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...