Australia: Crocodile Hunter-less

The Australian leg of the trip almost didn't happen. Presenting ourselves at the Qantas (Queensland And Northern Territory Air Service) check-in at Christchurch Airport our passports were swiped and found sadly lacking in the Australian Visa area. Ah.

Having done no research into Australia, or even investing in a basic information pamphlet meant that we were 100% unaware of the fact that a visa was necessary (an attitude hangover from the Colonial heyday obviously). Luckily as we now have the new fancy biometric passports we could purchase the visa at the airport and have them digitally scanned on to the passports. So "thank you" to the thieving Ecuadorian bastard who relieved us of our old style ones.

So, another minor crisis averted we were on our way to Australia. I struck up a nice rapport with a flight attendant, so he made sure my champagne glass was never empty and stuffed a box of chocolates into my bag when disembarking in Sydney. Result!

The next day it didn't really sink in that I was in Australia until I coughed my first glimpse of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Opera House. It was just the kind of day you'd expect Down Under: sunny and delightful despite it being the end of their winter. We took a ferry out to Manly and sat on the beach watching the rather lackluster surfers bobbing up and down without any apparent intention of riding or catching or whatever it is that you you do with waves. Perhaps they were the wrong sort of waves, what do I know anyway? That night we met up with Liz, our new pal from the Galapagos boat, at the Opera House Bar, watching the hordes flying foxes flapping around over the Harbour Bridge as we flapped our jaws.

The next morning we climbed said Bridge, which was not nearly as scary as I thought it would be. Quick Bridge Fact Blast for you:
* 6 million rivets hold it together
* The Opera House is times as heavy as the Bridge, despite only being half its' size
* It was known as the "Iron Lung" of Sydney as it kept so many people employed during the Depression years
* Only 16 people died during construction (I ask morbid questions). During the construction of the Brooklyn Bridge, which took place at round about the same time, 27 workers lost their lives. So in your FACE Depression-era American Bridge Health and Safety Standards! Seriously though, you'd think it would be more wouldn't you?Once we'd clambered down and got out of the frankly ridiculous jumpsuits they make you wear we hopped on a flight to Melbourne and into the arms of our hosts Ox & Kate. Melbourne is a very architecturally diverse city with more public art per square meter than I have ever seen. My favourite building was Council House 2, a completely self-sustaining building. Those tube things on the outside are for collecting rain water to cool the building. I found this very groovy. Melbourne is also a city dedicated to food, drink and sport, especially drink. The entice populace seemed to be utterly slaughtered by 7:30pm on a Friday night.

Ox very kindly sacrificed his usual football (soccer) spectating to take us to a Footy (Aussie Rules) game: St Kilda Vs The Western Bulldogs at the Telsta Dome (capacity 47,000). I was supporting St Kilda because A) I was told to, and B) they had the most attractive outfits. Most of the British Readership will have seen at some point this marvelously violent and chaotic game on TV, but honestly, there is at least 20 times more violence and chaos going on when you see it live. Mayhem. The pitch is a MASSIVE oval, there are easily 50 people on the pitch at any given time, only 36 of which are legitimate players. Once you've factored in the referees, linesmen, coaches, first aid people and water boys who can apparently just mill about and disrupt play you really don't know where to look!The levels of gore during play have calmed down somewhat since the 1980s but there is still enough argy-bargy and jumper-punching going on to satisfy you if you're into such things... Just look at this psycho: Star Nutter for St. Kilda, Fraser Gehrig. He still looks hard as nails despite wearing lycra hotpants. The shorts are worn that skimpy and tight to avoid them being pulled down during rough tackles. Excuse me, I think I need to go and splash some cold water on my face...
I completed my Footy experience by having a "Four and Twenty" pie. On the packaging it claims it is a "meat" pie. I didn't pluck up the courage to read the ingredients list, but hey, I ate one and I never have to do it again.

Next day, despite cumulative hangovers we drove out to the Yarra Valley for some wine tasting. To be fair, Kate drove and watched the 3 of us drink wine - thanks again Kate, very much appreciated! Taking her hostessing duties to the next level Kate had a very special activity in store for us: penguin chasing! not actual chasing you understand, because that would be cruel. Instead we just shone torchlight in their faces, subjected them to flash photography and generally disturbed their peace. Kate is a trained and responsible penguin-botherer though, so it was all above board.

An unseemly early flight took us out of Ox & Kate's hair and on to Ayers Rock. I'm not being culturally insensitive: the airport is called Ayers Rock, the actual "rock" is Uluru, OK? I think the pilot on that flight had been sent to special Australian Quaintness School as in his short pre-flight chat to the passengers he managed to use the words "beaut", "dinkum" and "no worries". No "cobber" though which was a disappointment.
Obviously the huge red monolith is very impressive and full of cultural and religious significance for the Anangu people, but I still don't see why that makes it OK to charge $60 for the cheapest bloody buffet dinner at the resort. Just saying. The anangu don't like tourists to climb Uluru and encourage you not to. You can see their point: would you think it's appropriate to absail down the Wailing Wall or do a double pike dive into the waters at Lourdes? Instead we walked around the base which was good enough for me. You get to appreciate its size, texture and real shape this way. I had always thought it was a smooth loaf shape, not so. Still had to touch it just once though, so many apologies to any Anangu people who may read this...

At the Silence under the Stars dinner we watched the sunset over Uluru and Kata Tjuta (aka the Olgas) to the sounds of the didgeridoo played by some white bloke claiming to be aboriginal. I think he was using the same logic process that half the population of Boston uses to claim that they are Irish. Saw my first kangaroo that night - in an appetizer. Delicious, unlike crocodile which is surprisingly bland (lacked bite.. oh forget it). After dinner and astronomer talked us through the star constellations, fascinating stuff. I got a bit misty-eyed and emotional when he pointed out that what I had thought was a light cloud in the sky way actually the Milky Way.

The next stop was Queensland and the Tropical Escape B&B in Mission Beach. The lavish and extensive website suggested and exclusive mini-hotel but was in actual fact a Homestay at Dot and Bill's place where they had converted 3 ensuite bedrooms into guest rooms. It was very nice, don't get me wrong, but it was more like staying with a friend's Auntie: trying not to make too much noise, making sure not to leave the towels on the floor and offering to help with the washing-up.

Had planned for a couple of days relaxing on the beach with a book, but the weather had other ideas. Went for an aimless drive instead (PARTY!) and came across a cassowary and her chick. These are big shaggy flightless birds, a bit like an emu but with a multi-coloured Mohawk and lethal massive claws on their feet. They are endangered: only 1200 left in Australia so were happy to have seen them, but also not a little scared even in the car as they look HARD and have a reputation for being testy. Took a beachside rainforest walk that afternoon. I was already a little spooked by the signs saying "DANGER - CROCODILES" and warning you to stay away from the water's edge, so when there was a crashing in the undergrowth and an enormous cassowary within feet of us I called time on the nature walk.

On to Airlie Beach where we had planned to do a "live aboard" sailing trip around the Whitsundays for 3 days. Unfortunately that area of Queensland was suffering from an unusual weather pattern, that in layman's terms is known as "shit". The whole town was just full of bars with glum faces peering out at the sky trying to will along a patch of blue. Not ideal conditions for the open water so sacked off the live aboard. Luckily the afore mentioned Liz was also there with her boyfriend Ben so we managed to have a good time despite the weather and not exactly fitting in with the 18 year old crowd at Paddy Shenanigans and the wet t-shirt competitions. Did a day trip out to a dead section of the Barrier Reef (thanks for nothing FantaSea!) and another one to Whitehaven Beach which was glorious - softest sand I have ever felt.

Back to Sydney for a couple of nights, just enough time to do some admin and meet up with another face from the Galapagos, Vicki. The night ended up like this
so as you can imagine the 4:15am start the next day to catch the flight to the Philippines felt less than special. Top fun though!

I know we only saw a small fraction of Australia and came at a bad time of year but I don't feel any strong compulsion to return, unlike so many people I know who can't wait to move there permanently. Didn't see a koala, but did eventually see a kangaroo. Dead, upside down in a ditch. Ho hum.