• March: Flew to Melbourne for the day to listen to a MSO John Williams concert.
• March: Flew to Thailand, visited Bangkok and Chiang Mai, rode elephants, petted tigers.
• March/April: Onward flight to Fukuoka in Japan, trains to Nagasaki, Yufuin, Oita, Beppu, Kumamoto, Osaka, Kyoto. Onsens and hells.
• May: Day trip to Canberra for work
• June: *****
• July: Three days in Canberra for work
• October: Up to Rockhampton for my sister's wedding
• November: Our 10th anniversary trip to Europe via Kuala Lumpur. Stopped in the UK, Belgium, Netherlands, Czech Republic, Switzerland and France. Passed through Germany.
• December: Overnight stay in Canberra for work.

Visited a total of nine countries, ten if you count Australia. Twenty-five flights on seven airlines (or nine if you count regional subsidiaries). Fourteen different aircraft types, counting subtypes. Countless trains.

Already booked what's likely to be our first trip of 2012. Almost the same as in 2011: down to Melbourne to listen to the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra play music from Doctor Who.
May 2012 be another great year for travelling!

More than a month has passed since our trip to Europe. The story of the trip is written on allrite@, but now I wish to sort out my impressions of the journey. After the excitement of the journey itself what you are left with is your memories, the ultimate souvenirs of your holiday.

Highlights for me were the sight of the Malaysian Airlines 747 waiting like an old liner in dock to carry us on an adventure. The red Australian desert and the dry but snow capped mountains of Afghanistan, mysterious lands with few inhabitants but many stories to tell. A relaxing transit hotel at Kuala Lumpur's International Airport that was just what I wanted and modern and spacious accommodation near Paddington station.




Standing atop Het Gravensteen castle and gazing across the amazing historic skyline of Ghent in Belgium. Belgian chocolates, waffles and fries. Eating a continental breakfast in our deluxe sleeper compartment while outside the pretty villages of the Elbe Valley rolled past outside. The look of joy on Alex's face as he discovered the toy grotto in Aparthotel City 5 in Prague. Likewise when he found the toy box in the A-Train hotel room in Amsterdam.


Our wonderful apartment in Paris, the fresh food market outside, the restaurants, the chocolate cake on Alex's birthday and the views of the Eiffel Tower from out the window. Ascending to the top of the tower and the amazing views of Paris. Memories as we climbed up to the Place du Terte in the Montmartre.



Schipol airport, possibly my favourite.

Drinking Milo ais at a hawker stall in Kuala Lumpur, watching the black storm clouds approach. Sharing my mee suah with Alex in a kopitiam, as Malaysian as it gets.



The were some disappointments too. The changes to the Novotel Brighton Beach and the very ordinary service and facilities on Malaysia Airlines. Rail service issues, breakdowns and queues in London. Leaving a bag behind in Belgium, B getting motion sick on the sleeper trains. Waste of money on a rail pass due to ticket printing issues and a lack of onwards travel in France. Not seeing much of Amsterdam. Hype of substance in Kuala Lumpur and being stuck for an hour by a tropical downpour.

Overall, a fantastic trip. But I do find myself reevaluating some of my travel dreams in light of this last trip. Many were laid down by our original honeymoon ten years ago. I'm not sure that the Novotel Brighton Beach is quite my dream hotel and the late afternoon 747 flight into the northwest wasn't quite the one that I imagined on my walks back from work. I wonder if I am so used to Japan flights that they consume my dreams now. I wonder what I'll dream of ten years from now.

After my fill of work web stuff I couldn't wait to return to Sydney to see my family again. After visiting the huge Canberra Qantas lounge on my last flight from Canberra I was curious to compare it with Virgin Australia's, seeing as it was included on my ticket.

My first impressions were that it was quite nice, though not as good as Qantas, nor as large. There was a bit of selection of antipasto, breads and fillings, along with free drinks. I made myself a sandwich and an onion soup, then had an apple.



Just PC's and no stylish Macs in the business centre and the televisions were stuck on Foxtel, which I find very annoying. So glad that they aren't supplying services to the Australia Network instead of the ABC.

While waiting a formation of military helicopters flew over, consisting of three Army Kiowas, a black and a white Navy A109E, all of which landed at RAAF Fairbairn and one NavySeahawk that flew off. Very cool!


When I returned from a trip to the toilet I discovered why the Qantas lounge in Canberra is so large - the Virgin lounge was already full despite there only being two flights worth of passengers. Outside the situation was no better with not enough seating available for the Sydney and delayed Melbourne flights.


Fortunately our flight was on time and we soon boarded the Embraer E190 jet. The flight was absolutely packed - it looks like Virgin Australia are having some success getting government business now judging from the clientele.


A Qantas 737-400 was taxiing to the far end of the runway ahead of us, but we turned in and took off first. As we raced above the clouds there were glimpses of the water in Lake George. I'm not convinced of the Embraer's handling in turbulence as it seemed to get rather shaky on the way up. It feels a lot lighter than Qantas' 737s on the route.


As we briefly cruised above the clouds the crew came through with a meal service. It still feels like they have lessons to learn about efficient service. We had already begun our descent by the time the not-so-nice spinach and ricotta muffin and tropical fruit juice were placed on our tray tables. There was little time to eat it before the rubbish was collected.


The heavy cloud over Sydney meant that I wasn't certain of our route into the airport until we emerged over Glebe. It was raining as we touched down. Our supposed earliness evaporated as we sat for over 10 minutes on the tarmac waiting to access a gate.


Then a quick exit and off to catch the train and return home.

It feels like Virgin Australia are starting to get a bit more professional on the Sydney - Canberra route. I really didn't mind the flights with them, though I still looked a little enviously at the Qantas aircraft parked beside us.

That should be it for flying in 2011. Twenty-four flights this year on twelve different aircraft types and seven airlines. Time for a nice quiet Christmas at home.

Photos

I had my first flight today on one of Virgin Australia's new ATR72-500s to Canberra. The only other time I have flown in one of those turboprops was an international flight from Kuantan in Malaysia to Singapore with Firefly. Like that ride, today's was comfortable and pretty smooth, despite flying through a few cloud layers.


I had a pretty poor sleep last night. Alex woke up with a fever and took a long while to resettle. Then I had to wake before 6am to catch the bus and train down to the airport.

My government airfare gives free access to the Virgin Lounge. It took me a while to find it, but I was quite impressed by it's appearance and food selection. Quite a decent buffet breakfast (though without most of the hot buffet selection of a hotel) and some reasonable, though partly blocked, views of the airport operations.


And here was I thinking that I'd never get to visit airline lounges...

After cutting across the Kurnell Peninsula and tracking inland, but parallel to the coast the view was eventually obscured by the cloud layer until our descent into Canberra. We were served a muesli biscuit (no honey!) and a juice and this time the crew easily managed to complete their tasks before we began our descent. Though the actual flight time is longer in a turboprop than a jet to Canberra, the total time is about the same due to the shorter taxi run on the ground.




As we descended into Canberra's airport we mostly followed the highway. Lake George looked pretty full in the distance.


Only a short queue for taxis, then it was a day with the team in Canberra. I had a little time in the evening to wander through the Canberra Centre, which was pleasantly uncrowded.

Last time I was in Canberra I complained about just wanting to stay in some faceless corporate hotel. This trip I got my wish with my fourth Novotel in two months. And hey, there's even a convenience store beneath it!


Actually, the Novotel Canberra is pretty nice and I wouldn't mind staying here next time in Canberra. Not sure if I would return to the Lapasa Singaporean Restaurant around the corner though. A pretty ordinary chicken curry and roti paratha, though the coconut rice was nice. I should know better than to try a Singaporean restaurant - they usually fail to meet expectations, unlike their Malaysian counterparts.


Whenever I talked to Alex on the phone he cried for his Daddy, but we got Google Talk's video working and he cheered up. It's a pain trying to interact via the iPad and no, I'm using a PC so Facetime is NOT an option.

After the chat I had the rare opportunity to watch some non-recorded television. But I would rather be at home snuggling the others.

Photos

If you are wondering why this blog has been so quiet, despite the upcoming trip, it was because I have been busy. Busy with work, busy with family, busy planning the Europe trip. But I have also been spending all my spare time on another travel project - a custom made online travel journal to replace this one.

Blogger's pretty good, but I wanted a more travel oriented system. Most of all I felt like learning something new, so I wrote the new site using Django. I call the system Tatami (ta-ta me!) and the new site is:
allrite.atSee me there if you want to keep following my travels!

It's just under a year since Alex and I last visited Rockhampton. It had been six years since our previous visit and we had just returned from a quick visit to Singapore, with Alex just recovering from a bought of gastro. B remained in Sydney. We only stayed a night, enough time to see my sister's new baby and the Botanic Gardens before returning home.

This time we decided to stay longer - a whole two nights - and bring B along as well. The occasion: My sister's wedding.

After booking our tenth anniversary Europe trip I had no leave to spare, so we had no choice but to fly up on the Friday and back on Sunday. Apart from the fun of celebrating a wedding with my family I was viewing this trip as a bit of a practice run for the Europe trip. How would Alex track on a flight now that he is almost three years old?

He was terribly excited about the flights and seeing his Nanna again, continually asking me if we were going to the airport in the days preceding the trip.

Sydney Airport's Long Term Carpark was around $8 more expensive than catching public transport than a ride on public transport to the airport, so we went with convenience. With the rate that traffic was crawling along the M5 motorway the train and bus might have been a better option. We made it to the check in desk with only a couple of minutes to spare.


Alex was excited by the sight of airport x-ray machines for the first time in six months. B took him for a toilet stop but our names were being called as they walked up to the gate.

I was a tad disappointed to see that our Virgin Australia aircraft was the larger of their two types of Embraer jet aircraft, as Alex has never caught the 170. Not that it matters. Alex was seated by the window, B in an aisle seat and myself at the opposite aisle seat with another passenger at the window. The lack of a window view annoyed me immensely and I resolved to move back to vacant row 18 as soon as the seatbelt lights were off.


We taxied out towards the runway and were then delayed for a while as every other aircraft took off and landed in front of us. Then it was our turn and we shot up into the air.

It was a pretty boring journey for most of the flight. Alex was pretty well behaved, eating some snacks with his mum, then walking back to where I had relocated to row 18 to watch some recorded ABC television on my phone. It was only as we descended into Rockhampton across a mountain range and through puffy white clouds that the ride became more visually interesting.


Singaporean Super Puma and Apache military helicopters were lined up on the tarmac, waiting to fly out on military training exercises at nearby Shoalwater Bay. As I walked down the stairs and across the tarmac I took out my camera for a couple of quick shots when a Virgin Australia flight attendant shouted out to me "No photographs! Put the camera away!" There had been no announcement made about photography, nor were there any signs around stating photography was banned, plus I have taken photos on Rocky's tarmac before without complaint. It was a pretty rude end to what had only been an average flight.


We got a surprise inside the terminal when we found my mum, brother David and his family waiting for us. They had just arrived on a Qantas flight. Alex then had another thrill as the luggage belt started up.

We had previously booked a Nissan Tiida class car from Budget, but when B went to pick up the keys she was given a big Toyota Aurion instead. After stopping by my sister's apartment we checked into our Travelodge. Our room overlooked the brown Fitzroy River that runs (and overruns!) through the city, dividing it in half. It's a pleasant hotel, not quite up to the standard of the Leichardt of last trip. Unfortunately, the Edge Apartments block the views of the old bridge and CBD as this would be a more exotic view.


My sister was holding a practice run of her wedding ceremony that afternoon, so we packed back into the car and drove off to Rosslyn Bay on the coast. Up through North Rockhampton, past the big redeveloped shopping centre that can do no better than a BigW, past new furniture shops, the university, then turned east through the dry scrubland of Yeppoon Road.

Somewhere along the way, past the waiting police car, my mum sounded the horn and overtook us. They too were running late for the practice run.

The road to Yeppoon is fairly unremarkable except for a series of volcanic plugs about 20 minutes out from the coast. These outcrops are the remnant cores of volcanoes after the surrounding softer rock has eroded away. The area around the outcrops was burned black from the recent bushfires in the area.


Rosslyn Bay, which has a marina and port for the ferry rides out to the Keppel Islands, was itself carved out of a volcanic outcrop of hexagonal columns of basalt.


Once the practice was finished we, along with my other brother Jon, decided to visit Mum's house, which lies in a country locality back towards Rockhampton. On the way we stopped at the Causeway Lake Kiosk for a really delicious lunch of fish and chips as the sun set across the lake waters. It's a lovely spot, complete with a playground for Alex.


It was dark by the time we made it to Mum's. Along the way we unfortunately ran over some small marsupial that was attracted to the road by the car's lights before turning off on to the gravel and dirt roads that lead up the hill to the house. Sadly it was too dark to see the view of the Berserkers mountain range from the front of the house. But it was fun dredging through some of my old Matchbox, army and Star Wars toys. The latter returned to Sydney with me "for Alex". Then it was back to the hotel room.

As we drove back that evening I listened to a compilation of various SciFi movie music on the "Star Tracks II" cd that I had bought the last time we hired a car, in Malaysia. I had originally got a copy back when I was a student in Canberra, but listening to it now brought back memories desperately trying to chat to B online while she was in Sydney and I was in Queensland on summer holidays.

The wedding was not until 3pm, so we had plenty of time to explore Rocky before heading out. Alex and I attempted to have a swim in the hotel pool, but the water was too chilly. Quite messy too, and I overheard the lady at the front desk saying that it wouldn't be cleared until the Monday.


On the previous trip I hadn't made it to East Street, the main street of the city, so we decided to have a wander along this shopping strip. I was pleasantly surprised to see that it was no longer the sole domain of discount shops. The fascinators and dresses were out for the spring horse races (especially the Melbourne Cup), there were trendy household goods at My Sister's Keeper and the Capricorn Model House brought back so many childhood memories with their model trains and planes.


I was also surprised to have a very tasty "Burmese laksa" at Feast on East. Like the other Asian eateries on the strip they couldn't seem to make up their mind which Asian cuisine they wanted to specialise in, with all of them selling Thai, Japanese, Chinese and Malaysian dishes. I did find out that Feast's chief cook was Burmese so that might explain the quality of the dish.

A bit of a rest back at the hotel, then it was time to head off to the wedding. This time we used the alternative coastal route via Lakes Creek and Emu Park, which is also the normal way to go to my Mum's house. I was saddened to see that the railway tracks had been torn up past Nerimbera. The branchline to Yeppoon, and the long gone line to Emu Park would have made fantastic tourist train routes.


Alex slept almost the entire way to Rosslyn Bay. We stopped shortly before the turn off to let me change in the car, as I was determined to wear formal clothes for the least time possible.

The wedding went well, I thought, though Alex's formal ring bearer role was edited out by a pastor determined that this ran her way, not the way the bride and groom might want. No matter, he had a fantastic time running and dancing around with the other young kids. During the bit between the ceremony and reception we wandered around the area and spied a sea eagle nest atop a tall lightpost.


By the time we returned to Rockhampton and the hotel we were all utterly exhausted. Fortunate then that, unlike Sydney, there was no need to set aside an hour just to reach the airport.

We met up with my Mum and an uncle and aunt at the airport terminal. They latter pair were on the same flights as us. Alex was so excited by drinking orange juice, luggage belts and Nanna that he didn't go to the bathroom and thus wet his shorts. Out with the next pair...

We had used Frequent Flyer points to book our return flights to Sydney. Last time Alex and I had flown a turboprop down, but QantasLink were wetleasing Alliance Air's Fokker 100 jet for this particular run. Fokkers are relatively rare sights in Australia these days, outside of the mining routes, so I was quite excited.


The interior was visibly older than your average Australian jet, but we were seated in row 2 and the legroom was amazing. Others in further back rows were not as lucky. The cabin had a seat configuration of 2-3 and it was nice for us to be seated all together.


We soon raced down the runway and launched powerfully into the skies. The cabin was surprisingly quiet up front, though things were probably noisier at the rear near the engines. Once in flight we were actually served a reasonably sized meal of zucchini slice, muesli bar and apricots, by the two flight attendants who had that air of country competency seen on the regional services. I enjoyed the scenery much more than on the flight up.


I hadn't dared take a photo of the aircraft while on the tarmac in Rockhampton, which is a pity because there were some great shots to be had. Once in Brisbane I couldn't resist. A minibus took us from the remote stand and into the main terminal, where we had to pass through security once again in order to catch out next Qantas flight down to Sydney.


We had a quick lunch at the food court in the terminal, Alex having missed out during previous flight by being
asleep. Then it was time to board the Qantas 767 for the final leg of our journey.

As we boarded Alex was given a plastic activities pack in the shape of Little Miss Somethingorother, containing pencils, paper and activity cards. Most were a bit old for him, but pretended the case was a robot.


Unfortunately the 767 cabin was 2-3-2 with the centre aisles staggered as well, so B was seated a bit away from Alex and I at the window. I remarked to B that the old cabin, with its centre RGB lamp projection screens brought back memories of our honeymoon flight to Paris in a 747.


We roared up and out of Brisbane, passing by the reclamation works around the port and down along the coast. When the seatbelt lights were switched off we were served some ham, lettuce and mustard sandwiches, along with an apple. Things were going well until Alex decided he was too scared of the toilet flushing noise to use the facility. He had been drinking a lot of juice and suddenly out it came, all over the seat.


I carried him to the toilet, but he screamed and cried. After the previous accident there were no more spare pairs of pants in the bag and only one pair of underpants. So that's all he wore for the ride back, seated on a blanket.

After that ruckus he kept himself amused watching videos on my phone or playing with the activity pack.


Due to heavy westerly winds we were delayed and landed on the East-West runway, affording Alex and I views of Sydney's CBD. The golden late afternoon sun outside put the airport in a perfect light for beginning a long overseas flight, but I felt a cold coming on and just wanted to go home to bed.


The continual complaints of the shuttle bus driver on the packed ride back to the long term carpark was a complete contrast to the friendly hospitality that we had experienced across Central Queensland. We really enjoyed this trip to Rocky and it's a pity that we couldn't have stayed longer. I would have liked to have visited a few coastal haunts again and just spend a lazy time doing very little. I'm actually looking forward to our next visit!

Photos

• Rockhampton flight, Capricorn Coast
• Rockhampton, Emu Park and Rosslyn Bay
• ROK'n on a Fokker

For all the visits to Europe, Japan and the rest of Asia there is one journey I take more often than any other. Most days of the week see me in a car, train or on my legs between my home in Sydney's south to Epping in the north, via childcare in North Ryde, a journey that takes up to 2 1/2 hours one way.


It's actually a pretty scenic ride. From dramatic morning sunrises as we cross the Woronora River to the sunsets over the incomparable Sydney Harbour Bridge, walks past bamboo stands and native bushland near my workplace and the futuristic stations of the Epping to Chatswood railway line, Sydney's newest.

This is a short experimental video I made using my phone, camera and Sony's Movie Story software. Unfortunately, Alex used up all our 25 GBs of monthly bandwidth watching children's shows on ABC iView so I couldn't upload a high res copy. Maybe once I sort out some missing software issues...

The cherry trees were in blossom, but it wasn't Japan.

I need to relearn how to visit destinations outside of Asia. At night as I sat in the apartment I had to remember that I couldn't just duck out into the corridor to grab something from a vending machine or pick up some dessert from a convenience store outside. Canberra isn't Asia and especially isn't Japan.


I rather like Canberra. There's a freshness of air, a melding of urban and rural landscapes, a sense of life but also of solitude. There have been many changes since I lived there for three years, back in the early nineties. So many shops empty in Garema Place, so many of my familiar haunts moved or gone altogether: Impact Records, Kingsley's Chicken under Canberra Place, Woodstock Steak & Pizza House, Dymocks, and others. I suspect that some have just moved a little, across to the shinier and newer shopping mall that rings the centre of Civic or continue on elsewhere. Others have gone for good.

As I walked to work in Canberra I watched the magpies swoop around chasing other birds or gathering material for their nests and was glad that it was not yet spring. If there were two things I disliked about Canberra it was the winters and the dive bombing magpies in spring. At least the winters made you appreciate spring.


I had two good flights to and from Canberra, plus my first experience of a Qantas Club lounge.

• Virgin Australia flight there
• Qantas flight back

Thanks to our corporate travel provider I stayed in a two bedroom apartment. You would think that I should be happy for the extra space but it just looked empty and cold. Truth is that I would have been happier in one of those pokey Japanese business hotels. They are often accused of lacking character, but they had more than  this place.

Looking at hotels to stay in Europe makes me realise how much I have grown used to those in Asia. In many parts of Europe it looks like getting less for more. But then it's all about what is outside those hotels and all the sights, sounds and tastes of European culture and food. Can't wait!

I used to think that business people who stayed in bland chain hotels and ate room service dinners without exploring the city outside were plain silly. Now I understand.

It's funny, I was looking for accommodation in Prague for the upcoming family holiday there. I found one apartment hotel where the interiors looked like they were decked out with cheap items from Fantastic Furniture, but it was supposed to be convenient and kid friendly, so I was happy.

Yet, when it came to booking accommodation for a work trip to Canberra I found myself mentally rejecting such places and instead wishing for a standard modern business hotel. Unfortunately, they are rather thin on the ground and tend to be expensive (at least if you are forced to book via our corporate system). And all I could imagine myself doing (apart from meeting up with a friend) was returning to the hotel at the end of the day, having a quick dinner, then retreating to my room to relax.

Don't get me wrong, I love Canberra and enjoy exploring my old haunts there, but after a day doing boring migration work in front of a computer all I think I will want is somewhere familiar, convenient and simple to put my feet up and relax.

If you are on the road a lot, busy with business during the day and missing your family at night, maybe that's all you want. I guess I'll find out soon.

Thanks to this thread on airliners.net I found some interesting model railway related "sights" in Prague. One suggested accommodation was the Ibis Hotel Mala Strana. Close by is Railroad Kingdom. My Googling also found the Vytopna Restaurant in Prague where the drinks are served by model trains.

I hereby wish to apologise for causing the London riots. If you want a riot or natural disaster for your country please feel free to invite my family in for a holiday.

The woes of the Australian tourist industry are loudly proclaimed. Not only are foreign tourists staying away, but many Australians choose to holiday overseas in preference to local holidays. The high Australian dollar is partly to blame, but the issues run deeper than that.

Australia is a large, sparsely populated continent and its human history is mostly Stone Age or relatively recent. Many tourist attractions are widely separated and travel between them is difficult or expensive. You can't just hop in a fast train and catch public transport to most places and driving to the more remote sights can be fraught with danger. One reason that I suspect Victoria is a relatively popular tourist destination within Australia is because of its compactness and density, along with it's European-like emphasis on cultural attractions.

There are no sites of epic battles, of fortifications and not much grand old architecture. No ruined cities (although Sydney might be included in that category) and little (but not zero!) in the way of amazing engineering feats.

Shopping wise it often feels like there is little to distinguish between anywhere in the country with the same of chain stores, the same old parochial or Made in Asia souvenir products, same old food stuffs available everywhere. It's not entirely true, as you would discover on biting into some fresh local produce rather than city supermarket goods, but for processed foods it usually is.

Yet there are plenty of worthwhile, if not astonishingly beautiful, sights left to see in Australia. I have a catalogue of places to visit here, if only I could afford the time and the cost to get there. But then compare it with many overseas destinations where we can pack in a whole lot more in any given time while experiencing a culture utterly different to what we see everyday.

It so happens that our next trip will be within Australia: Up to Central Queensland for a couple of days to attend my sister's wedding. I've just booked everything and it was a pretty disappointing experience that perhaps illustrates some of the issues that face regional tourism in Australia.

Had we paid for airfares on Qantas the total cost would have been almost the same as it is costing one of us to fly to Europe less than a month later. Virgin Blue wasn't much cheaper and let's not get into flying with Tiger right now!

However, it was accommodation that shocked me more. We got what should be a decent hotel in Rockhampton for a reasonable price, but I would have preferred to be on the Capricorn Coast. Unfortunately, there wasn't much available there for under $100 with most well over that mark. And we are talking motels here, many with fairly basic facilities. None looked like value for money, but if that's what it costs them to operate, well, so be it.

What did disappoint me was the lack on online information and booking facilities for accommodation along the coast. Wotif.com appears to be the most useful service for booking them, but it's still difficult to get a feel for the accommodation itself.

The local tourist information service was even more dire. Would you really to travel for this? Surely they can sell themselves better than that! Not that I would place the Capricorn Coast high on my list of must see destinations, but then I went to school there.

Then again, if the locals are taking their cue for Tourism Australia then I can understand the results. I've seen very few campaigns from them that would make me want to visit Australia. The world has moved on, but much of our tourist industry still seems mired in the past.

So, will it be riots in Malaysia or an Icelandic volcano that messes up our European travel plans in November? Got to start the disaster watch before we get too far into the planning. Don't want to get too disappointed this time!

One of my colleagues recently returned from a trip to the UK and shared her photos with us. I was quite taken by her photos of Mount Snowdon in Wales and the Lakes District and entertained the thought of visiting them while in the UK in November. Unfortunately, the Snowdon Mountain Railway, a rack railway, only operates between March and October.

According to the National Rail website, Windermere in the Lakes District is a little over 3 hours from London by train, so that sounds doable. Not sure if the weather would make the journey worthwhile. We've only ever seen London in the United Kingdom, so it would be nice to explore elsewhere, though we only plan to spend a limited time in the country.

I hope Alex will be okay in the museums of London. He might enjoy the dinosaurs in the British Natural History Museum by that time, but I would love to show B the Victoria and Albert and British Museums. They are all free too.

• Modern transportation museum
• SCMAGLEV and railway park

Two museums high on my list to visit when next in Japan!

This year marked our ninth trip to Japan. It's difficult to remember that there was once a time when we weren't in love with this second home of ours.

B's brother was in love with everything Japanese. He'd dated a Japanese girl, been over there a couple of times and his comments encouraged us to do the same. I had also studied Japanese at junior high school, B during a summer course at university. So when we found ourselves in the second half of 2003 having saved up enough for an overseas trip, but not enough for our preferred destination of Europe, Japan suggested itself as a possibility.

B applied for her visa, getting lost in Australia Square in the process. The Sydney office of the Japan National Tourist Office was a useful resource and continues to be so. But at the end of it I really wasn't sure what to expect. I knew that I wasn't impressed with modern Japanese architecture - boxy and plain - and the appearance of their trains, other than some of the Shinkansens. I was interested in some of their traditional architecture and gardens though.

We prebooked accommodation at the New City Hotel in Shinjuku and sent faxes to book a couple of nights in a ryokan in Kyoto. We also purchased a Japan Rail Pass.

So on the night of the 4th of September we boarded our Qantas Boeing 747-300 for an nine and a half hour overnight flight to Narita airport outside of Tokyo. I couldn't sleep, watched some of the looped entertainment of the seatback screen. I felt every bump of the flight through the tropical air and was rapidly learning to loathe turbulence.

On arrival in Narita B's status as a Malaysian living in Sydney seemed to cause a bit of confusion. But we were soon on our way, having converted our JR voucher into an actual pass and boarded the Narita Express for Shinjuku. It was the start of a long love affair with that train. It's difficult to think of a nicer introduction to a country after a long and unpleasant flight, smoothly riding past rice paddies, bamboo forests and into Japanese suburbia. Fortunately, an electronic display kept track of our location.


Somehow we found the correct exit of the giant Shinjuku railway station. This was back in the day when we travelled with a borrowed Sampsonite suitcase in addition to my big brown Kathmandu backpack and it wasn't fun lugging the former around. Using streetside maps we eventually found the hotel, but it was at the other side of the Shinjuku Central Park which was filled with homeless, and quite far away from the station.

The staff were extremely friendly and helpful, but couldn't check us into until 3pm. We were both exhausted and the weather outside was unpleasantly hot and humid. I think the weather was a major disappointment of the trip.

Unable to check in we wandered back towards the station. Apart from skyscrapers, West Shinjuku also has such fantastic electronic retailers as Yobodashi. A huge selection of cameras and the best looking computers that I had ever seen. I returned to this store many times during our stay and never had enough!

We then wandered around the shopping centres near the station and in East Shinjuku, including Takashimaya Times Square and Tokyu Hands eating tonkatsu and the delicacies in a bento box. Finally, back to the hotel at 3pm for a sleep. The rooms were nothing special, but it had vending machines that introduced me to the refreshing Gokuri grapefruit juice and others that had ice cream, both welcome relief from the weather.

For dinner, we returned to the station area and found a narrow alleyway full of cigarettes and charcoal grills smoke from the tiny bars and noodle stalls that squeezed in together on both sides of the street. It was liking stepping into another world. Japanese customers sat on stools around the narrow bars eating yakitori and drinking beer. We found ourselves climbing up the narrowest of staircases of one such establishment, to be seated on cushions around a long low table. While other young Japanese smoked and watched baseball on the small television, we tried some yakitori - barbequed skewers. Tasty, but expensive!

The night sky may have been dark by the time that we had finished eating in Shinjuku, but the streets were still bright from the myriad neon lights and plasma screens that dominated the walls of the urban canyons. It was a new world for us.


The next day we visited Shibuya, more shopping canyons, the amazing Loft homewares shop, crazy 109 and had our first taste of doria (omelet with rice) in a post office themed cafe. We walked around the love hotel area, themed buildings concealing...


In the evening we caught the train across to Akihabara. I preferred the computer and camera stores of Shinjuku, but still picked up a secondhand Zaurus C700 (Linux palmtop/PDA)  from Sofmap.


Not knowing what to eat we returned to the alleyway in Shinjuku and ate a noodle stall. The proprietor seemed very excited to see a gaijin dine at his stall and kept heaping extras on to my udon until I could truly fit nothing else in. I guess that gaijins must have become more frequent visitors because he paid us no special heed during other visits over the next few years. His noodles are still as good as ever.


It was a Sunday and that meant a trip to Harajuku to see the famous cosplay kids. Much of their gear could be purchased along Takeshita St, platform soled black boots, cutesy outfits for humans and bikinis for dogs.


More shopping at an outdoor flea market, where we bought a decorative obi (kimono belt) that we still have not mounted eight years later. It wasn't cheap.


Hoping to experience some beautiful Japan, we crossed back into Yoyogi-koen, a large park and home of the Meiji-jingu shrine. Yoyogi-koen is more of a western green park that an ornate Japanese strolling garden, which is what I had in my mind, and Meiji-jingu is a big paved shrine rather than an intimate place where temple buildings suddenly appear between the trees. As such, it was a disappointment.


We did catch a traditional wedding party and enjoying the showiness of the cosplay kids near the bridge to the train station.



Omote-sando road took us past big shopping centres and crazy boutiques. We passed jolly brigades of men and women carrying portable shrines as part of a competitive/religious ritual.


I loved the following poster from one shopping centre. Look at where the people are emerging from in the side panels...


We went looking for traditional souvenirs at the Oriental Bazaar along Omote-Sando, but most were too expensive for our budget. Pity, as some of those woodblock prints would have looked nice in the house.

B decided that she wanted a haircut. For some reason we selected Fizzi. Their English was limited, but they were friendly. They also had an open wifi service, which I used to check emails on my original Zaurus. While I waited one of the hairdressers sat next to me and we chatted in my broken Japanese and him using Yahoo's online translator software. Strangely enough, that time in the hairdressers was one of my highlights of this trip.

The next morning we planned to get up early enough to view the activity at the famous Tsukiji fish markets. The reality saw us reach there later on. We still got a decent view of assorted sea creatures put out for display as we trudged across the wet floors.


The surrounding markets were full of a fascinating range of foodstuffs and cooking tools. We ate very fresh sushi from one of the famous restaurant chains in the area.



Following lunch we took a stroll past, but not into, the luxury goods stores of Ginza.


Then a subway ride to Asakusa, the old part of Tokyo. Finally, walking through the Kaminarimon gate, through the rice cracker market and into the Senso-ji temple I had a feeling that we were somewhere exotic.


Smoke, supposedly good for your health, wafted up from a burner in front of the temple. A six story pagoda towers over the attractive temple gardens, while goldfish swam underneath the stone bridges.



The area around the shrine felt like a slightly seedy hangout for locals. We passed an old looking amusement park with it's Funky Duck ride towering over the adjacent buildings.


Naturally, we had to get some plastic replica sushi from the amazing restaurant supply shops along Kappabashi-dori, overlooked by the giant chef's head.


It was time to see somewhere other than Tokyo, so the next day we caught a shinkansen to Tokyo. Boy was it fast, but I found the scenery outside fairly boring, mainly green rice paddies and grey factories.


Kyoto's station was a wonder of glass and steel. It didn't prepare us for the view outside. Rundown Kyoto Tower and grey boxy buildings. I was not impressed by modern Kyoto. We dragged our cases from the station to our ryokan, stopping by the tourist office to book a tour of the Imperial Palace for the next day.



The route to the ryokan took us past the big Higashi Hongan-ji Buddhist temple and streets of old shophouses where they still made local crafts, sweets and crackers. As we neared the ryokan the clouds briefly started to rain big tropical drops. We sheltered under an awning until it stopped. The weather was hot and humid, rather unpleasant.


As we checked in at the ryokan we discovered that I had got our days wrong and that we should have arrived the day before. No wonder the clerk at the New City Hotel was so confused. The old lady who ran the ryokan was rather upset with us, but eventually excused us with the face saving "must be the timezone difference that has you confused." Actually, Australia and Japan have a standard 1 hour difference.

After leaving our bags we returned to the station area to explore and get some dinner, which we ate on the upper levels of the station building.


Our first stay in a ryokan was, like much of the trip, a bit of a disappointment. The scent of the straw tatami mat was lovely and has always stayed with me, but the room was very hot and we were not supposed to leave the noisy airconditioner on. The bath was deep and hot, but just a single person affair and stank of kerosene from the heater, though the view out to the garden was nice.


It was raining the next day. We ducked into a convenience store to purchase an umbrella, then walked to the Kyoto Imperial Palace for the compulsory tour of the grounds. Despite the wet weather I enjoyed the striking bright orange buildings, the thatched roofs and the ornate garden, which was more in keeping with expectations than previous parks.




After the Imperial Palace it was a long stroll through the covered arcades and the Nishiki markets. These arcades must be for local people as there never seems much for a tourist there.



We had bought bus passes and caught a slow bus service up to northwest Kyoto to see the famous temples. It was again hot and humid and there was plenty of walking to be done. As we strolled up the hills past jungle I wondered if there were any bears lurking there.

The first of the temples was the modern symbol of Kyoto, the golden Kinkaku-ji pavilion. This was a pleasant sight, until the crowds of Japanese tour groups with megaphones came through and destroyed the ambiance.


From Kinkaku-ji we walked up to Ryoan-ji, a temple complex which houses the famous Zen stone garden. Taking off our shoes and just sitting down on the wooden steps of the temple to admire the rock and moss islands in a sea of pebbles was in itself very relaxing, despite the noisy school kids also touring the complex.


The moss gardens and pond area around the temple are also very attractive.



Another bus drove us towards Ginkaku-ji and the start of the Tetsugaku-no-michi. Unfortunately, it was too late in the day to visit the Ginkaku-ji temple, but I was determined to walk the evocatively named Path of Philosophy. As we strolled along the stone path under the green cherry trees giant carp swam languidly in the Biwa canal to our left. Either side of the canal were houses and small cafes and galleries, people going about their evening business. The Tetsugaku-no-michi remains as  my favourite part of Kyoto.


After a lot more walking and another bus ride we reached downtown Kyoto and the narrow Pontocho street alongside the Kamogawa river. This street is lined with many traditional restaurants and we spotted a maiko (apprentice geisha) strolling along it. Most of the restaurants do not welcome non-Japanese speakers, but we eventually found one with an English menu that served modern versions of traditional Kyoto cuisine.

It was expensive and I can't say we really enjoyed the meal, but chalk it down as an experience. Then back to the ryokan for another bath and sleep before the curfew kicked in. Being used to staying out exploring late while travelling the imposition of a 10pm curfew at the ryokan was not really welcome.


There was enough time for an exploration of Higashi Hongan-ji before our departure from Kyoto. The main building was under renovation, but we listened to the bells and chanting of the morning service.


Rather than return directly to Tokyo we were first going further south to Himeji, site of one of Japans largest and best preserved castles. First, however, we had to stop at a convenience store to buy some black duct tape for one of B's shoes from which the sole was starting to peel off.


It's quite a hike from Himeji station to the base of the castle. There seemed to be preparations for a concert in the surrounding park with the erection of a big tent stage and a number of trucks parked around the place.

The walk up through the castle and up to the top of the main keep was hot work but fascinating. There are many English descriptions posted around the castle with some static recreations of the life inside. Himeji-jo is still made of wood, rather than a concrete reconstruction as is the case in so much of the rest of Japan.




As we walked back towards the station we spotted what appeared to be a pet skunk on a young Japanese man's scooter.


Another Shinkansen returned us to Tokyo and the Shinjuku New City hotel that evening. We had one last wander through the neon lights of Shinjuku. This was one area that I would miss when returning to Australia, the multicoloured bright lights, the noise of the busy electronics shops.



Our final day in Japan was spent around in Shinjuku. We wandered through the park opposite the hotel, past throngs of homeless Japanese with their cardboard boxes and suits. Then ascended to the top of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building towers to the free lookout. Shinjuku is one of the more stable areas of Tokyo, enabling the building of these tall skyscrapers.



We then went shopping at Takashimaya Times Square and wandering through the amazingly diverse Tokyu Hands. By the time we got out we had to run back to the hotel to have enough time to collect our bags and catch the free, but infrequent, shuttle bus back to Shinjuku station.

At least we could relax in the Narita Express back to the airport. Then another bumpy overnight flight in a Qantas 747-300 back to Sydney.


When we arrived at the airport our black Samsonite case was missing from the luggage belt, along with the $5 umbrella from the convenience store. It appeared that one of the other passengers had mistaken our case for his own. At least they were probably Japanese and I had great confidence in their honesty.

It was not misplaced and Qantas delivered both to us, though the umbrella came separately. The courier delivery must have cost them more than the umbrella itself!

Our first trip to Japan was a case of having high expectations and preformed impressions that differed from the reality. I just didn't "get" the country on that trip, didn't get the food, the architecture, the climate. It felt too urbanised, where was the spiritual side of Japan?

With hindsight I know now that I didn't know how to look at Japan in the right way, how to identify the beautiful vignette in a scene which may otherwise seem ugly. Had we caught a train into the mountains or stopped at a small town we would have seen a very different side of Japan. That journey will be told in a future post.

Photos

It's time to return to another of our past trips overseas, this time to New Zealand's South Island in January of 2003.

Our wonderful honeymoon in Paris had instilled in both of us a desire to see more of the world outside of Australia. However, we had a new house to move into, furniture to buy and many other expenses, making 2002 the only year of no overseas travel since our wedding.

With the dawn of 2003 our savings were not yet high, but the desire was strong. So we picked somewhere nearby to Australia, yet very different scenically. Somewhere with no language difficulties (or so we thought) that would provide an easy holiday. No doubt also guided by a certain trilogy of movies, the first two of which had been released by the end of 2002.

This was the first trip where we had our own digital camera, a Canon IXY200 2.1 megapixel device, a wedding present imported from Japan.
Arrival at ChristchurchI found it amusing that we were departing Australia on Australia Day, most unpatriotic of us. The flight over to Christchurch was unremarkable until we crossed over the Southern Alps. There I felt some predictable turbulence associated with mountain waves.

The Hertz car hire desk was understaffed and we waited ages until we could collect the key to our black Toyota Corolla. This was the first and only time, until Malaysia, that B felt comfortable driving in another country. After all, their road rules were the same as ours, except for the give way to turning traffic at an intersection rule, which is the opposite of Australia.

For accommodation we had prepurchased a series of Golden Chain vouchers from the STA where we booked the travel.

We drove directly to our motel, an olde Englishly floral kind of place outside of the Christchurch CBD called the Ashleigh Court. After dropping our bags we then continued into the city, which has a one-way ring around it. The CBD felt rather sleepy, except for student hangouts. Our first New Zealand meal was in a Asian place. Then back to the motel to rest.

Except that I couldn't sleep. I amused myself by watching the Australia - England one day cricket final on delayed telecast from Australia.
Christchurch to Franz Josef GlacierRather than the normal Arthur's Pass route across the Alps to Greymouth on the west coast we decided on a more northerly route via Hanmer Springs and the Lewis Pass. Initially the scenery was nothing remarkable, flat plains with the Alps to the west. The rivers seemed interesting, milky blue with many big grey pebbles.

As we turned west and into the foothills the countryside felt more like northern Victoria and there were even stands of eucalypts. John Farnham's "Your the Voice" played over the radio, further adding to the Australian feel.


Then our perspective changed as we got further in towards the mountains and began driving alongside the big Waiau River. To our right was a turn off to Hanmer Springs while a jet boat raced across the river, showering spray.


Hanmer Springs is a small holiday village nestled into pine plantations that give the impression of Europe or the US. We paid the entry fee to the host springs complex, the town's main attraction. It seemed too early, and the air too cool for a swim, but neither of us had bathed in natural hot springs before. They were hot, up to 39 degree Centigrade! We could only stay in the hottest pools for a brief time, partly due to the strong stench of Hydrogen Sulphide. However, it was very relaxing, and the effects of a near sleepless night were washed away in the steaming waters.


From Hanmer Springs we drove up into the mountains, the forests changing around us. I had brought the first two Lord of the Rings movie soundtracks with us to listen to on the car's CD player and they were wonderfully appropriate for this trip. I could imagine elves outside happily existing in the beautiful forests.



We drove past the source of the Waiau River and then as we crossed through the pass came to the source of another river flowing in the opposite direction, towards the West. To abuse a sporting cliche, the South Island is truly an island of two halves.

At this stage the river was just a pretty little stream surrounded by wildflowers and forest. Further on it became more dramatic, looked down upon from steep slopes and tall trees.


Eventually the road wound down to the coast. The skies were now dark grey. We discovered another peculiarity of New Zealand. The one-way shared road and rail bridge. These were quite scary, though I daresay there aren't many trains per day.



The rivers of the South Island were a beautiful aquamarine colour due to the very fine glacial particles suspended in the water. Unfortunately, whenever we stopped to admire them we were set upon by nasty biting midges.


We reached the western coastline at Greymouth. The cities along the coast possessed this unusual, almost eerie quietness, a stillness under a grey-golden sky. The light along the west coast was different just as the light of Asia differs from Australia, and gave the scenery a dreamy air. I loved both the light and the solitude.

At Greymouth we stopped at a jade factory which also did glass blowing, bought some souvenirs. The west coast is where most of New Zealand's jade is sourced from. Being summer the days were long, so we continued south. Along side us the waves of the Tasman sea crashed into the lonely beaches.

We stopped again at Hokitika, another quiet town, admiring some interesting jewel stones, but purchased nothing. Pressing onwards, we made it to the Franz Joseph motel, a little north of the township of the same name. This large room contained cooking facilities, so we drove into the township, which mainly caters to backpackers and glacier tour operators, to find food.

The choices were pretty disappointing with a few expensive cafes and a limited range of groceries, so we ate tinned spaghetti and packet noodles that night.
The Glaciers to Arrowtown
If yesterday belonged to the Elves, then today it was Orcs and Men. We departed our motel early, driving past the townships towards our first stop, Franz Josef Glacier. Throughout the morning, Howard Shore's music for the Fellowship of the Ring and The Two Towers provided an appropriate soundtrack to the scenery outside. As we drove up the gravel road to the glacier the sight of dead trees eerily combined with the Mordor sounds of The Prophecy from the car speakers.


After walking through damp forest under some brief showers we were presented with a view of Franz Joseph Glacier, the first that we had ever seen.


Returning to the car, we drove out of the glacier environs and stopped at an information centre to learn more about these rivers of ice. About 25 kilometres south of Franz Josef is a second, and more spectacular glacier, Fox Glacier. Here, we were able to walk up from the carpark almost to the base of the glacier. Temporary waterfalls fell from fog shrouded valley walls, forming rivulets into the main flow from the glacier. We stepped carefully across the moonlike rocks until we reached the blue ice face of the glacier. It was as if we were on another world. The truth is that I was actually reminded of the scenery in the Doom computer game.




When we returned to the carpark we found a pair of kakapo. Then it was south along the coast, stopping to admire some interesting coastal rock formations, then driving on under the strange skies listening to Gollum's Song.



On this trip I learned how cranky B gets when she is hungry. We did a quick u-turn after passing a salmon farm on the right of the highway. There we had the most fantastic comfort food. Rich, cheesy, creamy smoked salmon pasta and a salmon chowder with soft hot bread and washed down with Lemon & Paeroa. I still dream of that meal.

After crossing the single lane bridge across the mighty Haast river it was time to head inland again and across the Alps through the Haast Pass.


The sky had turned ominously dark, the mountains menacing, the tight, winding roads following the Haast River's course a struggle to climb. Suddenly, the Haast turns into a raging waterfall and we are at the pass.


Then, as we cross to the other side of the Alps the spell is lifted, the sun returns and we have entered the most breathtakingly beautiful of lands.



Looking firstly backwards and then along the Makarora River you can see the difference in the weather. Then the river opened out into Lake Wanaka and we were left speechless with its beauty, silently mouthing "Wow" over and over again. Surely, it was the most beautiful of sights and we were saddened when the road turned away from the lake.


Sad, until we crossed over the hill and another lake appeared before our eyes, Lake Hawea, and we could not believe that we had found something more magnificent than Wanaka. Our breath was taken away by the grandeur and the scale of the scene before our eyes. Incredible.


Eventually, the road returned to the shores of Lake Wanaka and to the township of that name. There we decided to take the scenic "shortcut" via Cardona to Queenstown rather then the highway. After driving through damp glacial forests and lake scenery, we were surprised by the dry grassland of this winding route. It was stressful driving and we were surprised to see a tourist bus parked at a lookout near the end of the drive. Grateful for a chance to rest, we pulled over for a scarily high view of Queenstown from above.


The last few kilometres of the drive were the worst, with many blind and narrow corners without side barriers, accidents waiting to happend should an incautious party be on the road. It was with great relief that we made it to flat land.

The nights accommodation was at the Viking Lodge Motel in Arrowtown, a historic gold-mining village on the outskirts of Queenstown. The A-frame units were very cosy and another new experience for us. With evening yet to come we set off into Queenstown proper to explore.

Neither of us liked Queenstown much. There were tourists everywhere, the whole city centre seemed tourist oriented with lots of adventurewear shops. Fortunately, the stores were open late, so we had our first chance to engage in some New Zealand shopping, but were rather underwhelmed by the experience.

Lake Wakatipu, on whose shores Queenstown lies, is rather pretty. We took an evening stroll along the shores, photographed the steamer which runs tourists around the lake, then returned back to the motel for a well earned rest.
Queenstown to Te Anau and Milford SoundArrowtown was a quaint gold mining village and far more attractive than Queenstown. We regretted not eating dinner there instead of Queenstown.


Our next destination was Te Anau at the foot of a lake of the same name. As we departed Queenstown I couldn't help but think that the range of our left might be fencing in Mordor. Snow clouds still dusted the tops of the hills, even in late Summer. We passed a vintage steam train pulling tourists along through the valleys. It would have been a fun and very scenic journey for them.


We had the radio on while driving along and there was very little of the Kiwi announcer's thick accent that I could understand, except for the "dubdubdub" whenever he announced the start of a url.

On reaching Te Anau and the Anchorage Motel we were quick to unpack and book a Milford Sound cruise though the reception. Not stopping for lunch, we set out towards this famous part of the Fjordland National Park.


The park's entrance is into yellow grassland at the base of a river valley. Grey clouds lay ahead on the towering mountains, and we hoped they wouldn't cause problems. We carefully wound our way upwards along single lane roads and bridges, into forest, to find ourselves at Homer Tunnel, a narrow, but long, unlit pass straight through the mountain. On either side of us, snow. We drove through, not knowing what lay beyond.

Beatrice was feeling sick from the winding paths and a lack of lunch, so we pulled over, precious time passing. Below us, the road wound tightly and steeply down the mountain side, with patches of snow at the edges. The weather was wet and the air foggy, the Alps splitting the South Island's climate in two.


We had made it that far, there was no sense turning back, so we continued into the gloom, hoping there would be something to see at the end of it. Somehow we got to Milford Sound, early enough that we could partake in a meat pie from the cafeteria, but soaked from the pouring rain that lay between there and the car.

The boat set off into a grey gloom, the famous landscape obscured by fog and rain, and Beatrice fell asleep on my arm, worn out from the driving and never very good on boats. It was rather disappointing after the effort we made in travelling to the sound.



The return through the mouth of the fjord marked a change in our fortunes. The cloud lifted and an astonishing landscape was revealed. The same rain that had hidden our view was now streaming down the mountainsides as temporary rivers and waterfalls, something we would have missed on a sunny day. We stood out on the boats decks and felt the spray of a waterfall and watched the seals on the rocks.



When the boat returned to the dock it was time to return to Te Anau. Freed of the need to arrive at a certain time, we took the return trip at a more leisurely pace, enjoying the scenery, the water cascading down the sides of the dark, bare grey flanks of the mountains and into forest streams. The unlit Homer tunnel was just as terrifying to drive through as on the way in, the drive up to it as motion sickening. We stopped again on the other side, snowbanks visible on the side of the road.




The landscape kept changing the further along the road we drove. Mountains coated in greenery, lakes and forests of different trees, until again we arrived back in the grassy valley floor, surely a place for the horse lords! At this point we were quite concerned, for we had not looked closely enough at the petrol tank earlier and it now read just above empty. The warning light had been on for a while by the time we made it back to Te Anau.



We had another scare in the town when I discovered my wallet was missing. We searched the places we had stopped, eventually finding a note posted up on the light pole near a previous parking spot. A Japanese tourist have found my wallet on the ground and brought it into a nearby shop. I thanked the kind owners and found in their store a suitable snow dome to bring back to Beatrice's family, who collected them. We had hunted quite hard for that, so it was a happy ending all round!
Dunedin and the Taieri Gorge RailwayAfter the beauty of the South Island's Alpine regions, the remainder of the trip was a bit of a let down. The rolling country grasslands just could not compete with the magnificence of the mountains, forests and lakes. We left Te Anau and drove westwards to Dunedin, passing through small towns and sheep farms, not too different from some of my favourite parts of rural Australia.


Arriving in Dunedin early in the afternoon, we checked into the Aberdeen Motel, then drove back through the university city to the historic and ornate station. From there, we boarded the Taieri Gorge tourist train, a diesel hauled collection of heritage and custom built panoramic carriages that follows the Taieri River for a distance of 77 kilometres, although our trip was only up to Pukerangi, 58 kilometres from Dunedin.


The entire journey was supposed to take four hours. However, we were late leaving Dunedin as the initial mainline track out of station had to first be checked for warpage due to the heat, the limit an incredibly low 22 degrees Celcius! We made it out past the end of the mainline and off on to the tourist track spur when the locomotive broke down, stranding us for another hour. The train's staff were very helpful, giving out free drinks. Meanwhile Beatrice stopped looking out of the window and became addicted to the Scrabble game on my PDA. Eventually an alternative locomotive was found and we began our ascent up the gorge.


I would have said that the scenery was impressive, but for the fact that we had just come from the Southern Alps. That said, at least we could sit back and admire the view through an open window or from the balconies at the carriage ends.




Pukerangi was simply a set of passing loops beside a platform and couple of residences. While the locomotive swapped ends we took the opportunity to wander around before we began the return journey. Fortunately, this was less eventful than the trip out.



Beatrice was desperate for an opportunity to try some New Zealand seafood, so we spent the evening searching for a suitable restaurant. We initially tried Dunedin's beaches, but that proved fruitless, except for the beautiful evening views. Eventually we found a restaurant in the CBD and ordered a seafood platter for two at a very reasonable price. It was huge, with crabs, prawns, fish and mussels. So many mussels, that Beatrice swore off the shellfish. A full day, and a very full night!

Larnach Castle and ChristchurchWe began the day with a drive out along the Otago Peninsula, stopping to take in the magnificent views of Otago Harbour from atop the brilliantly green hills. Our destination was Larnach Castle, the 19th Century home of banker William Larnach and some very tragic tales of suicide and unhappy relationships. Set in a classic English garden, the castle-like house is full of furnishings from across the world, the interior workmanship and materials a wonder to behold, as is the view from the tower.





On the way back from Larnach Castle we stopped off at Clifton Farm, who specialise in sheep with naturally coloured wool. We purchased a beautiful grey-brown sheepskin from their wooden shed full of woolen products. Then it was back to Dunedin for some lunch and a chance to look at the impressive bluestone architecture of the city.



Then it was time to complete the circle around the South Island with a drive northwards back to Christchuch. Much of it was quiet yellow countryside, some pretty, but quiet, seaside views, the odd town. We stopped by one roadside fruit store that sold the most delicious strawberries (it was the Strawberry Trail, according to the tourist signs).

On our last night in New Zealand we ate dinner on Cambridge Terrace, where Christchurch's nightlife is concentrated before retiring to the motel.
Christchurch, Akaroa and leaving for homeOur final day in New Zealand, but we still had much to do. After our honeymoon we were a sucker for anything French, so we headed out early to Akaroa, a small French settlement on the Banks Peninsula. More winding roads, though the scenery was drier than further south. Still attractive, still quiet. At Little River we stopped to look at the craft shops, buying some tiny moccasins as a gift for a friends soon-to-be-born baby.


Akaroa was a quaint little town, full of the usual craft shops that abound in such places. It gave us a chance to look for last minute gifts for family members. Lunch was a tasty local fish and not so good half a lobster from a popular fish and chips shop. There was an interesting paua (abalone) shell and blue pearl display on the main wharf. Apparently, the paua are haemophilic and will bleed to death if cut. This makes harvesting the pearls very difficult.



The return drive seemed even more attractive than on the way out. I must have a dirty mind, because I thought that a couple of hills looked like giant breasts.


Back in Christchurch we took the opportunity to wander the city and take a ride on the tram that loops through the CBD. It's an informative little trip and good introduction to the city's attractions. Unfortunately, we were limited in time and soon had to return the car back to the airport.


The need to check in early for international flights left us with plenty of time to waste at the airport and little to do. Unfortunately, we did not realise that the adjacent Antarctic centre was open to the public until 8pm, as it had been strongly recommended to me by a friend who had spent a year at the South Pole. There was also the issue of paying a separate departure tax, a practice I believe has now been eliminated.

Our delayed Qantas flight home had been substituted with a 747. The good thing about it was that we now had seatback entertainment, thought there was barely enough time to watch a complete movie, though I succeeded with the childrens movie Thunderpants.

Soon after take-off I enjoyed the entertainment of the New Zealand landscape outside of our window. Through the clear skies I could see the route we had driven across the Alps to the west coast.


This flight also marked the genesis of my fear of turbulence. It was rough, and for the first time that I can recall, the seatbelt light was switched on. Subsequent flights saw the fear increase and it has taken me six years to overcome it.

Our New Zealand trip remains one of the best that we have had. The scenery was absolutely spectacular, the pace relaxed despite the amount of driving. It was also so nice to listen to music while watching the landscape unfold. Even now the music of Lord of the Rings takes me back to the real Middle Earth: New Zealand.

Photos

Lemon chicken and sweet and sour pork in Malaysia. Oh Mum, what a waste of a meal! And what does that have to do with Europe?


My mum returned last week after spending a couple of them in Paris. She flew Malaysia Airlines (MAS) with a two day stopover in Kuala Lumpur. Fortunately, there was no need for us to be envious.

About a month ago we booked our own flights to Europe flying with MAS. This year marks our 10th wedding anniversary and we had hoped to celebrate it in Paris, the destination of our original honeymoon. Unfortunately, we didn't plan this early enough and the earlybird fares were well and truly gone by the time we thought about it. Fortunately, MAS had an incredibly cheap sale on just when we wanted to go.

MAS flies to four destinations in Western Europe. Prior to the booking deadline I desperately tried to formulate a rough itinerary so I could work out which city to arrive and depart from. We don't just want Paris this time, but also want to include Belgium and the Czech Republic without spending all the time on trains.

In the end it came down to the aircraft MAS uses to each destination. They fly 747s to London and Amsterdam and 777s to Rome and Paris. Much as I wanted to recreate our honeymoon by flying into Charles de Gaulle Airport's old Terminal 1, the 777's 2-5-2 seating configuration put me off. I want the three of us to sit in a window row and that's only possible on their 747s, which have a 3-4-3 configuration.

At least it was a 747 that we flew in on our honeymoon with Qantas, plus we did have to fly via London. I chose London again this time as there are two flights a day and having a daylight flight from Kuala Lumpur to London means that Alex is less likely to disturb other passengers if he is active. Plus it gets in late in the afternoon, so there is no zombie day waiting for check-in to the hotel.



It also means an overnight in KL and a chance to recover from the evening flight from Sydney.

On the way back we will fly via Schipol airport in Amsterdam, spending a couple of days in KL, eating food that hopefully doesn't include Australian-Chinese takeaway staples. Back in 2004 we flew in and out of Schipol and the airport made an impression on me. When I'm listening to the right kind of music I often find myself dreaming about Schipol.


There is something very special about flying to Europe. Those frequent flights to Asia just feel incomplete without an onwards flight to Europe. Most others dread the 12 - 14 hour flights from the Asian hubs to Europe, but they feel just right to me - at least going there. The Eurasian continent is a fascinating place to fly over, especially the mountainous regions.

Looking forward to a couple of days in KL. I doubt if we'll want to do much but rest and eat. And eat.

We'll be celebrating not only our anniversary, but Alex's birthday in Europe. I'm sure we won't have any trouble finding a nice cake for him!

I don't know what travelling with a 3 year old will be like, but I imagine that we'll be looking for playgrounds and parks a fair bit. At least there should be a practice run when we fly up to Queensland for my sister's wedding.

Now I wonder what problems will affect our plans this time. We've had to change travel plans due to riots in Thailand, tsunamis in Japan, been afflicted by illnesses and accidents, ever since we began travelling with Alex. It's getting scary!

Been busy with travel related activities for the past week. Only one actually involved travel.

On Monday last week I flew down to Canberra on one of my work trips. Through smooth skies the Qantas Q400 turboprop carried us south over the northern suburbs of Wollongong, the southwest and, unusually, over the north of Lake George to Canberra. Lake George has long held a fascination for me. When it is full, lapping against the edge of the Federal Highway, it's like part of an inland sea. But it has been a long time since the lake was full and the shallowness of the lake was readily apparent from the air.


As we descended into Canberra's airport we flew over a rectangle of asphalt on to which a roundabout had been painted. Yes, it was a driver training facility, but it looked amusingly like an ironic advertisement for the city of roundabouts.

It was fortunate that I had caught an early flight at the start of this federal budget week because the queues at the airport taxi rank were horrendous. It wasn't that there were not enough taxis; they too were queued up, but the inefficiencies of trying to organise multiple passengers for each taxi. Whilst that may sound environmentally efficient, it is apparently a scam to get each passenger to pay for the full trip.


The flight back was on a Boeing 737-400 aircraft. These are some of the oldest aircraft in the fleet and only a month ago Qantas announced that they were all up for sale. The 400s are the mainstay of Qantas jet flights to Canberra and there were three of them parked there while I waited for my flight.


Despite a long heritage of flights in the 737-400, especially between Sydney and Canberra, I can't claim any special fondness for them: they just do their job without any fuss.

Maybe the reason is that Sydney-Canberra flights are just too short to get into a travel rhythm. I did enjoy the snack of chocolate and vanilla coated almonds though, while outside the window the sun set behind the layer of grey clouds.

Photos

Here's an account that I've copied across from elsewhere on my websites. It describes how my family found ourselves leaving Melbourne and living in Queensland.

I was nine and a half when we packed up our bags and left Melbourne to explore Australia early in 1984. According to my parents, their intention was to leave the ratrace of the city behind them and live a life much closer to nature. In other words, they had read plenty of Simply Living and Grass Roots magazines as well as watching The Simple Life on the tv.

No doubt their story of our departure would be different to mine. I shall tell this tale from the perspective of someone not yet a decade old. Distances are longer and time is slower when you are that young.

Our parents had pulled us out of school the year before and begun teaching us at home. There were both positive and negative aspects of home schooling, but I was to learn much over the next six months that many fail to see during their lifetimes.

The house was sold, along with most of the furniture and in February of 1984 the five of us packed into the caravan and the children among us said goodbye to the home we had lived in all our brief lives.

Each of us kids had our own bunk at the back of the van, whose interior was decorated with fake brown woodpanelling and orange fabrics and vinyl – it matched our bright orange Holden Kingswood sedan. Mum and Dad could either sleep on the double bed at the front or on an airbed in the annex. The caravan was equipped with a gas stove and oven and small gas/electric fridge. For showers and toilets we needed to use the shared campground facilities. There was no television either. About the only program I really recall missing was Dr Who.
The Victorian CoastlineWe didn't go very far at all for our first leg of the trip: just a couple of hours south of Melbourne. Point Lonsdale was a favourite holiday destination of ours. We used the time to get used to the caravan and big khaki canvas annex. At the small Ocean Grove Zoo we met their Zeedonk, a bipolar cross between a zebra and a donkey. Later on I had an opportunity to fall off a donkey at a nearby farm – right after being told that they were perfectly placid beasts. My recompense was being allowed to stroke a newborn foal. The rest of the family were envious of that.

From Point Lonsdale we drove along the Great Ocean Road to Port Campbell, gateway to the famous natural rock formations of the Twelve Apostles and London Bridge (now collapsed). The final stop before leaving Victoria at a glacial pace was Nelson, memorable only for the wallabies around the caravan park.
The CoorongOur escape from society really began when we pulled into a secluded caravan park along South Australia's Coorong. We were far from any town, making necessities like fresh milk difficult to get. However the solitude of the long sandy beaches, the pink salt pans and bushwalks through scrub made up for any missing luxuries. It's a lovely, quiet part of Australia, known mainly as a backdrop for the book and film Storm Boy, seen many times at school.
AdelaideWe returned to civilisation by staying in Hahndorf in the Adelaide Hills. Mum harked from Adelaide and we had many relatives there. Hahndorf is, as its name suggests, a German town which has attempted to preserve much of its heritage. Our caravan park included a dam with kayaks, which I learned to paddle, and a plague of millipedes. They were everywhere and they stank when you accidently squashed their curled up bodies.

Our time in Hahndorf was spent visiting relatives, exploring the Adelaide Hills and in school studies. We even drove down to the Yorke Peninsula and around the remains of the Cornish mines. I think my parents felt constricted by family, as if they had not escaped from the city life and so, after a couple of weeks, we moved on.
The Flinders RangesDriving northwest of Adelaide we stopped at Crystal Springs, camping amongst peppercorm trees and pink galahs. From there we drove on to my favourite location on the entire tripL the Flinders Ranges.

We stayed at the Rawnsley Caravan Park, a working sheep station north along a gravel road from the town of Hawker. The town once lay on the old railway line to Alice Springs, The railway sheds remained, but the tracks were long gone, diverted to the other side of the range. I regreted never having travelled on that train, but the town's school was kind enough to let us use their piano and library.

Our caravan overlooked Rawnsley Bluff, the side profile shaped like the face of a bearded man. The caravan park was wonderful fun for a young kid. The red earth gave way to easily flaked purple shale, the hitherto dry creek behind us flowed during Easter rains and we played with our plastic boats. We practiced compass navigation and bush walking. The only bad bit were the shower and toilet blocks, dirty and often full of scary giant moths attracted the lights.

We went bushwalking all over the place, from the relatively wet bush of Wilpenda Pound to the red dry cypress and pepper tree plains. Brachinia Gorge was especially interesting as we found quite a few fossils in the rocks. The Flinders Ranges were an uplifted seabed and contained some of the first multicellular fossils found on Earth.

Coal is another fossil product and we were taken on a tour of the Leigh Creek coalmine. The scale of the operations was incredible with huge draglines dumping rock into dump trucks with wheels taller than a standing adult. When I cracked open a lump of coal sitting a pile I discovered that it contained the imprint of a fossil fern. It seemed a pity that it was all destined to go up in smoke.

We did see the destination of the coal, driving through Port Augusta, the lead smelter of Port Pirie and the westernmost point of Australia that I have visited, the iron city of Whyalla.

Elsewhere in the Flinders we stayed at Wilmington, caught the Pichi Richi steam train on the last remaining old Ghan track, and tore a hole in my pants sliding down rocks. A classroom could never have taught the millions of years of history, biology and geology that we experienced at the Flinders Ranges. I hope to return someday.
Inland NSWWe now turned northeast, driving up through desert country to the South Australian border and Broken Hill. It wasn't entirely barren, there was spinifex grass and the red and black flowers of the sturt desert pea. At Broken Hill we went digging for wine red garnet crystals, bringing bag loads back with us. The caravan park adjoined a park with a squash coated disused steam engine that formed the centre of make-believe games.

From Broken Hill we drove on to Cobar, then Nyngan, ummemorable except for the mouse that crept into the two man tent I was staying in for some peace and quiet from the rest of the family. I knew a mouse had been around by the stench of its urine.

At Dubbo we fed peanuts to the elephants at the Western Plains Zoo. We had a longer stay in the Warrumbungles National Park outside of Coonabarabran. The facilities at the caravan park were pretty basic and the water-saving showers cold and miserly. The countryside was in the grip of a mouse plague, rendering the external caravan annex unilvable.

However, there were plenty of attractions in the area, volcanic plugs forming an interesting landscape with many bushwalks. Atop one hill was the Anglo Australian Observatory which housed the largest optical telescope in Australia and an excellent visitors centre. Closer into town was Miniworld, an amusement park with full size dinosaur sculptures including a spouting diplodocus and paddle boats in an artificial lagoon.

The area around Coonabarabran provided Mum and Dad with their first opportunity to explore alternative life when they visited a self-made mudbrick cottage on one of the farms. I can't say that I recal being impressed by this tiny house for four, but my parents came away determined to build their own house.

We had another astronomical experience further north at Narrabri, where a kind astronomer gave us a personal tour of the CSIRO Culgoora Radioheliograph, a spider web array of wire radiotelescopes for observing the Sun. Later on I would find myself employed by that same division of the CSIRO, although the a radioheliograph was, by then, replaced with an array of six radiotelescopes for observing more distant objects.
QueenslandI had never been to Queensland before and had a vision of the state as being a tropical paradise full of palm trees. The reality was definitely not a paradise, although there was the odd cabbage palm or livingstonia here and there.

Goondiwindi was an opportunity to catch up on some neglected schooling. We stayed at the showgrounds where the toilets were simply disgusting. There wasn't much to see around the rest of the town either. However, Goondiwindi will always, to me, be the place I learned my timestables, Dad drilling me on daily walks around the showring.

In Queensland we started searching for a place to live. We visited one property out in the middle of nowhere, no electricity, doubtful water supply, the only house a small wooden, possibly rat-infested, cabin. It did have a kind of charm, but I hate to think what would have become of us if we had lived in that isolated place.

Travelling north we explored a fossilised forest near Roma and discovered that Banana was named for a legendary yellow cow and not for the fruit. Mount Morgan proved to be a more interesting location. The big gold mine has closed, leaving a water filled crater, but one company was sorting through the tailings for traces of gold. We went on a guided tour of the mine. I was remprimanded for picking up an interesting stone on the ground, warned that it could contain cyanide from the gold extraction process.

The steep ride down the hills from Mount Morgan to Rockhampton was nerve-wracking. The caravan's brakes were overheating and threatened to fail, with potentially devastating consequences. Through slow and careful driving we made it down safely to Rockhampton, the largest city we had seen since Adelaide. There we stopped in a caravan bark on the banks of the crocodile infested Fitzroy River. The park was lined with poinsettia trees, their long black seed pods useful as play swords to bored kids. On the doors of the mens toliet cubicles some wag had grafittied an ongoing tale, which made for amusing reading.

After about a week we sought other accommodation, though the wanderlust was rapidly draining out of us and there was a sense that we should settle down. We got as far as the Uniting Church run Cool Waters camping resort beside the Causeway on the Capricorn Coast, less than sixty kilometres from Rocky.

Cool Waters was a pleasant place besides a lagoon and across from the beach. It had an emu infestation, the huge birds entering annexes and tents in search of food, leaving behind large circular wads of dung, sometimes containing multicoloured pebbles used to aid in digestion.

Dad had started to search for a plot of land for us to settle down on. Perhaps the experience of being back in a city had reignited a desire for some of the more materialistic aspects of life. Certainly the area that we were in was beautiful in comparison with the bleakness of inland NSW and Queensland.
A New HomeOn my tenth birthday I got a Meccano-like construction set and a first look at the land that would be our new home. It was a one hectare block on the western side of a bush covered hill, with spectacular views of the Berseker Ranges. We all agreed, it looked fantastic.


As the saying goes, looks can be deceiving and dreams only exist in the mind. We never built our on mudbrick home powered by the sun and never lived self-suffiently off the land. Instead we connected to the main power grid, paid someone else to build (poorly) a three bedroom pinewood building, not enough rooms as the family grew to six members and decided that communual living wasn't for us (I moved out into the no leaky caravan). Despite extending the leaky dam and building twin tanks we frequently ran out of water. There was rarely enough for more than two quick showers a week. Boring into the ground yielded nothing.

It wasn't all bad. We did have good crops of paw paw, mangoes, water melons and bananas. There was plenty of wildlife too, from the comical brush turkeys and frogs in the toilet. And every summer we would watch the massive fireworks shows of electrical storms over the range.

But for me the journey did not end in Queensland. It was not my home and I never stopped dreaming of an escape.