Grande Buddah and the joys of Dim Sum

We arrived in Hong Kong late afternoon the following day, and were suprised to find ourselves feeling a little jet lagged after a mere 3 hour time shift. Once safely ensconsed in our hotel room we summoned the energy to go out for a little explore, and seek sustinence. As mum had been to Hong Kong a whopping 6 times before she was appointed tour guide, and we were off. Throughout my travels one of my favourite aspects of visiting a new place is trying the food, even when its horrible (think Argentina) it at least provides good anecdotal material. So I was disappointed when that first night we ended up in the spaghetti house chowing down on pasta.
However, my disappointment was tempered the next morning when we were up nice and early to go and play on the cable cars and visit Big Buddah. First we had to procure an Octopus card (like Oyster card) for the underground. Despite the fact that most people in Hong Kong speak English we decided to embellish our asking with much miming of Octopi. We had also learned how to sign 'toilet' in Chinese writing in case of emergency. See, we are such well prepared travelling fiends, adapatable to any situation.
The Buddah, and the 25 minute two way awesome skyride, were fabulicious. Plus off with even more awesomeness when we found a massive rooster statue to take photos with. We also walked the wisdom walk, and are now very wise. Mmm wise...
We topped it off with well yummy potato filled rolls, which sounds wrong but were super awesome. After that we hit the ladies market, where I had to be restrained from buying all kinds of over-priced rubbish.
And then, that night... the truth about Chinese food came out. Some friends of mum's had kindly asked if we would like to go out for dinner for traditional Chinese and I enthusiastically agreed. However, if seems that the tastiness of English Chinese was added on its crossing over the sea as Chinese in China largely resembles sea slugs. Lots of them. Actually the duck was good, but everything else definately had a hint of slug. The other problem with Asia is that manners dictate you politely partake in all you are offered, which is how we ended up having Dim Sum the following day. If anything this was worse, as the food was like giant spider eggsacks filled with fluid. One of which managed to prompt an allergic reaction in me and mum seeing us closely resembling Lesley Ash the following day. Mmm... delish. It has to be said though that the lovely Chinese couple who took it upon themselves to show us round were fabulously good hosts to us, and definately ensured we got a tste of the real Hong Kong.
ANYWAY... aside from the Dim Sum the following day was spent looking at a traditional Chinese village (very poor, very cramped), followed by a nice contrasting visit to a walled community in the New Territories which was absolutely beautiful and very spacious. The contrast between rich and poor was actually quite reminicent of the social divide I witnessed in Brazil. We also visited a wish tree, a chinese tradition which involves throwing plastic oranges into trees. Muchus fun. Mum is rubbish at throwing plastic oranges, fact.
That evening we were all traditional Chinesed out and so it was up the touristy but gorgeous peak, con ride on Star Ferry (octopusing again) for the best margarita's of our lives and a steak so rare it was mooing.... bliss. Oh and then a whole bottle of wine and a slightly tipsy journey back to the hotel.
The next day Mum was flying back to Blighty in the evening so we had something of a relaxed day. We ferried over to Hong Kong island to be once again defeated in our search for a cup of tea, and to look at the road that only sold bathrooms. Followed by a perambulate around the most confusing, alphabetically-ordered shopping centre of mystery in the World. Another trip to ladies market made the wares seem no better made, and then we were back to the hotel for a nap, sadly sin hammock this time. The evening saw us eating in the hotel before I bid goodbye to mum for the duration of our respective flights home, and then treated myself to a nice relaxing 2 hour gym session.
And the final morning of my nine month adventure dawned. Which is just crazy because it felt both as if I had been away for a lifetime, and yet also for about 2 weeks. Luckily I was distracted by eating enough buffet style breakfast for 8 and so wasn't too sad for my final airport transfer.
Before I knew it the 11 hour flight had (literally) flown by and I was back in Heathrow. Naturally queuing for longer than all other border crossing combined. Ah home. How I missed you.

Third time Sydney...

And once again I found myself back in the Australian not- capital. It has to be said, by this point I had grown incredibly fond of Sydney, and while my favourite state would have to be QLD without a shadow of a doubt I think I would rate Sydders as my favourite city. And my favourite activity, the botanical gardens, visiting and perambulating thereof. As the weather had been so shocking last time we were Sydneyside Mum and I hadn't made it to the gardens yet, so it was clearly a must-do for our second visit. But before that we had much else to do! That first day back saw a return visit to Darling Harbour to sample to culture (read beer), but not a return to the Opera House where we had been charged £4 for a cup of tea on our previous visit! That evening brought two firsts- Mum's first experience of a cyber cafe (mmm... futuristic and rip- offish), and the inability of two Wale women to find pizza. Yep, Sydney city centre is a pizza free zone! Hilariously however, as we searched, the skies once again opened and made the pavement into a skating rink as on of us hadn't changed out f our Hamilton Island shoes. Safely back at the hotal we bowed defeat and ordered room service. Yeah, we got our pizza in the end.
The next morning I finally got a sunny enough day to show off the much beloved Botanical Gardens and so we were off on a mammoth explore of Mrs Maquiries everything (bit of a Sydney in-joke there), including a trip on the DOTTO TRAIN!! Now some of you may know this isn't my first trip away with my mother, and several years ago we went on an awesome trip to Sorrento and the surrounds. Now in Sorrento there is a little train which shows off the cliffside to tourists, and obviously after several Limonchello shots we decided this was a good idea. As you may by now have guessed, Sydney has a similar attraction in the gardens. And so filled with bacon sandwiches this time, we were off flying fox spotting on the tourist train. I'm actually thinking of making it into a book... dotto trains the world over...
The other touristy thing in the Gardens I had yet to do was visit the Governor's House, a relic of when the Australians were ruled properly (ie.by the British). I was actually quite looking forward to seeing inside the house as I had only so far been chased through the gardens by an overweight security guard. The tour of the house didn't disappoint in terms of entertainment value, unfortunately however the source of the entertainment was more in mocking the tour experience than actual educational benifit. From the woman who insisted we leave our handbags in case we weild them like samurai swords during the course of the tour, to the guide (Ray, con ear hair, sin sense of humour) who has perfected the perfect murdering technique of boring his victims to death (at least 4 people died during the tour), to the EXACT SAME woman who we collected our bags from on the way out who genuinely tried to find me a Louis Vuitton when I was asked to describe the bag I had been foreced to leave. Frankly the day in the gardens was a success though, and we were pleased the weather had come out nice enough to do it.
And the final Sydney day was spent heading to the Blue moutains, where we were lucky enough to be able to spend some time with Ray's equally boring, more rotund brother in the form of our Bus driver. But only after we had driven around the city literally three times (the tip off comes when an HOUR after you were picked up you drive past your hotel again). The day trip included some time in an animal sanctuary so mum was finally able to see a kangaroo, and, more importantly a BILBY! It even offered an opportunity to get our animal passports stamped. Yeah, just as well I didn't have my real passport with me or I'd have definitely have stamped that too. And then once at the Mountains we had an excellent day at the national park- seeing the eventual hour and a half we had there as a challenge to see everything (yep... we ran around the 50 minute walk in under 30) and it was so worth it. Plus we also got to se some more places Queen Liz stood aaages ago, which we hadn't seen any of for almost 24 hours. Also that was the day we were introduced to the miracle that is a double shot of expresso blended with Vanilla Ice Cream. Try it now, thank me later.
The final day we were up at very early o'clock to shimmy on to the airport... Back into Asia, Hong Kong here we come!

The Sundays of Whit; A Royal visit to Hamilton Island

We arrived into Hamilton Island with yet another experience of the airport- shuttle of death behind us and were delighted to find ourselves enjoying beautiful tropical sunshine. The airport was of similar size as the one on the Galapagos, but with the distinct advantage of English speaking staff to inform you that you would be able to collect your luggage from the back of a truck outside the terminal building.
Day one was primarily occupied with having a bit of a nosy around the resort and the 'town'. Not so much a town as an extension of the hotel seeing as the entire island is owned by one company and you can therefore charge anything you buy in the local shops to your room. Once we were all moved into our accommodation (Bungalow 17, doncha know), a scout of the pools and facilities was well in order before we decided to give in to the luxurious surroundings and booked ourselves a dinner cruise for our last night on the island. Well... when in Rome.
That night we decided to sample the best of the French cuisine on offer with a tipple and fabulous meal in one of the rather snazzy waterfront eateries. Here we had our one and only experience of good Australian customer service during the whole two week holiday. Obviously the waitress was American. We also experienced an absolutely fabulous thunderstorm, with dramatic Blakesque lightening illuminating the sky. We had actually been very disappointed when, after 3 days in a continuously rainy Sydney, the weather forecast for Hamilton was for rain. But this was some seriously awesome weather, and luckily the only precipitation we saw during our 3 day luxuriate.
The next day, clear sky a go go, we headed for the pool. After we'd had breakfast in the company of several koalas, of course. That's how you know food is good quality- its like the kite mark for breakfast. During my time in Oz I couldn't help but notice that the Australians are somewhat casual about the appearance of Sol; noone downunder really feels the need to remove all their clothes and lay in the weakest rays of light like the sun-starved Brits are wont to do. The pool was reflective of this. And also the fact that Hamilton Island resort hadn't provided sun umbrellas so lying by the pool for long isn't seriously an option. The plus side to this was that we immediately got sun loungers, the downside was that we couldn't keep our pasty selves out of the harmful rays long enough to hang on much past lunchtime. Plan 'A' defeated and we were off on the island loop bus tour. Hamilton island is actually quite small, and we made our way around the majority of the inhabited area within about 40 mins. The scenery was breathtaking, and we were torn between being excited by that and the news imparted by the woman behind us that HRH Wills was on the island. Naturally we were invited to dine with the future king that night, but we already had better plans- and it was off to the shops to purchase Doritos and beer, theoretically to be enjoyed on the porch con hammock (yes, I did manage to get mum in the hammock, and needless to say she now irrefutably agrees with me- life in a hammock is just better). However, we hadn't banked upon quite such an enthusiastic showing of the native Ozzy wildlife when at the first crackle of a crisp packet being opened a Hichcockian flock of cockatoos (locally referred to as 'galahs') descended upon us in a way that could only be descibed as predatory. Eventually we were forced to cede our territory and retreated back inside the bungalow to finish the beer and crisps.
A good amount of hammock based reading/ napping time later (I was SO in need of a break after all that stressful travelling and amazingness) and the black pit that is my stomach was ready to be fuelled again. Down to the docks for fish and chips, where we were given a pager that would tell us when our food was ready (I know this isn't really a phenomenon anymore, but I was entertained by it. A pager... for fish and chips! How posh are we?!). The great British classic was good, and always tastes better sea front adjacent as we were, but noone does it quite like Blighty.
Our final day I tested out my sailing bravado by taking out one of the resort's single man catamarans- having a ridiculously enjoyable time out on the ocean wave. The afternoon saw us have a bash at that Great Barrier Reef snorkeling lark, but close to the island there was little to be seen and the resort staff informed us that to see the really good fishes we really needed to dive. But as we were sin PADI Quals, and off on our very posh dinner cruise that night which would be visiting the Great Barrier Reef, we weren't hugely concerned.
And the Dennison Star Cruise didn't disappoint. In fact it turned out to be rather entertaining as had my annual abortive attempt to be ladylike and ended up covered in a mayonnaise, and the wind soon ensured we both closely resembled the much feted galahs! We were joined by a friendly Ozzy couple for dinner, for which mum and I both opted for kangaroo steak (highly recommended- we likes it raw and wriggling precious!), and the night was just perfected by the gorgeous sunset and the breathtaking stars that followed (you can see more stars with the naked eye in Oz than anywhere else in the world!).
And sadly, the next day it was bye bye Bungalow 17 and off on a jet plane to Sydders (Wills did offer us his Leer Jet, but we don't like to draw that kind of attention to ourselves), but not before a marathon breakfast at the hotel in order to properly ensure our moneys worth. Yes, 3 breakfasts in a row is achievable if you're wondering.

This is not just any island... this is Prince William approved, sun drenched beaches, Hamilton Island

Back to Sydney (aka. bring out the clowns)

I had only three days alone in Sydney, post-NZ, before being joined by my mum for the final leg of my big trip. Those three days were mostly spent relaxing (ie. celebrating St Patricks Day), and trying to find the hotel we would be relocating to upon parental arrival (not an especially difficult task unless you have a green food-colouring related hangover). While normally quite the intrepid backpacker I was delighted by a) mum's imminent arrival and b) the relocation to a hotel. This was only in part the result of having become stony broke some 2 weeks previously and having been eating only baked beans and Weet Bix (no typo, in Oz it is Weet Bix. Seriously. Weet Bix) since then. Mainly it was because I had missed Lindy and was excited for our holiday!
After a traumatic airport transfer/ welcome to Sydney experience for the parental unit we were off on our first holiday day with several giant cups of coffee. Having opted for something of a relaxed day to get ourselves into the swing of things we spent day one mainly exploring the city centre. This included a visit to the Rocks (oldest part of Sydney) and its free museum, where mum found a free interactive game for children which she played on for several hours, depriving any poor kiddies in the locale. The evening proved irrefutably that food was a) expensive and b) hard to find in the city centre. A theme that was to become reccuring during our stay!
The next day we were off on a harbour tour, during which we got to experience the delights of Australian weather first hand with gorgeous sunshine, oh no wait, thats right POURING RAIN. It turned out to muchus fun none the less as mum spent the duration of the voyage harassing all the Germans onboard. Frankly I was ashamed of her, our Deutch friends were nothing but well- behaved and courteous as far as I was concerned. Not once stepping on our feet or disrupting everyones view. The tour in itself was very nice, we learned that everything is called after the Macquiries, and where Russell Crowe lives. That afternoon we returned to the Rocks for another taste of Oztastic customer service, who knew Australian was a foreign language? Well, it certainly seemed that way when looking for service with a smile. In order to wreak our revenge we relocated to the nearest market where muchus fun was had trying on masks and taking photographs of each other wearing them before the stall owner noticed...
The next day we decided to sample Australia's best, weather and wine wise, with a trip to the Hunter Valley. In a completely uncharacteristic move we were both very well behaved and actually had a very nice sophisticated wine tasting day, only coming away with one lovely bottle of Merlot to remember it by! Mmmm... wine tasting.
And a mere 72 hours after we first were reunited in Sydeny Lindy and I were off to Hamilton Island to hobnob it up with HRH Wills doncha know...

The South and Windy Wellington

My first stop down south was Queenstown as I was keen to visit Milford sound (the Eighth wonder of the world) andget myself a much feted 'Furgburger'!) plus also what with the recent situation in Christchurch I felt it was rather prudent to stay away from the East coast, so had decided upon a journey up the West. Day one was mainly occupied with having an explore of Queenstown, getting to know my roommate (German, obviously) who was a nice girl called Sophie and partaking in a Fergburger of my very own. For those of you not in the know Queenstown has a burger bar called 'Fergburger' which is fairly famous worldwide on the backpacker trail (I first heard about it in Argentina for example). It apparently does the best burgers in the world; I actually think this may be correct, frankly it was the most amazing burger I've ever had. There are photos of this joyous even but unfortunately on my other memory card.
The day after and I was off for my daytrip to Milford Sound, which is actually a fjord carved by a retreating glacier many moons ago, and one of the most beautiful places in the world. I had a brilliant day, making friends with a young American lad called Ryan on the bus journey down we were much bemused that the remainder of our tour assumed us to be a couple insisting on taking photos of the two of us together. Not sure what I'm going to do with those...
The national park itself was amazing, and even included an opportunity to see the New Zealand fur seals, which were super cute sleepy little rock dwelling critters! It was also interesting to learn about some Kiwi history and facts from my bus driver, I find New Zealand fascinating. Learning about what happened to their eco systems and wild bird life with the introduction of foreign predators was a particular highlight. They also farm Venison over there, so the fields are full of deer like they would be cows or sheep, which was bizarre.
The next day I decided to transfer to a little township called Franz Joseph, which is only two streets big, but is adjacent to one of only three climbable glaciers in the World, and, you guessed it, I was pretty keen to go glacier climbing! So the day after was spent hiking on ice, climbing through caves and playing with crampons. The MASSIVE highlight of the day was finding a wormhole (a tunnel through the ice) which the guide encouraged us to wriggle through, as one of only three prepared to risk a quick slide through the heart of the ice river I would highly recommend the experience. Although I wouldn't recommend doing it in shorts like I did, as my knees now closely resemble the inside of a blueberry pie. That night I decided to chill out with a visit to the local hot springs to ease my hiking related aches, followed by a quick 3 and a half hours watching LOTR- Return of the King... perfect material when in New Zealand and you're seeing a filming location everyday (my bus drivers always pointed them out, and I was always delighted... although do now have a lot of pictures of empty fields...).
After Franz Josef I was headed to Nelson, which for NZ is a fairly lengthy bus trip. The woman at the hostel did encourage me to break it up with a night at Greymouth, however I don't find 7 hours on a bus particularly daunting and had been warned Greymouth was little more than an industrial town. I was glad of my decision when we stopped there for lunch! NZ is strange in that 1/4 of the population lives in Auckland, and the remainder of the country seems uninhabited by comparison. Queenstown for example was like an English village with Starbucks.
Nelson was similarly small when I arrived. I wnet out for dinner that night with a friend called Paul I had met on the bus. An oddly intense young man who insisted on buying me dinner (minimal complaining) and then tried to talk me into doing a wine tour the next day. I was very torn as the idea of spending the day being driven between wineries sampling their wears certainly seemed inviting, but in the end I plumped for my original plan of spending the floowowing day hiking Able Tasman National Park. It turned out to be an excellent choice as I met the prerequisite German straight away (Saskia this time) and wer had a fabulous day hiking through the beautiful park. With my usual underestimation of my abilities I had assumed i could do the 12k hike set out on my programme in well under the 7 hours laid out by the park guidelines. I was right, but in retrospect adding another 10k hike on top of that to be completed in the same amount of time was probably overkill, and 22k later Saskia and I were ready to drop. The painful muscles and numerous Mozzie bites were worth it though to see the gorgeous park (apparently the beaches there constantly rank among the most beautiful in the world- and you can see why) . I'm definately planning a return trip to go back and see what I missed!
Still speeding along the next day saw me getting the ferry back to the north island and into Wellington for a day. The Cook Straight crossing had to be a highlight of the trip too, traveling along the beautiful sound out of Picton. Plus also have I mentioned I love Ships?
I also adored Wellington, although well deserving of its nickname 'windy Wellington', the city was beautiful. Clean, well developed, and very very friendly. I met back up with intense Paul to spend my final NZ morning with a trip to Weta, the production company behind Gollum, which didn't disappoint. Only realizing once-there that I had met the CEO waaay back in 2003 that day I stood outside the LOTR premier in London!
I also managed to smoosh in a trip to the Botanical Gardens, a ride on a cable car and a trip to the amazing te papa Museum, which frankly was fascinating. Need less to say Wellington has made the 'places I'm heading back to' list too!
That night it was back to Auckland for a final pizza and movie night with Lance, con my illuminating balloons for celebratory purposes (thanks you Walo!), then onto Sydney this morning. 3 cities in 24 hours! Phew!

Black Sand, Hobbits, Zorbing and almost Mount Dooooooom.

My flights were into Auckland in the North of New Zealand, the largest city in the country playing host to a whopping 1/4 of the entire poplulation.... luckily including my friend Lance (who I met whilst doing the Inca Trail) who had very kindly agreed to put me up!! My first evening in New Zealand I was invited to join Lance's family for dinner, which was very enjoable as not only are thay lovely people, but its always nice to meet the locals, even if they are almost identical to English people!

Sin any kind of plan before arrival my first full day was mainly occupied with sorting out what I actually wanted to see and do in NZ. I decided to split my two weeks equally between the North and South Islands to enable me to see as much as possible. Luckily Lance had already done a lot of planning for our North Island activities so there wasn't much to do but book some plane tickets! The one thing I had SET MY HEART on doing in the North was a visit to Hobbiton, which I set up for the Friday of that week. I also managed to have a good explore of Auckland city centre, which was much like any other large city. Did have some lovely parks though. I'm becoming quite a massive fan of parks!

The next day Lance had the morning off work so we were away visiting some of the gorgeous black sand beaches along the coast of the north island. It was a tiny bit cold to swim (the climate here is much close to that of England than Oz is) , but we had plently of fun mucking about taking photos on the beach. We also visited the mount(ain) overlooking Auckland so I could see the good views of the city. the summit was complatetly inundated with Korean tourists, which also led to some entertaining 'spot the odd one out' phots.

The next day was the day of HOBBITON! So, for those of you not in the know, the set of Lord of the Rings is split over the South and North Islands of New Zealand. Hobbiton (the home of the Hobbits) is in a place called Matamata about a 2 hour drive South of Auck. For this purpose Lance had kindly lent me his car. Originally they had planned to demolish the sets at the end of the filming of the trilogy back in 2002, however someone figured tours would be a better plan, and then the location got picked up again for the filming of the Hobbit- which is currently underway. To cut a long story slighly less long, Hobbiton is actually an active film location at the moment, with fruit growing on the trees, flowers blooming and all the 40 Hobbit holes fully constructed as filming was due to start 2 weeks ago, but got pushed back (yay!!! So glad!). Its basically AMAZING to be there and I would LOVE to write all about what I saw and post all BILLION of the photos I took but I had to sign a privacy agreement stating I wouldn't show anyone the photos or discuss what I was told or saw till after the release of the final film in 4 years time. Check back then chaps for the hot scoop!

In yet another jammy turn of luck one of Lances friends had scooped free VIP tickets to Auckland races for the next day, and I was invited (by proxy, but who cares!)! we were to be seated in the Mercedes Fashion Tent (room, as it turned out to be raining), so got a catwalk show to go with our gambling. Despite having to borrow my whole outfit off Lances sisters we had an absolutely wonderful day, with free champagne, HEAPS of gorgeous food (yes, I did have two puddings... well two plates of pudding, multiple pudding on each plate. Backpacker heaven) and I even won $15 having a lady like flutter on a race or two! Higlight of the day would have to be listening to the stadium of Kiwis sing thier national anthem. Well that and being branded the 'soul stealer' by Lance's friends for having red hair (apparently Ginger people steal souls, who knew). We then decided to follow up a spectacular day with a night out in Auckland, where I got to wow everyone with my ability to drink very very fast.

In a sensible planning move we decided to get up super early the next day to go to Roturua, a town south of Auck; in order to enjoy the world famous sport of Zorbing, have my first go at Luging, and to see Mount Dooom (and possibly coincidentally some Kiwi scenery). Luckily we were largely sin hangover due to the sobering powers of a 3am kebab and lots of water!

NZ is the home of adventurous and extreme sports, and as the birthplace of Zorbing I was able to count spinning down a hill in an inlatable ball a 'cultural experience' (if you dont know, Zorbing is willingly getting in a large inflatable ball filled with water and having someone shove you down a hill. Sounds idiotic. Massively fun). Next we were off to try Luging (also invented in NZ) which is basically Go Karting, but on a downhill track instead of a circle, allowing gravity to power the cart, and meaning you go very fast, on two wheels and occassionally airborn. Also massively fun.

Next we (read I) had decided the day was incomplete without a visit to Mount Ngauruhoe, better known outside NZ as Mount Doom. Unfortunately after driving the 3 hours to get there it was too cloudy to see properly (so annoying it was funny), you could almost say the venture was doomed. Ha ha. But luckily the spectacular sunset over Lake Taupo was ample compensation. And I actually got to see a lot of the North Island I otherwise would have missed out on! the downside was that we arrived back at half past midnight, and had to be up again at 5am for my flights to the South Island.

But it was all good, I got there in time and was ready to enjoy a week dahn souf!

Sydney take one...

After Brizzy I was off to Sydney for a paltry three days, luckily I'm set to return there so no worries as they say!

I was pretty struck with Sydeny from the start: I had picked a really good hostel full of very welcoming people ('Come join us! We're drunk! Have some wine! Whats your name?'- the kind of welcome I welcome.), and on the journey from the airport I had met two ladies who informed me that the Sydney Art Gallery was currently playing host to the Terracotta Soldiers, which I was excited to go and visit.

The next morning I was off to scope out the area with a big run around the botanical gardens, to see the *scream* Sydeny Opera House! Whenever I see something on my travels thats iconic (Jesus in Rio is an example that's stuck) I get covered in gossebumps, and it was no different with the Opera House. And it didn't dissapiont. Although I've put off a visit inside the iconic building for a later trip. I also stretched my run to encompassed a quick look along the docks and at the Naval base in Sydney which is visible from the dock road, and quite impressive!

The remainder of the day was spent catching up with my friend Zoe who I was working with in Bolivia, whi currently lives in Sydney. Needless to say much Goon was consumed. Dissapointingly we couldn't find a washing line with which to play 'Goon of Fortune' (peg the bag wine to the washing line, spin it, whoever it lands on drinks. You get the idea... This actually IS Australian culture!!), but conisdering the state of my head the next day anyway it was probably for the best!

The next day I had decided to go and see the Warriors and they didn't dissapoint! Absolutely breathtaking. Naturally I now have to add going to China to see them in thier 'natural habitat' to my list of things to do! I'm also adding a further visit to explore the Sydeny Art Gallery to my return activities as it was a gorgeous collection I didn't fully get round! Shockingly that night everyone was very subdued in the hostel and we settled down to watch a film before my early flight to New Zealand the next morining. Yay!!

Floodies!

As soon as I realised I was off to Brisvegas I was keen to get involved with the flood clean up. I was lucky enough to find a government funded place to do so with a group called 'Conservation Volunteers Australia', which would entail me spending five days doing flood clean up work in central QLD. After my trip down the Gold coast, to see Byron and Nimbin and the like, Caitlin and I saw some of the Sunshine coast at the weekend before I was heading out to get invloved with the flood relief. I didn't really know anything about the kind of work we'd be doing, but I was off to the office at Navy O clock Monday morning to find out! Unfortunately the rest of the volunteer programme weren't quite such early birds and I had an enjoyable 45 min wait before anyone else showed up. Luckily once they did arrive the programme was efficently underway and with minimal paperwork filling-in we were off to Toowoomba in central Queensland, which was one of the towns worst hit by the flooding. First order of the day was to aquaint myself with my new 'floodies' (flood buddies- yes, I am a comedy genius); I was in a team with two young English guys who had just finished college (Martyn and George) and two Korean girls (Sally and Joy), our team leader was a true Ozzy crocodile-dundee-alike called Geoff.

Upon arrival at camp we were briefed on our first days work which was to be cleaning out a community centre which had been flood damaged. We were all assigned tasks when we got there and I opted for toilet cleaning duty knowing noone else would want to be! The Korean girls asked if they could come with me (slightly dubious that they knew what we were signing up for) which they regretted horribly when they saw the state of the 'dunnies'. Not horrendously messy, but chock FULL of tree frogs. One toilet had become home to 26 of the cute critters! However, while I found the amphibians charming and cute Sally and Joy saw them as much cause for screaming and running away. The next hour or so was spent on 'frog rescue', which would have taken much less time if Geoff and I weren't the only ones prepared to pick them up. To be fair Joy did have a go at holding one of the green croaky chaps, but with classic comic timing the frog decided to relieve itself all over her hands as soon as she picked it up which resulted in yet more screaming and me having to catch a now-airborne frog. Frog unharmed, Joy then declined to have anything more to do with the de- amphibianing process and went back to mopping floors with Sally.

Eventually the dunnys were clean, as was the rest of the property, despite the locals wind-up calls of 'Watch out for the snakes! We saw hundreds go in there!'. We were then back off to camp to meet the other floodies who had been working in different teams, in total the camp was catering for about 30 volunteers. It was really nice to meet the reminder of the volunteers as most of them were born and bred ozzys who had used up their leave from work to come and do 2 or 3 weeks helping with flood relief. I wonder how many people would do the same if such a tragedy struck England? A classic character among the group was a chap called Jonathan, who was still dredlocked despite being into his mid- 40s and enojoyed discussing what would happen if his hair started to drop out. Wearing a pink and black 'WORLD POVERTY- what are YOU doing about it?' t-shirt (for the whole week-stereotype, what stereotype?), and looking very similar to someone brandishing a clip board on the street who migh chase you for a 2 pound donation, Jonno was actually superb fun; winning the hearts of my team by introducing us to a card game with a rude name which we played ceaslessly for hours till bedtime. Other volunteers ranged from students who had time off from school to help, all the way up to Murray who must have been in his mid 70s and referred to my whole team as the 'idiot youth' (until I managed to fix the TV so he could watch the news, when he referred to me as the 'slightly less idiot youth'. Better than Jonno who referred to me as the 'one as sharp as a bowling ball'. They all liked me really.)

The rest of the week was to be spent helping farmers in remote areas put their fencing back up. Yep, that's right, I know how to strain and tie fencing now. When the floods hit farmers moved their cattle to higher ground and a lot of the low lying pastures are unusable because the fencing got demolished. If you look at the picture here of what the water did to a ROAD you can see why fences stood no chance! This work entailed lots of driving to and from sites, which led to a lot of team bonding; ranging from group renditions of ' We are the Champions', to farting competitions (to the horror or the Korean girls), to Spanish lessons, to Korean lessons, to burger eating contests, to fishing lectures, to talk-geoff-into-doing-handbrake-turns-in-the-minibus challenges, to kangaroo and snake spotting sessions, to lectures on the birds of Australia. Needless to say I learned a lot, not least that when you're in an enclosed space with two teenage boys all the windows should always be open. The farmer we had been assigned to for the week actually no longer needed our services, but his neighbour, a lovely man called Lindsay asked if we would help him out, and we were more than happy to do so! Lindsay's land was part- woodland and his fences had become wrapped around trees, and was covered in debris from the nearby railway line- it would have taken him a month with hired help to get done what we did in our four days there; we managed to get up nearly 4k of fencing in that time... amazing what you can do with so many pairs of hands! We were super lucky in that Lindsay and his wife were so greatful we were showered with homebaked muffins, cakes, fresh watermelon, sweets and pancakes. Work turned out to be much harder with our stomachs sticking out a mile! We also had great fun looking at the wildlife on the farm, the farmer literally picking up anything of interest and bringing it to show us. He found a lizard at one point, picked it up by the tail while driving and on his mobile phone to bring it back for us! He also found us a dead snake which to boys were happy to pose with for some action phots. Geoff and Lindsay were also happy to reenact the 'you call that a knife?!' classic ozzy bit to our great delight!

On the Wednesday we moved to a new camp even further out in the sticks. The government had managed to procure an old 'classic' ozzy holiday/ theme wedding resort for our usage called 'Adora Downs', which has to be one of my favourite places I've visited in Oz. The main building was an old shearing shed, the accommodation were classic labourers huts made of wood and corrugated iron, the TV room was an old school bus and once again the toilets were full of tree frogs! It was at this point we found out about the earthquake in Christchurch, and I have nothing but praise for the Australians, who still in the process of cleaning up from the floods immediately relocated their professional aid support teams to NZ to help out.

The best part of the ranch was that it had kangaroos living in it, who not only were so tame you could pet them, but who bounced into the dining hall at dinner time to see what they could pinch!! I was delighted, doubly so at the expressions on all the Ozzy faces as they explained that kangaroos NEVER do stuff like that, and they had never seen one so close either, even in a zoo! we also did manage to see some bonafide wild ones out on our travels, so I can well and truly check that box!

All in all it was an amazing week, definately the best thing I've done in Oz!

By Friday night I was back in Brizzy, and by Saturday night I was down in Sydney waiting for my flight out to New Zealand!

Brisvegas and beyond...

Yep, that’s really what the locals refer to it as. So far I have no idea why.

I was lucky enough to be picked up by my friend Caitlin at the airport in Brisbane- for those of you that don’t remember I met Caitlyn in Cuzco, Peru where we worked at Loki together; she had kindly agreed to let me stay at her house for a week or so to enable me to explore so of the East coast and of course catch up with her! Caitlin lives in a lovely suburb of Brisbane called West End which is walking distance from the city (a fact I found out when I paid $4 for the bus!) It was very nice to be staying in a house for once, having the luxury of being able to leave your towel in the bathroom and it still being there the next day is now enough to amaze me!

As Caitlin has a busy Medical school workload and schedule to keep up with we had agreed I would entertain myself. Wednesday was spent exploring the city centre, visiting art gallerys, public museums, a farmers market and walking the river and through the cultural centre. There’s absolutely no doubt that Brisbane is my favourite Ozzy city to date- metropolitan and sophisticated, but small enough to get round by Shanks pony. Actually it reminds me of Liverpool, and I love it. The weather is also more welcoming here… not Melbourne’s constant rain, nor Perth eternal baking sunshine; the temperature’s lovely and everywhere is so green. It does tend to err on the humid side but it really is beautiful.

The next day I took Caitlin’s car for a drive so I could see the Gold Coast. I was keen to make it to Byron Bay, as it’s considered the ‘must see’ of the East Coast, but I found plenty else to distract me on the way there and back. First stop of the trip was at Surfers Paradise, a stretch of beach backed with skyscrapers famous world over for its iconic surf. Apparently the design was modelled on Miami in the USA, but I infinitely preferred surfers. That said, if you really want a skyscraper adjacent beach Rio would still be my pick! I just went for a walk at Surfers, admiring the gorgeous waves and chatting to the lifeguards who are trained to rescue people using surfboards… very cool!

Next I was away to a Koala sanctuary, which was free to see all the run- of -the -mill wildlife, and an expensive $55 to cuddle a Koala. Deciding I’d rather save my money for petrol so I could see more of the coast, and definitely not wanting to pay the extra $25 for the photograph of the blessed event anyway, I stuck with the birds and lizards (Kathryn...what kind of lizard is this? It runs like a velociraptor, tis awesome) I could see for free and was on my way.

The final stop of day one was Byron Bay itself, and boy was it worth it. Despite everywhere I’ve been in the last year, Byron has to be one of the most beautiful stretches of golden sand defined coastline I’ve ever seen. I arrived mid afternoon and was soon climbing to the top of the iconic lighthouse to see the view. Followed by a swim in the sea, and a relaxing jog along the beach. I would have liked to surf there but I thought it erred on the side of irresponsible to go out alone when I’ve really only had one lesson.

My evening was spent with a group of Swedish travellers, who amused me greatly with an hour long conversation about the benefits of Ikea. Nothing like embracing the stereotype there chaps. Apparently the meatballs they serve there where worthy of the 4 hour round trip the next day to the nearest Ikea outlet, ‘tastes like home’!

In the end I fell asleep on the beach, which I’m assured is an essential travelling Ozzy experience… so I’ll check that one off my list...

The next day I walked back up to the lighthouse to enjoy the view again before moving onto the next coastal town of Ballina. I was expecting to be able to swim again here, but there was no sign of beach culture so I headed inland to a tiny village called Bangalow. So far my Australian Lonely Planet hasn’t steered me wrong. Bangalow turned out to be a fabulous return to the ‘Book of Lies’ status, as when I got there I found about as little to see as a visitor to Long Bennington might find,but without any period houses or fun little pubs. I was out of there and headed for a tiny town called Nimbin.

Nimbin has shot to fame in recent years as the ‘Pot Capital’ of Australia. An identity they have embraced with a ferocity that borders on the insane. Never-the-less I spent an enjoyable few hours wondering around the brightly coloured town. I enjoyed the museum there immensely as I have never before been to a museum that is without exhibit or coherence. Basically all the drug addicts in the town seem to have been given a small space in the museum to deface as they please, and the result is entertaining to say the least. Especially brilliant was the fact that the inside of the museum is all about living freely and money being the corrupting force of the world, and the outside of the establishment boasts a prim little sign complaining about people not paying enough to enjoy the museum, ‘this facility can’t sustain itself people!’. Classic.

My final stop was to the National Park that runs between NSW and QLD, I enjoyed several hours hiking and driving around the beautiful waterfalls, and mountain views. Sadly , despite seeing a million signs saying to watch out for them, I STILL haven’t seen a wild kangaroo. But I’m sure I will at some point… or are they fictional… who knows …

And then I was back in Brizzy for a red- wine fuelled night with Caitlin and he friends, and a weekend of preparation before I’m off to help with the flood project next week…

A very Ozzy birthday…

Getting back from Bali I only had a few short days left in Perth before jetting East to Brisbane. Seeing as this time period coincided with my birthday it was largely spent drinking on the beach and enjoying the beautiful natural surroundings of Freo with my friends. My remaining memories of my birthday night out to celebrate turning 24 consist of eating pizza and waking up on the sofa around 3am… I’m sure some other stuff happened in between. I spent my night before my birthday completing my most epic run to date… making it all the way from Fremantle to Perth and back again, which was a lovely way to spend the evening!

Actual Valentine’s day started with opening all my cards from my amazing family and friends, a MASSIVE thank you to all those who thought of me and made my day special from a million miles away! The chaps at the hostel had also got a group signed card, and my friend Lars claimed me in the name of Canada (see phot), apparently a great honour. The afternoon was spent in Perth central with my friend Laura, as it was my last day and I had managed to convince myself I had seen little of the city. I was wrong – there’s actually not much in Perth to see- and I had already hit all the major landmarks with the exception of Kings Park. Kings Park is a lovely stretch of what seems like about a million miles of beautifully maintained parky beauty, including botanical gardens with some of Australia’s rarest plants. Being the well mannered young ladies that we are, Laura and I celebrated the find by rolling down the big hill in the centre of the botanical garden, and then falling around with laughter. A good day.

The evening was spent watching episodes of House and preparing myself mentally for the 4 hour public-transport escapade it would take to get me to Perth Airport for 8.3 am in the morning. Totally worth it for the 15 dollar saving though. And I made it in time, so, as they say, no worries mate!! Brizzy here I come!

Balirilliant!

The best time to find out there is no bus to the international airport is when you’re on what you think is a bus to the international airport. Luckily this dilemma was solved by two kindly ozzy chaps who gave me a list from the centre out to where i needed to be with just 30 minutes to spare before my gate closed on the flight to Bali. No other hitches and i was in Indonesia just in time for the daily horrendous torrential downpour in the ‘leaves something to be desired’ city of Kuta. This had the twin effect of a) drenching everything I owned in about 5 seconds, and b) forcing me to befriend two young similarly drenched French chaps who were also looking for accommodation in the hopes of finding somewhere cheaper to stay if the cost was split between three. There was success on this front and along with Clement and Trevor we were in a previously- fancy hotel with swimming pool for the evening. The accommodation was well up to scratch for mangy backpacking types, though the food on offer in Kuta (traditional Indonesian fare with a ‘what the tourists want’ twist was not to my liking. I decided to head out of Kuta as soon as possible, and so after a very enjoyable swim in the hotel pool I was off on a shuttle bus bound for the central town of Ubud. I was actually surprised the public transport in Indonesia, especially a tourist hotspot like Bali, wasn’t better... I actually believe the South Am transport system is much better sorted in most places. Bali seems to suffer from some kind of Taxi- raqueteering prohibiting the public transport system from running efficiently or effectively. Actually I was disappointed that the Balinese attitude, especially around Kuta and Nusa Dua was largely centred on money grabbing as opposed to investing in the island ‘s wellbeing or original cultures.

Anyway, I was off to Ubud, where in an ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ twist I managed to procure myself lodgings in an ashram run by a Balinese medicine man; Delighted with 3 days of early meditation sessions, hiking and a minimalist diet of noodles and banana toasties (that well known Indonesian dish). Luckily I still had my days free to explore the loca

le and see the country so i was off that afternoon to Ubuds famous Sacred Monkey forest, which is a wood that is full to bursting with monkeys and ancient Indonesian temples. Think Indiana Jones. The monkeys made for an entertaining day as long as you stayed out of their way chasing each other (and me at one point!) through the forest, and making off with all the sunglasses the tourists didn’t remove (as instructed) at the gate. the next day I decided my best option was to hire a driver to see the island (you can get across most of it by car in one day... my plan exactly) first stop was to the Elephant safari park, where i had a phenomenal time riding an elephant through the Indonesian jungle. My elephant was called Roxy, and after going for a ride I was allowed to feed both her and the parks baby elephants. Next stop was the oldest temple on the Island, and admiring the views of the massive dormant volcano that dominates the place. It was slightly cloudy which was a shame, but I did know it was rainy season when I booked. My final stop was a tour of the Balinese countryside where I admired the rice fields and got guilted by local children into buying postcards. It was a truly brilliant day, and so the next day I decided to take a more relaxed meander and opted for a day of meditation (learning about the Balinese traditions of making offerings to the Hindu Gods, and the benefits of silent reflection- numb bum was the first one i found!!). I also managed an enjoyable hike into the Balinese countryside, the only upsetting side- effect of which was several nasty tick bites on my legs. My final day was spent watching Balinese dance (loud, confusing, amazing) and looking around the Ubud market (loud, confusing, amazing) and the Palace in Ubud (loud, beautiful, amazing). The next day i was away to Sanur because i found out that I could attend surf school in Kuta (a place I had no desire to return to) but be picked up and returned to Sanur. The journey to the new town was very enjoyable as I spent the hour journey travelling with two International teachers who were telling me all about their travels and a recent trip to Vietnam (SO want to go there!). Sanur is called ‘Snore’ by the tourists as its famous for having no nightlife and being very quiet. For someone coming out of a very secluded three days in an Ashram with only a Balinese medicine man and his family for company (not that they weren’t very friendly, just not very chatty, apart from laughing at my love of banana toasties- seriously... i urge you to try them! Oh and my other favourite new Indonesian dish Nasi Goering which is fried rice with a fried egg on top, YUM.). I liked Sanur a lot, I was keen to organise my surf lesson and so I set it up for the next day and then spent the remainder of the time swimming in the sea and enjoying the opportunity to run along the beach frint (completely impossible in the tiny town of Ubud which is crammed with kamakazi motorcyclists). I also met two lovely American girls Paige and Josie who were flying out to Kuala Lumpur the next day, we decided to have dinner that night where we traded stories about my brief spell in hospital in Cuzco with Paige who had had an operation in Kuta (erg... nuff said) to drain an absess on the back of her neck. The girls were keen to show my the video of the operation (they had allowed an unscrubbed Josie into the room to film it!) but luckily their laptop battery had died so I wasn’t forced to repress that memory.

The next day i was away to enjoy my first ever surfing lesson. I was delighted to be quite good on a board, managing to stand up on my second attempt. My luck ran out when I got so excited i surfed my board into the beach and did a spectacular knee skinning front flip. But needless to say the very next chance i get I’ll be off on a board again! That evening was spent enjoying the company of the Balinese family who ran the home stay I was living in- i was muchly entertained by the mother who had managed to pick up the English expression ‘yeah, yeah, whatever’ and used it for everything. My final day saw a last trip to the beach (not really comparable to the beautiful ozzy beaches, but the sea there is lovely to swim in) and then hanging out with an Englsih couple who had just flown in and an Ozzy policeman who tried to convince me to join the force here!

My journey to the airport was made more enjoyable by the company of a 65 year old Canadian backpacker who told me stories of trying to get around the world by train... he’s doing quite well so far! And then it was just a case of waiting for my flight back to sunny Freo!