And a Wonderful Bunbury It Is Too

In "The Importance of Being Earnest," Jack Worthing has created an imaginary friend named Mr. Bunbury. Whenever he wants to get out of town on some holiday, he explains that he has to go and visit his sick friend, Mr. Bunbury. Thus he comes to refer to his fun adventures as "Having a Bunbury."

Today we started off on our next Bunbury...and our first stop was...the town of Bunbury!

Bunbury is about two hours south of Perth and I knew before I even got here that I had to visit the town of Bunbury before I left Australia. It is not, of course, like walking back in time to an Oscar Wilde story. Bunbury is the second largest city in Western Australia and is a bustling metropolis.

I have long bemoaned the "homogenization" of the United States, where you fly into any airport, get whisked to the nearest Holiday Inn, see the same fast food joints, read "USA Today" and leave without ever having experienced any "character" of the town which you've just visited.

Not only, apparently, has our industry infected the U.S., but other countries as well. Not only do you not know what city you're in, but in some cases, you may not know that country you're in. We turned off the freeway onto the main drag of Bunbury and what did we see: Target, K-Mart, KFC, McDonald's, Burger King, Woolworth's, and H&R Block. So much for local colour!

We stopped at K-Mart because I brought all warm weather clothes to Australia with me, and it's been a bit more chilly than we anticipated. I managed to find sweat pants and a sweatshirt for $18 total, which, when converted to U.S. currency, was an offer I couldn't refuse--and I'll be more comfortable now!

We ordered sandwiches from a take-away in the local mall and drove out to a deserted point overlooking the marina and ate, while watching the display of clouds, wind, and rain. Then we drove to the local tourist office, where I could pick up a couple of post cards, and then we checked town itself.

As the rain had stopped and the sun was out, we wandered along the estuary and watched seagulls and one obstinent pelican beg for food from picnickers (how do you discourage a pelican determined to share your hot dog?), but it was kind of cold so we decided to press on.

We had planned to stay at a nearby town called Busselton, but it was early enough that we decided to drive the 100 km to Margaret River, which was where we planned to begin our adventures the following day.

Janne and Chris had told me that the road south was quite different from what I'd seen thusfar, and they were right. The road to Margaret River takes you through rolling farmland, tall trees, and fields of calla lillies (I thought of Katharine Hepburn, as all the calla lillies were definitely in bloom...acres of them. Peggy calls them "death lillies."). Ultimately, we began to see vineyards. This is Australia's version of the Napa Valley. It's all wonderfully bucolic.

I don't know what there is about this place, but I have consistently been struck by how vivid colours are. From the azure of the Indian Ocean to the blue-blue of the sky contrasted with the beautiful cumulus clouds, to the emerald green of the fields and the purple and yellow bushes of wildflowers which lined our path. The place is electric. Perhaps it's the total lack of pollution which allows the true colours to display themselves to their fullest. (Peggy says it's because she finally cleaned my bloody glasses!)

We had come to Margaret River because our guide book to accommodations showed a myriad of places to stay and as this was mid-week, we figured there would be no problem finding a place. However, this is a popular tourist spot (the main drag boasts several surf shops, for example) and we began to worry when every single hotel/motel/B&B we passed had "no vacancy" signs hanging from it. We drove thru and out of town without seeing a single vacant place. Then we started on the side roads, wondering if we'd have to go back to a previously visited town to find a place to sleep.

Eventually we passed the Margaret River Resort and did not see a "no vacancy" sign, so I went in to enquire. Yes, they had a vacancy. Yes, it was double what we had paid anywhere north, but it was a special discount rate and it was there so I took it. Up to now we had spent only a fraction of what I had anticipated for accommodations anyway, so why not splurge?

And splurge we have. We have, again, a two room suite overlooking the forest. It comes with all the amenities and one could not ask for better.

We settled in and went into town to pick up food to heat up at home. We ended up getting beef satay, potato salad and cole slaw and heated the beef in our microwave, using the bakery bread we bought in Bunbury to sop up the gravy.

The hotel has provided us with a videotape of things to do in Margaret River (most of which involve wineries, which we probably will not visit, since neither of us drinks--though the chocolate factory is a definite possibility!), but we settled in to watch the 30 minute video, which was more entertaining than one would expect a commercial video to be. We are now armed with information about the local raptor center (expecting wonderful pix of bird of prey) and the local limestone caves to explore and so our day tomorrow is mapped out for us.

Why Didn't WE Think of That

Australians have a neat thing, for a country that is threatened with drought. They have designed toilets that are significantly more efficient than our water-guzzling monstrosities.

It took me a couple of days, wondering how you flushed anything with that little amount of water, to figure out that on the tank there are two buttons. Obviously the two buttons are for #1 or for #2. For little middle of the night piddles, button #1 does nicely. A little trickle of water and it's all gone. But for the heavy duty stuff, punch in #2 and away go troubles (and everything else) down the drain.

Why didn't we think of that?

While I have not traveled extensively, I have had occasion to visit a few other countries and it's the little differences that I find fascinating. It becomes a "why didn't we think of that" sort of thing.

Every time I go to plug anything in here, for example, I think of trying to vacuum or iron (yes, iron) at home, having to stop every so often to replug the machine into the socket--somehow nothing ever fits snugly and if you are using an appliance which tends to move around as you use it, the chance of the plug falling out of the socket is great. Here, no problem. The added safety feature is that the socket itself can be turned on or off.

Why didn't we think of that?

And then there's money. What color is our $1 bill? Green. And the $5? Green. And the $10? Green. And so on. Not so here. The money is all different colors (I didn't have a $10 bill when I took this picture, but it's a bright blue).

Not only is it different colors (making it easier for tourists to figure out what denomination they are handing over to pay for their faux aboriginal art work), but they are different sizes, which must make things easier for blind people to deal with. And the little plastic inserts which are imbedded into the paper portion of the money certainly cuts down on counterfeiting.

Why didn't we think of that?

Why am I thinking about cultural differences today? Well, basically this is the reason:

I crashed last night and couldn't keep my eyes open by 7:30. "Why don't you go to sleep," Peggy said, in exasperation after listening to me yawn over and over again. I went into the lounge and sat down to watch "Antiques Roadshow" and never got past the discussion about the value of boxes that used to be used to store tea in the colonies in the 1700s. Next thing I knew, Peggy was there asking if I always slept with my glasses on, and after she took them off of me, I didn't know anything until 1:30 when I woke to piddle (I knew you'd want to know--it was the #1 button) and check e-mail, and then didn't wake again until 6:15--latest I've slept here.

When I woke up, it was pouring rain. Pouring. The dogs wanted to go for a walk, but there just was no way. We sat here until about 9 until there was a break in the storm and then ran them off to the little park, until Keno pooped out and it started to rain again.

Since we are leaving tomorrow to head south, it's just as well that the weather is so bad today because it gave Peggy a chance to clean house and get ready. I felt like a real sloth, sitting in the lounge in the recliner, reading my John Grisham novel, but I knew that I would be more of a hinderance than a help to her and just sensed that she'd be more grateful for my sitting in a corner out of the way than actually trying to pitch in and help. ("I definitely don't want you dusting," she said over our plastic cheese-and-ham sandwiches. I shuddered, picturing me, a dustcoth, and her collection of ceramic zebras and other bric-a-brac. Not a good combination. I crept back to the recliner until it was all finished.)

But all that inactivity made me wonder what I would write about in my journal tonight (especially after Sue called and mentioned how much she enjoys reading it. Oh swell...the pressure to create something from nothing!)

So I started thinking about the things that I have found which are different here than at home. Like England, there seem to be more postal stations than actual post offices. We used to have postal stations in Davis, where you could buy your stamps or mail your packages at a local small shop, but no more. Now you have to stand in line with 3 dozen other frustrated Davisites. But here you get your stamps at the stationery store, or at the news vendor or other local shops. I really like that.

Australians also apparently invented the revolving clothesline. Now that might not mean much to Americans who are in love with their dryers, but I have to admit that in the past three weeks I've developed a grudging appreciation of the clothesline. There is something really...nice...about the smell of clothes fresh off the line (and, surprisingly, they seem to dry faster, in the breezes here, than they would in my dryer). The rotating cothesline means that you can stand in one place and hang clothes on all sides of it, rotating the line as you go (I didn't think of this at first and was convinced I would back up and fall off the wall of the level on which Peggy has her clothesline--but I think I've gotten past that). It also is great on a really windy day to sit here and watch the clothes line go spinning around and around. I have visions of it taking off like Mary Poppins some day.

(dog toys hanging out to dry)

(I may actually give some serious thought into erecting a clothesline when I get home. But then I might also have to learn how to iron....)

And while there may somewhere be a big supermarket comparable to Safeway or Albertson's, I haven't seen one. Peggy goes to the local shop, which is small, cramped, but seems adequately stocked (even with kangaroo bones, which she bought for the dogs the other day). The difference is that here you bag your own groceries. I remember when we were in Ireland and I went to the store with Nora, who was surprised when I just STOOD there waiting for my groceries to be put into a bag for me. No baggers. No person to take your bags to the car for you. You do it all yourself.

Well, not all cultual differences are an improvement.

Give 'Em the Axe

I know about team rivalries. I went to Berkeley, where the Big Game each year pitted Stanford against Cal and tempers flared, pranks were played, gloating was done by the fans of the winning team toward the fans of the losing team.

This morning, following yesterday's stunning win by Brisbane in the footy finals, Peggy couldn't help herself. She had to gloat over her friend Sue, in Melbourne. Thus we spent the morning crafting a brilliant cartoon which was e-mailed around noon.

(I know you can't read the words, but
it wouldn't mean anything to anybody else anyway.)

It was great for me because Peggy was working in PhotoShop, the gold standard for graphics imaging and I got a good "how to" lesson as she worked on the various components of the cartoon...which ultimately included about 20 different layers that she was manipulating--doesn't look like that, but this little thing took about 4 hours to craft. I was very impressed as I watched it come together.

With the dig at Sue accomplished, it was time for us to go off and have our own day.

Two years ago, in the days when Peggy actually did something with the photos she takes and made slide shows, she sent me a show from Lake Joondalup and for two years I've been wanting to go to Lake Joondalup. So, with nice weather here, this seemed the perfect day.

We had a lunch here, packed up the cameras, got in the car and drove to Lake Joondalup.

We walked past the picnic area and onto the foot path. Once you get past the sounds of kids playing, you'd be hard pressed to realize that you are just a short distance away from a housing development--and all the city offices as well as Edith Cowan University. It was like being in another world.

It's spring, of course, and so wildflowers were everywhere. I loved the airy-ness of it...no masses of color, just very subtle, but everywhere around you were standing ankle deep in color. Well, until we saw the snake slither across the path and someone told us it was "one of the bad ones" and that there were lots of them around. After that we didn't stand ankle deep in anything and kept our feet firmly on the path as we walked. (Australia is home to an incredible number of the most deadly snakes on the planet, you know. Enjoy your walk!)

With the profusion of wildflowers there was also a profusion of butterflies everywhere we looked. We spent a lot of time trying to get good photos (this was not an "ooohhh...what a great photo!" day, as we sat at our computers at the end of it reviewing the day's efforts!)

I also spent a lot of time trying to catch those spiders in the center of spider webs. It was the damndest thing--I could see them, I could aim my camera in their direction and as soon as I got the camera aimed, they would disappear. Oh, they'd still be there, but I could not for the life of me find a web in my viewfinder. I snapped lots of pictures, hoping I'd see them on the computer screen, but no dice. This one, however, was a success.

We stood at the edge of a reflecting pool and watched 28s (parrots) flying about in the trees. I heard my first kookaburra. We also watched a bit of the survival of the fittest. When we walked out to a platform over the lake, we were either watching a duck gang-bang, or a mass execution, as a gang of ducks simply would not leave this one duck alone and kept holding its head under water. I don't know what finally happened, as we left. Guess this was the real Ugly Duckling! (Kind of reminded me of the California recall election!)

It was, all in all, a lovely afternoon and we both came home sated with fresh air. Peggy got some washing out on the line and I fixed a Chinese dinner (which she enjoyed enough she went back for seconds; I call that high praise).

Now if I can keep my eyes open long enough, I'll get this posted and I suspect I'm going to be asleep very early tonight.

What it Was Was Aussie Rules Football

The U.S. has the Super Bowl. Australia has the Australian Football League finals.

Today was "footy day."

Nothing really had been planned. Well, nothing complicated. A guy was coming to fix the shower door "sometime before 12 o'clock" and then we would sit and watch the playoffs...and then we would have dinner at Janne and Chris' house.

Except for dinner, it didn't quite happen that way.

First of all, Peggy left me home to let the shower repair guy in so she could go grocery shopping. But he didn't come. By 11:45, she was on the phone to discover that the appointment never got on the books and he wasn't coming at all. He is now scheduled to be here Tuesday, which will probably delay our trip down south a bit.

But that's OK, 'cause it was almost time for footy! Even before I left the States, I had been told that this day was sacrosanct. No matter what we were doing, no matter where we might be, we would be home in time to watch the championship game. We planned our trip up north with that in mind, as well as next week's trip down south. So here we were: footy day. We had our meat pies. I had begun to learn the rules of the game. We were ready to settle in for the afternoon.

Only the TV decided to go on the fritz. It's been turning itself off after a couple of hours, but this morning it decided to turn itself off every few minutes. Peggy couldn't figure out why.

She tore out of here to drive to Janne & Chris's house to make arrangements to watch the game there (they were going out). We packed up our meat pies and other stuff and headed over there, where we spent the afternoon watching Brisbane clobber Collingwood (sorry, Sue). Fortunately, we had decided to support Brisbane in their attempt to march into AFL history by becoming the first team to win three championships in a row. The 134-84 win was pretty decisive. (Go, Bears! yeah, I know they're Lions, but I put that in there for Char)

Australian Rules Football is Australia's game. It was devised by one Tom Wills, his cousin H.C.A. Harrison, W.J. Hammersley and J.B. Thompson in 1858. By 1866, rules had been formalized competition took place and they haven't turned back since.

To watch it for the first time is to experience total chaos. At times it looks like American football. At times it looks like volleyball. At times it looks like wrestling. At times it looks like soccer. All the time it looks like some guys who are making up the rules as they go along. The pace is fast and furious. There is no protective gear and bodies fly up into the air (and smash down onto the ground) with great regularity. This is no game for sissies.

I've now seen several games and am getting a teensy inkling of the rules and goals.

It's played on an oval playing field and there are goal posts similer to football, only there are four of them--two short and two tall (the taller are in the middle). If the ball goes through the tall posts, it's 6 points. If it hits the post or goes between the tall and the short posts, it's 1 point (at least I think that's the basic rule).

The game starts when the ball--which looks like a flattened football, and which must have the consistency of a greased pig, given how easily it slips out of everyone's hands--is bounced on the ground. Then people start chasing it around--they can kick it, throw it, lob it, hit it. There is very little stopping for time outs. There are 18 men on each team, so 36 on the field at all times, and no offensive and defensive lines. When you begin to see some sort of organization in this chaos, you realize it's quite a fascinating game.

The finals have some similarity to the Super Bowl, but it lacks the media hype. You don't pay a bazillion dollars for commercials and given the commercials that did air in the brief moments after a goal was made, ain't nobody gonna watch this show for the entertainment value of the commercials. In fact, most of them were not even poor network quality commercials.

There is a big whoop-dee-doo before the game, which was broadcast, but if there is a fancy schmancy half-time show, it doesn't get broadcast to the television viewing public (that's when we were eating our meat pies anyway).

Those (especially those in my family) who have watched my disinterest in most things sports for the last many years will probably be surprised to hear how much I enjoyed myself this afternoon. I'm kind of sorry the season is over. (But I'm glad Brisbane won...)

When the game was over, we considerately cleaned up Janne and Chris's house ('cause they were having company for tea, you know) and came home for a couple of hours until time to go back to Janne and Chris's house as their guests for tea. They had made an authentic Australian roast dinner (leg of lamb with all the trimmings) which was delicious.

It was a fun evening, the tone for which was set when Chris pointed out that she had spilled something on herself and Janne said "Oh, you pulled a 'Bev,' have you?"

Sigh. Long after I've gone, people in Australia will be talking about anybody who is sloppy or uncoordinated or a little bit odd as a "Bev."

Well, at least I'll be remembered here. I won't just be some generic "Sheila."

Up Periscope

I was all prepared. I'd done my homework. I'd studied up on the Batavia, which shipwrecked off the coast of Australia in 1629. It was the country's second oldest shipwreck (the first was a ship belonging to The East India Company in 1622.)

The Batavia is noteworthy because of (a) her history, and (b) the fact that the wreck was discovered within the last 40 years, and so it's a very big deal around here.

The shipwreck was a prelude to an extraordinary tragedy. Commander Francisco Pelsaert, all the senior officers, some crew and passengers, 48 in all, deserted 268 people, on the wreck and on two waterless islands, whilst they went in search of water. Abandoning the search on the mainland coast, they made their way to Batavia (modern Jakarta), to obtain help; the journey took 33 days. On arrival, the high boatswain was executed, on Pelsaert's indictment, for outrageous behaviour before the loss of the ship. Skipper Adrien Jacobsz was arrested for negligence. The Governor General dispatched Pelsaert in the jacht Sardam to rescue the survivors. With extraordinary bad luck, it took 63 days to find the wreck site, almost double the time it took the party to get to Batavia. At the Abrolhos, Pelsaert discovered that mutiny had taken place. A small group of mutineers had massacred 125 men, women and children. Pelsaert arrested the mutineers and executed some of them.

When the Sardam finally returned to Batavia, some of the lesser offenders, who had been flogged, keelhauled and dropped from the yard arm as punishment on the voyage, were executed. Out of 316 people aboard the Batavia, only 116 survived. Pelsaert died in the following year. For the VOC it was a political and financial disaster. In the years that followed the events were not forgotten, a book was published entitled Ongeluckige Voyagie van't schip Batavia and it was through this and Pelsaert's Journal that the wreck was finally rediscovered.

See? I'd done my reading. We were planning to go to the new Maritime Museum in port city of Fremantle and I was eager to see the Batavia and its recovered contents.

But. Uh. One little problem. Contrary to what we thought, the Batavia is not housed in the new maritime museum at all, but in a nearby museum dedicated to the history of shipwrecks off Australia's treacherous coastline and we never did see her.

However, despite that, it was a lovely excursion. We were joined today by Janne, who had the day off, and the 3 of us set off around 10:30. Peggy found a great parking space only a mile from the museum (ok--slight exaggeration, but after our forced march across the sands, the shop area, over fences, and thru woods we came to the real parking lot, with spaces just steps from the front door--so I feel justified in giving her a bit of a hard time).

The museum is modern and slick and well arranged. I learned a bit about the fishing industry in Australia (and also learned that Australia interned Italians during WWII...I know the black history of the US in interning Japanese I guess I never realized that we were not the only country to do such a thing).

There is an impressive display for Jon Sanders and his ship the Parry Endeavour, in which he sailed around the globe 3 times, alone. The ship is tilted at the angle that it was during storms. There is a display of some of the items that he took with him, along with a list, which included something like 50 jars of vegemite...no wonder he travelled alone.

The premier display piece, however, is the Australia II, in which Australia took the Americas cup from the US in 1983. It's a marvelous display with all of its crew on board, in wax figure form (of course they looked authentic to me, but what do I know?) A huge sailboat. Very impressive. Peggy took a 3-picture series that she stitched togther that may give a teeny hint

When we finished with the museum itself, we took a tour of the HMAS Ovens, a submarine launched in December of 1967 and commissioned in April of 1969. It had the capacity to launch up to 9 torpedos and as they are now guided electronically, the guys guiding the torpedos probably got their training with Mario Brothers and advancing levels of computer games.

Our tour guide...I think his name was Nick...was an old submariner himself and warmed to his tale. We were constantly being prodded ahead by the tour groups coming behind us because Nick had gotten so wrapped up in his stories and descriptions about the ship and about life in a submarine.

When that tour was over, we had the forced march past the empty museum parking lot, back across the fences and sand dunes and scrub to get to the car before it was ticketed for being parked too long. Then we went off to the market for lunch, wandering around the shops, and eating ice cream while watching the ships pull into the port at Fremantle for loading.

We drove home along the coast and stopped to watch a bunch of guys parasailing.

We would have been home in time for tea (dinner) but we were both still full from the late lunch and the ice cream, so we're just relaxing and getting ready for tomorrow's strenuous day, watching the footy playoffs, eating meat pies, and having tea at Janne & Chris's when it's all over.

I'd Walk a Mile for a Camel

...more like drive about 200 miles and no camels at all.

When you think of Australia, you don't immediately think of camels, but our big plan that was rained out yesterday was to drive up to a place called Clackline, the location of the Blue Gum Camel farm where you can learn to ride a camel under supervision or go on a 5km or 10km trek. Peggy thought it would be something different and something fun. This is a trip about firsts for me, so what the hell.
We set out for Clackline around 10 a.m. and made good time. Along the way we stoped to ooh and aaah over more beautiful wildflowers.
The road in spots reminded me of the highway up to Lake Tahoe, only instead of evergreens on the landscape, there were eucalyptus trees, showing black-like tree trunks instead of bushy pine needles.
We made it to Clackline shortly before noon and dutifully turned at the sign pointing to the Blue Gum Camel Farm and then we drove. And drove. And drove. And drove. Not a single hump did we see.
We finally stopped at a tavern and asked a woman where the farm was and she pointed us 15 km back in the direction from whence we'd come, but added that she didn't think there were camels there any more, and that they had all moved to Whiteman Park...back in Perth.
We decided we weren't going to be too disappointed. We had already taken a beautiful ride in the car and now we drove another 10 km or so into the town of Northam, where we picked up sandwiches and coffee at a coffee shop and then out to the Avon (the "a" is as in the word "has," not the word "save") river, where we sat and ate lunch and watched two swans building a nest.
We also stopped back in Clackline at "The Famous Bakers Hill Pie Shop" to pick up meat pies to have during the Footy championship game on Saturday.
Then we drove to Whiteman Park. It was a little confusing getting there at first because the navigator (me) had left all the maps at home, so Peggy was going on memory, but she managed to get there unerringly. There was a sign entering the park, saying that for now, admission was free. Peggy figured that probably meant no real attractions (like camel rides) available (she was right). But the park also contained the Caversham Wildlife Park and we decided as long as we were there, we might as well go through the park, though the sight of a field of school kids did not bode well for quiet enjoyment of the animals.
Later, I told Peggy that everything happens for a purpose. We had driven about 200 miles out of our way to a place she never ever would have thought about taking me, and we had an absolutely fantastic afternoon. In spite of the fact that, figuring we would be spending time on a camel, I had left my "good" camera at home. In spite of the fact that Peggy ran out of room on HER good camera. In spite of the fact that we only saw about a quarter of the park. It was a great day!
We paid our entry fee and went into the animal part of the park and the first thing we saw were jumping mice, who were sleeping, not jumping. Then we tried to find a skink, but it was hidden. Things were not looking promising.
Next was a big cage of galahs. Unlike the cage in Kalbarri, this was a large cage and the birds seemed happy and definitely friendly. We spent a long time with these birds, photographing them and scratching their heads, which they seemed to relish.
Next we moved into an open-air cage filled with lorikeets. We had fed lorikeets at the San Diego zoo on Peggy's trip over to the States, and this wasn't quite the same, but still we got up close and personal with several of the colorful birds. And by now the park was getting very quiet, as all the school children seemed to have left.
We moved on to the wallabies, and then the barking owls (they really do sound like barking dogs!) and then the kangaroo enclosure.
The kangaroo enclosure!
I don't know how long we were there--perhaps an hour. We shot dozens of photos and brief digital movies. We outwaited several groups that came and went. We just stayed and stayed and stayed.
This is a place where the roos are tame and have this great huge enclosure and the park provides a big bin full of food that you can scoop up by the handful to feed the animals. Many of the females have joeys in their pouches who peek out at you. It's hard to describe, but it was just....magic. That's the only word I have for it.
Peggy took lots of photos with her better camera, but she seems to have dozed off, so I think this journal is going to be stuck with mine...but mine aren't all that bad either.
It all started with this little guy. Peggy managed to get a digital movie of this baby climbing back in his mom's pouch. I went and got some food and started feeding her and trying to take a photo with the other hand while mom's neck was stretched upwards. The joey's legs hung out of her pouch like this for the longest time. She eventually hopped away from where we were feeding her and we later found her over in what I decided to call "the nursery" section of the park, where there seemed to be a lot of moms with swollen pouches and/or tiny joeys hopping around next to them. This mother was relaxing by the fence, baby's feet still dangling from her pouch.
Once we had discovered this section of the enclosure, we just went crazy, quietly walking around, taking movies and pictures of the moms and babies.
Eventually, the battery in Peggy's good camera died, the memory stick in her other camera was filling up, and I was nearly out of room in my camera too, so we decided that we would skip the rest of the park and come back another day.
On our way out, I discovered they also had mother/baby koalas and when I checked the website for the park, I see that you can actually hold a koala.
Caversham Park is just 15 minutes from Peggy's house, but this visit would never have happened if we hadn't decided to go for a camel ride this morning. We still want to try to do that (but next time we'll call ahead to check on location and availability first!). But we came home feeling just great because we'd had an unexpected treat and a delightful afternoon.
What's more we were able to heat up meat pies for dinner, so nobody had to cook.

Doing My Bit for the Australian Economy

We had a new wrinkle on our morning walk today. Ann joined us with Khasi, another German Shorthair Pointer, who is Chippa's best friend. Seeing the two of them together is really something and it was fun watching them chase each other all thru the bush while the rest of us walked along chatting.

The dogs like it when Ann comes because she brings a water bottle along so they are able to stop and get a drink when they get thirsty (the photo on the right is is Chippa helping herself). From the way they take to the bottle, it makes you wonder how they've made it all this time without having the chance to take a water break before now!

At the end of the walk, we tried to get everyone lined up for a photo, which was a near impossibility, but since the dogs are the important ones, I'll forego the photo with everyone's face in it and go for the photo which shows the dogs to best advantage. They are, from left to right:

Keno, Chippa, Khasi, Connie, and Molly

Peggy had checked the radar map on the internet this morning and discovered that there was no rain in sight anywhere so we made big plans for the day. I'd say what they were, but it's such a nice title for an upcoming entry, that I think I'll hold off.

Suffice it to say that Internet radar predictions are not 100% accurate.

We were on our way to....there when it kept getting darker and darker and drizzled heavier and heavier. We decided that was probably not a good idea, so Peggy suggested that we go into Perth to shop.

When she was in the States, the concept of "downtown" was foreign to her. Here, what we would call "downtown" is the actual city of Perth and the outlying areas, which we would consider part of the city, are their own little burgs (suburbs). So, for the yanks, we went downtown. For the Aussies, we went into Perth.

It was my first real shopping day since I've been here, and I must say that the Australian economy is much the better for it. I have do-dads and gigaws up the ying yang. I've seen every bloody piece of ceramic, cloth, and plastic this country has with "Australia" written across it or koalas stamped on it...and acquired a number of those things for myself.

We did stop in one store to look at shoes (since we hadn't bought shoes in at least 3 days). I always dread that horrible "shoe buying experience," and knew that I had to get something to wear with my lovely "mother of the groom" outfit that we bought my first day here. Shoes. Yuck. Hate 'em.

But Peggy, the shoe maven, walked into the store, picked out a pair that she thought would work, the clerk went and got my size (amazing that they carried boats that large), they fit, and within a matter of minutes I had my wedding shoes.

The only reason the entire transaction took half an hour was that while she was waiting for me to decide about my own shoes, Peggy found shoes that she liked too and apparently the department was storing them in outer Mongolia because it took forever to bring out her size. But they fit, looked great on her, only cost half the amount of her house payment or her next new camera, and she was happy.

We stopped in the food court for a sandwich, made another tour through the shops, and finally, as we headed back to the car, the sun came out.

I realized that I hadn't taken a single photo all day long, except for the ones I took at the park this morning. But it was just too crowded and grey and not very photographically interesting (because of the weather and the crowds, and the construction going on in the center of the plaza). I finally took a photo from the top of the car park, just so I could say I was there.

When we got home, the dogs were at first ecstatic to see us, and then uncharacteristically disappeared. The reason was immediately clear. They had gotten into some stuff that Peggy had stored on top of a dresser in her bedroom and had torn up a book and part of a gift we had purchased for me to take home (sorry, Diane!). We got that all straightened up and then Peggy went outside and discovered my "knickers" (which I'd left drying on a rack in the bathroom) lying on the patio. I may forgive her for telling the little girl next door (who was visiting) that it was such a huge job to transport my "Bombay Bloomers" outside that it must have taken both dogs to handle it. But I haven't decided yet. Keno and Chippa are both female dogs, but they aren't the only two bitches in this house. Harumph.

The plan had been for me to cook dinner tonight, but we're both full from the late lunch and the fruit smoothie that we got on our way back to the car, so it's leftovers for dinner and perhaps tomorrow the radar will be accurate for a change and I can use that great journal title I came up with this morning.

On My Own

I knicked down to the shops to pick up some rice this afternoon.

I'm not only getting into the lingo around here, but I've had my first experience all on my own. Wow--and after only two weeks.

"It's nice that we could have a relaxing day," I said to Peggy earlier.

"WHAT?," she replied.

Yeah--I remembered. It was a relaxing day for me. Some of us actually did work around the place today.

We got the dogs to the "little park" at 6:40, in between storms. She had already washed and hung up the first load of clothes, and with how the wind was whipping around, they were dry and the line ready for the second load by the time we came back.

The "little park" was a different experience from taking the dogs to the cemetery. I should explain that "the cemetery" is not what you'd expect. Yes, there is a graveyard there, but the cemetery sits on acres of bush land, so where we walk the dogs is far away from where anybody is ever buried (or likely to be buried in our lifetime). The dogs go bounding through the bush, chase roos and rabbits, etc. The "little park" is just that: a park. Lawn, sandbox, trees. That sort of thing. We wandered around up and down, back and forth, and the dogs foraged under the bottlebrush. I came across a fuzzy caterpillar, Cockatoos flew overhead, parrots (28s and rosellas) flew up into trees. A wattle bird scolded me for coming too close to her nest.

And in 20 minutes we were back in the car and back to home.

I hung up the second load of wash. I'm discovering that reaching up and hanging clothes on a clothesline is good exercise for my arm--in fact, my arm is feeling almost normal again and we will probably go biking one of these weeks.

When the wash was done, I came in here to my computer and started putting photos on the Net, while Peggy did a third (?and fourth) load of wash, cleaned all the red dirt from the trip out of the car, folded clothes, washed down the bathroom, fed the dogs, cleaned up the yard, and several other dozen things.

"Get into the car," she said. We went to a place where she could wash the car ("What can I do?" I asked. "Sit there and read," she said, grabbing hoses and wax and getting to work), then we went to a mall, did some shopping, decided on what to have for dinner and then she took me to lunch.

Next off to Janne and Chris's where Peggy helped Chris install some software on her computer and invited the two of them to join us for "tea" (dinner).

Yes, it certainly was nice "we" had such a relaxing day.

So when Peggy noticed she might not have enough rice for all of us for dinner and was about to drive off to the store, I noted that it was close by and I probably could find it myself without getting lost or killing myself or anyone else.

Dubiously, Peggy pointed me at the footpath and gave me instructions on how to walk the three blocks to the market, and gave me a shopping list and by golly, I found (a) the shopping center, (b) the market, (c) all the necessary ingredients (I even improvised and bought some milk for cereal for me), and (d) my way back home, without getting lost. I done good.

We got dinner prepared for the four of us and laughed a lot through the meal. Peggy and Janne went outside to have a smoke while Chris and I did the dishes. And now we're back at our respective computers working on the net and trying to decide what we're going to do tomorrow.

"Do you want me to cook dinner tomorrow night?" I asked.

Peggy got this wary look in her eye..."how much mess do you make when you cook?" she asked, knowing full well what a klutz I am.

Sigh.

Maybe I'll boil potatoes. Easy. No mess.

'Tain't a Fit Night Out

Fortunately, yesterday was a travel day; it was not a day conducive to doing much sightseeing.

As we got up and began packing the car, the skies kept getting darker and darker. Rain had been predicted and for once the weather persons got it right. It didn't rain continually, but it rained enough that this was not a day we were going to meander off the road and wander into fields to take pictures of anything, dead or alive.

We didn't even make a real rest stop. Peggy had packed up a thermos of coffee and the sausages from the previous night's barbecue and we pulled off at one point, trying to balance all on our knees, making sandwiches out of the sausages, drink our coffee, and get back on the road again. We made record time back into Geraldton.

We had called ahead to the place where we stayed on our way up. We had been so pleased with our accommodations in unit 22 that we decided to go back and requested the same suite--two bedrooms, kitchenette, living room, great internet connection, etc.

When we arrived, we were told that the folks in 22 loved it so much they'd decided to stay, so they'd put us in a different room. And since it "wasn't quite as large," they'd knock $2 off the price.

They should have knocked $20 off the price, for what we got. But still it had that great ocean view, which we could almost see through the torrential downpour which began shortly after we got the car unloaded. But that was OK, because the footy game was about to begin, so we settled in and watched Subiaco get destroyed by W. Perth, by which time the rain had subsided enough that we could think about what to eat for dinner.

With no kitchenette in which to fix anything, we opted for take-away and went to "Chicken Treat," where we got chicken, chips, and fried pineapple rings--with cheesecake for dessert. We ate our entire week's allotment of grease and fat in one meal (I came home, weighed myself and discovered I lost 2 kg on this trip--Peggy kept me away from food and on my feet walking and climbing all over Western Australia).

After dinner, we settled in to read, and both found ourselves dozing off at 7:30, so we both ended up going to sleep at that time. That meant, of course, that we were awake long before dawn and had our first up of coffee at 3:30 a.m., after which we read some more, dozed some more, and finally got up and going around 6, packing the car and on the road by 7:30.

The original plan was to drive down to the town of Jurian, find some place to spend the night, and then visit The Pinnacles Desert, part of Naumbung National Park. I had seen postcards of The Pinnacles, and Peggy (who had never been there) had, of course, heard about The Pinnacles. But with the weather looking as bad as it was, we decided to skip it and just head back to Perth.

However, as we drove along, we hit patches of blue and we checked the map and decided we could do both--see The Pinnacles and get home in time for dinner. We turned our wheels toward Jurien.

Despite our familiarity with the place through photos, we weren't prepared for just how impressive it actually is. It consists of thousands of limestone monoliths rising up out of the sandy plain, looking--I can't help but continue to make showbiz references--like the set for some weird science fiction movie.

We drove the loop around the stones and stopped several places to take photos, climbed up to the overlook where you could see the stones, the sand dunes beyond, and the ocean beyond that. We were very glad we'd come, though we were windblown, had sand in our teeth, and it was about to rain again.

We briefly considered staying in Jurian after all, but decided that when we hit the bakery for steak and mushroom pie and the coffee shop for cappucino, which we enjoyed in the car, overlooking the beach, we had pretty much seen the high points of Jurian, and "dog soup" was sounding awfully good for dinner, so we got back on the highway and arrived back in Padbury around 3:30.

We've had everybody come around to see us since we've been home. The little girl next door was here within half an hour; Janne and Chris (who had been taking care of the dogs) stopped by for coffee; and Monty and Carolynn were here to pick up Monty's laptop and get Peggy's computer hooked back up again.

Now the storm is raging outside once again, the furnace is turned up, and sleep is sounding mighty good right about now. Tomorrow I suspect we're going to be washing, vacuuming, unpacking, and getting back to normal until the next adventure.

Nice Weather for Dolphins

They predicted that a storm might blow in today. When I awoke at 2:30 a.m., it was to the sound of the wind howling. I slept fitfully for the rest of the night, always waking to the sound of the wind. Was it going to rain and ruin our chances of seeing the dolphins, the ultimate reason for this trip?

Surprisingly, when morning came, the sun came with it, and the wind had died. There was hope after all. We had breakfast and got on the road as early as possible. It's a 27 km drive to Monkey Mia.

'Mia" (pronounced "my-ah") is an Aboriginal word meaning "place." Despite what one might think, this is not "the place of monkeys." The Monkey was the name of the ship which brought surveyor Ommanney to Shark's Bay to evaluate the place with respect to fishing. The spot where Ommanney's ship docked became known as "Monkey Mia." The whole Shark Bay area became famous for both fishing, and also for pearling. (The booklet says that at one time the streets were paved with mother-of-pearl.) One of the attractions at Monkey Mia today is an excursion boat which will take you out to the old pearl farm.

But we had come for the dolphins. Sometime in the 1960s bottleneck dolphins started visiting the Bay and interacting with humans. Over the years the keepers of the park have worked this habit of the wild dolphins into a tourist attraction. Up to 25 dolphins have been known to visit. They come on their own and are fed up to 3 times a day between 8 a.m. and 1 p.m. They don't feed them after 1 because they don't want them to become dependent on humans for food.

There is no real timetable--it's all up to the dolphins--and there is no way to predict which dolphins (or how many) will show up on any given day or any given time. It's the beauty of this place--the dolphins are still wild and whatever interactions they have with humans is of their own free will, much as the pelicans at Kalbarri.

When we were at Kalbarri (and at home in Perth), I loved watching the pink and gray Gallahs flying around and nesting in the trees. In our apartment complex in Kalbarri there was a caged Gallah who greeted everyone with a cheery "hello" and, as his owner told me, "wouldn't stop talking." It's a beautiful bird and it made me sad to see him cooped up in a too-small cage, while other Gallahs were flying overhead into the palm trees.

So I loved being at Monkey Mia, where the dolphins are in charge and the people only there to observe.

It was immediately apparent that the Park Service had worked this into a real money-maker. I had initially thought we would be staying at Monkey Mia, in one of the cottages just steps from the water's edge. When it was already booked and we ended up being 27 km away, I was slightly disappointed. But all along on this trip, we have had calm, quiet places to stay, balconies to enjoy the ocean views, and the chance to relax. Immediately stepping into the hustle and bustle of Monkey Mia, walking through souvenir shops, playgrounds, and crowds of people made me just as glad that we were on the other side of the peninsula.

We had missed the first feeding, so we wandered around a bit. There are pelicans here too, who seem to have permanently settled into the beach and ignore the tourists who sneak up on them for photos. I thought this guy's picture with the Australian flag was wonderfully appropriate for this whole week's trip.

We booked a 2-1/2 hour boat tour on the Aristocat, which has a glass bottom and which would take its passengers out to see the dolphins and the dugongs and other marine life and give instructional information. It sounded like fun and I booked for the 1:30 sailing, figuring we would have had a chance to see the dolphins coming in for feeding at least once before the catamaran left.

The problem was that the front the weather people had talked about was moving in. The skies were getting darker, it was getting colder and what had started out as a lovely day was beginning to look not so lovely.

Peggy went back to the car to get a jacket and I walked down to the water's edge and there, amazingly, were two dolphin fins. Mickey and her baby had come for a feed. The crowd began to gather and I began to be afraid Peggy would miss it all (but she arrived shortly after that--I didn't realize the dolphins hung around for so long).

The woman with the microphone got out into the water and began talking about the dolphins, which ultimately numbered, this time, four in all.

We just continued to snap photos. I could tell I wasn't getting good pictures, so I just put my camera away, trusting that Peggy would get something better, and she did get some amazing shots.

The crowd (by American standards this crowd would hardly be noticeable, which was one nice thing about being here!) was asked to step back out of the water and individuals were invited in to feed the dolphins. (We were not invited, but that was OK; I probably would have fallen onto one of them anyway!)

When all the fish was gone, the dolphins knew it and headed back out to sea and the crowd dispersed. We went to the cafe to get coffee and scones and review our photos. The rain, which had been threatening, moved in at this point and we watched the choppy water and saw the downpour and decided that perhaps our scheduled boat ride was ill-advised. Peggy had visions of me spending the whole trip hanging over the side of the boat.

So I was able to get a refund on the reservation and we decided to head back to the cottage in Denham. As we got on the road, the rain stopped, but by the water was still choppy so we continued on back. We tried to visit the Francois Peron park, but the sign said that it was accessible only by 4 wheel drive and even though Peggy was now getting into all this rough road driving, we decided not to chance it.

Instead, we followed a road to "Big Lagoon" (such an imaginative name) and found a deserted beach, calm, smooth water, and total peace. We got out and walked along the sand and I picked up a few shells and took a small sample of the red earth, to remember how unique this place is. It was the perfect stop and as we were walking along, Peggy happened to casually mention that we would probably be back at the cottage in time for the footy game (another semi-final Australian rules football game, leading up to next Saturday's playoffs). She had been such the perfect hostess that when I booked the cruise, she didn't even mention the two games that were scheduled to be broadcast that afternoon, but now that the cruise was off, the game was on and we immediately got back in the car.

The right team won the first game, the wrong team won the second and in between, Peggy barbequed lamb chops and sausages for dinner. I got caught up in the games and watched both (but admit to dozing off before the end of the second).

We were both exhausted at the end of the day, and asleep before 8:30 (I got up at 3:30 a.m. to write this). It was the last day of relaxing. Tomorrow we head back to Geraldton (where I'll finally be able to post these entries!) and the next day we'll either be in Cervantes to see the Pinnacles, and back to Perth on Tuesday, or head directly to Perth tomorrow, depending on the weather.

Dead Roo in the Middle of the Road

Several years ago, when Jeri was doing summerstock in Ohio, we went to visit her for a long weekend. On that weekend, I proclaimed Ohio as the "road kill capitol of the country." I never saw so many dead opossums and skunk as I did that weekend. The "Roadkill Restaurant" could be a real possibility in Ohio.

While Ohio may have it over the outback in quantity, Australia beats it all to heck in quality. When there is roadkill here, there is roadkill, by gum! On our trip from Kalbarri to Denham, we counted 6 dead kangaroos, 3 rabbits, a couple of lizards, and one emu. Now that's something you're not likely to encounter in Ohio.

The emu was particularly exciting. We found it because Peggy spied the eagle which was tearing it up and she skreetched the car to a halt. As she did, a cloud of feathers went flying up off the road like some real-life Roadrunner cartoon.

We circled back, trying to get a photo of the eagle, but it flew off to a nearby tree, a piece of the emu's flesh hanging from its talons. Peggy was able to get a good photo before it flew off into the bush, to be attacked by crows, who ended up stealing the meat. It was like watching Wild Kingdom without the TV.

Now how often do you get to see that along I-5, I ask you!!

For a day which progressed in such a bloody fashion, it had a rather benign beginning. We checked out of our apatment and went down at 8:45 to the spot where they feed pelicans each day.

It's a great show. The birds fly in right on time and the woman with the bucket of fish gives a lecture about pelican life and lets spectators toss fish to the birds, who squabble over each piece and, when the bucket is empty, fly off again. I was having camera trouble with my main camera, but fortunately had my new little Casio, so managed to get lots of photos anyway.

When feeding time was over, we got right on the road headed for Denham, a 400 km drive from Kalbarri. We were definitely out of wildflower country. The bush may look like a set for Star Trek's first season, but this is real.

Amazingly, in the middle of all this desloation, we came over a hill and found some of Western Australia's finest (police), who were pulling cars over for a routine traffic inspection. They were checking everyone's driver's license and registration, and giving them a breath test, to check for drunk driving--maybe the cause of all those dead animals we'd been passing. The experience did give me a chance to get a picture of Peggy blowing into a tube for the nice officer.

We had a good laugh about this--imagining what the folks in Perth would say when they heard--when suddenly Peggy swerved hard and let out an expletive. I quickly glanced up and saw an emu's head just by the driver's side window. The thing had run out in front of the car, and it was just luck (and, of course, Peggy's skilled driving) which had prevented us from hitting the huge bird. We circled back to make sure the thing had escaped (I'm not sure what we would have done if he had been injured) but there was no sign of him. I wonder if his heart was beating as fast as Peggy's was.

Onward and onward toward Denham, our final destination for the night. We made a side stop at Shell Beach, where millions of small white Fragum cockles have accumulated over time to create this unique environment. There is no sand on this beach--it is nothing but these tiny white shells. It is estimated that in some spots the shells are 10 meters deep. The beach itself stretches for over 120 kilometers around L'Haridon Bight and, when we arrived, it was totally deserted. For hermit Peggy, having an entire beach to herself was like dying and going to heaven....

...until the busload of Italian tourists marched over the hill, looking like the final scene of Fellini's 8-1/2 (especially since some of the women carried parisoles).

I could see people wading very far out into the bay, still only up to mid-calf depth, so I decided to take off my shoes and socks and paddle a bit myself. The water was deliciously cool, not at all cold. A good beach to take small kids--no waves, no undertow, safe depth and no sand to stick in all those chubby folds. I didn't go as far out as a lot of folks because Peggy was sitting on the beach, camera in hand, and I just knew that if I pressed my luck, I'd end up falling on my bum, giving her the perfect photo op.

One more stop on our way to Denham was "Eagle Bluff," purported to be the home of osprey and offering an opportunity to observe marine creatures--dolphins, dugongs and sea turtles--from a bird's eye perspective. The road was probably the worst we have encountered, with the soft sand so deep that the car had no traction whatsoever, and the hard surfaces so bumpy, Peggy was afraid she'd leave a few hupcaps behind. The view was indeed spectacular, but we saw no osprey nor marine life. Still it was lovely being on that high place, totally alone, with a vista that stretched for miles.

On the ride back to the main road, Peggy was determined to beat the poor driving conditions and did her best imitation of an Indy-500 stock car racer, staying off the flat part of the road and hugging the sloped sides. I, wimp that I am, was convinced the whole way that we were going to tip over, so it was a white knuckle ride for me, as Peggy cackled about what a chicken I was.

Finally Denham. We are staying at the Seaside Tourist Village, a place which was located for us by the Tourist Center in Kalbarri. Good thing to have planned ahead, as there seem to be no vacancies here as well. This is primarily a camping ground, but with some cabins. We are in #13, which may or may not bring us bad luck. But we again have a glorious view of the ocean. Shortly after we arrived, a young kangaroo hopped through the park and stopped right across the road from us for a snack of the palm tree fronds.

As the sun set, I walked down to the sand dunes just a few feet from our front door and sat taking photos of the glorious display. All in all, another wonderful day in Paradise.

Gorgeous Gorge

Today was the day to visit Kalbarri National Park.

There is much to recommend Kalbarri as a recreational area---water sports, marine life, fishing, among others, but it is most recognizable for the gorge through which flows the Murchison River, and its coastal cliffs. We have become quite familiar with both.

We had breakfast on the balcony, watching the sun come up and listening to the birds chattering in the trees. Before I left on this trip, Olivia had suggested that I bring a tape recorder and record bird sounds, since I will hear songs here that I have not heard before. I did that this morning, and have a recording of bird songs, car noises, and the conversation of a cabbie picking up some folks leaving the complex. I will probably record more tomorrow. Probably a tape I'll never play, but fun to have.

We decided to get an early start for the gorge, so were on the road by 8:30. It's a 27 km drive in from the place where you pay your fee to get to the gorge....27 km of unpaved, sandy road (Mike Blackford would have loved it). We were the only car on the road.

We arrived at our first stop, "The Loop," a hike where there are several places overlooking the gorge (you can also take an 8 km circle walk, which we decided we had no time for...and after trying to climb up and down the rocks like a mountain goat--which I definitely am not--I knew that this would be for persons more agile and sure-footed than myself!).

The guidebook describes the gorge as "only a few million years young." The Murchison river ate through the tumblagooda sandstone to carve out a winding gorge which, while not as spectacular as the Grand Canyon, is gorgeous in its own way. The cliffs are a mosaic of color, formed by the bands of red and purple and white, rich with fossil remnants.

Our destination was "Nature's Window," a 400 meter hike/climb down from the car park to a natural rock arch that frames the upstream view and is an ideal photo-taking spot.

We had the place all to ourselves until a busload of tourists arrived and then that place of natural beauty, which took your breath away, suddenly became a tourist mecca, funny pictures being taken, and somehow the mood altered a bit.

We hiked back up to the car and drove on to Z-bend, another viewing spot, a 1 km circle walk from the car park. This one was all downhill (the climb back up was interesting) but the view was even more spectacular, looking up the river through the cliffs, watching the more agile climbers make their way down to the river itself. I gave thanks more than once that I'm carrying less weight this year and, though sweating on the climb back up, was able to make it to this spot and see how gorgeous it was.

We drove back out to the road (this time passing other cars on their way to the gorge) and at one point came to a dead stop--us, the car coming toward us, and the van behind it, so we could all get out and take pictures of a "thorny devil" who was crossing the road. Amazing creature. About the size of a large lizard and with a gait that was one step forward and two back and to the side--it's amazing he ever gets anywhere!

We came back home for lunch and then out to the airport for our scenic flight over the park and the river. It was a six seater plane and I wondered how I'd do, figuring I'd be terrified, especially since there were already wind gusts. Surprisingly, I wasn't scared at all--perhaps because I was sitting in the co-pilot seat (which was fine until I inadvertently stepped on the pedals!). I will admit to a bit of nausea as the plane bumped and lunged all over the outback (one woman behind me used her airsick bag...I've never known anyone to actually need one of those things). But the view was spectacular, especially the last leg, where we flew out over the ocean and back along the cliffs.

After the flight, we came home, parked the car, and took a long walk along the beach, down to the store, where we picked up something for dinner, then walked home and settled in for the night.

"You did good today," Peggy told me. I smiled--I did do good. This was why I wanted to start whipping this body in shape--to be able to enjoy things like this.

Tomorrow on to Monkey Mia.