG2IRZNRwF-pzgGS9pyv6bKgnM1g9HD5BcNRhGjDiOPFq9Vkd96BDNo137HExIE8lT9c1dA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p>Next morning we leave the bungalow at 615 am to go back to Cairns for our Green Island and Great Barrier Reef Cruise.<br /><br />Green Island is a national park about an hour out from the harbor. It has nice beaches, crystal clear water, a resort, and other activities such as parasailing and glass-bottom boating. We used most of the two hours there to practice snorkeling. </p><br /><p></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114312494362633922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnURrkUw_nM3j7er2D3w-z9wjG_fTPcOf0lcUp9ON_Z1necn8CPgPx238m6jh8U2R2YzdZclkrvDfsd4-tAVnrTF8JM1wGqxng2vGPdduPS098z6vVBCFYSLqTLm0BJhlXF2ulABFnHAg/s320/DSC02660.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><p>Another hour on the boat got us to a tour-agency's pontoon on the Great Barrier Reef. There were various options there, plus lunch. We started with a semi-submersible ride. This a boat with a viewing compartment below water level. This gave us a good intro to the coral types and formations and the tropical fish. </p><br /><p>After lunch I had decided to sign up for a SCUBA dive for beginners, but I was too late – it was already subscribed. We spent most of the rest of the time snorkeling. Dick and I were kind of nervous about leaving our possessions – cameras, passports, … -- unattended so we took turns in the water. There he goes now! </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114315432120264402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXGJIfnLYP07hBISf00Gv6lm3xScy-iaIMcEq6-YX0eXlCMgRcUOfco0jUv3r8tqHZKcRRFlbtQIFM_cyGmzsskgXXiXNsYHgqOLJ96sa8zdJO8S3Eh0Ojh54TaEgyhr1nfal5pM8fmSY/s320/DSC02677.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />Also, they warned older guests against overexertion, so we didn't. </p><p></p><br />Bryson, with his fixation on the many ways to die in Australia, tells a tale of a tour boat returning from the Reef and leaving two snorkelers out there (not in the neighborhood of a pontpoon), never to be seen again. When we left, with probably a couple hundred people, the crew did a careful headcount, but a couple of people showed up after they declared the count to be correct!<br /><br />The shapes, colors, and variety of corals are amazing. I had the feeling that I saw less fishlife than I had expected from movies and TV shows and what I remembered from a long-ago trip to Hawaii, but maybe such expectations are unrealistic. The photographers don’t always hit the right spot at the right time. I also wonder if a frequently occupied, noisy spot like the pontoon platform may deter the fish a bit (you're not allowed to feed them). Whatever, we had a great day in the sun and the sea.<br /><p>Here's an internet shot. We saw comparable scenes, but through a foggy snorkel mask looking down from water level, not in a professionally lighted scene at fish level. </p><p></p><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114316445732546290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFSsN-g5B2VqGojGALxAfus0ztiRGWaivH1ulzpznnTZggDIV01O-7Qs6px3GPCCTI33DJIf-6-1tqkTJXUxoU0kIalj6dSAq-pIT3X9RgU5AgfJEb-nRKK7EC4M2-J5C6u8YK5JuvKnk/s320/GrBarReef.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We stopped for dinner on our way back to Ellis Beach at a resort area called Palm Cove. The setting was like in the movies: second-floor open air restaurant, palm trees, fragrant air, the sound of waves hitting the shore, moon and stars over the ocean.<br /><br />This was a nice restaurant – you could tell by the way they stacked the food – which seems to be the fine food trend. In Fremantle my steak came on top of mashed potatoes and gravy, so when you cut into the steak you smeared the potatoes and gravy all over the plate! Elegant? Maybe I’m missing something.<br /><br />I don’t mean to be complaining, but Theroux says much of travel is dealing with things that don’t go right: our experience at this restaurant matched what we had encountered repeatedly, so maybe it’s an Aussie thing: When you’re through eating you have to make an effort to get your bill. The waitperson doesn’t bring it until asked and seems a little surprised by the request. Sometimes you have to go to the cash register. Sometimes the hostperson will bring it. Suggested tipping here is less generous than at home, even for me, so maybe there’s a connection. Or, maybe it's just a more Aussie/relaxed view of things. Just thought you’d like to know.<br /><br />Tomorrow it’s the Daintree River and my HS classmate, Dan Irby. Until then.<br /><br />Cheers,<br /><br />Rob </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-40867696793100081682007-09-24T05:04:00.000-07:002007-09-24T13:12:11.067-07:00Uluru<div><div>Sept. 19<br /><br />We arrived at Ayers Rock Airport in mid-afternoon, found our way to our cabin in the Ayers Rock Resort campground. It’s a whole new climate: desert clime, near 90F degrees. The pilot vectored in to his landing so as to give everybody a good view of Uluru (the Aborigine name, a.k.a. Ayers Rock -- the Aboriginal people now manage this area so the native place-names are more in use now), but the big event of evenings out here is sunset. We take the sunset tour along with about 2000 other folks. </div><br /><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113863537136215602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-c6aHj7Yvm3tExRxEgjlm4C0XWFT7tZqW6GXFwA3BKox2lwBdIgsY-B3QJ7ysz_iK-PR9eHaP_-Iu27rS-Vc7uPyKY7Uh5rh98JQuk068ynBicrm42qt5BBM3jKp-zDE9LgDNF8nVN4g/s320/DSC02594.JPG" border="0" /><br />I was here 16 years ago, and wanted to come back on this trip. Such an impressive sight. I bought a t-shirt with statistics: height: 1141 ft., circumference: 6 miles. Here are a few of my shots this evening.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113863537136215586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPqq8LQ-mLq3efnJHcDEKdY06G5G6Z1DJhe9oso7dKxEuiQeQd2CqrTkw_9Wypavsmf9e8VMSstdeFk90jCjxoqmERf0iLaI4NyYHkK9HbtY0qgR0tsoBaGhviKPKFtv3IgRttplg0Svw/s320/DSC02577.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113863541431182914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiRvnik9ztdV8hGUM5s3gkHlEohoHMH9BJ9uIUGXpPDL3SxxJY-Wgcap7JN52_-ZuRNO-qXcgSMVHUcF5SxWo237D_6SABSj6xfXo6ip6B1vfzmTE96V4UUYaDzE7iKtSbitg0tX_3CBs/s320/DSC02596.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />You can see better shots – more of a red glow, when atmospheric conditions are just right -- if you Google Uluru. (Because of limited internet access I’m not putting the links I usually do; you may have noticed. An exercise left for the reader.) Note that the layered sandstone that make up the rock run nearly perpendicular to the ground. During a period of violent upheaval this chunk of ancient seabed was tilted almost straight up. Eons of erosion uncovered what we now see as Uluru.<br /><br />The next morning we take a helicopter flight over the area, flying by both Uluru and the nearby Kata Tjuta (Olga Mountains). And more. The third passenger on the trip is a researcher interested in getting a picture that shows Uluru, Kata Tjuta, and a far-off Mount Connor (perhaps not spelled correctly; I can’t find it on my map). They lie on a straight line and appear to be the remnants of an E-W mountain range through the center of Australia. We didn’t quite get the gist of his research objective, but it seemed to be the linkage of the Aboriginal theological beliefs with this mountain range. The continent is centered here and so are their beliefs. I think he wanted to generalize this observation to other religions. Brings to mind an earlier conversation about PhDs. </div><br /><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113864567928366674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_eL52o_SdVoCgCd6BtL7NJwVO0d-8LNmSbwSpufJI8mGZrDxX_6EYvApye-xni818kZE5cpdgvsk5xdtP288eXbnyruGwFfzcR3wxq7rHEJ_PKggoGUHatAk-O2EeNkC4TmTo1QfjSeU/s320/DSC02601.JPG" border="0" /><br />To get the desired alignment, Chris, our helicopter pilot, a pleasant young man from Scotland – he’d been here in this job two years -- took us to the west of the Olgas – a bonus ride of about 10 mins. -- so we could see the lineup of the Olgas, Uluru, and far off in the haze, mountain number 3. Didn’t quite have the visual effect our companion wanted, but it gave us some good sun angles for pictures of Kata Tjuta.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113864572223333986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmycUpLjpWnyPj-qs8THPDBZ1SQjBSq4AyLQUxV44F71KT4BiKla_sOulIhrmgrpTO1AdLvLCidiQHjg0QiczZxe1JxtwOnM7OkLQ_wMblwyKmPAAIsJ69QSeZC_r2kD-VBGck-fPj_Fo/s320/DSC02610.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />KT is a collection of 30-some sandstone domes, ranging up to quite a bit higher than Uluru. You can imagine this collection as a bunch of temples or tombs of minor gods progressing up to the major one(s).<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113864572223334002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibgzbnAgQ8pC6PK6l7u7s2-53pPufsjU3mdoeILxoE4Ozs3joJXt1DN_nbHGzimiukxYTOLLIGDbgZOr5Vinfd1-jmzAfp3NPPdORCI6L6qutzS5RSEMfq_qpOQoGSH2SFNT88881SSjM/s320/DSC02620.JPG" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113865349612414610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUwpC9sOm6btpfZnsbD2En4wu0YAw50ZN4odvFDrKe2lXfbYmfXj-4DhA7JCkd9NDaFI4LELtQvHWYMQxrH9OwoAgorwyuEeSjKPersICDI3sPWig3DODeKz99e9vds3L-vqyCSL1xvdY/s320/DSC02621.JPG" border="0" /><br />Wait, there’s more. We were in a four-passenger helicopter, shown below. The good doctor’s wife was scheduled to take the trip but had to cancel because of illness. If she had come along we would have had to take a larger chopper, but one with less visibility for photography.<br /><br />One more bonus: There were a couple of the Australian Air Force’s Hawk fighter jets on the runway when we took off. Chris told us they had been there for five or six days awaiting repair. We heard tower communication indicating the Hawks were ready to fly. Well, they took off just as we were descending, then came back around and screamed over the runway at 250 ft. just as we set down. Gave us front row seats. All in all, a thrilling morning, and only nine o’clock.<br /><br /><br />On the way back Chris said we should look for wild camels, but know that they are hard to see because of their camel-flage.<br /><br />The rest of our morning was a little more mundane: we did some laundry, e-mail, phone calls, and packing. I wrote Susie while the laundry was going saying, Where’s a bloke’s mate when y’ really needs ‘er? (JUST KIDDING, I said, really. Having a great time but looking forward to home, too.)<br /><br />Left Ayers Rock in mid-afternoon, bound for Cairns – the Great Barrier Reef and the Daintree River with Tonkawa’s other famous son, Dan Irby.<br /><br />Cheers,<br /><br />Rob</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-79791612897893746632007-09-24T04:44:00.000-07:002007-09-24T05:04:06.006-07:00SW Australia - 3<div>Sept. 18<br /><br />Morning – some quality phone and internet time in Margaret River. At the visitor center we asked advice on winery tours – we’re interested in seeing the technology, not so much the tasting room. The person there suggested the Leeuwin Winery.<br /><br />This is a historic winery. Along about 1967 some California wine bigshot was looking for a place to start growing grapes and made an offer to a cattle rancher near MR. Rancher was savvy enough to find out who this guy was and figure, hmm, there must be money in grapes, so he didn’t sell, but started his own vineyard and wine production. The rest is history. There must be 50+ vineyards in the region.<br /><br />We got to the Leeuwin Winery, coincidentally named after the cape whose lighthouse we'd toured, and the chap on the desk asked if we’d like to take the eleven o’clock tour. As it was ten to, we said sure and congratulated ourselves on lucky timing. Well, we were the only two on the tour. A little earlier and I’m sure we could have gotten the 10:30 tour.<br /><br />This place is more than just a winery. It’s a site of big-name concerts on the lawn, pictured here with the adjacent restaurant. </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113738806990972402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmMWOoqauknmhUhe2qpasUEwX7xtdj-o-Mq_hNSnO3gY3jdO2outI3hJYm2wezWc56KQYtLv_f4ZZ8fkYmTy5fzUDC5eGMNOks8vpDImS6s5H49cDPqS6YwDPvaaZD4CfF-cbf5QCD_c/s320/DSC02576.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />Also, each year Aussie artists are commissioned to produce paintings which are then used in wine labels. Several of the paintings are shown in a basement, that is, wine cellar, gallery. <br /><br />Well, we got done with the tour, having asked a lot of questions, then each had a sip of one wine, nodded approvingly, just so our guide wouldn’t be too disappointed and headed north to Fremantle, a seaside town near Perth. An America’s Cup yacht race was held here when Australia hosted a challenge.<br /><br />We got to Freo, as they call it, in late afternoon. We go downtown looking for a “torchlight tour” of historic Fremantle, find where it takes place, unfortunately, though, not on Tuesdays.<br /><br />We split a kangaroo dinner and a ribeye steak dinner. Kangaroo is OK, but you wouldn’t “misteak” it for beef. Too late for pictures, though. You can go Google.<br /><br />Next morning, up early for a drive across the S side of Perth at morning rush time. Goes OK, though, as often seems to be the case, it was hard to find a place to gas up near the rental agency. We had allowed plenty of time, so no reason to worry about making our flight. Until …<br /><br />We wait fully 45 mins. while the one clerk in the office processes one customer. Luckily, we still had adequate time to catch our plane. Don’t know what would have happened if we’d been pressed for time.<br /><br />So, that's it for SW Australia. Had a good time, saw lots, avoided driving mishaps, and managed to squeeze into the upper bunk four times. Here's a farewell shot of Perth, shot earlier in the week.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113738811285939714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibOVi8ajoFjOdpZdfMwBG5dtOYeDyxnP5v3Nf5XmGulhBtvifdX9CpLZWiTsaN3lXpbipO7B3iw25dyIRXJXNMH7BR0dnsTAtMuAkQ_ip4_GFzom62c75N-_5WB2hqECpeKrfJtYxx9kU/s320/DSC02467.JPG" border="0" />Cheers,<br /><br />RobUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-29056457146744047282007-09-24T04:21:00.000-07:002007-09-24T04:43:27.738-07:00SW Australia - 2Monday, Sept. 17<br /><br />Our campground in Denmark is on the Wilson Inlet. Here’s a morning picture. (One thing I should note now so I don’t forget it is that on all four nights in campgrounds we found cheerful, chipper folks on the registration desk.)<br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113730023782851906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV0UiE672Aq-2n1F6nVXjUbOiVERLCO_jZF9RJh3L_dhl7AOxgZOGULWCLpA62oXjKNumoXceZFEcC3Dqxjw8xLOdn8yObEQSzLSDQrc4m7eD9PnXki6rNRVI2RQ7SuG6MDlJ8rKSmYik/s320/DSC02517.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />In the morning we drive west to the Walpole Normalup National Park, home to the Tree-Top Walk. All along Dick’s been scouting for wildlife. He thought he saw a kangaroo, but by the time we could park on the shoulder and walk back, it was gone, if indeed that’s what it was. A school-bus driver passing by and stopped to see if we needed help. Said he thought maybe we had hit a kangaroo, so we were in their territory.<br /><br />Another thing we’ve been looking for is the Southern Cross – the star formation that ocean navigators use south of the equator. Couldn’t find it before turning in, but when I got up about 3am for relief I think I saw it. Didn’t have my glasses on so can’t be sure. Should have gotten Dick up to confirm the sighting.<br /><br />At any rate, we got to the National Park before the gates opened so we went exploring down a side road, looking for ‘roos. Here’s the only one we found. Later in the day we saw two road-kill ‘roos, but so far that’s it.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113730028077819218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ODUpivLUbgMjOYQpuC3U-Vg7u-Kfcn_Nwb2ZLPUED58KE55nHuyTJ-4R7L11949SsVJcrz_8lBA29OxZpAUaGkE3o_CDhy-ykZfvsC0FGN4rJTX3LPqzsAI9Ujn5Id5ZWMlQTNIFVPo/s320/DSC02521.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />Roadside signs promised kangaroos next 20 km, but it never happened.<br /><br />Here are some pictures of and from the Tree Top Walk. It was a gray sky day with occasional sprinkles. The walkway's highest point is 130 ft. above the forest floor – like being on top of a 13-floor building. The walkway is designed to sway with the breeze, like the treetops. Walkways also are quite springy.<br /><br />The preservation reason behind the walk is that people walking on the forest floor compact the earth and this damages the big trees’ roots and ability to absorb nutrients. So, for the sake of the trees and as an attraction they put people up in the treetops. Makes it easier on your neck, too.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113730990150493538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0AYiFbl-9e941o2GX4oITmovOoLmIznx_V9LAniG72ickjlBQeJXr8cYcRF_jAqUgE2gzQKvHehqaBNbYMopreaEaRZaLcw-qD1EBKSs5rTgU33j4RaQ_2cYPMZCqx7tUaF8TSCV3pUw/s320/DSC02532.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />The big trees are different versions of what they call a “tingle tree.” They’re varieties of eucalyptus trees – there must be dozens of varieties in Australia. The biggest is called a Karri tree. It looks like the big Kauri trees we saw in New Zealand – no doubt related -- but I recall the NZ trees as being larger.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113730998740428162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinh9QCN-I-OzfxypU1QZeI5kvZsnyBs_csWQOSleJeQ2-IIN8Gt6Xwh6ZjFIxFST0uxnLlT6zAkippU2CtWk9UgxUzNrHK2vrEqmRYF93MkRvjjkQ1pWvJyhsWk__QZbjy0Z1u_cmXuGw/s320/DSC02544.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />The Tree Top Walk was the main attraction that drew us to this part of the country and we were greatly impressed. Somebody should build one in the USA. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Adjacent to the Walk is another big tree area that you do walk through.</div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113733567130871234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhivixaKxsjNp44cDJLhg8nNjsXE004TnOT9BmWP6xRQlXtb3TDYBkPBKc-Uc-43XI6A5CPsKev-aKHmOt5HqkouueXxJ6KaE16rgZIavU_ef5xQOFWZmE8Z8GZ9_ZpUgdnVzae8PEbCwc/s320/DSC02558.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>We spent the afternoon driving NW through a lot of forested land and some farmland headed for Margaret River, the center of a region known for wine-making. On the way we stopped at the Cape Leeuwin Lighthouse. The cape is named for a Dutch sailor thought to be the first European in the area – the SW corner of Australia. Looking south, the Indian Ocean is on the right and the Southern Ocean is ahead and to the left. It’s hard to see the dividing line, though.<br /></div><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113732824101529010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGzR1ptfhoL5H3EcBsIzNOQY0cq_I2q-iVoWIsg256JAdm_gnozxWoQBoTaNgd6aaifE2-zPXiSw90YlajFhX20Ogcc2NG7KlksIsqazSzmEzdUz-kI_szcq4bFZgZtNTW72w0f1dKs0w/s320/DSC02565.JPG" border="0" /><br />Here are lighthouse pictures: inside (177 steps; the lighthouse keepers would carry two large buckets of kerosene up these stairs, sidestepping, once a week).<br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113731947928200610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZP4ExGqZodNwSKM7Yt3aXGjy90rddEZccJ8tKacW_w3pfvakOrgrkMjVN_Yaj4rc88naAsSIXP3ttIsKr5K2HKqV_eVAYjleQSrMD-NdOAPv83wUcvgbhO2jQazLaQat9DRBt59Po_Ro/s320/DSC02571.JPG" border="0" /></div><br /><div>and outside:</div><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113731943633233298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXDe_AERluOpBrURd4vTCIOc9ydGq-C0c43MXSQvFTVO89kSnVhMewHqqbf5kLNxOga1mlXj1kY90ZR4R7tW_Q8wKDOyiQ1n3VKts3pWsfHsbM0FYBoDU3FUS6eHu2tWbkm4KKabWqIaM/s320/DSC02564.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />Had a very interesting and enthusiastic guide. Last tour of the day and he gave us extra time and info. In the early 1800s England started three settlements in SW Australia – Albany, Augusta (just above Cape Leeuwin), and Perth. This enabled them to claim the whole continent for the Queen (or King as the case may be). I’m conjecturing, but I think having just lost the US colonies, England had the resources available, and motivation, to colonize elsewhere. I mean, they had Canada and not much else, so it’s easy to see why Australia was important to them – Rule, Brittania -- and, ultimately, not just as a dumping ground for prisoners.<br /><br />Our guide told us that if France had taken this part of Australia it would just have meant getting good wine sooner – a reference to the Margaret River region which has boomed here only over the last 40 years and which is our evening's destination.<br /><br />We got to Margaret River after dark, spent a lot of time searching for a caravan park – we would follow arrows, but not find a park – and finally found one – another nice owner, I believe, who had just been in MR a few weeks. She pointed us to a spaghetti house for a good dinner.<br /><br />Cheers,<br /><br />Rob </div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-48350941612670898322007-09-24T03:55:00.000-07:002007-09-24T04:21:03.750-07:00SW Australia - 1<div><div><div><div>September 15<br /><br />Got to Perth soon after breakfast, Saturday. Gathered our bags, said our goodbyes, and boarded a tour bus. We had also arranged for the bus to deliver us to the Britz campervan rental after the tour.<br /><br />Cold, windy day in Perth. Bus driver said they’re predicting a week of more of the same. Hope not. As we drove around city, bus driver primarily pointed out fast-rising real estate prices – these people bought for $400,000, sold a year later for $900,000. That sort of thing. Perth is booming; more jobs than they have people.<br /><br />The only place we got out of the bus was King’s Park, very large park adjoining downtown Perth. Got a couple wildflower shots in case we strike out later (which we mostly did -- a few weeks early for the part of west Oz we went to).<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113723435303019698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpXb0pjNkIaRrlDvh2VN64jtRl9kKPYv5nekk7IWvAYlkB24MPASgErfw1cBHDI-IEZBIgzEj8QtETNDJXnYdtSpVzMHw_7D6XsEvXIRCNaoUrchJUgO98PY0rKd_Lu5Hd70RplD3gTZc/s320/DSC02473.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113723431008052386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfVNx2g8tJa4URZHu60mv8SdP-WRRU5Kj_RWfTTcowSdwUAt6kn1oOSh8JO-Y-L8qo24yyREdm1C1-zZ4CgCGeJAmTN0SwHw3-UlA4Q4HoM1kuN0T7Nh7CzI4eBcYgWarPpI6uvChTAHY/s320/DSC02472.JPG" border="0" /><br />Got to the campervan rental place and got signed in and checked out by about 230pm. Fortunately, for getting accustomed to driving on the left, we were on edge of town and had two easy left turns to get on the road toward Albany, our S coast destination, about 250 miles away. Four lanes to start out with. I got in the left lane and stayed in it until we stopped for lunch. Spotted a Subway in a shopping Center. Made a right turn into parking lot OK, but in wandering around to find a place to park managed to hit two curbs with left rear tire.<br /><br />On the highway I sort of drove by feel. You/I have a tendency to drive too far to the left when the steering wheel is on the right, so, too frequently, I’d drift left onto the rumble strips adjacent to the left shoulder. Particularly when meeting vehicles on a fairly narrow road. Never caused Dick to scream, however, (as I did when Susie took a practice drive down a country road in New Zealand) so it could have been worse.<br /><br />After 150 miles or so, it was getting dark, so we decided to stop at “caravan park” in a little country town called Kojonup. A lot of place names in this area end in “up.” Need to lookup why. Made a grocery run to the local Cal-Tex service station and mini-mart, had dinner at a hamburger joint called the Hard Work Café, and got the camper set up for sleeping. Had a momentary panic because we couldn’t find electrical outlet at first, but night went well.<br /><br /><br />Next morning, blessed by clear skies, we drove on to Albany (pronounced OWL-bun-nee). Stopped for pictures of sheep pastures and canola fields – yellow flowers at this stage. Need to find out about canola farming, because it’s big here. A sign entering the shire(county) claimed one million sheep for the region.<br /></div></div><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113725020145951954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqRNAws89znYLKY0F3XISmmVxPz8HYlXRURPHZmyw9Co6dx4RFj8TzG9ioKiL-B1TEL17pgwPRzCWBvCRi0NcWa62j7s9fBUwpLu0yoEr4rb3mXwbo8EhD3zD98gTZQOuAdnk8T_KrZJI/s320/DSC02479.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113725020145951970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5lvA2E1ZegArChUDUTCs4Qq1dqcRrSs4Dcq_fXkwMFzd2o9mDamL3HRYjmyDJXjzvtmnzp7usgj28lpAN15ZOSbr9nu6dAPMvQnbRRGbzihv4wRlSmomU3zJU27bDRWelOKVg2xcR3P4/s320/DSC02475.JPG" border="0" />In Albany we spent some frustrating time on the internet: couldn’t do a reply or forward with e-mail; couldn’t do any blog-posting because the Blogger website came up in Chinese and I couldn’t find the way to change it. Assuaged the hurt, though, with a nice fishandchips lunch.<br /><br />Albany is historically important because in 1826 the governor of New South Wales – Sydney and its surroundings – sent a ship over there to claim the region and hence the whole continent for England – keeping the pesky French out. The ship that landed there, the Amity, has been restored and is available for touring. A load of convicts settled here to launch the occupation.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113725900614247666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizzQ3RrgpiefkOzanHmEA2OfOEheVhtKx2HSHVgAGmCSExid2H1pc-l-7wcADywekic-a9deBFvrNac5wepPTnthzK4-LqWhRxHV3HWg8a1KCFVVnO_gw-vkX0d8bkAh4PEmtK0g5zba8/s320/DSC02485.JPG" border="0" /></div><div>A long arm of land extends south of Albany and we drove out there to see the rugged coast and the wave action on it. Very awesome!<br /></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113725900614247682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivJBgq3ms6-1ppvSH6B8lLwwbF7ntf0p6Zs6TojreOyDum8yGvssYxVMoM0dJF8BIgy8x54khJC4UbZNHGoxFRbjBVDrELHvnpIA5XYzueyRTr7C5pyq-Vgr9Xriw1YmpzH9TZ-GYohDE/s320/DSC02499.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />Now you see him. Now you don’t.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHHQWglhVECISkVG6xlf_6rmnLHR6KXZ6mAAG2wO0_fKnjzzxMgdv2cwBm06Blc70qNzzTRUWtaxjK8XmF3hSC7scJF-iIvJb1NlHDjqGqVLJw6zUT95ipLh555Jr8jvIEh5fhmUimQUQ/s1600-h/DSC02492.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113726544859342098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHHQWglhVECISkVG6xlf_6rmnLHR6KXZ6mAAG2wO0_fKnjzzxMgdv2cwBm06Blc70qNzzTRUWtaxjK8XmF3hSC7scJF-iIvJb1NlHDjqGqVLJw6zUT95ipLh555Jr8jvIEh5fhmUimQUQ/s200/DSC02492.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4M5msOniGvi4ek8Dbjw6clarUVegIcOXiBNs4D0iEoK_dttBwCEzM3oOG5Gb34yOn2Zqkxu9ojtsJCJRz8JMBAqP0GbEvX9MJ2TGCdUKqGaYfUMk6_MBu0v_owokEfsKcIy1NzZMdYSI/s1600-h/DSC02493.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113726716658033954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4M5msOniGvi4ek8Dbjw6clarUVegIcOXiBNs4D0iEoK_dttBwCEzM3oOG5Gb34yOn2Zqkxu9ojtsJCJRz8JMBAqP0GbEvX9MJ2TGCdUKqGaYfUMk6_MBu0v_owokEfsKcIy1NzZMdYSI/s200/DSC02493.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Another stop was Whale World, a whaling station converted into a museum. The Albany Whaling Station was Australia’s last, closing in 1978. Our guide told us, though, and this was surprising to me, that whale-watching is a bigger business than whale-killing and processing ever was.<br /><br /><br />Getting to be late afternoon, now; we drove west to the next town, Denmark, found a caravan park (see below), had dinner, and called it a day. It was one of the best dinners I’ve had on the trip. Chef was grilling on the barbie. Pick your meat and he’d fix it. It wasn’t on the menu, but when I requested it he did me some shrimp on the barbie. Outstanding. Dick chose a seafood platter that had a large helping of squid – like chewing a bicycle inner tube.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113724358720988354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjdYX2vENURwn9qph7oPRta1farplny6LOHRsg8GMoRv54Iob6LNq73QZZB7F8UNPRLcEjmxam_VOklOGmOQ1ltw8voyGMvDCurS3F699Au4O24Gt2PcPlA7C_46GqdiC-UDKI4sTzt54/s320/DSC02519.JPG" border="0" />Tomorrow the big trees and forest walk in the sky.<br /><br />Cheers,<br /><br />Rob </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-29017951362729782622007-09-24T03:50:00.000-07:002007-09-24T03:55:44.335-07:00Maureen & Justin<div>Friday, Sept. 14, I went down to the lounge car to read. Nice lady sits down by me. Out of all the lounge cars in all the trains in all the world, she picked mine. Says her name is Maureen, from Sydney. I say, Hello, Maureen. That’s a nice name. We talk.<br /><br />Turns out she spent 13 years in the US, teaching in the South Bronx (after a teaching career in Australia – went to NY on a lark). At age 70 she came back to Sydney in 1999 because she’d always planned to retire there. Besides, the only way to retire in New York is to have money, which she didn’t.<br /><br />In NY she says she taught English and History to adults who had to have these courses in able to stay on Social Security. This requirement is news to me, but I didn’t question her about it. She might have meant citizenship requirements.<br /><br />Aussie authors she likes? The poets, like Banjo Patterson. They understood what it meant to be Australian. They told the stories.<br /><br />Australia is losing its character. What’s that? I ask. “Mateship,” is her answer. We’ve lost our mateship. This means the unquestioning willingness displayed by bush-people to help anyone who needs help, whenever, whatever the circumstances, rich or poor, black or white. Knowing you could rely on your mates was the difference between survival or not.<br /><br />In Australia, did she teach Australian history? Oh, No. Nobody teaches Aussie history and it’s a shame. They teach English history. They seemed embarrassed to teach about the convicts who were forcibly settled in Australia. Those convicts did marvelous things. An example: Sydney Hospital was built by convicts. They were paid in rum, so it’s called the Rum Hospital. (By the by, Adelaide is an exception – not settled by convicts.)<br /><br />We got off on the topic of remembering people’s names. She had a tough time remembering people she’s met on the train. I’m no better. We decided it’s rude to be introduced to someone and then not be able to call them by name a little later. We rehearsed the names of people she had met and that I could identify.<br /><br />Time zones were a problem. Sydney is on Eastern time. Adelaide is on Central time, which is one-half hour earlier. Western Australia is on Western time, another hour and a half earlier! The train, however, keeps its own clock – doesn’t change time at a border crossing, but makes a change in conjunction with a particular stop. So, today’s dinner time and our subsequent time for stopping in Kalgoorlie were confusing. Either we were having an unusually early dinner or a late stop at Kalgoorlie. I never did come up with a good explanation.<br /><br />At dinner a little later I sat with Maureen, Don (from Calgary), and Justin – a young man who got on in Adelaide. He is a lawyer in Perth, was returning from a holiday trip to the US and UK, had bought a car in Adelaide, and was shipping it to Perth via the IndianPacific. So, that’s why he was on the train. He hadn’t enjoyed his first 24 hrs. – for one thing he was a smoker and you can’t smoke on the train. Two stops a day are not enough. But, he entertained us greatly with his story.<br /><br />His home is the UK where he got a law degree and went to work in a bank. One day, he said, This is boring, and he quit. Found a job as a policeman in Queensland, Australia – NE corner of the country. Subsequently applied and got a lawyer job in the district prosecutor’s office, then did the same when he saw similar job advertised in Perth. It’s a formal court system here – he wears a wig in court.<br /><br />Maureen told Justin he was too angelic to be a lawyer. He said that helps him with witnesses and juries.<br /><br />Somehow the topic of boring jobs led him to tell of a friend who did a PhD thesis on grain transportation in ancient Egypt. Justin asked him what he learned. Answer: They used donkeys. That’s it! Two years of work and it comes down to this.<br /><br />Also learned from Don at dinner that his son plays underwater hockey. Never heard of it – have you? Invented in Canada, no doubt. They actually have international tournaments and he’s on a team in Perth.<br /><br />Here’s an end-of-the-trip of Maureen and Dick.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113722408805835922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjR8jvxoLiLPCj6SJtZ5FiRxXSWBvXmlZW-LjWrHplU08vQTN3zU58plQOBKo_CR5RLjPoyKor1uspfyzpmqjGRod-lwlmVza6PasIGeewrjpJttxsSzzqifqA026zoTGmxB1ndcV1D5o/s320/DSC02464.JPG" border="0" /><br />Cheers,<br /><br />Rob </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-18758933831346870262007-09-24T03:46:00.000-07:002007-09-24T03:50:16.897-07:00Pudd'nhead Wilson<em>PuddnHead Wilson</em><br /><br />First book on my Paul Theroux reading list is <em>Pudd’nhead Wils</em>on, by Mark Twain. I read it on the train. A real gem; sorry I’ve just now read it; glad I was pointed to it.<br /><br />I won’t spoil things by telling you as much of the plot as the author of the Introduction did (once again I pledge never again to read an Introduction until I have to), but here’s the basics: Two baby boys are born into the same household at about the same time. They look very much alike, but one has 1/32 “Negro” blood and is therefore a slave; the other is (fully) white. They are both raised by the same woman – nanny for one, mother of the other – and she’s the only one that can tell them apart. You can see the possibilities.<br /><br />Twain tells the story with humor and sarcasm, exposing some of mankind’s lowest and highest characteristics. There’s slapstick comedy and courtroom drama. Many twists and turns like a drawing-room comedy. All in 139 paperback pages.<br /><br />Pudd’nhead gets his name as follows (if you don’t want to know, scroll down somewhere now): He comes to Dawson’s Landing, on the Mississippi below St. Louis, to establish a law practice. On his first day in town, while meeting with some residents, he hears a dog barking in a disagreeable way and says, “I wish I owned half of that dog.” Why? “Because I would kill my half.” This makes no sense to the townspeople and he is promptly labeled a fool, a perfect jackass, and dubbed Pudd’nhead.<br /><br />Wilson is writing a calendar-based almanac of wise and witty sayings and Twain introduces each chapter with one or more. Here’s my favorite:<br /><br />July 4. Statistics show that we lose more fools on this day than on all the other days of the year put together. This proves, by the number left in stock, that one Fourth of July per year is now inadequate, the country has grown so.<br /><br />More seriously:<br /><br />Let us endeavor so to live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry.<br /><br /><em>Pudd’nhead</em> was published in 1894, about a decade after Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn were published. Like those books, Twain creatively writes “slave dialect” that is entertaining to read and I presume accurate. An example:<br /><br />“De angels is gwine to’mire you jest as much as dey does yo mammy. Ain’t gwine to have ‘em puttin’ dey han’s up ‘fo dey eyes en sayin’ to David en Goliah en dem yuther prophets, ‘Dat chile is dress’ too delicate fo’ dis place.”<br /><br />Anyhow, great book, fun read.<br /><br />Cheers,<br /><br />RobUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-60027503295707973462007-09-17T18:35:00.000-07:002007-09-17T18:50:20.625-07:00IndianPacific - 3<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Friday, Sept. 14<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>Much of today is to be spent crossing the “nullarbor”(treeless plain, pronounced NULL-uh-ber) featuring nearly 300 miles of perfectly straight track.<span style=""> </span>Before that, I thought I’d tell you about our accommodations.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">The single sleeper-cabins are wedge-shaped, successive pairs of cabins being mirror images – wide ends abutting, narrow ends abutting. There are two rows of cabins, offset so the wide ends of the wedges on one side are opposite the narrow ends on the other.<span style=""> </span>The car has 18 cabins and two toilets at one end, two showers at the other.<span style=""> </span>With this layout, the center hallway undulates like a snake, or a sine-wave, depending on your preferred image.<span style=""> </span>Hadn’t ever seen that in the movies – where my train knowledge comes from.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>The double cabins in other cars are rectangular, along only one side of the car, and the aisle squeezes along one side.<span style=""> </span>This is the layout I’ve seen in train-movie comedies or murder mysteries as characters careen or sneak in and out of various compartments.<span style=""> </span>I can’t recall the movie, but I remember Cary Grant landing in some lovely lady’s cabin and arms in such circumstances.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>The wide end of a cabin includes a sink/vanity; the narrow one has a six-inch wide closet.<span style=""> </span>There’s a cushioned chair, a fold-down writing table, and a footstool all along the outside wall.<span style=""> </span>All this folds out of the way when the bed is folded down out of the wall by the “staff.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>At mealtimes – four “bachelors” have gravitated to sit together: Don, from Calgary; Dennis, from Sydney; Dick, and I.<span style=""> </span>Almost everybody else is husband-wife couples, mostly pensioner age plus some.<span style=""> </span>Dennis, who runs a limo service in Sydney and is somewhat younger than the other three of us, is riding the train to Perth to see his sister. This is the second time he has taken the train to visit her.<span style=""> </span>Why? we ask.<span style=""> </span>Says he’s hoping to find romance.<span style=""> </span>Not much chance in the Gold Kangaroo class.<span style=""> </span>Maybe he should try coach next time!<span style=""> </span>Anyhow, Dennis is helpful in explaining Australia to us.<span style=""> </span>For example, he says Australia is the only country whose coat of arms features two animals used for food – kangaroos and emus.<span style=""> </span>He’s also a vegemite guru.<span style=""> </span>We try to get Dick to put some on his toast, but we’ve said enough bad things about it, that there’s no way.<span style=""> </span>Dennis said he quit eating vegemite when they sold out to Kraft.<span style=""> </span>No longer an Aussie product – he’s boycotting.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Don, from Canada, not to be confused with Don from Sydney, is on his way to Perth to visit his son.<span style=""> </span>As we did, he spent a few days in Sydney and chose the train to cross the country.<span style=""> </span>From Perth, he, his son, and his son’s girlfriend are going to explore some of the SW coast as are we.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">OK, back to the scenery.<span style=""> </span>Here’s what the nullarbor looks like. That's a RR maintenance road along the track in the foreground.<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBQ_pkX-JfXVJQcseRuDs-kYXQGHatADICpg0LVOFqjfWZXLwXEGE6owrupmj8JBVBgjJtTaeFvUPma7JxiZq0XxkHUMJtK5P9oBWQCD6bJTjon36xFuGDO-sBgzGVEyPt0qXPOPygRA/s1600-h/DSC02443.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBQ_pkX-JfXVJQcseRuDs-kYXQGHatADICpg0LVOFqjfWZXLwXEGE6owrupmj8JBVBgjJtTaeFvUPma7JxiZq0XxkHUMJtK5P9oBWQCD6bJTjon36xFuGDO-sBgzGVEyPt0qXPOPygRA/s320/DSC02443.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111352951084495474" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Our stop in the morning is at Cook.<span style=""> </span>Cook once featured a school and a hospital, but now is a ghost town with a population of two people – a caretaker and his wife.<span style=""> </span>This is a stop for “watering up” the train and for a crew change.<span style=""> </span>Two new “drivers” get on; two get off and catch the next train which is, or will take them to, their next assignment.<span style=""> </span>I take it there are accommodations for waiting crews – they don’t sit by the track with their bags.</span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnIZtrKc9OdHh6koxK9zTV7RmktDcBM-ssoI8o_A-sofMmbVP913kgEKma_jGbKQ-_-reVomtU3dQUR9isptN4B4VhdzM2wI6Tz-Q3oD1xFaNy4JB59UCkyYbMW_DH4O7W_P42XxpC99Y/s1600-h/DSC02461.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnIZtrKc9OdHh6koxK9zTV7RmktDcBM-ssoI8o_A-sofMmbVP913kgEKma_jGbKQ-_-reVomtU3dQUR9isptN4B4VhdzM2wI6Tz-Q3oD1xFaNy4JB59UCkyYbMW_DH4O7W_P42XxpC99Y/s320/DSC02461.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111354282524357314" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHZEEdUH66j97-36urJhLBnMneIu86tucXa5QlTxAUyqI69L5LV2iMC97djFC4sgFfD9rrBo9Sdsot5nWD3B_ladBfZD0G8SF1TjFgITEC0Ywx8-wXPgcWAjkvBl7Mwfsnx_8wWTFBGiE/s1600-h/DSC02454.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHZEEdUH66j97-36urJhLBnMneIu86tucXa5QlTxAUyqI69L5LV2iMC97djFC4sgFfD9rrBo9Sdsot5nWD3B_ladBfZD0G8SF1TjFgITEC0Ywx8-wXPgcWAjkvBl7Mwfsnx_8wWTFBGiE/s320/DSC02454.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111354282524357298" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-WjW7bd4DjLhFX09o9fxmjq4XoQ5RLrCWVRnaZA4bLaMSkwY13NEpj8kX8upbFVV8VX_GqUOt7yNkodKxaHNfJciLpOdq9tUBmZ_XnlbZjWfH1ksmxdXzlX4_keJok0v4Jw-cCIHgOzs/s1600-h/DSC02458.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-WjW7bd4DjLhFX09o9fxmjq4XoQ5RLrCWVRnaZA4bLaMSkwY13NEpj8kX8upbFVV8VX_GqUOt7yNkodKxaHNfJciLpOdq9tUBmZ_XnlbZjWfH1ksmxdXzlX4_keJok0v4Jw-cCIHgOzs/s320/DSC02458.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111352972559332002" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsv-e35fvdlcmaPYTop7X8KkdgQ4uM44-7Ix0thfL0HbT2nhHauRicYUe3lXKeziq5FPYcFf0AW9graS-vMsu_IAzG3slVCUmH46XKsvIS0kfSs8qSChrNNW9cExUxe6WwwPKh877mGDg/s1600-h/DSC02450.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsv-e35fvdlcmaPYTop7X8KkdgQ4uM44-7Ix0thfL0HbT2nhHauRicYUe3lXKeziq5FPYcFf0AW9graS-vMsu_IAzG3slVCUmH46XKsvIS0kfSs8qSChrNNW9cExUxe6WwwPKh877mGDg/s320/DSC02450.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111352968264364690" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">A fellow passenger and I took each other's pictures by the engine.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">At Cook, we’re near the midpoint of 477 kms (almost 300 miles) of straight track – the world’s longest.<span style=""> </span>This is what we came to see!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUmStlhH5o6ZM6HGDqnjlNpoXZXLLjpTMuLZHWFU4FGT3lPH5pk819j_Q1TD5DTw0SBe83vziOQgl5uAi4n1GzLBy_F6bJoFa0m8bsymuMShiJtrOn7D0D0oYa3PyZrWM355G6h5RTW_Q/s1600-h/DSC02446.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUmStlhH5o6ZM6HGDqnjlNpoXZXLLjpTMuLZHWFU4FGT3lPH5pk819j_Q1TD5DTw0SBe83vziOQgl5uAi4n1GzLBy_F6bJoFa0m8bsymuMShiJtrOn7D0D0oYa3PyZrWM355G6h5RTW_Q/s320/DSC02446.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111352963969397378" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBQ_pkX-JfXVJQcseRuDs-kYXQGHatADICpg0LVOFqjfWZXLwXEGE6owrupmj8JBVBgjJtTaeFvUPma7JxiZq0XxkHUMJtK5P9oBWQCD6bJTjon36xFuGDO-sBgzGVEyPt0qXPOPygRA/s1600-h/DSC02443.JPG"><br /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Two or three hours after we leave Cook we leave the nullarbor.<span style=""> </span>Here’s a picture of that.<span style=""> </span>Oh, wait.<span style=""> </span>That’s the same as the picture above.<span style=""> </span>Close enough, though.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBQ_pkX-JfXVJQcseRuDs-kYXQGHatADICpg0LVOFqjfWZXLwXEGE6owrupmj8JBVBgjJtTaeFvUPma7JxiZq0XxkHUMJtK5P9oBWQCD6bJTjon36xFuGDO-sBgzGVEyPt0qXPOPygRA/s1600-h/DSC02443.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBQ_pkX-JfXVJQcseRuDs-kYXQGHatADICpg0LVOFqjfWZXLwXEGE6owrupmj8JBVBgjJtTaeFvUPma7JxiZq0XxkHUMJtK5P9oBWQCD6bJTjon36xFuGDO-sBgzGVEyPt0qXPOPygRA/s320/DSC02443.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111352951084495474" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">We’ll be in Kalgoorlie this evening for our next stop.<span style=""> </span>Hope to get internet access there and post some of information the world is waiting for.<span style=""> </span>I know people at home are anxiously checking their computers, waiting for word from the Reinert/Easterling expedition, like waiting for Lindbergh’s radio signal.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">In Kalgoorlie we take a bus tour by dark to see the huge pit gold mine, houses, government buildings, and businesses.<span style=""> </span>After that Dick and I walk back to one of the pubs that we’ve been told has internet.<span style=""> </span>It does, but we need change to operate it.<span style=""> </span>Trouble is, the bar is crammed with people watching a football playoff game (Australian rules).<span style=""> </span>Can’t get up to the bar to get change and we’re running out of time (toot, toot! not really) so we’re not successful.<span style=""> </span>I do manage to call Susie to let her know where we are.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Tomorrow it’s Perth where we’ll pick up a camper van and head south, driving on the wrong side of the road.<span style=""> </span>Wish us luck.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Cheers,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Rob</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-32868386098778509212007-09-17T18:25:00.000-07:002007-09-17T18:53:03.297-07:00IndianPacific - 2<span lang="EN-US">Thursday, Sept 13</span> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p>I arise early, as is my wont, and head down to the lounge car about 5:30.<span style=""> </span>Here’s a sunrise picture.</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw1p09CGS0fukgQow6hdyKcunObZ-Y4TRJOQR9QBU8B7vuF4ixOHUlB2ECI2kDwdlsScWP0q1rhBC2CzEJ693wdbm-BfaU62iaC9aUYGsjJsNO7qqKuVbRsRogKtw7gWJ1VXR4r__UsHw/s1600-h/DSC02425.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw1p09CGS0fukgQow6hdyKcunObZ-Y4TRJOQR9QBU8B7vuF4ixOHUlB2ECI2kDwdlsScWP0q1rhBC2CzEJ693wdbm-BfaU62iaC9aUYGsjJsNO7qqKuVbRsRogKtw7gWJ1VXR4r__UsHw/s320/DSC02425.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111349940312420914" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span lang="EN-US">Train staff are going to serve a pre-breakfast at 6:00 because we’re stopping for our first “whistlestop” tour – this one in Broken Hill – at 7:00.<span style=""> </span>There are a couple of Aussie old bulls in the lounge and the talk soon turns to politics.<span style=""> </span>After finding that I’m from USA, they give me a primer:</span></p><p class="MsoBodyText"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span lang="EN-US">There is soon to be an election for prime minister and the incumbent, John Howard, of the Liberal party (which is Australia’s conservative party – go figure) is trailing badly in the polls to his Labor Party opponent.<span style=""> </span>A lot of what I hear is “grrrrrr, bloke, grrr bloody, grr, hmmph, youknowwhatImean,” but some of the points I pick up are: Labour can’t manage the economy.<span style=""> </span>Last time they were in their Treasurer was a bloke who had managed three coffee shops into bankruptcy – and he was put in charge of the country’s money!!<span style=""> </span> The public’s memory is short, they say.<span style=""> </span>Howard has been in about 11 years, and people have forgotten how bad the economy was before then and what the Liberals have done since then to fix it. There’s a whole new generation of voters, too young to remember and too uninterested to care.<span style=""> </span>(Incidentally, Don told us that if you don’t register to vote, or if you don’t vote, you’re fined.<span style=""> </span>Everyone is required to vote.<span style=""> </span>I need to look up some statistics on that.<span style=""> </span>Where’s the internet when you need it?)</span></p><p class="MsoBodyText"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span lang="EN-US">Australia’s big trading partners in Asia had disastrous stock-market crashes a few years ago, but Australia was largely cushioned from the blow, thanks, I’m told, to people who understand how the economy works.<span style=""> </span>Everyone in Labor’s leadership is a union member and they can’t manage anything – like coffee shops! (I pick up a paper later in the day and the Liberal Party’s number two man is cited as saying: ‘(the) Opposition Leader (is) an economic illiterate backed by a “gaggle of trade union leaders.”… “the most lightweight leader of a political party that I have seen.”’ Nothing like being forthright.)</span></p><p class="MsoBodyText"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">I think Howard’s been our best ally in thinking clearly and speaking coherently about the radical Islam threat, so it will hurt to lose him from the world scene.<span style=""> </span>Australia has 550 troops in Iraq The Labor leader’s plan is to bring them home at a rate of 10-15 per month.<span style=""> </span>You can’t do that, my instructors say.<span style=""> </span>They’re a unit.<span style=""> </span>To dismantle </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">them slowly</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"> is going to leave a body that can’t function as a unit.<span style=""> </span>It puts comrades at risk.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Anyhow, I enjoyed my instruction in Aussie politics from the Liberal side.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Broken Hill, well into the outback, came into existence when silver was discovered in 1883.<span style=""> </span>They’re still actively mining silver, lead, and zinc and the town’s population is 23,000.<span style=""> </span>Our tour bus driver estimated that BH had another 100 years of mining left, others are more pessimistic.<span style=""> </span>There’s an underground ore seam 4.5 miles long by about 800 ft. wide (he didn’t say how thick) -- they call it the line of life (which is how I translate the “loin of loife”) -- that’s being extracted.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Our first stop is the airport where a unit of the Royal Flying Doctor Service is located.<span style=""> </span>On the way we pass under a sign that says Airport, our driver points out.<span style=""> </span>It used to say Welcome on one side, Farewell on the other.<span style=""> </span>That was for Queen Elizabeth’s benefit, who visited quite a while ago, but now it just says Airport.<span style=""> </span>Makes you kind of sad.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">As we drive around town, our driver helpfully points out several retirement homes.<span style=""> </span>I guess he’s made a judgment about the interests of the IP passengers he sees on his bus.<span style=""> </span>BH has lots of well-kept miner’s cottages and a nice downtown collection of 100-year old public buildings, so I can see why BH could be something of a tourist destination.<span style=""> </span>A town brochure lists several B&Bs.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <br /> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">W.r.t. the Flying Doctors, there are 22 such installations covering 80% of Australia to the extent that anybody anywhere in that vast open expanse who needs a doctor can be reached within two hours.<span style=""> </span>Also, the service has scattered medicine chests around the country for ready access.<span style=""> </span>Also, people in the outback have body maps, so someone in pain can tell the doctor by phone or radio, “It hurts between my A and my B!<span style=""> </span>Nobody pays for service – government pays 2/3 of the program’s cost; various citizen fund-raising activities -- rodeos, bake sales, …<span style=""> </span>-- pay for the rest.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKmTB2hsM1nqUzo6dS-5mKomiU2gvY_U2_pvWAzTQQJb4KIskzmyyH05aKgmUuNOefb6s86lloTwW_qqiAuUR83McjdQ9lW1xJGKmrcXXko8Z3_9DcM0x_WUMKa04bxxPa3QW6taUjA-Y/s1600-h/DSC02430.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKmTB2hsM1nqUzo6dS-5mKomiU2gvY_U2_pvWAzTQQJb4KIskzmyyH05aKgmUuNOefb6s86lloTwW_qqiAuUR83McjdQ9lW1xJGKmrcXXko8Z3_9DcM0x_WUMKa04bxxPa3QW6taUjA-Y/s320/DSC02430.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111351048413983298" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">One other stop on the tour was a combination art gallery and jewelry store.<span style=""> </span>I bought a postcard copy of a local artist’s rendition of the Red Centre.<span style=""> </span>Here’s a picture of it (guess I could have just photographed it in the store and saved $1):<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLvkrbSK8gskLHuhrmcsTvG1I4sWQdB2JPAfJerxxy2qqrYfkWzsT6N5eb5otuH2x1LWFq4zEEcCe5uUIEsUPzXosFuXoh_63tf17hpzEFaZG7c1NsLOK62K63kFmz7woIrzjqFv96KBQ/s1600-h/DSC02431.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLvkrbSK8gskLHuhrmcsTvG1I4sWQdB2JPAfJerxxy2qqrYfkWzsT6N5eb5otuH2x1LWFq4zEEcCe5uUIEsUPzXosFuXoh_63tf17hpzEFaZG7c1NsLOK62K63kFmz7woIrzjqFv96KBQ/s320/DSC02431.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111351048413983314" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Somewhere out of Broken Hill Dick sees a couple of kangaroos in the real wild.<span style=""> </span>I’m on the other side of the car with my nose to the laptop, so I don’t see them.<span style=""> </span>Later, while we’re stopped on a siding, Dick sees an emu hen(?) with five chicks near by and I get a good look through binoculars.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivcuslDFQwovGdU6Ebi7_Yw3-TzNy_ruWu3_nmX_ANbuXAIMOSQt8PijSn7NWS_CUlJb14cn-bcsX9RKiLCzZ-jrOXbixZGeDAmtTRn2PTNgk1_s_jVMvZxWz5JegA0GbTnrqpcRC1x4M/s1600-h/DSC02432.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivcuslDFQwovGdU6Ebi7_Yw3-TzNy_ruWu3_nmX_ANbuXAIMOSQt8PijSn7NWS_CUlJb14cn-bcsX9RKiLCzZ-jrOXbixZGeDAmtTRn2PTNgk1_s_jVMvZxWz5JegA0GbTnrqpcRC1x4M/s320/DSC02432.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111351052708950626" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Around Broken Hill the terrain is quite barren.<span style=""> </span>Later, around lunch time as we angle southward toward Adelaide we get into wheat-farming country – pretty and green.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">In Adelaide the weather has turned rainy.<span style=""> </span>We take a bus tour with only one brief stop to get out.<span style=""> </span>The original city is surrounded by parkland on four sides and the city is known for its gardens.<span style=""> </span>We get some glimpses through wet windows.<span style=""> </span>We also see a lot of small to elaborate period homes, well-preserved or restored.<span style=""> </span>Adelaide is known as the “city of churches,” and we drive by quite a few fine old specimens.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">My big thrill is that the bus went by the Newmarket Hotel where my Mom and I memorably stayed in 1991.<span style=""> </span>It looks like it’s been refurbished.<span style=""> </span>A lounge is prominently advertised. The surrounding neighborhood looks friendlier.<span style=""> </span>(I had thought about skipping the tour and making a pilgrimage to the Newmarket on my own, but I had decided seeing the city that Mom and I didn’t was the better choice.)<span style=""> </span>Later I talked to bus driver and he confirmed my impression that the Newmarket is surviving<span style=""> </span>and thriving.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">We leave Adelaide about dark.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Cheers,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Rob</span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-68822812378978059172007-09-17T18:21:00.000-07:002007-09-17T18:51:39.862-07:00IndianPacific - 1<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11;"><o:p></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US">Wednesday, Sept. 12, after our meat-pie lunch at the Lord Nelson we take a cab to Central Station and find the platform for the IP, if I may abbreviate it that way.<span style=""> </span>We’ve been concerned because the directions we received said take only a small bag on board; have large bags shipped on the baggage car, with no access until Perth.<span style=""> </span>The IP folks on site tell us, though, that if you’re going to Perth, you’ll probably need all your stuff in your compartment with you – and there’s room for what we have.<span style=""> </span>I had packed with the idea that I would have only my small bag, but was glad, nevertheless, to take them both on board.<span style=""> </span>The compartment is small, but with enough room for me and the two bags.<span style=""> </span></span> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPIVZbZX7Z54wgVAuk_xVEL-YcQ37aFRdVREbxAWyVIl2F1Fwj-SoUnd6kPpbrBAMWS28lJdEzOwU_6XtQID3l6hiVKUzRUngQZJMmPWeWXsdh8ROHQibFPZJQpbKR_nwAmOTvGf1cHC4/s1600-h/DSC02419.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPIVZbZX7Z54wgVAuk_xVEL-YcQ37aFRdVREbxAWyVIl2F1Fwj-SoUnd6kPpbrBAMWS28lJdEzOwU_6XtQID3l6hiVKUzRUngQZJMmPWeWXsdh8ROHQibFPZJQpbKR_nwAmOTvGf1cHC4/s320/DSC02419.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111348750606479906" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">We’re also told when we board to wait in our cabins until our “car-manager” comes by to instruct us on safety and other essentials.<span style=""> </span>I get my lecture, but Dick doesn’t.<span style=""> </span>He can’t leave his cabin, just down the row from mine.<span style=""> </span>I go find the car-manager and she comes to instruct and free him.<span style=""> </span>Part of the process is to give our meal-sitting preference – early or late.<span style=""> </span>We wanted early, but those slots were filled before they got to us.<span style=""> </span>Late dinner is 8:00pm, but when you consider that they fold your bed down while you’re at dinner, maybe it’s better to eat later.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Anyhow, when we get back from dinner, my bunk is down and apparently so are the others in the car, but Dick’s isn’t.<span style=""> </span>He’s starting to think they’re picking on him and is about ready to push the emergency button, which we’ve been told is a no-no except in life-threatening circumstances, to get some attention. (Not really – Dick wouldn’t do that.)<span style=""> </span>He finds the staff and they rush to take care of him.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">At dinner we sat with Don.<span style=""> </span>Don was traveling from Sydney, his home, to Adelaide to see his brother and sister who he hasn’t seen for 40 years.<span style=""> </span>Dining car was very noisy and Don’s voice was soft and his accent was pretty thick, so I didn’t get a lot of this directly, but Dick and I discussed it afterwards, so I think this is the story.<span style=""> </span><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Don volunteered to fight in Vietnam against his family’s wishes.<span style=""> </span>They turned their back on him.<span style=""> </span>When he came back, he got the sort of abuse from his fellow citizens that many Vietnam vets got, here as well as the US.<span style=""> </span>All very traumatic, but after 40 years he’s going to try to reconnect with his family.<span style=""> </span>Hope he is successful.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">One other thing: Dick like milk with his meals.<span style=""> </span>He makes the request; some times they bring milk.<span style=""> </span>Still picking on him.</span></p><p class="MsoBodyText"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Full train day tomorrow.<span style=""> </span>Stay tuned.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Cheers,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Rob</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-33603165394566701472007-09-17T17:59:00.000-07:002007-09-17T18:21:12.622-07:00Sydney -day 4<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Sept. 12.<span style=""> </span>Sydney, Day 4<o:p></o:p></span> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>We leave this afternoon on the Indian Pacific train.<span style=""> </span>But first: I wake up early.<span style=""> </span>The Harbour Bridge beckons.<span style=""> </span>I decide to walk across it and back and am rewarded with this view of the Opera House from the Bridge at 530am.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCNWC9QWv1TEqx-B7YaM4eBlK7XdR4TogJV3Up68-6Gks8O0g-k92NpuiWubNF5DphGXvYiO65Q-1sd8eiovUIKnFuvqyBWeGtsMXoBpnVHy8EcaVxLHzklvbbzV8T8VkAM-Yt2gp_788/s1600-h/DSC02401.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCNWC9QWv1TEqx-B7YaM4eBlK7XdR4TogJV3Up68-6Gks8O0g-k92NpuiWubNF5DphGXvYiO65Q-1sd8eiovUIKnFuvqyBWeGtsMXoBpnVHy8EcaVxLHzklvbbzV8T8VkAM-Yt2gp_788/s400/DSC02401.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111343420552065474" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">From one end of the walkway to the other is about 20 mins.</span></p><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">I’m fascinated by the Bridge.<span style=""> </span>That’s the Sydney icon for me.<span style=""> </span>As Bryson notes, it’s always popping up in your line of sight – above a leafy residential street, over the top of low buildings, end of busy avenue, as a ferry rounds a point, …<span style=""> </span>It’s known affectionately as the “coat hanger,” and you can see why.<span style=""> </span>Its magnitude - the massiveness of the pylons and girders - relative to a fairly short harbour-crossing makes it stand out.<span style=""> </span>It’s not one of those wispy modern bridges you see – the ones that impress you with their apparent lightness and hide their real strength.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8S7L3kRFdPmA5Q2FqhmSTqyNMqzAAT2MxisiyL_V8sfeGacHX1AV2VC4gOoewEB9wl_iAAl5UjKdZ40SMstGj4EQYSXVhbS_F9CV0Xsqh6g_Qg3HZFqo6lTqX-SZGJ0XR_VUsWsSbTsU/s1600-h/DSC02270.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8S7L3kRFdPmA5Q2FqhmSTqyNMqzAAT2MxisiyL_V8sfeGacHX1AV2VC4gOoewEB9wl_iAAl5UjKdZ40SMstGj4EQYSXVhbS_F9CV0Xsqh6g_Qg3HZFqo6lTqX-SZGJ0XR_VUsWsSbTsU/s320/DSC02270.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111344666092581330" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlAVBBTNRiSNBwl2CwFyah_bHBP6P6Lls0Ow_P7ZuUKJKogMQ8lmpZhmyr1awtVn-v-TOqkqi80UvQSPhPxFkuV75kK5MzQSD9BXKOdQYM-jxPMzH-GnH2xRqBctOiGv51rjsyxZ6L5N8/s1600-h/DSC02288.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlAVBBTNRiSNBwl2CwFyah_bHBP6P6Lls0Ow_P7ZuUKJKogMQ8lmpZhmyr1awtVn-v-TOqkqi80UvQSPhPxFkuV75kK5MzQSD9BXKOdQYM-jxPMzH-GnH2xRqBctOiGv51rjsyxZ6L5N8/s320/DSC02288.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111344670387548642" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">This bridge carries 10 lanes of traffic, I think, plus a light-rail line, and a pedestrian lane on one side, bike lane on other side.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbXKPLMJomeh6byFH7PawIatgw03Xj3VOMglpUni9K50tKaqu_IJXUIpvxpNYNALrHoj-lVu_Rdq1K-iKb4YXzZdiZeikcdw_7ObMwLyFirN5TT7eeFcK-uAeSTqQk0rnSMGmCJ7dFFE8/s1600-h/DSC02325.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbXKPLMJomeh6byFH7PawIatgw03Xj3VOMglpUni9K50tKaqu_IJXUIpvxpNYNALrHoj-lVu_Rdq1K-iKb4YXzZdiZeikcdw_7ObMwLyFirN5TT7eeFcK-uAeSTqQk0rnSMGmCJ7dFFE8/s320/DSC02325.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111344670387548658" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">This is our last morning in the Lord Nelson.<span style=""> </span>We do both breakfast and lunch there – finally have a meat pie. Quite meaty and well-spiced. In between we manage to use our phone card successfully – repeated failures the day before, at a cost of AU50c each!<span style=""> </span>The card, though, is phenomenal once you get connected – 300 mins. for US$8.<span style=""> </span>Good to talk to the folks at home.<span style=""> </span>We also check e-mail and I blog-post our Sydney notes and pictures for your edification and pleasure. [Note added later. A week later we - Dick, actually - get the idea to call the card's customer service number. Turns out we've been interpreting things wrong. The card has access numbers listed by cities. That means use them only in those cities. We've been using the access number of the nearest city when we've been out in the bush. Wrong. That requires more money in the machine for a long distance call. We've been putting in 50c, as in Sydney, so, boom, when that's spent the line is disconnected. There's another access number for calls outside the listed cities. So, as of today, 9/18, we're using the phone card correctly. I think we're paying more for it, though, when we have to use the national number. But, it's worth it to hear the voices of all of you to whom we have been fortunate enough to speak.]</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBFVI7-SFAsdwbJNlzwLTi1bb2guRImUirAYLmenHAsp0dRsFoogMEOOa2TgxRzLyCuJUxiwh_g5y46GXGctPFi-aSGAKltk1HfzoIlOD8YJ5q4deDLpyRywi55Y3gytu2BRiuLKbzW2k/s1600-h/DSC02369.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBFVI7-SFAsdwbJNlzwLTi1bb2guRImUirAYLmenHAsp0dRsFoogMEOOa2TgxRzLyCuJUxiwh_g5y46GXGctPFi-aSGAKltk1HfzoIlOD8YJ5q4deDLpyRywi55Y3gytu2BRiuLKbzW2k/s320/DSC02369.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111345576625648146" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Across the way from the Lord Nelson is a historical observatory, now a museum, and we spend an hour there.<span style=""> </span>Lots of telescopes and associated gear plus a very interesting video is playing on the voyage of James Cook that led to the discovery of Australia.<span style=""> </span>His reason for being in the south Pacific was to observe the “transit of Venus.”<span style=""> </span>That’s when Venus passes in front of the sun, from the right perspective on earth.<span style=""> </span>This happens twice in an eight-year span about once a century.<span style=""> </span>I don’t have even a glimmer of the mathematics/geometry involved, but by measuring this transit it’s possible to get an accurate estimate of the distance from the sun to the earth and from that be able to measure distances among the other planets more accurately than would otherwise be possible.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Now, I’m leading up to some interesting statistics.<span style=""> </span>There’s a famous paper in which successive estimates, by different laboratories, of the earth-sun distance are compared.<span style=""> </span>Each lab, as should be the case with scientific work, included “error bars” to express how uncertain their measurements were.<span style=""> </span>It turned out, though, that each successive estimate did not fall in the error bars of the preceding lab’s estimate.<span style=""> </span>So, the error bars weren’t really capturing how uncertain an estimate was.<span style=""> </span>Important sources of uncertainty had been left out.<span style=""> </span>The author’s point was that better methods were needed to evaluate uncertainty.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">OK, sorry for the diversion.<span style=""> </span>Back to Cook’s voyage.<span style=""> </span>After catching the Venus transit, he sailed on SW and found New Zealand.<span style=""> </span>Sailed its whole circumference and mapped it, I believe.<span style=""> </span>Milford Sound is a fiord on the west side of the south island – very scenic and much visited.<span style=""> </span>When Susie and I were there in 2003 we were told that the entrance to the Sound is difficult to see from sea and so Cook missed it.<span style=""> </span>In the video, Cook and company saw the fiord and the botanist on board wanted to land and explore.<span style=""> </span>Cook said, No, too dangerous.<span style=""> </span>Fiords are too deep to anchor in so they would be hard-pressed to keep from being dashed on the rocks.<span style=""> </span>Of course, he won the argument.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">After doing NZ, the next issue was how to go home to England: east, around S. America, or west, around Africa.<span style=""> </span>If west, they would look for what was then called “New Holland,” parts of which had been discovered by earlier European explorers.<span style=""> </span>The decision was West.<span style=""> </span>Lo and behold, land ho!<span style=""> </span>That’s where the video ended.<span style=""> </span>Cook named their landing point, Botany Bay, for his botanist, then sailed up and mapped the east coast and claimed the land for England.<span style=""> </span>He missed the Sydney Harbour entrance.<span style=""> </span>When the first load of prisoner-settlers came, they didn’t like Botany Bay and found their way north a bit to what was to become Sydney Harbour.</span></p>Here's a last morning's view of Sydney. Really a great city.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKrBkGVWyzNlfrIBoRxs95_j62WbPAy1BXd9_56enKEqm-Cklb8Sae4yy0Tc5uv3ue3x0z-R_8H6Cx8zIOz_EVs3tJFgKaf0Ryz4_DBMzaE06c7aGcIrM_UNp_Lis_xL5cjj0YPh5-CMs/s1600-h/DSC02311.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKrBkGVWyzNlfrIBoRxs95_j62WbPAy1BXd9_56enKEqm-Cklb8Sae4yy0Tc5uv3ue3x0z-R_8H6Cx8zIOz_EVs3tJFgKaf0Ryz4_DBMzaE06c7aGcIrM_UNp_Lis_xL5cjj0YPh5-CMs/s320/DSC02311.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111345572330680834" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Cheers,<br /><br />Rob<br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11;"><br /><o:p></o:p></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-66194752496939223892007-09-17T17:44:00.000-07:002007-09-17T18:54:27.564-07:00Blue Mountains<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Sept. 11.<span style=""> </span>Blue Mountains<o:p></o:p></span> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>Tuesday, 9/11, was devoted to a tour of the Blue Mountains.<span style=""> </span>The Blue Mtns.aren’t high – about 3300 ft., but they’re rugged and densely forested in some areas.<span style=""> </span>They get their name from the bluish haze produced by gas emitted by the eucalyptus trees.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p>It took about 25 years before the settlers penetrated and crossed the mountains due to terrain and Aborigine resistance.<span style=""> </span>They found the sort of land that was urgently needed for raising crops and livestock.<span style=""> </span>Prior to that, con men in Sydney sold maps to the geographically-challenged convict/settlers purporting to show a route through the mountains emerging in China and freedom!<span style=""> </span>I guess not enough of them got back to Sydney to warn others of this scam.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p><br />We made several Blue Mtn stops: the Blue Mountains National Park, where we saw kangaroos and cockatoos in the wild, sort of. They're accustomed to gawkers. Also saw Wentworth Falls and a rock formation called the Three Sisters.</span></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgCP6Q4qjnswVbtQOzlb_PPjMYPDGZn78bXvnW9WsKTcbo6LN_XY8XhSnPi9jYPtBz30bQIBc2VEwcrevzqjPq3NZL8wv57xeUn0ADSFtWPy-2xY7WfymHuvMx0tKNAUgL44LbtZU9OZA/s1600-h/DSC02378.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgCP6Q4qjnswVbtQOzlb_PPjMYPDGZn78bXvnW9WsKTcbo6LN_XY8XhSnPi9jYPtBz30bQIBc2VEwcrevzqjPq3NZL8wv57xeUn0ADSFtWPy-2xY7WfymHuvMx0tKNAUgL44LbtZU9OZA/s320/DSC02378.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111339713995288930" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrUUrQ53OoB8Lgzd1NXXDscTot-jkK8AYblENKL2af0Zj8TeyqEJ4EcAYa7dZPDhybjBQHsKL6DJvMLl-IjhsETpSuxKrdrxT8mBptTZy_MrgmTiiir0w_wFqV24ngvlFQt-y3jEL-_u0/s1600-h/DSC02380.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrUUrQ53OoB8Lgzd1NXXDscTot-jkK8AYblENKL2af0Zj8TeyqEJ4EcAYa7dZPDhybjBQHsKL6DJvMLl-IjhsETpSuxKrdrxT8mBptTZy_MrgmTiiir0w_wFqV24ngvlFQt-y3jEL-_u0/s320/DSC02380.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111339726880190834" border="0" /></a><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:11;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ZWHsq7xN37wVi_NPW2-qDK7M0_OmV88Ff0PLP6Twd-BE2BHCSVsPtiorhfDH7AR64I9uIFTFrjRj-4AHJLH92Zj6BOIbKOOjOrz6AWM8zS5HPNUlEhBzWxoQkJ5O9oBR1y_WPyM-y9E/s1600-h/DSC02384.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ZWHsq7xN37wVi_NPW2-qDK7M0_OmV88Ff0PLP6Twd-BE2BHCSVsPtiorhfDH7AR64I9uIFTFrjRj-4AHJLH92Zj6BOIbKOOjOrz6AWM8zS5HPNUlEhBzWxoQkJ5O9oBR1y_WPyM-y9E/s320/DSC02384.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111339731175158146" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPp9pgzXiU-iZt6ogpDoJHhHMx09q3krmDUrteEj-JC0I7wA5BvHdLcm8xzULBSu_J1aH-ysvcr1ZWdLta7SGbM0qACSO7r5bjQf-RZ2hrPPByeIooueKIl1_5cEa-mQB0aOLIO0uL478/s1600-h/DSC02394.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPp9pgzXiU-iZt6ogpDoJHhHMx09q3krmDUrteEj-JC0I7wA5BvHdLcm8xzULBSu_J1aH-ysvcr1ZWdLta7SGbM0qACSO7r5bjQf-RZ2hrPPByeIooueKIl1_5cEa-mQB0aOLIO0uL478/s320/DSC02394.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111339735470125458" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Nice mountain vistas all along the way. That's my passport pouch cleverly disguised as a paunch under my poncho.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg4KgBO220jBWtz5bk_INSsvSND7bs1TGexXCwKrr6AzSC05fCgfsKDuqhyphenhyphenKc15ofgSFk6GV9VKKdQP8nh0qBwlu8YZVJNuLCpl8MhXbnNG071MX1JdCT2cAJ_hz0_MUhDHEpweqcbEDg/s1600-h/DSC02387.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg4KgBO220jBWtz5bk_INSsvSND7bs1TGexXCwKrr6AzSC05fCgfsKDuqhyphenhyphenKc15ofgSFk6GV9VKKdQP8nh0qBwlu8YZVJNuLCpl8MhXbnNG071MX1JdCT2cAJ_hz0_MUhDHEpweqcbEDg/s320/DSC02387.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111341462046978466" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;">Just past the Three Sisters we stopped at a site where a cog railroad used by coal miners had been converted into a tourist railroad – the steepest incline RR in the world, the sign said: a vertical drop of 250 meters over a distance of 450 meters.<span style=""> </span>It’s like being on a roller coaster with brakes.<span style=""> </span>Weather turned cold and windy, with light rain, so we opted for mechanical conveyance up and down the cliff front as opposed to an hour and a half bushwalk.<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Gs1Nl1vY7pba1lPkTjY2Lo4Ozgstmv0NSd_1LIAaaXOtjOOBjK2kZ7Zn2SHK5A0oKF8MSCkc33lqCUyYzTTCt6UajdWAUpZ9gVQxC6p9gbr8_IZoBcUbGczdhzwo1RndIKYaRAAsevo/s1600-h/DSC02395.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Gs1Nl1vY7pba1lPkTjY2Lo4Ozgstmv0NSd_1LIAaaXOtjOOBjK2kZ7Zn2SHK5A0oKF8MSCkc33lqCUyYzTTCt6UajdWAUpZ9gVQxC6p9gbr8_IZoBcUbGczdhzwo1RndIKYaRAAsevo/s320/DSC02395.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111342024687694258" border="0" /></a>Cheers for now,<br /><br /><br />Rob<br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /><br /><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-13666146504487042552007-09-11T18:02:00.000-07:002007-09-11T18:43:15.341-07:00Sydney<div><div>Sept. 9<br /><br />Arrived Sydney 730 am. Shuttle took us to the Lord Nelson Brewery and Hotel – the oldest hotel in Sydney, located in the Rocks area of the city. Pub door was open, we went in. Nobody around. Shades of the Newmarket in Adelaide 16 years ago (see previous posting below). We hear people on the stairs – the stairway behind the pub leading up to the rooms. It’s a couple of patrons of the hotel. They tell us it is a functioning hotel and where to find receptionist. We find her. She’s very helpful. We’re too early to get into our room, but we can leave our bags in office and she directs us to the Rocks market, a popular weekend gathering place where we have some brunch, it now being several hours since our Qantas breakfast. The whole hotel experience here is very nice - it was a good choice.<br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109118713754371426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpI7NjIriaVa5WFIZ0_GGWBGSLHMDgN30U-6RWxeXOSIc4eyloMC9KZZ176-x8pAZ96dj3QkM92axyC0CMVMYZn8m7wiydyChg715Vr5G9P_4BfUeLs0wQkD1nI1yIMHbT1NPyGAdWccI/s320/DSC02369.JPG" border="0" /><br />On our way to the market we passed the Holy Trinity Anglican Church, also known as the Garrison church because, historically, soldiers were garrisoned in this area. We had decided to go to church here, so that’s where we returned after brunch.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109118035149538642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtxQ_g27HPcZ0160Jb2euoWB5zkRpeMdcSjOQB47_fh_VYrPCHkU-ZCoOnAYZu3zL_-EvsX5TvT7rmPNAXDHZ6eM3mZvp4DRU9CPLG6C05tIHE7o5g7xzfS24F7lHs4uphr-Q96uD4JRk/s320/DSC02269.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br />At church a small congregation in lovely, old church, very formal, mostly older people, except one young man, the student minister, with family, including noisy child. Had a communion service. There was tea after the service and we had a nice conversation with pastor’s wife and student minister. Maybe more on this visit later.</div><div> </div><div>One connection (?): On the flight over I couldn't sleep and spent most of the time reading <em>Deliverance</em>, by James Dickey - the book behind the movie most everybody has seen. Well, the preacher's sermon was from Psalms 3, concluding with this verse: Ps 3:8: “From the Lord comes deliverance." Question: Is Dickey using “deliverance” in any sort of Biblical/allegorical sense? I doubt it. His canoeists got their deliverance by violence and dishonesty. Their actions were more in line with: Psalms 3:7 “Deliver me. Strike all my enemies on the jaw.” Anyhow, that's more than enough amateur theology.<br /><br />After church we caught the City Sightseeing bus for a tour of the downtown area. Well, much of it; I noticed they skipped the Opera House stop. This was no doubt due to the meeting of APEC (the Asian Pacific Economic Co-operation – one newspaper columnist I saw noted this doesn’t make grammatical sense and is not a good acronym – too similar to OPEC, a similarity that tripped up W). APEC ended today with a wrap-up at the Opera House. </div><div> </div><div>There were lots of complaints in the newspaper columns and letters about security provisions. These economic summits tend to spark passionate, sometimes violent protests, so Sydney had prepared diligently – lots of police and barricades. There were signs up on many streets designating them “clearways,” meaning no parking and don’t get in the way of official vehicles should they need the road. Seemed inconsistent with Sydney's relaxed view of itself, but you can understand the official concerns, too.<br /><br />Here's a representative city shot from the top of the bus<br /></div><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109118722344306050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYKSZ4OyQiSE_Jzxa5WynCdA_CMlIaRS5vHqMMUf1dABShI2SqfrGHpsmSXd2lGvO1JsiYw-GFopjuN6xEcPl2tj6MYb-po-ZwH1jX0s8SEch0lHPvpT0r2_ldi3FqKk4b0sIKUDCVvYw/s320/DSC02303.JPG" border="0" /></p></div><div>It's a great and beautiful and friendly city. Clean and attractive.<br /><br /><p>After the bus tour we went back to the hotel, unpacked, and removed 24 hours of grime, plaque, and whiskers from our bodies, teeth, and faces. Back to the street – our on-and-off tour book pass is good for 24 hours. We made our way to Darling Harbor, a popular gathering place, and found something to eat – seafood. Finished the day with an after-dark water-taxi tour: out from Darling Harbour, under the Harbour Bridge, around the Opera House, then return. </p><p><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109118718049338738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigiXhC3j1vSpYrFfBFgG7uZXmCLAKVo5HivtHNX712UQ1uq9RJdwRxxqCaltAj0gkN2lFeoPkyzjJWHiPwnjETUK7IARMtPIC38BgMFKrmbY1DPpUUZ2wAmn6jk-Ye0gOqNOH_Y9hUW4s/s320/DSC02362.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>Monday, Sept. 10, was more Sydney touring: the Opera House, the Sydney Tower, and a ferry to Manly, on the north side of the entrance to Sydney Harbour. Here's an Opera House view and the Manly beach:</div><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVSXxXlos-VNYeJrvwNZp8it5YadNKWj9AQ49x3sFIf2d-ecSKZ_gup2Gm_I6l811p9SWLTihcdMSsaMFnkgaQ4OOkch0AHxNkLUN2zFhVpBf_ptB66NxfKTcTIFCc4IllOlFiIMiUVuY/s1600-h/DSC02336.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109122218447685010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVSXxXlos-VNYeJrvwNZp8it5YadNKWj9AQ49x3sFIf2d-ecSKZ_gup2Gm_I6l811p9SWLTihcdMSsaMFnkgaQ4OOkch0AHxNkLUN2zFhVpBf_ptB66NxfKTcTIFCc4IllOlFiIMiUVuY/s200/DSC02336.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtqeY0gxB8jSCzbrdWBKNq5gzkRGFjrrZe2S-rh-D70k4f3MTxIumJhrjXfQtPMgd-HTigAoJYI_DIcHCKAyhJBj9XpFPhp8z7I3SU6B4o3B2pOy8sZd2EGal7Ag0w1cxck1tAri-dIxo/s1600-h/DSC02348.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109122587814872498" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtqeY0gxB8jSCzbrdWBKNq5gzkRGFjrrZe2S-rh-D70k4f3MTxIumJhrjXfQtPMgd-HTigAoJYI_DIcHCKAyhJBj9XpFPhp8z7I3SU6B4o3B2pOy8sZd2EGal7Ag0w1cxck1tAri-dIxo/s200/DSC02348.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><p></p><br /><br /><p></p><br /><br /><p></p><br /><p></p><br /><p>The Harbour Bridge fascinates me. Bryson writes, in In a Sunburned Country, about how the bridge keeps popping into view unexpectedly -- down a tree-lined side street, over the tops of low buildings, at the end of a busy avenue, ... I had same impression. Monday night we walked halfway across it, then Wednesday morning I walked all the way across and back. Got a 530am picture of the Opera House that looks pretty special. You'll have to wait, though, because I didn't get it transferred to my flash drive before finding this internet cafe. Stay tuned.</p><p> </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109125392066228546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGazgtloXyJ5Wyy2pbLVyTxyCr-XAhIYWxaysRG0OWt1Le75dv7qyO6mesvNS02BAluvWpmc4XCAcgKlLiagHtxMLFiK0NczxSnDlFdKJln-bv0fGx1ZDOPXwe1Qs3z4WpR3LJlDfw1Vk/s320/DSC02297.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109125392066228562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5icY-dri-rxPGvqa-Lt_v6vNe0lFn7S-dmdfop1Qi-IPF-_XAKXIQwcyN-OvP4hRAtAtEk0jAen05cmcHNq8MaqFBKalQtap5qiOSXASI0BXidcG9C9FaEzXYkIw-0m-goPkhET8XbJQ/s320/DSC02366.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p>Cheers,</p><p>Rob</p></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-59024707392658860062007-09-03T13:46:00.000-07:002007-09-03T16:19:37.729-07:00HistorySome data: Australia is the sixth largest country and largest island in the world. It has 20M (million) people and an area of 3M square miles. By way of contrast, the USA figures are 300M people in 3.5M square miles. Australia is five times the size of Alaska, ten times Texas.<br /><br />The Indian Pacific train trip from Sydney to Perth (coast to coast, E/W) is 2700 miles long; driving distance from Washington DC to LA is about the same.<br /><br />Geological Origin: Australia is estimated to have separated from the Asia/Africa land mass on the order of 100M years ago. As a result, Bryson says, 80% of all plant and animal life in Australia exists only in Australia.<br /><br />First humans, the Aborigines, arrived, presumably by boat, by various estimates from 40,000 to 70,000 years ago (source: Wikipedia). This would have required a sea crossing of at least 60 miles, though something I read said that a glacial period could have shortened the distance. It would also have required enough colonists to propagate the population. Much is unknown. Bryson was amazed that he found little interest (his book was published in 2000) in understanding the origins of the Aboriginal people.<br /><br />European Contact and Settlement (source: Bryson): There is evidence of European presence in Australia as early as 1525, but the real story starts with James Cook's discovery and flag-planting in 1770. He sailed along the east coast and found it to have "a very agreeable and promising aspect." Little did he know what lurked inland. Also, his voyage was during the wet season. This picture of Captain Cook from Wikipedia.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106117618241193282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_IHcenksYoFIj9Z7l9RLLsfIqqSdaVfAB4tHJWAE49W7xyYsNeeEC3Rv7hn571-13cxYB2aDDFWO-mTDgKwBe1EwTFyf6MY-uJgIRKctMGXuct1ELlHh56cKOoo_oS9y_BmUMR9unxI8/s400/CapnCook.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />A few years later, England was casting about for a new place to send its undesirable citizens (the United States having been lost). How about Australia? Accordingly, eleven ships with a colonization group of prisoners and guards (1500 people total) left England in 1787. The trip took eight months and they arrived in mid-summer -- not the conditions that Cook had seen. Seeking a better location, the fleet sailed a ways north and settled in what is now Sydney Harbour. They were ill-prepared, but they survived and eventually prospered.<br /><br />Further settlement and expansion took place over the next century and six colonies were formed. In 1901, these colonies became a federation and thus created the Commonwealth of Australia. Roughly, Australia has been a country half as long as has the United States.<br /><br />OK, got the boring stuff out of the way.<br /><br /><br />Bryson tells this story with more humor. One incident: a French ship arrived at SE Australia quite soon after Cook did. A few days earlier, Bryson says, would have "saved the country two hundred years of English cooking."<br /><br />G'day<br /><br />RobUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-85636317251793506012007-09-03T05:23:00.000-07:002007-09-03T10:35:35.544-07:00Book NotesI did a variety of reading to get ready for Australia. Friend, Ann Look, loaned me her book, <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sunburned-Country-Bill-Bryson/dp/0767903862/ref=sr_1_1/102-5119044-3952105?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1188836294&sr=1-1">In a Sunburned Country</a></em>, by Bill Bryson. Bryson is a humorist and travel writer – I had previously read his book on hiking the Appalachian Trail, <em>A Walk in the Woods</em>, but didn’t know he had “done” Australia.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106029111850124594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaNuiBDEAcC91jHBeWuWAEV6iMU183Dm2plkx6TDzemZP2e2arug71Iyy5mkBUIXG4w4CNzj7xiXi5enf7oJWURJKpHDVong1kE-I_PY9MJd_wo-ImiYW95-cLVrOjKUYhtD9VEvIHQ24/s400/SunburnedCountry2.gif" border="0" /><br />A recurring theme in Bryson’s Australia book is the many unpleasant ways you can die there. First, there’s the whole interior of the country – extreme heat, lack of water. Bryson says, <em>“Australia is the driest, flattest, hottest, most desiccated, infertile, and climatically aggressive of all the inhabited continents. Only Antarctica is more hostile to life.”</em><br /><br /><div></div><div>Bryson also worries about Australian animal life: the world's top ten poisonous snakes are Australian. Additonally: crocodiles, poisonous spiders, and various venomous sea creatures. We'll be careful.</div><br /><div>Bryson rode the Indian Pacific train. He loved it. "<em>It was like being given a preview of what it will be like to be in your eighties. All those things eighty-year-olds appear to enjoy -- staring vacantly out windows, dozing in a chair, boring the pants off anyone foolish enough to sit beside them -- took on a special treasured meaning for me. This was the life!"</em> Can't wait -- for the train, not being eighty.</div><br /><div>Before my 1991 trip my sister, Verla, sent me a <em>National Geographic</em> with an article about the “camel lady.” <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robyn_Davidson">Robyn Davidson </a>left a comfortable life in Brisbane in the 1970s to spend two years in Alice Springs learning about camel care & handling. Then she took a string of four camels 1700 miles across the desert to the west coast. Her book, <em>Tracks</em>, tells her story. I re-read that book and was struck by the emotional aspects of her experience. She writes a lot about what it’s like to abandon a modern lifestyle for a primitive, Aborigine-like type of existence<em>.</em> Physically, it was very tough, too, as you might imagine, especially when marauding bands of wild camels threatened her camels.</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106019203360572690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6eImk15ZUBLCWJH1AOp11LAIRiZQVSAYEYDADlYx4vCsnmymZlh0sriR76YbVKTIpmfZOMXHoIVLKSO9xECJCmJtk_QFyVYkJtbHaiyZn7epa7qL1vlFwk2HxWvydQF2LO_K21Qt-gQQ/s400/Tracks-cover.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div>For more background reading I went to the Albuquerque library and Amazon listings for "Australian fiction." Checked a few out of the library. <em>The Secret River</em>, by Kate Grenville was a good piece of historical fiction, an award-winning book about a British convict sentenced to death, for theft, whose term was commuted to exile in Australia in the early 1800s. His wife was sent with him, in essence, to be his parole officer. They end up settling along a little-known river and the book deals mostly with raising a family there and dealing with elements, other settlers, and the Aborigines in the area.</div><br /><div>Bryson notes that Australians he met didn't want to talk about the Aborigine "problem." The situation twenty years earlier is addressed in Davidson's book. I also read the <em>Rabbit-Proof Fence</em> and Susie and I watched the movie which is about three half-breed girls taken from their families and sent to a government boarding school. They escape and walk 1200 miles to get home. </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>I've been reading Aussie newspapers and there are frequent stories about current Aborigine issues and government programs. As we know, it's not easy finding the right way to merge immigrant and indigenous peoples and cultures.</div><br /><div>Incidentally, a friend advised us that Australia still requires a criminal record in order to get into the country, so when Immigration asks, say yes.</div><div><br />Last spring, when we were in Fredericksburg, TX, I picked up <em>The Old Patagonian Express</em>, by Paul Theroux. He left his home in Boston, then by catching successive trains, where possible, traveled to southern Argentina -- Patagonia. He's written other books based on his train travel. These are not guide books. He writes about people he meets, what he eats and drinks, troubles encountered trying to get from one point to another, books he reads while traveling, etc. He's a bit of a curmudgeon, but in an entertaining way. </div><br /><br /><p>Theroux also writes about travel-writing. When he started thinking about writing about his travels, he had found that most travel writing was a bore -- just about sight-seeing. He had found that "half of travel was delay or nuisance." So, he wrote about his travel experiences. One quote: "When something human is recorded, good travel writing happens." In my abbreviated, bloggy way, I'll try to remember that. </p><p> </p><p>People have remarked about our (Susie's and my) willingness to write, expose ourselves, about troubles we have encountered in our <a href="http://tuzigoot.blogspot.com/">motor home travels</a>. Well, those misadventures were some of the most interesting things that happened so, given they weren't tragedies, it seemed appropriate to tell it like it was. We weren't consciously following Theroux, but still consistent with his approach, I like to think.</p><p> </p><div>At any rate, I'm taking a couple of books on this trips that Theroux took on his. If I get around to reading them, I'll let you know about it.</div><br /><div>Four days until departure!</div><br /><div></div><div>Cheers,</div><br /><div></div><div>Rob</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-17639461695515368802007-08-08T09:46:00.000-07:002007-08-08T10:08:59.690-07:00Notes from 1991: Newmarket Hotel<strong>Notes from 1991 trip – Newmarket Hotel<br /></strong><br />Mom and I went to Australia in 1991 to see my brother, Lael, who was early into what turned into about 10 years of working there. He was located in Melbourne, so that’s where we started. While Lael worked, Mom, Lael’s late wife, Sheila, and I flew to Alice Springs, with a side trip to Ayers Rock. After Alice, Sheila flew back to Melbourne and Mom and I flew to Adelaide – a city Mom had read about and wanted to see.<br /><br />Way back in 1991 I blogged in a scrapbook, cutely titled “Bob and Bonnie’s Excellent Journey to Australia.” The following account is taken from that record:<br /><br />In a guidebook, under the heading, Budget-Priced Accommodations, I learned about the <a href="http://www.heritage.gov.au/cgi-bin/ahpi/record.pl?RNE6399">Newmarket Hotel</a>. It was called “absolutely charming, … one of our favorite low-price bargains in the entire country,” and described as a “hotel with genuine creaky character ... – it dates back about 130 years (at the time). The centerpiece is its wonderful, freestanding cedar spiral staircase swirling from the lobby to the upper floor.” All that and budget-priced, too! Couldn’t resist booking us there.<br /><br />Well, we landed in late afternoon and boarded an airport bus taking passengers to various hotels. I got a little nervous when the driver didn’t know where the Newmarket was – I gave him the address. After dropping passengers off at various well-lit hotels, we proceeded down darkening streets and through shabbier surroundings. As we pulled up to our historic, budget-priced hotel, Mom said, “I think one night will be enough.”<br /><br />We entered a dark, empty lobby. I roamed around, heard noise from the kitchen and then a cook came out to greet us. He led us up one flight of the circular staircase to the manager’s apartment. Happily, the mgr. was a young pleasant type, not Boris Karloff or Anthony Perkins, or we would have been out of there. He assured us that this was an operating hotel, checked us in, and invited us to dinner in the restaurant.<br /><br />We climbed the circular staircase to our room, which was a little spooky – high ceiling; peeling, water-stained green velvet wallpaper, tacky furnishings. But, hey, the price was right. And, just look at that spiral staircase!<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096372582746525858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQm3p7OFFlCq2iw-yt58OCq4nQHaOC36EvOhOwBHNG_KKBITVxZerOCOln0eDgpPPjTO9DCXPQfWlA14hw5jL6hnQ8-HmzvDeIESdJxOl82WAC0F01FFOQyKuSWaVObqBCe6T4bnUIx8w/s400/newmktsprial-ed.JPG" border="0" /><br />The restaurant was another eerie experience. Nobody was there, and this was the dinner hour, and nobody came in while we were there. Nevertheless, they had an elaborate salad bar laid out for dozens of people. We had a great meal and a nice visit with the manager and the only waitress. Manager said the plan was soon to convert the rooms to offices – we conjectured that Mom and I might be the last people to stay there, if you know what I mean.<br /><br />I went along with Mom and decided that we would leave the next morning for Melbourne – without seeing any (more) of the city she wanted to see. I’m sure we slept fitfully. (In hindsight, the next morning we should have hied ourselves to the nearest Holiday Inn.) We were taking a bus/train combo trip to Melbourne – see some of the country that way -- and were able to move our departure up one day.<br /><br />The manager had never heard of the bus/train thing, but arranged to have a cab pick us up at 630 am and take us to the bus station by 700 am. When I talked to the manager I didn't have the bus station address -- figuring that there must be only one station and that would be where we go. Overnight, though, I got an address for the station. The cab picks us up – it’s still dark – and I give the driver the address of our bus departure point. He does a doubletake, turns down an alley, and there we are at our bus pick up point – a sidewalk one short block from the hotel! By now you can see that my haphazard, ill-informed trip planning has been a long-time in developing. A few more passengers gathered, I walked back to get a picture of the Newmarket, the bus came, and we journeyed back to Melbourne. </p><p><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096372578451558546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2SkhEInLvPKZ7N4qWtH_PL19watdHXP-yFao30kTnrMQmdKiMQpgNLb_ifDPx9qFKe0AHOqGXZIgQrQtmb4uc_O6ormvgoG1_e_-W_1lE2ZUDzavDAB1mabrsGymI0ZiSU2hhIbGOjkA/s400/newmarket-ed.JPG" border="0" /><br />I've thought occasionally of writing this story up for a travel magazine, but never did. Too late now, but thanks to the internet, it can now be told.<br /><br />Hope to check out the Newmarket when the Indian Pacific stops in Adelaide. Will let you know what I find.<br /><br />Cheers,<br /><br />Rob </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-85327445703156713552007-08-06T18:56:00.000-07:002007-08-07T20:29:41.718-07:002. Plans - Lodging and Tours<strong>Sydney</strong>.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Many of you know I’m something of a sucker for historic hotels, sometimes disguised as run-down. Elsewhere I’ll recap the 1991 visit Mom and I made to the historic and spooky Newmarket Hotel in Adelaide, Australia. I hope to check it out when the Indian Pacific makes its Adelaide stop. In New Zealand in 2003 Susie and I stayed in the historic Brian Boru Hotel in Thames. Susie still tells people about that </span><a href="http://rgeasterling.com/03NewZealand/NZ11.htm"><span style="font-family:georgia;">experience</span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;"> in colorful terms. (You have to know that “hotel” in the southern hemisphere British colonies often means “pub,” at least for the main order of business.)<br /><br /></span>Nevertheless, I searched Sydney lodging websites and Frommer’s for something Sydney-unique, rather than a standard chain. Found the <a href="http://www.lordnelsonbrewery.com/lnbh_joomla/index.php?option=com_frontpage&Itemid=1">Lord Nelson Brewery Hotel</a>. It is Sydney’s “oldest continually licensed hotel.” Dates back to 1831 and has now “been restored to its former grandeur,” the website says. It’s in the historic Rocks district, not far from the Circular Quay which is the hub for harbor ferries. Just hope it has a couple of beds for us, as we’ve been assured.<br /><br />I think we’ll do conventional harbor and city tours in Sydney. Maybe the harbor <a href="http://www.cultureandrecreation.gov.au/articles/harbourbridge">bridge</a> climb. There’s a tour bus through the city that you can board and exit as you desire all day. We’ll just let the agenda develop on the fly for a couple of days.<br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095772820628410482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJSO6ZmCbwFoewrgP7PizZMWpsbjP1LV3j-6mbF3yeVoZ9bepouDwuZ1QCnF1ymKmXSXKOFEkFEGiqbCAJ4xKslNYPEBpyj3s3Vnn0iyrHiyIzlhWnEYka-1YmgRCbDyV00w9HnrZ-QtY/s400/sydneybridgesunset.jpg" border="0" /><br />We have signed up for a <a href="http://www.oztrek.com.au/">Blue Mountain OzTrek</a> that explores the mountains to the west of Sydney. Includes some bushwalking opportunities. Nice pictures on the website.<br /><br /><strong>Indian Pacific Train<br /></strong><br />Some have asked if we’ll be on the train continuously for three days. Answer: No. There are <a href="http://www.trainways.com.au/our-trains/indian-pacific/off-train-tours.php?gsr=e297f8963606b2ac35df6d5fbeead06c">whistle stop</a> tours in Broken Hill (former silver mining center), Adelaide, Kilgoorlie (gold mining), and Perth.<br /><br /><strong>Uluru<br /></strong><br />As mentioned in previous post, we’ll do a sunset tour soon after we get there. There are various possibilities for the next morning. In 1991 I did the Ayers Rock climb – got the pictures and poster. I’ve read recently, though, that the Aboriginal people to whom the area belongs prefer that people not climb on their holy site. Alternatives are hikes or drives around the rock and the nearby Olga Mountains – more large red outcroppings, taller but not as massive as Uluru. In 1991 I took an airplane flight over the area that was dramatic. Now, our other option is a helicopter flight over both Uluru and the Olgas. Dick’s a former pilot so that appealed to him. I debated a little, thinking I might prefer climbing or hiking, but then decided to take the chopper flight, too.<br /><br />Non-holy Uluru memory: In 1991 our guide told us that the record for the fastest climb of Ayers Rock was held by a New Zealander who was told there was a sheep at the summit. Having spent four months in New Zealand, 4 million people, 50 million sheep, I have greater appreciation for that comment.<br /><br />The tourist village a few miles from the Rock, has accommodations ranging from backpacker to luxury resort. Mom, Sheila, and I stayed in a campground cabin in ‘91, which was fine, so that’s what Dick and I are doing.<br /><br /><strong>Cairns<br /></strong><br />Something I read made Cairns, the departure point for Great Barrier Reef tours, sound sort of tacky (there are a variety of travel websites that feature traveler reviews of wherever people go). Frommer’s identified some beach accommodations further up the coast, so we opted for the <a href="http://www.ratestogo.com/Hotel/EN/Ellis_Beach_Oceanfront_Bungalows">Ellis Beach Bungalows</a>, about a half-hour away. Will mean we need to rent a car to get back and forth and spend more time driving, but it looks pretty attractive. Don’t know how much beach time we will have, but will try to make the most of it. We're staying there two nights; then a night in Cairns in order to be near train depot for early departure the following morning.<br /><br />There are lots of Barrier Reef tours to choose from. Friends at church, Gib and Kay Richards, advised us to take the <a href="http://www.greatadventures.com.au/Default.aspx?tabid=36">Great Barrier Reef Adventure and Green Island </a>tour, so we are. Options include snorkeling and scuba diving on the reef plus some beach time on Green Island, near Cairns.<br /><br />Now, here’s the biggest surprise, so far. In 1991, I knew that a HS classmate was living somewhere in Australia, but I thought (statistically), It’s a big country, not much chance ole Dan will be where I’m going, so I didn’t pursue it. After I got home, I found out he was in Melbourne, just where we’d been to see my brother. Drats!<br /><br />This time I checked the faculty website at Monash University, where Dan had been. Not there now. So, I Googled Dan Irby and up popped <a href="http://www.mangroveadventures.com.au/index.html">Dan Irby’s Mangrove Adventures</a> – on the Daintree River, about an hour and a half north of Cairns. He started this venture in 1993. A little e-mail back and forth and Dan’s going to devote a full day to showing just Dick and me his river and his house. Something makes me think his house may be an adventure, too -- the following picture may provide a hint.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095773739751411842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx4Vph8vIlOI-sssRQy7LuY2TZ0ULj-HqUEEkUo0Ee5_Xle43oNABPY00lW-S6BKRdGFYAW6FzIMz-sTftP1usA01htKj4tUIbJBPBw0Nibg6IcGoBdkhcf01jwW0jJTRAKNm2yehqK9I/s400/dan-irby.jpg" border="0" />Just now I noticed Dan’s website has a Frommer’s icon, so I looked in my Frommer’s and found a big, enthusiastic write-up for his river tour. It even mentions his Oklahoma origins! Thank you, Google.<br /><br />Now, what about this <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/QR_Tilt_Train">Tilt Train</a>? you may ask. Is tilting good? Well, that enables it to go fast. According to Wikipedia the Tilt Train operates at about 100 mph. But, after a derailment in 2004 it was restricted to 60 mph. That was the status last I checked a couple of months ago. Now I see that it was restored to full speed on June 18, 2007. All right! Thank you, Wikipedia.</p><p></p><p>Them’s the plans, basically. Thought that getting this sort of background info on record now would save some time in writing up our daily adventures on location.<br /><br />G’day Mates,<br /><br />Rob</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-16694300679536968602007-07-11T20:42:00.000-07:002007-08-05T17:18:44.764-07:00IntroductionRob Easterling here. I'm starting this new blog to report on the trip that Albuquerque friend, Dick Reinert, and I are taking to Australia in September - an AussieOdyssey.<br /><br />If you are reading this, it's likely that you have read some of our <a href="http://tuzigoot.blogspot.com/">http://tuzigoot.blogspot.com/</a> reports -- which Susie and I started for our Malia-adoption trip to China last December. Since then we have added reports mostly dealing with the trips in our motor home, named Tuzigoot Two, or TuziTwo. Rather than add to that blog, I thought it better to start a new blog -- with Australia pictures, etc. up top.<br /><br />Last December, just after Susie and I returned from China, I happened to be visiting with Dick Reinert at church. He asked if I knew anything about the E-W train trip across Australia. Only vaguely. Dick had heard something about it and was intrigued. It crosses the barren emptiness of western Australia and includes a stretch of 297 miles of perfectly straight track! Well, that intrigued me, too – I like wideopenspaces. I knew Susie was not inclined to take another 15 hr. cross-Pacific flight followed by three days on a train, so I made the bold and accurate assumption that she wouldn’t want to go. That led to Dick and me planning a September trip. Our itinerary is in column two.<br /><br />We chose September, the southern hemisphere's early spring, because we didn't want to go during their summer or winter and our springs and summers were full of commitments and plans. Also, my brother Lael alerted us to the spring wildflower season in SW Australia around Perth, so all that made September attractive.<br /><br />Our reports follow. I'm going to post more background information before we go. I don't know what internet access we will have in different parts of Australia, but you might check this site occasionally in September to see what's going on with us. Please feel free to add comments. If you've been to Australia and have suggestions or whatever, we'd be interested to hear from you.<br /><br />G'day Mates!<br /><br />RobUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205677058476145009.post-69009933896164119992007-07-07T14:03:00.000-07:002007-08-06T18:56:07.083-07:001. Plans<span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-family:arial;">The planning process has been instructive and entertaining in its own right, so I thought I'd pass along some of our experiences.<br /><br />With eight months to plan this trip we could take our time. We worked with the AAA travel agency, but ended up doing a lot on our own. The internet gives everyone access to information and we had more time to spend searching and comparing than the agent could. Also, I'd been to Australia twice (shameless place-dropping) and that experience helped.<br /><br />First objective was to fix the time for our Indian Pacific train trip. It leaves Sydney only on Wed. and Sun. We picked the Wed. 9/12 departure, then gave ourselves three days in Sydney to de-jet-lag and see the sights. That meant a Sept. 7 departure from Albq and LAX. (All pictures in this posting are taken from various Aussie websites.)<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095193919166451730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgukTIGgI2rmiHewH04C2iDeYcKXOmxj5mE2zN9A8TaV8K2coEcw_ItVKzQwlFOMZzMhPj8LkY-Oky2GyfBJyuwpbYmuYuzTUtElDb8cldQxKUYpwVorsxS_F5F56GurZ-VZHTQDsFCVQ/s400/indianpacific3.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">That gets us to Perth. Now what? Initially we planned on three nights there to see the city and region but as we learned more about the forests and coast of SW Australia, and realized how far that area was from Perth, we decided on a fourth night. To provide the flexibility to follow whim we decided to rent a camper.<br /></span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095337250815053906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihll_itGpwgonVL6Xx-g6CecgrU8EwtcfuTiOc3tRqIFjqVz6eESTMzDjVHi7bjxeef_7wAS71HShhGQt-NTROM4iKRwZ94xCdQLPHU0pg5jQ3v4unr_ZY8dUq-ENzkWSYTw2pKZ7L5JY/s400/WestOz1.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095337246520086594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxEu_69Tjix7-fN51sDDWi51VvTLr7hafr-VxWnt292g_4W_lRZWBXbrXEE0ibX6kSSNVFz71swR8pVxL3n4d92qbvecRv45isW5cGx9J3lCrk3fwyPHuXw68rFm5Gvj7dMXiW-aaUvuc/s400/Wooleen_Station_Wildflowers.jpg" border="0" /><br /></span><div><span style="font-family:arial;">On my previous trips I had not been to the Great Barrier Reef, diametrically across the country from Perth. I was interested in going there, as was Dick. We considered working in the storied "Ghan" rail trip from Adelaide to Alice Springs, or vice versa. One possibility would have been to take the Indian Pacific back from Perth to Adelaide, then take the Ghan to Alice, then fly to Cairns, from whence to see the Reef. We decided not to risk diluting our Indian Pacific experience by overdoing the train thing.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Uluru, aka Ayers Rock, the giant red outcropping in the Red Center of Australia, is the most famous natural landmark in Australia (Sydney Opera House may be first Aussie image that comes to people's minds). Dick wanted to see Uluru; I wanted to go back (I had been there in 1991 - more on that trip later). Once we realized we could fly directly there from Perth (as opposed to getting there via Alice Springs as I did in '91), then fly on to Cairns, things started to fall in place. We allotted one night at Uluru, taking flights that would get us there in time for a sunset tour and give us the next morning free for closer exploration.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span></div><span style="font-family:courier new;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095195546959056930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6mirB5DaKFPpTCvFFl9vtuNUKbkwlL9QNYA9ee4gBNSZmpFgsUkV8CjcCKPS2dT8W6L6jtJl-adeuNe4vGVWDG2VtFQ1wBUToXYaiDxR3hruXdUxT7QZMpZNklO8g-9VD02_Wa2Dr7I/s320/uluru1.jpg" border="0" /><br /></span><div><span style="font-family:arial;">By this time we had pegged the back end of our trip to another train ride -- the Tilt Train on Sept. 23 from Cairns to Brisbane: a 24-hr. trip (that only runs three days a week). We would then fly on to Sydney for a night, then home on Sept. 25. This gave us three nights in Cairns. All told this makes for a 19 day trip, 17 days in Australia. As Goldilocks would say, "Not too short, or not too long, but ju-ust right," by our reckoning. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:courier new;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095197518349045810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvRP9FofMxGKadInKgrOkPWAZLNuoMcFvLDNiuoX3jdB-O9LvQdc0095R5pHVnRRwuSaCasrSbpKFVCwpqkIzvsF3_zT-Q3WhP5oRTZFqA2x_bw7dSPe-p2iarMhpcdyWF5WBtL1P-070/s320/tilttrain.jpg" border="0" /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">Couple of notes on how our own travel research saved us: </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">1. I had been to the Indian Pacific website and knew what the fare was for the accommodations we wanted. When our agent booked the trip she came back with a fare that was considerably higher. I sent her my info and that got corrected. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">2. One printed resource we used was Frommer's guide to Australia. Reading it, I found out that Qantas offered discount packages that combined the intercontinental RT flight to Australia with in-country flights. It wasn't easy to find this package on the Qantas website, the name of the program had changed, but it was there and that package saved us, too. We had to give some of that savings back when we changed our Perth departure date, but we still came out ahead of booking all flights separately.<br /><br />Next posting: lodging and tours.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Cheers,</span></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Rob</span></div><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0