Kangaroo Island

Early Monday morning, we drove from Adelaide down to Port Jervis, where we caught the ferry to Kangaroo Island. After de-boarding at Penneshaw, we started the drive to Emu Bay, where we had reserved a cabin. We were a little worried about the cabin, having experienced varying conditions in our accommodations thus far, Jeff's main complaint being the state of the showering facilities. We stopped at a couple of galleries on the way and spent our wad, trying to cover all of the people for whom we wanted to buy gifts.
We stopped at Kingscote on the way, which is about 15k from Emu Bay, to get dinner. Where we had, you guessed it, fish and chips, yet again. We decided we were officially sick of fish and chips.
We need not have worried about the cabin. It sat on the side of a hill overlooking Emu Bay. This was the view from the sliding glass door.


And inside was just as lovely. We had stocked up on groceries and the kitchen was well supplied with equipment, including a toaster for the several packets of crumpets that I had bought. Mmmm, toasted crumpets and hot chocolate for supper!


The shower was all Jeff could have hoped for. The only downside was that Emu Bay is not hooked up to a water supply, so they rely on rainwater. Short showers for us!


We went for a walk before the sun set and caught this, looking over the gardens by our cabin.


Then the views over Emu Bay. The lighting was quite splendid, although I'm afraid the photos didn't really capture it.


This is one of the famous Ligurian bees. They were imported to Kangaroo Island in the 1880's and are famous for their productivity and docility. They are the last pure strain of Ligurian bees in the world because they have been isolated from the mainland. Hence, they do not have the diseases that plague other bee populations and so the apiarists have no need of antibiotics or other chemicals. Kangaroo Island is a bee sanctuary and they are very strict about quarantine regulations. Honey products are a big tourist draw. And yes, we succumbed!

Down Under

I left a little late for work this morning.
Wet hair and no makeup.
In stormy weather.
Jet-lagged to the max, on about two hours sleep.
Driving on the wrong side of the road sitting on the wrong side of the car with all the sticks and levers in the wrong hands.
I noticed that gas is $2.59 and I am glad that it's a gallon and not a litre.
I almost backed over a little old lady in the Albertson's parking lot.
I left my coupon wallet at said store.
I kept turning on the wipers instead of the turn signal.
Irritated a few drivers.
I think at least one honked at me.
Had to call our credit union, which always manages to annoy me.
Still ticked at Jeff for cracking my new doumbek.
('Nother story)

It occurred to me, if Oz is "The Land Down Under" am I now the right side up?
It didn't feel like it.



Don't worry, I've still got lots of Aussie material to bore you with.
I just needed a little whinge.

Aussie friends

On Saturday we drove to Adelaide to stay with some strangers.
It was a long drive and we passed many dead kangaroos on the side of the road. Dead kangaroos make me sad in a way that dead raccoons will never do. The lack of phone and internet was starting to get to me; McDonalds (or Maccas, as they call it here) are suddenly an appealing sight. For the free wifi, you know.
Most Aussies are very friendly. One of their endearing traits is the way they say "No worries" whenever you ask them for something unreasonable, like they really mean it.
As in:
"Do you have wifi here?"
"I don't know, I'm new here."
"Okay, I guess I'll just go try it."
"Yeah, no worries."

This actually happened, almost word for word, at every Maccas.

We also passed many fields of grape vines.
Mile after mile after mile.


Here is a funny thing that you see at the beginning of almost every driveway in rural areas. We think the painted tyres are so that when Dad comes home snockered after the pub closes, he can find his driveway in the dark. No street lights in the country, don't you know!


So, have you been wondering about the strangers?
Strangers no more.
This is Craig and his wife, Carla, who were so kind as to open their home to two old travelers. Carla makes a mean pavlova, if any of you are ever out Adelaide way.


And their funny kids.


Craig was 3 years old when I saw him last. His Dad was my favourite teacher in high school and as much of a mentor as I ever had. I was on holiday in Sydney, staying with their family, when my Dad died. Which changed all of our lives, but that's another story.

We spent the rest of the weekend with Craig and Carla, our new Aussie friends. We walked through the city of Adelaide, ate dinner in a pub, watched a very short fireworks display at the Festival of Lanterns, and ate ice cream cones from Hungry Jacks, the Aussie equivalent of Burger King, all before bed on Saturday.
At church on Sunday, Jeff talked to the Dad of the missionary who was his Zone Leader in Hamilton. Then, at a family dinner of Carla's extended family, we visited with the missionary's daughter, who is married to Carla's brother. Got it? Small world.

We wish we had allowed more time to explore Adelaide. It is a beautiful city, surrounded by suburbs and parks in the hills. There was a time difference of half-an-hour as we drove west, which is a bit confusing. They say that Adelaide is half-an-hour and ten years behind Sydney. Our kind of city.

So, I have decided that one of the nice things about a trip like this is the relationships that you get to renew, like with Ben and Le'ah, or begin, like with Craig and Carla. It warms the cockles of my heart to see families with loving, hard-working parents who are doing their best to live good lives. I would happily pack them all up and take them home with me, but I know their parents and I might have a bit of a fight on my hands. Plus, my kids might get jealous.

Maybe.

Port Fairy

Yes, you read me right.
Either McKenzie or Elton John should be thrilled by the name of this town, I'm not sure which.
Not much to say about Friday. We drove the Hamilton Highway to Port Fairy, through fields of brilliant green dotted with cows and sheep. Then later, the fields became
the brightest shade of yellow that I have ever seen.


The flowers would become rape seeds, to be harvested for oil.
Many fields were waterlogged, two months into the rainy season. By January, everything will be brown again.

We checked into our cabin, about 15 miles the other side of Port Fairy, then returned to watch the mutton birds, otherwise known as shearwaters, returning to Griffith Island. It was freezing cold and windy, getting dark, but the awesome sight of thousands of birds returning to their habitat for the night was well worth it. The photo stinks, but you get the idea.
Whirling birds against a purple sky.


If you ever get to Port Fairy, Victoria, go to The Hub for some tasty dinner and dessert at not bad prices, an unusual combination in this part of the world.

On the road again...

...driving to Warragul, a small town east of Melbourne.
We stayed in Merimbula the night before, across from the golf course. We went for a walk on the course around twilight that night and saw kangaroos dotting the greens. The next morning, Jeff went out early to spot birds. The course was covered with roos and a groundsman told him that their course is famous for its pack of about 600 kangaroos. Apparently, they co-exist quite peacefully.

The drive through New South Wales was typically through gum tree forests, which consistently show signs of fire damage and are brown, dusty, and dotted with termite mounds. An echidna waddled across the road in front of us, lucky to escape with its life. Luckily, the roads aren't terribly busy and we don't see too much road kill, although Jeff swears he saw a dead koala one time. I don't want to think about it.
The landscape started to get greener almost as soon as we crossed the border into Victoria, looking like Oregon or New Zealand except for the flocks of cockatoos in the fields.


Australia is the land of slogans.
Take this one, for example. When I get home, I'll crop this photo so that you can read the writing. It says "Slowing down won't kill you."


Some of my other favourites are:
Break the drive, stay alive.
Drowsy drivers die.
(Very ominous, that one)
Take a break. Fatigue kills.
Long time dead so what's your hurry?
Slow down stupid.
Take a rest. Be our guest.
Fatigue is fatal.

The signs are frequent sights along the highways and gave us many moments of amusement. Although apparently, the government really believes that these will help to decrease driving deaths from fatigue. Personally, I think all the lumps in the roads are more than adequate for the job!

This blue-tongued skink was trying to climb a fence. There was a trio of boys watching it, but we noticed they kept their distance.
So did we.


Downtown Melbourne.


Even the freeway signs look like Oregon.

Dear blog...

...these are some of the things that I want to remember about Wednesday.
A visit to Birdland, in Batemans Bay.
The fulfillment of my dreams.
The cocky kookaburra that sat on the captive kookaburra cage and caused them to make a ruckus.


Petting a koala, at last.


Hobnobbing with roos in the kangaroo enclosure.


I was sneaking up on this group while taking a video and one of them came right up to the camera and put her nose on it. They thought I had food, I think, so were quite friendly, and very gentle and sweet.
This one had a little joey in her pouch.


No messing around with this ostrich.


Ostriches were originally from Africa and were brought into Australia by farmers. Some got loose and now they run around the country, terrorizing the natives.
The echidna is a weird and wonderful creature. This little fellow didn't stop moving. As you can see, I caught him on the run.


I held a python.
Be amazed.


And cuddled a wombat.


After all this riveting excitement, on to Bega, where the iconic Australian cheese factory resides.

Jeff, in his new Aussie hat.


The efficient cow.


The colourful cow.


Tillamook Cheese Factory, anyone?

Tuesday treks

Tuesday started with the blowhole at Kiama.


Then a trip inland around very narrow and windy roads to the Minnamurra Rainforest Reserve. It contains several distinct types of rainforest in one small area.

We were fascinated by the small leaf fig vines, which apparently surround a host tree and swallow it up until you have this.


It was a good hike along an amazingly constructed trail


and at the end was this waterfall.


I know, it's not Multnomah or Silver Falls, but this IS Australia!
This trail is well-known for lyre bird sightings, but several groups of schoolchildren pretty much nixed this possibility. Nothing like a nature trail and bird-watching with fifty screaming kids. But we did, in one quiet moment, see a lyre bird heading up a stream bed, which was slightly thrilling.

Then, on more narrow and even windier road (that's wind with a long i, not short) to the Barren Grounds Nature Reserve. Another hike, only shorter and flatter.
This view from Illawarra Lookout goes all the way to the sea. The lake to the far left is where Ben lives.


Then we drove and drove until I got whiny from doing all the driving. We were on a pretty remote road (one of several where we ended up backtracking on this day) so Jeff took a turn at the wheel. After about twenty minutes of breathless, white-knuckled gripping of the seat, I had a funny thought.

You must have been having a cow when I was driving in Sydney.
Uh-huh.
I laughed and laughed and praised him for his remarkable restraint.
Now we have both survived each other's driving on the wrong side of the road.
In the Hyundai Getz that Jeff calls a bucket of bolts.
And we're still traveling on.

We got to Batemans Bay that night and managed to find a fish and chips shop that was still open. My new strategy is to not buy dinner for myself, but to mooch off Jeff's plate. Or paper.