Australia: New Year, airport mayhem and the Red Centre

After Christmas with relatives, my friend Claire has arrived in Australia for a 2 week jaunt around the highlights, starting with New Year's Eve in Sydney. Coincidentally, that's also her birthday. Here's what happened over that week.

We've been here 9 hours, you bastards

New Year's Eve/Claire's birthday began with a trip to Pancakes On the Rocks, a cafe in the Rocks that specialises in, you guessed it, pancakes. What better way to start a birthday than with pancakes? Although, it being before lunch time, we opted for the savoury variety instead.

Nicely full of carbs, we had a wander around the contemporary art museum. Just as odd as any other modern art museum.

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At this point, it was slipping past noon, I thought we should probably be trying to find somewhere to sit and wait for the fireworks. I'm not sure Claire understood just how busy it was going to get, so instead we tried to visit the Botanic Gardens, but they were shut because of the fireworks and the public viewing area there was already full.

Yeah, New Year's in Sydney? Madness. Instead we went back to Observatory Hill which was already getting busy but promised to be quieter than other areas because there was an alcohol ban and the capacity was lower.

And so we sat on the grass and waited.

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And waited.

And waited some more.

For nine hours. Well, not quite that long for the first batch of fireworks, after which a few people with little kids slotted off.

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But nine hours for the midnight fireworks. As it turns out, we had quite a good spot, being up on the hill. You could see up and down the harbour and the Harbour Bridge was near enough straight in front of us. But you can only do so much about the people around you and as the countdown hit midnight, a bunch of Germans pushed their way in front of us.

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And this is why most of my photos of the fireworks have huge heads in them. Ignorant bastards. I was tired. I'd been waiting on prickly grass for hours. I was not in the mood to be charitable and I'm still not. It doesn't hurt to be polite.

I think Claire enjoyed the fireworks though...

Where did the morning go?

The following day, I woke up around 9am. Said fuck it to getting up. Woke up again around 11am. Thought really hard about getting up...

In the end, we didn't leave the AirBnb until well after noon. We'd wanted to do Taronga Zoo and determined not to completely waste the day, we hopped on the ferry and arrived at the zoo about 2 hours before closing. I don't think we did too badly - we made a rough plan of what we wanted to see and then whizzed round. Look, a wild dragon.

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And a sleepy red panda.

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And a really dozy binturong.

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Oh, and I finally saw a platypus. Claire has better photos, but this will do for now.

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Yep, not bad for 2 hours. Normally I'd spend all day in a zoo though...

Since we'd slept so long, we didn't really feel like going back to Leichhardt and the AirBnB so early, so we had a wander through the Botanic Gardens in the rain.

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And then hopped on a bus to Bondi, just to see the beach. Also to see if they had any good fish and chips. Here is the glorious sunset over Bondi.

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I can't claim to have tried the fish and chips, because I had calamari, which was delicious. Claire seemed to enjoy hers though.

DO ALL THE THINGS

On our last day in Sydney, we had to be a bit more organised with our time. First stop, the Opera House for our tour. Fascinating, but it lasted longer than I expected. Look at this concert hall - the funny flying saucers are so that the orchestra hear themselves properly. Other than that, the acoustics are brilliant in there.

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I love this architecture.

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With the tour apparently overrunning and our planned train missed, we made a detour to the Queen Victoria Building to see the huge Christmas tree with its Swarowski crystals and all that.

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Finally, we got on the train to Katoomba. Yep, going back to the Blue Mountains. This time I bypassed Scenic World and took Claire straight to the Three Sisters.

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We also took the track down to Honeymoon Bridge, which joins the pillars to the cliff. There were rather a lot of steps...

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Which we then had to climb again on the way back. I must be getting fitter because they didn't seem too bad to me.  Either that or the cola I'd downed before we got on the train was giving me an enormous sugar rush...

Back on the train and home, where we arrived far later than we'd intended and ended up watching the new episode of Sherlock until we realised we had to get up early in the morning to get back to the airport. Sorry, Sherlock. It'll have to wait.

Well done, Qantas

At a time so early I haven't even written it in my journal, we set off for the airport. A bus and a train later and we arrived for check in. It should have been easy. Self-check-in. Done. Simples. Self-bag-drop? Not so much.

I should have known. Way back on the first day of this trip I'd had issues with EasyJet's fancy-ass self-bag-drop system and now in Sydney it was happening again on a much grander scale. This time the entire system broke down. And with all the check-in desks removed to make way for the automated system, there was very little space for the clerks to work the manual back up system. With our flight time fast approaching, we got stuck in a queue waiting while one very apologetic Qantas staff member tried to get everyone's bags scanned and sent through in time, fighting against a system that kept closing the flight because it should have left already.

Somehow, Claire ended up quite a long way behind me and I was told when I got through security that I had to get on the flight. So I sat on the plane, wondering whether she was actually going to make the flight, especially when the cabin crew asked if she was on the plane and didn't seem too bothered when I told them that she'd got delayed by the bag drop break down.

Claire ended up being the last person on the flight. Off we went to Alice Springs, quietly fuming over the mayhem. At least Qantas feed you on their flights - I was in desperate need of a calming cuppa.

On arrival at Alice Springs I collected my rucksack from the carousel and then stood and waited as all the other bags were claimed. A few other passengers were watching with the same sort of rising annoyance we were feeling. Clearly, Claire's bag hadn't made the flight. So we marched over to the service desk, where the poor clerk had no idea what had happened in Sydney and tried to reassure the growing gathering around her desk that their bags would be on the next flight.

The next flight would be the next day. We wouldn't even be in Alice the next day. Fucking hell, Qantas. Well done.

Because of the bag fiasco, we'd missed the shuttle into town and the next one wouldn't be coming in until the afternoon. We ended up sharing a taxi with an Italian couple who were in the same situation and fortunately, it turned out cheaper than the shuttle, otherwise I would've been writing angry emails to Qantas demanding some form of reimbursement for the additional cost...

With our stuff safely dumped at the hostel, we had to go on an emergency shopping trip so that Claire actually had clothes. Something else that'll need reimbursing. At least she could use my toiletries.

And then we spent the evening playing Exploding Kittens and getting attacked by mosquitoes.

Don't piss off a lady with a digging stick

Far too early in the morning we were awake again and climbing onto a nicely air-conditioned bus headed south. Some dozing later, we arrived at Erldunda, which is pretty much just a roadhouse. They do a good cooked breakfast though, which was excellent. They also have some emus, which we tried to feed.

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I say tried, because as soon as the emu pecked at the pellets in Claire's hand, the things flew everywhere and the emu just sort of stared in that stupid way they have.

From Erldunda we moved on another hour or more down the road to Mount Conner Lookout. Mount Conner is a tabletop mountain which is occasionally mistaken for Uluru by unfamiliar tourists. I can assure you, it looks nothing like Uluru.

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Ever onwards to Kata Tjuta, also known as the Olgas, an odd collection of rounded sandstone hills held sacred by the local Aboriginal groups. By this point, the temperature had hit uncomfortable levels, so I was amazed to spot some tadpoles in a puddle.

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A week or so before we arrived in the area, there had been enormous storms and torrential rain. I can only imagine that Kata Tjuta was absolutely dripping, so perhaps tadpoles aren't such a surprise. I wonder where the frogs live when it's dry?

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We took the short walk up the Valley of the Winds, trying hard not to melt and then climbed back on the bus. From Kata Tjuta, we drove back towards Uluru, where our first stop was the Cultural Centre. Fascinating little introduction to the Dreaming stories and songlines connected to Uluru and its importance for the Traditional Owners. I was also sad that there was no way I could afford any of the beautiful artwork in the craft shop.

And so onto Uluru itself. Our guide, Gerry, took us on a few walks, starting with the Mala Walk, which is tied in with the story of how the Mala people were invited to a ceremony by another tribe. Unfortunately, the Mala had already begun a ceremony of their own and once started, such things can't be stopped, so they declined. The other tribe were furious and ambushed them. The story is inextricably linked with a series of marks and gouges on the rock, which are said to represent, for example, the bodies of the fallen Mala men, the ceremonial pole they were erecting and the tracks left by the Mala women as they ran to warn the men.

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Aboriginal mythology never ceases to amaze me with how strongly it's tied into the land. It makes a hell of a lot more sense to me than most other oral traditions.

From there, we visited Mutitjulu waterhole, where the woma python woman, Kuniya, confronted the poisonous snake man, Liru, over the death of her nephew. In vengeance, she struck him with her digging stick as was her right, but then she hit him again and again until he died, which is at odds with traditional law. You can see the marks left in the rock from the force of the blows above the waterhole.

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The waterhole itself is a beautiful, quiet spot. Strange to think that not long before we visited the water was up above the platform because of all the rain.

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And then back to the carpark to have barbecue and wait for the sunset. Delicious kangaroo sausages. Not so delicious rahs who turned up just before sunset and spent all their time taking ridiculous Insta-ready photos. Claire and I had delightful fun snarking about them. By all means, come and enjoy the view, but these guys were dressed for a night out clubbing. I'm stereotyping like hell, but I got the impression none of them really appreciated how important Uluru is, they just wanted to take photos and say they'd been there.

Once the rahs got out of the way, I did manage to get some reasonable photos of the sunset. Claire had kindly brought my better camera back from the UK, but I don't think it made too much difference to how gorgeous Uluru looks in this light.

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And then back on the bus for the very long drive back to Alice Springs. Why on earth did we decide a one day trip was a good idea?

Is that flowing?

Since we didn't get back to Alice until gone 1am, we felt entirely justified in having a lie in. Once we'd grabbed some lunch, we had a mooch around town. Poked about in one of the many Aboriginal art galleries, but since we'd not left the hostel till quite late in the afternoon, we only got there just before closing. We made plans to return.

On the way back to the hostel, we stopped to take some photos of the river. The Todd River through Alice famously spends most of its time with no water in it. It had had pools when we arrived, but to our surprise, when we stopped this time it was actually flowing. In fact, it was filling - you could tell it must have rained further upriver and the water was slowly making its way down through the town. Pretty cool.

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Oh, and Claire's bag had arrived from the airport. At least you got that right, Qantas.

Snake in the hair

On our final day in Alice, we went on a mission to find some Aboriginal art that we could afford. This meant going in pretty much every gallery along the main strip before we finally found some small canvasses within our price range. And then spending forever in the gallery going through every single canvas in search of a favourite.

It was like trying to pick out a pounamu pendant in Rotorua all over again. I eventually pulled one out that I loved. Eventually. There were several others I'd quite happily have bought as well if I'd had the cash.

Art purchased, we mooched off to the Alice Springs Reptile Centre to while away the afternoon. That was great fun, especially the handling session. First up, the wriggly Gremlin, a bearded dragon.

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He didn't want to sit still with me. Apparently I wasn't tree like enough. Still, his friend Nora the Blue-Tongue was much more docile.

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And finally, Angel the Olive Python. Claire didn't want to hold her - something about ears. Her fear might have been well founded, since Angel first managed to get herself tangled through my plait and then stuck her tongue in my ear. Repeatedly.

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Riding a delightful endorphin high from getting to touch pretty animals, we headed back to the airport and hopped on our flight to Cairns. A fairly small plane - one of those funny ones with two seats on one side and three on the other, which led to the coining of the ridiculous insult "you're a lop-sided plane".

Cairns was wet. And hot. We slept.

Ooh, a neat place to finish for once. In the next installment of "weird-journal-blog-thing-what-Zoe-does-so-she-doesn't-forget-things" we're in Cairns for the Great Barrier Reef before heading off to Melbourne for... whatever it is people do in Melbourne.

There may be more penguins involved...

Australia: Christmas, caves and Claire's arrival

After leaving Tasmania behind, I'd taken up residence with my Uncle Les in Mittagong, south of Sydney, so that I could spend Christmas with family. So far we'd retrieved my grandad from the airport and visited the Blue Mountains. Somehow, I am dealing with living with two grumbly, but lovely old men.

Leftovers for tea again

A lovely, relaxed Christmas Eve morning was balanced by an afternoon drive around the area with Linda and her younger son while Uncle Les did... whatever it is that needed doing for the Christmas meal. First stop, Avon Dam, with pretty views.

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And then on to Nepean Dam, which also had lovely views and also the somewhat disconcerting sound of thunder closing in...

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Finally a quick stop at a small animal sanctuary, where the wallabies were sensibly trying to shelter from the incoming storm.

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And so came the storm. Pretty sure it's The Storm, the one that follows me around. It certainly seemed angry enough.

And then sleep. Always, sleep. Oh, and reading of that Pratchett book I picked up, which is rather good.

Merry Christmas!

There isn't a whole lot to say about Christmas. It's a big family affair with my uncle, not like the quiet thing I have at home. Still, there was enough food to last out a zombie apocalypse and Secret Santa brought me cider. All round, a pretty awesome day.

I don't think I've eaten that much since I left the UK... So stuffed.

It's not that far

On Boxing Day, Uncle Les took us to Morton National Park, where I had to deal with the ticket machine because after 5 minutes of watching my uncle and grandad struggling with it, I thought I'd best do something. Not entirely sure what they were doing wrong, but it worked first time for me...

First stop, the Echo Point lookout, over this beautiful valley.

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And then to the Wishing Well, which is clearly a man made hole in the rock and not really what I was expecting.

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Finally, a short walk down to the old Erith Coal Mine. And I mean short. The sign said something like 1.2k return. OK, so it's down a big old hill, but it's not very far.

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The mine is all shut up, but some of the props still seem to be in there.

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Apparently there used to be a railway running to the cliff edge above the mine and they'd hoist the coal up there instead of having to cart it out by the hill. The hill which we then had to climb again. The way my uncle described it afterwards, you'd think we'd walked miles...

And then Christmas leftovers for tea. This is going to become a running theme.

Do you think it likes eggs?

The following day, Linda rescued me from another day of grumbling by taking all three of us on a trip to Wombeyan Caves.

Access is via a dirt road, which initially I thought was total awesomesauce. An hour or more in, I started getting travel sick, courtesy of all the twists. Urgh. Nice. Fortunately we weren't too far from the caves and once I got out of the car I was fine. Besides, one of the first things I spotted was this goanna.

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I'm a huge Disney fan. Rescuers Down Under is one of my favourites and so of course I started stalking this goanna, calling it Joanna and asking if it wanted eggs. I don't think anyone heard me...

First stop, Victoria Arch. Pretty.

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And then on to our guided tour of Wollondilly Cave with the excellently named, somewhat insane, John Mango. Here, have a slightly out of focus photo of the prettiness inside the cave.

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And maybe another?

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It was nice and even better because it was cooler than outside and had no winged demons to bite me. Ultimately, though, I've seen more interesting caves.

And so back onto different dirt road back to civilisation. Via McDonalds where I filched the free WiFi and tried to find out when Claire was arriving on Thursday and how to get into our AirBnB. I hate being so reliant on WiFi.

And so to sleep.

Um... I have control?

On my last day in Mittagong, my uncle's brother-in-law offered to take me and my grandad on a little sightseeing flight over the area. He co-owns a small plane and teaches folks to fly, so I thought this was a great idea.

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I was not expecting to get to fly the damn thing. But a minute or two into the flight, having explained how the basic controls worked, Ken told me I could have a go. So I hesitantly confirmed that I had control and that was it.

I flew a fucking plane.

I thought it'd be for a few minutes, but I had control for the entire flight up until landing. It was both terrifying and pretty damn awesome.

This would also explain why I have precisely zero photos from the plane, but plenty of us on the ground. Look at me, looking stupid in the pilot's seat...

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She's a cool little Piper. Wouldn't mind having another go. Cheers, Ken.

Apparently nothing else on this day even came close to making an impression on me, because all my journal says after "I flew a fucking plane! :)" is "not sure what else happened here?"

I hear a Northern hemisphere accent - would you like some ice?

After my flailing with Macca's WiFi a couple of days prior, Claire had managed to text me late on the Thursday night (my time) to tell me the flight was delayed. Unfortunately, by the time I got that text, Grandad and Uncle Les had already gone to bed with the intention of getting up early to accompany me to the airport. This despite my assurance that I was more than capable of getting on the train on my own. Bless.

So we left early, drove to the station and hopped on the train. I believe my uncle was going to take my grandad into Sydney for the day, but I never got confirmation on that. I honestly thought the pair of them were going to cry when I got off the train at the airport after hugs and goodbyes and being pressed with more coffee money than I could ever need. It had been a really lovely week being surrounded by almost-familiar people instead of the constant stream of strangers you get travelling.

Still, I was going to retrieve Claire and that meant another two weeks of familiarity. Despite the delay to her flight on leaving, she arrived near enough on time and after acquiring an Opal card for her and topping up mine, we hopped on the train into the city.

I hadn't thought it through. Normally, I'm pretty good with public transport. I'd figured we'd get the train out to Lewisham, the nearest stop to our AirBnB rental and then get a bus from there.

There was no bus. Claire was melting in the 35 degree heat, which coupled with her jetlag was not great. In the end, I had to use a payphone to call a taxi, which took us the 10 minutes down the road to the AirBnB.

At this point, all should have been well. The info I had from our AirBnB host implied that someone would be home to let us into the annex. No one answered the door. For ages. So we went round the corner to a cafe so I could grab some breakfast and Claire could rehydrate. Going from freezing in the UK to melting in Australia can't have been much fun.

In the meantime, I sent a message to our host to say that we were having trouble getting in and promptly received a call back to say that her brother should be around to let us in. So we tramped back and tried again. Still no response. I even tried sticking my hand through the gate to see if I could open the lock. Apparently even my hands were not skinny enough for that.

Meanwhile, Claire's melting into a puddle in the front yard. We'd already tried the neighbours to see if they had a number for the brother, but had no luck. After a while, the neighbours appeared again, said hi and came out with a line that made my day.

"I hear a Northern hemisphere accent. Would you like some ice? And some water?"

Thank you, unnamed neighbours. Having saved Claire from completely disintegrating, I sent our host another message regarding our inability to get in and was delighted when she got straight back to me with instructions to get into the key box. More than an hour after we arrived, we finally got in.

With the day rapidly wearing away, we refreshed and caught up and then headed off to find some food. Ended up at a little Italian place at the end of the street where I had the most delicious gnocchi with gorgonzola. So good.

And then Claire passed out on the bed when we got back. Poor thing.

Of course we need funny shaped ice cubes...

With Claire feeling a bit better the following morning, we caught the bus into the city and went for a wander.

First stop, Darling Harbour, which was busy and also home to a visitor centre selling koala, kanagaroo and Australia shaped ice cube trays. With the temperature still in the 30s, we decided we might have to come back and buy them. We resisted for a while though, mooching off around the harbour with the aim of getting to the Rocks, one of the oldest parts of Sydney. Passed the Harbour Bridge on the way.

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We had a wander around the Rocks before popping into the Opera House to book a tour. Hey, we can't afford to see a show there (and I don't think we were interested in anything that was playing), so the next best thing is a tour, right?

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Then on to the Rocks Discovery Museum, which was kind of interesting and also free, which is always a bonus.

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Onwards, up to the Observatory where I geeked out about science things and we also got to go into one of the telescope domes.

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At this point, I was amazed that Claire hadn't completely collapsed from the heat and residual jetlag. I think it started kicking in on the way back to the bus stop though, when we had to stop for gelato.

And then well and truly collapsed when we got back to the AirBnb. Oh dear.

Plenty of sleep needed, because next we have New Year's Eve in Sydney to negotiate as well as Claire's birthday. A few more days in Sydney and then we're flying to Alice Springs in preparation for our trip to Uluru.

You think Sydney's hot? Ain't seen nothing yet...

Australia: Tasmania bound

Marching on with getting the blog back up to date! Here's what went on during my first week in Australia and my long-awaited return to beautiful, wild Tasmania.

Jetlag, jetlag and more jetlag

On my first full day in Australia, having slept most of the previous day and remarkably well overnight, I dragged myself to the cafe just across from the hostel, had a nice healthy breakfast and dragged myself back. I had every intention of exploring. After all, I was staying in Bondi and even though I didn't fancy the crowds, I thought I should at least check out the beach.

As it was, I spent the day reading, writing and feeling a bit grotty. How delightful. I dragged myself back to the cafe to pick up some tea and that was it. No exploring. Nothing. Still, I did at least take a couple of photos. Here's the view from the hostel roof.

Not Bondi Beach, but pretty.

I also discovered, much to my annoyance, that the shuttle run by the hostel started later in the morning than I needed it. The buses were also going to be unhelpful. Which meant I had to book another taxi to return me to the airport. Ugh.

HI, TASSIE!

While there is a note in my journal that reads HI TASSIE, it's preceded by a lot of grumbling about the fact that I had to get up at 3am, because I had to get all my stuff together and stumble out to wait for what I knew would be another over-priced taxi.

When the friendly taxi driver dropped me off at Sydney's domestic terminal just after 4am, most of the airport wasn't even open. I had a fight with Jetstar's self-check-in, got the lady at the counter to fix it and then settled down with an enormous cup of tea to wait for the security area to open up. This is what I get for booking the first flight out of Sydney.

Of course, security did eventually get going, I toddled through and plonked myself down near my gate with one of those handy sockets they've started putting in airports so I could get some charge on the tablet.

And then my gate got changed because one of the crew was ill. Which is fine, but I had to tramp all the way to the other end of the terminal. It wasn't even 6am. My brain really wasn't in the mood.

Oh well. I'd been organised and paid for breakfast on the plane, so I nibbled a chocolate muffin and enjoyed another cup of tea as Tasmania slowly hove into view out of the window.

I love Tasmania. I studied there for a year when I was doing my degree and fell head over heels for it. It's quiet, it's wild and it has the most amazing wildlife. So despite it still being far too early according to my jetlagged brain, I was strangely chirpy when I finally arrived in Hobart.

In the interests of preserving my somewhat ragged brain function, I opted for another laid back day. First stop, a stroll out to Sandy Bay to see if I could locate my old student house, via lovely Salamanca.

The mission was a success, but given that the house is clearly no longer a student house and there were people working in the garden, I didn't dare take a photo. Shame. Still, I followed up that wandering with a trip to Banjos, which is possibly my favourite cafe in the world. They specialise in pies and they are delicious.

And then I spent the rest of the afternoon lazing around the hostel, saying hi to the hostel's dogs and trying to work out what I was going to do with my time in Tasmania. For the first time on this trip, I'd really let go of my need to plan things ages in advance. I had 5 nights booked in Hobart and that was it. For me, this was somewhat terrifying, but, well, I got used to it...

But I want to walk...

First thing on my list of things to do in Tassie was to go up Mount Wellington. It overlooks Hobart and I saw it every day from my house but never went up it while I lived there. I solved that by taking the free hostel shuttle up on the Monday morning.

Gorgeous views from the top, despite a few clouds. I'd fully intended to walk down. God knows how I did it - whether I'd slept funny or maybe slung my rucksack over my shoulder a bit too enthusiastically - but my back had been playing silly buggers all morning. I thought I'd be all right once I got moving, but as soon as I started wandering around at the summit, it hurt. Like hell. So I hopped back into the shuttle feeling annoyed. Maybe I would have been OK, but I really didn't like the thought of getting part way down the mountain and being in that much pain.

Instead I had yet another lazy afternoon, which was getting boring. Eventually I managed to lever myself out of the lounge and went in search of a new pair of sunnies, given that my current pair had just completely disintegrated after nearly 6 months on the road.

Be amazed, people who know me. I not only bought a new pair of sunglasses, I also bought a nice sundress. I figure I'll be needing it in the heat.

And then I made another failed attempt at bloggery. Good god, I'm getting bad at this.

Booking galore

After visiting somewhere new on the Monday, on the Tuesday I decided to revisit one of my favourite places in Hobart, the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery (TMAG). It's free entry, which helps. It's also had a major overhaul since I was living there, with a whole new gallery space and a big redesign on the old galleries.

Unfortunately, the old galleries were closed for redisplay, so I had to make do with the new ones. I wasn't disappointed. There are some fascinating little things in there, going back to the early days when Tasmania was a major destination for the convict ships. There's also a great new exhibition about the impact that colonisation (or invasion) had on the Aboriginal population, especially interesting since Tasmania is the only state where the native people were near enough wiped out.

From the museum, I stopped by the tourist info centre and then spent the rest of my afternoon booking trips galore - Bonorong Wildlife Park, Bruny Island, Wineglass Bay and Cradle Mountain. The next few days looked set to be pretty busy.

Whale farming?

First stop of the day - Bonorong Wildlife Park, another place I wanted to revisit. Bonorong is a rescue centre as much as anything, taking in injured wildlife with the aim of rehabilitating and releasing. They have a lovely little collection, like this beautiful young wombat, who slept through everyone patting her bum.

And Fred the cockatoo, who will be living out his days at Bonorong as an ex-pet. I had a rather one sided conversation with him, since all he says is "hello, Fred."

Fun fact: because Fred was a pet, they know how old he is and he's over 100. Cockatoos are known to be long lived, but still, that's pretty impressive. Friendly old chap.

My favourites at Bonorong though are the roos. These guys aren't for release, so you get to feed them. Surprisingly gentle, but very persistent. They will hang onto your hand so you can't leave and anyone silly enough to lower the bag will have it taken from them.

Following on from the lovely, laid back atmosphere at Bonorong, I visited MONA. That's the Museum of Old and New Art and it is bizarre. The collection is a hodge podge of mainly modern pieces, although I did find some cuneiform tablets and a print of The Great Wave Off Kanagawa.

Half of the collection seems to be NSFW. Like the wall of plaster cast genitals...

Basically, MONA is interesting as a one off thing, but it's not somewhere I'd be hurrying back to. And this is coming from someone who appreciates weird. MONA feels like it's just there to get a reaction out of people. It's almost shallow.

Anyways, moving on from my half-hearted critique of MONA, I spent the evening trying to be social. This wasn't too hard - I got chatting to a couple of folks at the hostel. All was going well until I had to explain to one of them that whale farming isn't a thing. Oh god. And then I overheard someone saying she hadn't realised that Scandinavia wasn't a country.

At this point my brain pulled a big fat nope on me, which is probably a good thing because otherwise I would've despaired at the lack of general knowledge around me.

I went to bed and read some of my Terry Pratchett instead.

My brain is fried

Early on Thursday morning, I dashed out the last few words onto my NaNoWriMo project. Oh yeah... NaNo. I haven't mentioned that for a while. Not since I spent all week on Chiloe writing ALL THE WORDS. As it is, I ended the month with 117, 381 words, which is a new record for me. On the downside, it completed frazzled my brain, so it's probably a good thing that I planned to spend the day sitting back and letting someone else do the thinking.

The minibus came by just after 7am and then we were off on our way to Bruny Island, another place I'd never got round to visiting when I lived in Tassie. First stop, Kettering to hop on the short ferry ride over the D'Entrecasteaux Channel.

Then swiftly on to a honey farm for delicious sweet things.

And onwards to Cape Bruny and its convict built lighthouse. Gorgeous views. The next land south of this point is Antarctica. That might explain the somewhat chilly breeze.

The lizards didn't seem to be too bothered though.

From there we headed across South Bruny to a berry farm for lunch. I'd brought mine with me but that didn't stop me from indulging in a delicious slice of baked berry cheesecake. There is no before shot...

Lovely little beach just across the road, with a lovely view over Adventure Bay. Stupid selfie time, I decided.

At this point, we took a break from eating delicious things and instead went in search of the famous Bruny Island white wallabies. These guys aren't actually albino - they're just an unusual colour morph. And we did find one, hiding in someone's garden. Bad photo is bad.

Wallaby sighted, we headed back on the food trail. Next stop, cheese, my favouritest food in the world and something I've been missing since I left the UK. The Bruny Island Cheese Co more than made up for it. Delicious strong cheeses that actually taste of something, plus a delicious quince jelly and fresh bread.

Om nom nom. My delight was somewhat lessened by the next stop at the Get Shucked oyster farm. I've never had an oyster before. I like mussels. I was hoping it would be similar.

Nope. Maybe if they were cooked, they'd be fine, but raw oysters are not something I want to try again in a hurry. Yuck.

Stuffed full of delicious (and not-so-delicious) food, we headed back to Hobart, where I spent a delightful evening discussing Terry Pratchett with a French chap at the hostel. I even managed to part myself from the Pratchett book I'd picked up in Canada months back in exchange for a different one from Fabien. I'm not letting go of my other Pratchett in a hurry - a friend gave me it as a leaving present when I first came to Tasmania 6 years ago and it's somehow survived 6 months on the road with me. A bit battered, but otherwise doing well.

Death to snoring

On my final day in Hobart I returned to the Tasmanian Museum to check out the galleries which had been closed earlier in the week. They've changed a bit since I lived there. Bit of updating been going on.

Still full of interesting little bits and bobs. And the Antarctic gallery hasn't changed a bit, which meant I spent far too long trying to melt my handprint into the ice block. Like a child.

In the afternoon, I hopped onto a bus up to Launceston, Tasmania's second city. It scarcely qualifies as a city, but since there's only half a million folks in Tassie, I suppose it's relative.

Tramping the half mile from the bus station to my hostel, I had to chase my hat across the road. That was as exciting as my day got until about 10pm at which point... well...

It started off with people turning the lights on and off with no regard for the folks trying to sleep. And then someone started snoring. Not just the little bouts that most people have when they snore. Constant snoring. I kept expecting the guy to wake himself up with it, but no.

And then someone else started. Good god. And he too wasn't stopping.

I needed to get up at 6am to go on my daytrip. I was not impressed. To the point that I very nearly got out of bed and shook them both awake just so I could get some sleep.

I really wish I had, because in the event I was too much of a wuss and spent the rest of the night with earplugs in and my head buried under the pillow. Ugh.

There goes week 1 in Tasmania. Week 2 holds much promise, with trips planned to Wineglass Bay and Cradle Mountain before I head over to the West Coast for the first time. Admittedly, the promise of the West Coast is rain, but I'm a Brit. I can handle that.

Maybe I'll get to see a snake...

The Grand Tour: Whistlestop Australia

Claire, veteran of both the New Zealand and Ireland trips, is joining me for a couple of weeks in Australia over the New Year. This is going to be wonderful and will make a nice change from travelling alone for a while (although I am also hoping to spend Christmas with relatives).

Now that flights are booked, the fun bit of planning can start. I.e. what are we going to do with those 2 weeks? How much of Australia can you see in that time?

This is all rather bounded by the flights that Claire was able to get. It's worked out that we've got 5-6 days in Sydney over New Year, 2/3 days in Alice Springs, 2/3 days in Cairns and 4/5 days in Melbourne. The confusion over numbers of days is because I'm not certain how much time we'll lose because of flights and whatnot.

However, I can safely say that we've got plenty of time in Sydney and Melbourne. Alice Springs and Cairns we'll have to be a bit more organised with our time to make sure we get the most out of it.

I figure there's a fair number of folks who go to Australia for relatively short holidays - 2 or 3 weeks - since that's all a lot of companies let employees take off in one go, plus Oz is expensive. So, here's a very short list of must-do things in Oz which are very much doable in 2 weeks.

1. New Year in Sydney

OK, so this is clearly time dependent, but if you get the chance New Year in Sydney is amazing. Claire and I will be joining the festivities, even more so because New Year's Eve is also Claire's birthday. Someone remind me to find her something awesome... But just picture it: thousands of people thronging the harbour-side, fireworks going off every hour all the way down the river and at midnight that iconic display of fireworks going off over the famous Harbour Bridge. Yep. Pretty awesome.

2. Uluru-Kata-Tjuta National Park

Uluru, formerly more commonly known as Ayer's Rock, is perhaps Australia's most famous landmark, a hulking red monolith looming out of the desert. It is as stunning as the tourist boards make it out to be and the history and culture that surrounds it is fascinating. Nearby Kata-Tjuta, also known as the Olgas, is a similar site and also well worth visiting.

3. The Great Barrier Reef

Need I say more? The largest biological construction (not an organism. Many organisms) on the planet, the reef teems with life and, weather permitting, there's a good chance you'll see something interesting.

4. The Great Ocean Road

Lots of "greats" in this list! The Great Ocean Road does what it says on the tin - it's a road that follows the ocean between Melbourne and Adelaide and it's pretty great. Built after the Second World War to provide work for returned servicemen, it's a beautiful drive and there's a chance of spotting a whole assortment of Australia's quirky wildlife. I think I remember seeing koalas when I took a trip down part of it...

5. Daintree Rainforest

The Daintree is a fragment of one of the most ancient rainforests on the planet and is hugely biodiverse. As someone who studied ecology at university, this is enough to make it amazing even without the beautiful views and the equally awesome wildlife. It's also easily accessible from Cairns, so great for a day trip. Onto the list it goes!


For 2 weeks, I think that's enough highlights. Our only real problem so far has been finding accommodation in Sydney over New Year at a reasonable price. For this, I eventually turned to AirBnB and Claire managed to find a lovely little studio for us to stay in which has cost less than half what it would if we had settled for a hostel, let alone a hotel. So, yes, it's a bit out of the centre, but Sydney has reasonable public transport. In addition, the owner informs us that there's lots of Italian restaurants and some amazing gelato to be had nearby. Bring on the food!

If you had only 2 weeks to see Australia's highlights, where would you go and what would you do? Let me know in the comments!

The Grand Tour: New Year Down Under

Fabulous news! My friend Claire, veteran of both the New Zealand and Ireland expeditions, is planning on joining me for a couple of weeks in Australia over New Year. Also, incidentally, her birthday.

This is going to be good. Sydney's an amazing city and New Year there is just as brilliant. Well, it should be if it's anything like the last time I was there...

Also, Sydney's a good starting point for a couple of weeks in Australia. We can relax and explore the city for a couple of days before heading off to see Oz's highlights. Claire can get over the jet lag and I can enjoy having someone to share the travel fun with for a bit.

So, what should we do in Sydney? The New Year celebrations are the obvious choice and it seems like an awesome way for Claire to spend her birthday (also on New Year's Eve), but aside from that, Sydney has plenty to offer. Taronga Zoo is great and I'd really love to check out the beaches, just because it seems like the thing to do in Sydney! Bondi, anyone?

Last time I was in Sydney we only had a couple of days over the New Year, so we didn't really get chance to do all the exploring. I think the most we did was going up one of the towers on the famous Harbour Bridge. Don't think I'll be forking out to climb the bridge itself though...

There's plenty of museums, galleries and parks to check out and even the possibility of seeing whales without ever getting on a boat, courtesy of some amazing views from the coast. Oh, so many choices and still so little time - if Claire's going to see the highlights of Australia like the Great Barrier Reef and Uluru, we won't be spending that long in Sydney.

And here we hit a bit of a snag. Sydney's great. New Year there is great. Accommodation costs... not so much. The first hostel I looked at wanted to charge £100 per person to stay on New Year's Eve and it wasn't much cheaper on the days either side. Others weren't much better - anything up to £80 seems standard.

So I started trawling the hotels instead and yes, some of these would be as good or better than a hostel for about the same price. I suggested to Claire that it might be an idea to take this option instead and, given that she'll have a nearly 24 hour flight, she agreed.

That would have been that had I not then remembered Airbnb. I wasn't planning on explaining what Airbnb is, but Claire didn't seem to know, so I'll assume it's not as well known as I thought it was. Airbnb is a system where folks can rent out spare rooms or even entire homes to others. I'd expected this to be fairly expensive for Sydney over New Year, but I've found some really decent places for a relatively low price. Certainly better value than a hostel or hotel.

So yes, the places I've looked at are a bit further out of the centre, but Sydney has a decent public transport system and I'm willing to make that trade off. After all, much as I want to have an amazing New Year in Sydney, I still have a budget to stick to and I'll take savings where I can find them.

Where do you dream of spending New Year? Do you have any suggestions for visiting Sydney on a budget? Why not share in the comments below.