Bill and Eve's 2009

A little of Bill's recent history

The events of 2009 were strongly influenced by some actions in late 2008, so various threads have to start there. The following account draws in part from a letter distributed by email in late March 2009. My apologies for the duplication, if you received that. This episode is going to a wider audience.

Eve Franklin.

The image of Eve that first got my attention.

Provoked by Janet Delaney, I joined an Internet dating agency last year and very quickly ‘met’ Evelyn Franklin. The 'smile' I received from her was one of the first ones to arrive for me, and a last effort for Eve before she was to quit the site. A very lucky overlap. We properly met on 6 December 2008 and really clicked. Getting to know each other was a bit tricky at first because Eve lived 400km away in Christchurch. The Practice Review Administrator who allocates work to the reviewers decided to play Cupid and allocated me a heap of work in the Garden City. To get it all done, Dad and I stayed with Eve for 6 weeks.

We both enjoyed the experience, so Eve quit her job in a call centre, which she disliked anyway, and came to live with me in Mapua in late June. She is still here and we still like each other, so it looks very likely that it will last.

Like me, Eve left a long-standing marriage. Since then she has been widowed, so our histories have a little in common, but not everything. We have very similar senses of humour and a good range of shared interests – like skipping across supermarket car parks while others decorously walk!

Eve used to have a gardening business, so the poor, neglected garden here is beginning to look like a regular, cared for, orderly and attractive plot. She counts five children; one that arrived in the normal way, three adopted and one foster daughter. She actively likes cooking, so I spend much less time in the kitchen than I used to.

Luckily Dad really likes Eve - if he were 10 years younger I might have a rival ;-) – and Eve really likes Dad, too. The poor, besotted lass thinks I am drop-dead gorgeous. This misapprehension surely cannot last? Of course there is no question that she is perfectly wonderful; that is simply the objective truth! But as long as our mutual infatuation continues we are enjoying every minute of it.

Bill Heritage Snr.

An unflattering picture of my father with a barn owl,
taken in Warwickshire this year.

Dad came out to spend some time in NZ in early December 2008. Since then he has settled down to read his way through Mapua’s little library and remind me to lavish a little care on the garden. Before Eve arrived we established a compost bin which Dad tended enthusiastically. No weed on the property was safe!

Dad has been enjoying the Kiwi life so much he decided to apply to stay permanently. Even with the help of an immigration consultant, the form-filling was significant. However, all the appropriate boxes got filled in, an extraordinarily detailed medical examination was performed, the application fee was levied and now the forms are lying ignored in a drawer somewhere. Citizens' elderly relatives are not a high priority for the Dept. of Internal Affairs. We have been told to expect a wait of 18 months before the application is dusted off and a decision considered.

This sits awkwardly with the rules on visitors. Dad decided to go back to England while Eve and I were in Australia (see below). The consultant cheerily said that Dad would get a 3-month visitor visa at the airport on his return and we would sort things out from there. All lies.

When Nigel telephoned to check whether Dad needed a return ticket or not, the story changed radically. He had to have a visa before he stepped on the 'plane. So bookings got cancelled and more forms were filled in. Yet another medical report was commissioned, although this one was thankfully briefer. At the end of it all Dad was permitted to re-enter NZ on a multiple-entry visitor visa. This allows him to spend 18 months of the next 3 years in NZ. But before you shout, “Hooray”, you must understand that no visit may last longer than 6 months. So some time before 12 June 2010 Dad must leave NZ for at least one night. Crazy.

Little Brother

Meanwhile, my brother Nigel is back in England. He was lumbered with selling our parents house in a very depressed market. Luckily he managed that with less drama than expected. He indulged a fancy to live in Dorset and rented a property in Shaftesbury, where he entertained Dad during his return to the UK.

He is also the major caretaker of Dad's newly cashed up wealth and Mum's estate. I am an executor, too, and getting signatures half way round the world during a postal strike made for more stress. However, that all seems to be done, the lawyers have been paid (ouch!) and Mum's half of the property should be enough to buy a rental property in Shaftesbury where Nigel can become the tenant while he settles into his new job with posh Sherborne School.

A Place in the Country.

When I moved to the Nelson Region I had the idea of finding a corner of an orchard somewhere and building an eco home on it. But Tasman District Council has strong views on farmers nibbling off pieces of land for development. I ended up buying 12 hectares (30 acres) of mostly hilly land in the Motueka River Valley. The locality is known as Woodstock, but it has no known connection with music festivals.

The view from Woodstock facing North taken close to the spot where we will build.

The deal was signed in November 2008. I committed to buying roughly half of an existing property, Golightly Farm, and that could not happen until ‘my’ piece of land had a separate legal title. This process moved very slowly. Surveyors crawled all over the place and rammed pegs in to the soil. Kate and Bob, the vendors, and I are quite happy with the boundary dividing Golightly Farm. Of course, it’s not as easy as that. The Southern boundary of the existing farm was established long ago by ‘pacing out’ and was never formally surveyed. This doesn’t affect the piece of land I am buying, but it has to go through various legal hoops. Kate and Bob agreed with the neighbour that the legal boundary shall follow the existing fence line, which is very sensible.

Hoop 1 is that all the other neighbours of Golightly Farm had to agree, too, even though they are quite unaffected. Those signatures were requested and then forgotten about. They eventually got remembered by the Land Registry. Without signed consents LINZ wrote and offered 3 weeks to object, which dragged the whole process out by nearly another month.

Hoop 2. Then there is the boundary along the road. There the fence is about half a metre on the Council’s side of the true line, which won’t worry anybody. In years gone by the farms along the road owned a bit more land and the old boundary is now the centre of the road. This was duly surveyed in the 1960s and the owners were properly compensated for the strip of land that was taken away. Only no-one has ever recorded that on the Land Register. According to the Register I was about to become the owner of a stretch of the Southbound carriageway. How much of a toll should I charge? No. It was all fixed by making a third parcel of Golightly Farm and transferring it to the council. But it took time to figure that out and put it into effect.

So the process was finally completed and I (via a company called Shnurg Limited) became the owner on 14 August 2009, more than 8 months after signing up to buy the land. And of course by then we were in Australia.

I recruited a company to design a house for the site. They were to get an agreed design and then run a tender process, help me choose a builder and supervise the construction. Because of delays in getting the title, Australian holidays and other hiccups, the tender did not get run until after Eve and I returned from Australia. The builders were given 3 weeks to get their quotes in, which apparently means 4 weeks. The quotes came in and, oh dear!, we have completely lost sight of the budget.

David and James, who run BQD, the design company, are really nice young guys but at this stage I came within an ace of firing them. The dollars were not even within cooee.

So the design had to be revised. Fresh figures have been supplied. They are still too high. So BQD is working on getting better rates from subcontractors and prices for alternative waste systems. The biolytic one that was recommended is no doubt the best but it sure ain't the cheapest. As this piece goes to press, as it were, we have a preferred builder, but no contract and no clear idea of when building will even start. Hopefully we will have a new home next year, but it won't be soon.

We do have a road from the highway to the building site. Unfortunately the local digger driver with an excellent reputation was too busy to take on the task. Multidig Services came with a recommendation but they have done a terrible job and much remedial work needs to be undertaken before they get paid.

The house and garden will not, of course, take up the full 12 hectares. Mind you, we aim to have a substantial kitchen garden and a house orchard where we can grow one or two trees of all the yummy fruits we are partial to.

About 2 hectares is fertile river flat on which we (meaning Eve) will grow berries. Final decisions are not yet made, but the front runners are raspberries and blueberries. The hilly bits will be given over to tree crops. Hazel nuts, walnuts, etc. Again, the final decisions are yet to be made. The very steepest slopes will be encouraged to revert to native bush so that we may enjoy the song of bellbirds and tuis, grey warblers and tomtits.

The property boasts populations of rabbits and hares. We aim to farm these sustainably to provide a succession of dinners. Other, less agreeable, wildlife includes stoats, possums and occasional wild pig. Regrettably, a trapping programme will be necessary.

Australia

This jaunt, which lasted almost 3 months, was a major 2009 event for us. It separates more or less neatly into 5 sections. The account here is very abbreviated. If you are at all interested, more detailed accounts of some parts were posted on this blog in August, September and October. Some of them are more lavishly illustrated, too.

Part 1: Melbourne to Adelaide

We drove a small Hyundai Getz (it getz you there eventually) mainly along the coast. The major attractions are the lovely bush in the Otway National Park and the ocean coast scenery itself, particularly around the 12 Apostles.

The weather was mainly showery, which the car's wipers feebly smeared about. We did do a couple of small bush walks and hiked around the pathways at the 12 Apostles and Loch Ard Gorge. Although it was only a 4-day jaunt, nature study got well under way with plenty of birds and some kangaroos seen.

Don't go swiming in Loch Ard Gorge

Part 2: The Darwin to Adelaide

The discontinuity is an uneventful flight to the capital of the tropical north of Australia. From there we took a camper van and drove it about 10,700km in 7 weeks. The principal attractions along the way were:

Kakadu National Park for rock art and birdlife. There are two major rock art sites, Nourlangie and Ubirr. Both are accessible along sealed roads, have helpful interpretive panels and if you turn up at the right times and places a Park Ranger will deliver a free talk. The tourists get explanations of the art at a small child level. You have to prove yourself worthy to the aboriginal elders before the advanced interpretations will be provided. And one aspect of worthiness is that you won't tell anyone else who isn't worthy.

Kakadu is a large flood plain and the most noticeable birds are the waterfowl. The best place to see them is at Yellow Water. If you are ever there be sure to get up and take the dawn cruise when there is most activity. We saw and photographed jabiru storks, brolga cranes, herons, fish eagles, ducks, jacanas, kingfishers and many more. Wonderful. And the most colourful bird was land based – the rainbow bee-eater.

A comb-crested jacana

Of the unfeathered life it was the crocodiles that made the biggest impression. Estuarine crocs grow very big, can move upriver a long way from the sea and are very well equipped to chomp and eat humans. The rangers actively clear them out of tourist spots, but the only place you can swim in Kakadu and be truly certain that reptilian death does not lurk is the municipal swimming pool.

Of course there is Darwin itself, with an excellent museum and memorable fish and chips. From there the Stuart Highway crosses the continent to Port Augusta and Adelaide. We took side trips to Litchfield National Park and Edith Falls, both destinations with superb swimming holes that are probably safe. We did swim and nothing bigger than a mosquito bit us.

At Katherine we turned right and set off to Western Australia, where the border patrol is as severe as in NZ. Any produce, even of Aussie origin, is confiscated. We made for Broome with pauses in Kununurra and Geike Gorge. And every day in the tropics we could be sure of sunny, dry weather. What we learned of 'The Wet' did not appeal. It comes in the summer and it is therefore even hotter and very humid when it's not actually raining.

Broome was a disappointment. We do not understand why it is such a major tourist destination. There are too many people, prices are high and there really aren't many attractions. However, we did have two delightful sunset swims off Cable Beach. Mysteriously there are no crocodile warnings, although it is still in the tropics. Leaving the town we detoured to the bird observatory and found a piece of magic. We must go back and do the tours. One of them saw 80 species of birds in a day! Every evening there is a 'bird log' meeting when the day's sightings are recorded. And when I innocently reported seeing two white-bellied cuckoo-shrikes I got challenged! Apparently I saw immature black-faced cuckoo-shrikes. Oh dear.

From Broome we retraced our steps to Turkey Creek, where we joined a 2-day trip into the Bungle-Bungles. The access road is seriously challenging terrain. Even the tour company's big 4WD took 2 hours to cover the 53km to the Info Centre. The guide had some very sad tales of inadequately prepared vehicles attempting the track.

The Bungle-Bungles themselves are fascinating chunks of rock with black and red layers and deep, canyon-like rents that are only accessible on foot. Even though it was winter, the temperatures went well into the 40s so sunblock, hats and water-bottles were essential. We really appreciated the gorges where we could march in shade.

Typical black and red layers in Bungle-Bungles rock. The grey cylinder near the top is the nest of spinifex termites and the line trickling down the side is the termites' sheltered route to the more substantial food source at the bottom.

Back in the Northern Territory we visited Katherine Gorge, where our cheery guide spoke with the unmistakeable accent of South Auckland. We then resumed our southward journey on the Stuart Highway. We spent a night at Mataranka, where the map notes “Thermal Springs”. Well, they are certainly springs and the water is warm, but there's no geothermal heating going on. The groundwater is simply at bath temperature. So we swam in the springs, which are in delightful bush, and spent the night in the adjacent camp ground. There were peacocks and wallabies looking for handouts and some spilled muesli was cleared up in no time by a noisy squad of apostle birds. But the dominant wildlife was the colony of red-headed flying foxes (fruit bats) in the trees near the springs. There are hundreds of thousands of them and at dusk they spiralled up from their roosts like smoke before setting off towards a distant food source. This performance lasted 15-20 minutes, but it was too dark to photograph.

They say that to call yourself a local in Alice Springs you have to see the Todd River flow three times. Expect to wait 20 years to achieve this. Nevertheless Alice Springs hosts a regatta every year, “Henley on Todd”, where the contestants have bottomless skiffs and carry them along the dry river bed.

We were a little too early for the regatta but the Alice Springs Desert Park is open all the year round. It is a splendid place. We started early with a bird walkabout. An expert guide helped to identify the species we saw. They included a very rare grey honeyeater, which we would never have been able to determine by ourselves. Throughout the day there were talks on various aspects of plant and animal life in the desert as well as numerous aviaries, a nocturnal house and reptile exhibits.

A young male splendid fairy-wren moulting into his breeding plumage. The black is almost all there. When the moult is complete virtually all the other feathers will be the brilliant blue that is speckling his neck and shoulders. A wild bird photographed in Alice Springs Desert Park.

Next on the itinerary was Uluru, formerly known as Ayers Rock. Both the local aboriginals and the park rangers ask that visitors do not climb the rock, but many still do. We stayed down at ground level, enjoyed a ranger talk and took lots of photos. By now we were getting used to distances in Australia and thought that Kings Canyon was close because it was only 300-odd kilometres away. We walked in the bed of the canyon, but preferred the helicopter flight to walking round the rim.

Coober Pedy is the opal capital of the world. It is also located in one of the most desolate and unlovely landscapes that we have come across. The thousands of conical spoil heaps do not enhance the scenery. However, the town has many points of interest. About half its buildings are under ground to escape the extreme summer heat.

The Serbian Orthodox Church in Coober Pedy.
It is underground and the light at the back is all artificial.

Our last week in that camper van was a hectic charge round the more temperate latitudes of South Australia. We had two days in the Flinders Ranges based in the best of camp grounds in Hawker. We saw many emus around the place, including a couple of family groups, kangaroos and lizards. Our guide, Derek, was particularly knowledgeable about the complex geology of the ranges.

Further South we returned to verdant climes with real grass instead of spinifex and farms instead of huge stations. The most famous crop is grapes, and we paid homage to the Clare and Barossa Valleys while sampling their output.

Our last two nights in the van were spent on Kangaroo Island. It does indeed have many roos, one of which bounded out into the road in front of us. There was a definite bump, but the careless pedestrian vanished back into the bush, leaving only some fur on the road. The island is, however, more important for its population of koalas. The first we saw was actually in the camp ground. She was asleep, which koalas do for 20 hours per day, but her joey peered down at us with a vague but very cute expression on its face.

The island also boasted sealions (where the ranger takes you right onto the beach with the animals, which is even better), fur seals, echidnas and the only live wild snake (a long way away) we saw during the whole trip.

Part 3: Golden Oldies Hockey in Adelaide

After 7 weeks in a camper van the 4-star hotel in which the Hampshire Harlequins were based was quite a shock. But a very pleasant one. A good many of the team from the last festival in Argentina were there and old friends from other teams were numerous. Eve has never been a hockey player, but she understands the much more important objective of the week – partying! The games themselves were a mixed bunch, and interrupted on occasion by torrential showers. It was a moderate consolation that South Australia badly needed the water.

June of GO Nelsun enjoying a photo opportunity with Wendy of Hampshire Harlequins. Geography has little to do with Golden Oldies. I live near Nelson and sometimes umpire with June. Wendy was born in Guyana, which is not very close to Hampshire. The HH manager lives in Nigeria!

As well as playing, I did some umpiring duties. For one of these tduties hree umpires turned up when only two are required. “Will you play for us, instead?” asked the Privateers. “O.K.” Don't tell the other Harlequins, but it was my best game of the week.

Eve admired the colourful outfit worn at the opening event by Bella Whippy (nee Heritage but we have not established exactly how we are related) of the Fiji Invitational Veterans. Bella responded by presenting the outfit to Eve later in the week. Swapping shirts is common, but this was an exceptional gesture. Eve did give her Harlequins shirt in return and we have since purchased a greenstone pendant as a gift for Bella.

Part 4: Adelaide to Perth

Crossing the Nullarbor Plain is still a major journey. We decided to do it in comfort by train. Unfortunately, by the time we made our booking only single cabins in Gold Class were left. These were staggeringly expensive at more than A$1,500 each for a journey of two nights and a day. The cabins were not especially comfortable. Give me a camper van any day. The fare included meals, but not wine or the tours along the way that were endlessly advertised to us. Don't do it, is our advice. It is terrible value for money. Go Red Class and take sandwiches.

The plain itself was not a disappointment. Flat to the horizon in all directions for virtually the whole day. No wonder it includes the world's longest piece of dead straight rail track. There's plenty of scrub growing, but not many trees.

The Nullarbor Plain photographed when the train stopped in Cook.
This would be typical if there were fewer trees.

We fetched up in Perth at a respectable time in the morning and it was drizzling. The queue for taxis was a long one. Why haven't the taxi companies worked out when the trains come in? But we were in no hurry.

Part 5: The South West

Our final 3 weeks was to explore Western Australia to the south of Perth. Unfortunately we had arrived during school holidays and camper vans were hard to rent. By starting the tour a few days later than planned we managed to book a van at a reasonable rate from a small, independent firm in Rockingham run by a very nice couple.

In the meantime we explored Perth and environs by various means. By sea we went to Rottnest Island for a day trip. Downriver between Perth and Fremantle we were shown the mansions of the wealthy. Yawn. On Rottnest itself we had a brief guided walk and were introduced to the local relative of kangaroos, the quokka. They are nocturnal so they weren't very active, but they are cute. In the afternoon a boat with very powerful engines zoomed us over the waves and round the island. “We might see a whale.” We saw several. They were humpback whales migrating. We were also shown more fur seals, the remains of shipwrecks and various birds all in sunshine. Lovely.

A Rottnest quokka.

By car we toured some back roads to the East of the city in search of wildflowers. In Toodyay (pronounced 2-J) the motel had left a tree stump in the parking area. I reversed into it; the first damage I have inflicted on a vehicle in many years. Curses and very naughty words!

At last we we once more masters on our own destiny in a camper van. We looped North and then South-East and started finding many of the flowers that the state is famous for. Even Eve did not know the names for many of them, but we could tell the banksias and the everlastings at least. The booklet we were more or less following did not always lead us to great displays, but in this area the flowers had been earlier than usual and since they are wild, they cannot be guaranteed. Sometimes we would turn down a road almost at random and find the verges thick with flowers. One yellow flower was very common. In places meadows were carpeted by these plants but we never discovered its name. A typical answer to our question was, “Oh, I know the one you mean. It's a weed. I don't know what it's called.”

At Wave Rock we switched to geology and admired the delightful formation where eons of wind and water have gracefully eroded away a concave curve of rock. On the top rain water is still collected for a local reservoir. An information board explained that the larger puddles lasted long enough for frogs to breed. Sure enough, we saw tadpoles in one of the temporary ponds. If you are ever there, do not miss the souvenir shop. It has a particularly good range, including excellent wildflower T-shirts and memorable luggage labels.

Esperance is on the South Coast and famous for its white sand beaches. On some, the grains are of a particular size that squeaks when you walk on them. The boat tour round the bay was very informative, with sightings of dolphins, sealions, yet more fur seals, Cape Barren geese and sea eagles that soar to order. Well, they know the boat will throw them a fish if they take to the air. Yes, I did get a photo of it.

The coastal heaths provided a varied palette of flowers, mostly different from the inland species. One banksia had pale green flowers. The floral scenery was best in Cape Le Grand National Park. We toyed with the idea of camping there, but it was blowing a gale so we retreated to the comfort of the town.

A flower (hakea sp?) photographed in coastal heathland.

On a Saturday (why is it always a weekend?) my back went out. I hobbled until Monday morning and went in search of Esperance's sole chiropractor. He couldn't see me until after 5pm. So for two days Eve drove while I sprawled in the back of the van. It was probably illegal and dangerous, but relief from sitting was what my back craved. It improved, and in Albany we did find a chiropractor who speeded up the recovery and straightened out a less painful kink in Eve's spine, too.

We meandered westwards, enjoying flowers, coastal scenery and local produce until we arrived in the land of the tingle trees. The biggest are the red tingles, that have a singular propensity to lose the inside of their lower trunk to fungus attack and/or fire, leaving them standing on 3 or 4 splayed limbs with a hollow centre. The biggest easily have room for several people to stand inside. One monster was regularly photographed with a vehicle between its tripod-like supports, but that died and fell a few years ago.

In the valley of the giants is a tree-top walkway. The idea is that you can experience what it is like to be in the tops of these forest giants 40m above the ground. It is so realistic that the engineers even designed the walkway so that it sways in the wind, like the branch of a tree. Being acrophobic (scared of heights)I could really have done without the movement while I was coping with the elevation. But you truly do get a bird's eye view. I

n an unremarkable township called Walpole the guide book gave a strong boost to the boat trip round the inlet. The inlet is pleasant enough, but the real treat was the commentary of guide Gary Muir. He was a walking encyclopaedia of natural history and illustrated his lectures with whatever props were to hand. Thus we had an animated explanation of why almost all marsupial males have a bifurcated penis. To do this he employed a number of cuddly toys, a jumper lead, a length of rope, a yellow funnel and whatever else he could grab. We now have an excellent grasp of the latest theories of mammalian evolution. My sun hat became part of a hilarious description of Gondwanaland and why various groups of animals are found in certain places. Later we learned that Gary also holds the record for running the Bibbulmun Track. This is normally hiked in 6 weeks or so. He covered the 1,000km in only 17 days.

Pemberton was memorable for two reasons:

(1) We went to admire the Gloucester Tree, a huge karri that the brave can climb up using iron pegs hammered into the trunk as a sort of spiral staircase. Eve and I watched others make the perilous ascent and listened to parents hurriedly inventing rules to prevent their fearless children heading straight for the top. We did take advantage of two short bush walks through gloriously flower-laden forest, though. The bird life here was advertised as prolific. Surprisingly, it actually was. It was a fabulous birding location and we added 6 species to our list.

(2) We bought mescalin in the local supermarket. Well, that's what it said on the packet. Inside it was only lettuce. Someone in the marketing department cannot spell mesclun.

A ringneck parrot near the Gloucester Tree.

From Cape Leeuwin we started North on the last leg of our tour. Now our eyes were in, we began to spot more orchids in the undergrowth. The rocks here are limestone and contain many caves. We visited 3 of them. We also visited Margaret River, WA's premier wine region. We were getting proficient now at holding the tasting glass by the stem and sniffing genteely before sipping the wine being tasted. The reds were generally excellent, but we have to admit to some disappointment in the whites. NZ whites have the edge. What? Parochial? Us?

A spider orchid.

We saw some thrombolites along the way and arrived back in Perth with time to visit the splendid aquarium at Hillary's Boat Harbour and have a most enjoyable lunch with Raj and Liz, colleagues from my Hayes Knight Days.

With apologies for the many places, people and experiences that have been omitted, that was our year.

How I won the cross country cup

I wasn't the fastest sprinter in my year at school. That title was the undisputed property of Hobart. I think his first name was Mick or Micky, but in the 1960s in England schoolmasters addressed the boys by their surnames and, for the most part, that was what we used between ourselves.

Hobart was a very tall boy for whom the adjective “gangling” could have been especially invented. For most of the time he gangled amiably about the school. But on the athletics track he stood out, both for pace and style. I have never seen anyone else run like Hobart; elbows haphazardly windmilling in all directions and hands flapping. My hands have to be either bunched in a fist or fingers straight out as if to deliver a karate blow. I have tried running with relaxed wrists and I just can't do it. But the Hobart head was still on his shoulders, eyes fixed on the finishing line as his long legs powered forwards.

In the cohort of 120 boys I wasn't second to Hobart or even third, but I was distinctly ahead of the bunch.

However, in the school athletics records, if they still exist, the name Heritage B.D.R. will be found not under sprinting but in the 4th Form cross-country section. This is quite remarkable because I was as hopeless a distance runner as I was good over 100 yards. I would start out at the front but after 200 yards I would be lagging and after 300 left behind with the other no-hopers.

The school cross-country course started in a nearby park. We had to run across a downward sloping sward, cross two bridges and then follow an anti-clockwise loop before re-crossing the canal bridge. Properly the course then involved splashing through the River Colne, which was quite shallow enough for the manoeuvre, but since Authority was not watching we trudgers at the back of the field kept our feet dry before climbing the slope to the park gates. One afternoon Rowe chose to see what running through the river was like, tripped and fell full length into the water. He was wearing white gym kit, which, when wet, clung to the body and became almost transparent. Rowe, always an exhibitionist, jogged back to school dripping and wearing a delighted smile.

Certain naughty boys, and here I am thinking of Fantes, Hicks and Scott, ran to the start of the loop and then sat in the bushes to wait. Their signal that it was time to reappear and go back to school was Heritage and the other back-markers sweating their way back across the bridges. Relaxed and fresh, Fantes & Co would run past me asking why I did not do the same.

The loop part of the course threaded its way along paths through uneven, scrubby woodland where someone had cleared enough trees to lay out a golf course. Fantes et al would sometimes occupy their unofficial leisure watching the infrequent midweek golfers. One unusual hole required a chip from the tee onto a green hidden at the bottom of a deep gully and invisible to the golfer. It was here that Hicks once took advantage of the peculiar terrain to gather up a pair's balls and put them both in the cup without being seen. He reported that the unmerited holes-in-one generated a lot of surprise but suspicion rather than elation.

It was Scott who told me that I was in the house cross-country team. “I was in the team and you were reserve but I've told them I've got a bad leg so you're running.” I didn't even know there was an inter-house competition coming up, but the notice board confirmed the news, with Scott's name already crossed out and a line through “Reserve” next to mine.

I never thought to ask how the team was selected. It must have been a mistake. However, I was far too honest to invent an injury like the mendacious Scott so I turned up at the starting line. Of the others who normally kept me company each week only Lawley had also been drafted into the big race. We looked glumly at each other in the certain knowledge that humiliation awaited us.

It was fully as awful as we expected. The rest of the field was already out of sight when we got to the first bridge. Round the loop we went, winter-frosted leaves crunching under our feet. In view of the seriousness of the occasion we determinedly refused to slow to a walk, although our jogging was a shuffle barely faster than the golfers striding up the fairways.

To make the time pass we discussed a recent physics practical, made almost farcical by equipment apparently purchased when the school was founded 400 years previously. Double, one of the brainy boys, had nevertheless managed to obtain a perfect graph. Kirkness, another brain, had actually obtained results that were quite impossible and the extrovert Dayman had broken his antique spring. Hattersley had been so bewildered that he had gone round the class asking to copy other boys' work

Shoulder to shoulder Lawley and I struggled on. Special occasion or not, we declined to get shoes full of Colne water so we used the bridge and set ourselves towards the finishing line. As we toiled up a slope that seemed to have grown steeper during the afternoon we became aware of a knot of figures at the finish. Normally boys who had completed their run went straight back to school to shower and change. Today the rest of the field was waiting and, we dimly perceived, they were shouting at us.

The words were indistinct but I suspected abuse.

Perfectly in step the last two runners puffed towards the line. With about 100 yards to go I asked, “Shall we race?” Let the record show that I waited until Lawley answered, “Yes” before I started to accelerate. It was a slow motion dash accompanied by what I could now determine were yells of encouragement.

Whatever my incompetence as a distance runner, there were few could out-sprint me in a fair contest and we were both equally exhausted. Not that it was easy. Lawley was right on my shoulder as we crossed the line and almost fell into an excited throng around a master holding a clipboard.

For a few marvellous moments I was a hero. Our houses had been tied for first place until we arrived and the fact that I crossed the line ahead of Lawley, no matter how narrowly, had secured the title for Travellers House.

Aussie spelling

We purchased this in the Pemberton, Western Australia supermarket. Despite the labelling, all it contained was lettuce!


If you are unsure of the significance, check the encyclopedia. Note for sticklers, the Oxford dictionary and some others allow that the final 'e' is optional.

And if you are still bemused, click here for the correct spelling.

Rottnest Island

This is jumping a long way ahead from Kangaroo Is. Never mind.

We visited Rottnest on a day trip from Perth. As day trips go it was pretty good.

Stage One was the ferry. From Perth it made its way down the Swan River. We were given a commentary on various features of the river, with an emphasis on the mansions of those that mining has made into billionaires.

The vessel paused to take on more passengers at the mouth of the river in Fremantle. We were not all tourists; the ferry takes plenty of folk who, to judge from their clothing and luggage, were travelling on business.

In beautiful sunshine we sped across the waves to Rottnest. It really was a perfect day for it. The name comes from the Dutch for 'Rat's Nest'. The navigator who gave the monicker saw many "rats as big as cats" through his telescope and didn't land. What he actually saw were quokkas; marsupials built along the same general lines as a kangaroo, but much smaller and with a quite different head shape. Since they are nocturnal I had little hope that we would see any.

The ferry company offers a range of options. We had selected the optional short walking tour, a cafe lunch and a seaborne 'eco-tour'.

The walking tour - it was really an amble - gave us some history of the island and then the guide said she would try and find us a quokka. Of course, she knew where they slumbered through daylight and we saw dozens of them. The approach of a party of clumping humans woke up our quarry who blinked with a far-away look in their eyes and them mostly went back to sleep.

Time's up at this computer. To be continued.

More on Kangaroo Island

Owing to its isolation from the mainland, Kangaroo island has suffered less from the impact of European settlement and retains more than half of its native ‘old-growth' vegetation - a vast area of some 2,250 square kilometres. Similarly, the island has been spared the damage done by foxes and rabbits, ensuring the integrity of native bushland. The result of this is that the animal and bird populations have thrived. More than one-third of the island is Conservation or National Park and it has five significant Wilderness Protection Areas. So Kangaroo Island is a special and protected place.

It's about 150km from end to end, although the sealed roads go around rather than through the middle of the island. There are two camping grounds. One is at the western end of the island and the other is at Kingscote which is about 60km from the port of Penneshaw which is where the ferry docks.

The first day we went to the camping ground at the furthest end of the island. While we were registering we were told that there was a koala with a joey (all marsupial babies that have leftthe pouch but notleft Mum are joeys) in a tree just outside. Sure enough, there they were and, just as cute looking in the flesh as in pictures. We had booked earlier to go on a nocturnal tour that night, in a nearby wildlife sanctuary and there we saw many more koalas & joeys, kangaroos and wallabies.

Koalas were introduced to the island early last century and have done extremely well. They are reproducing so rapidly that a sterilisation programme has had to be put in place to control population growth. Because they prefer the young growing tips of the eucalyptus trees they can cause quite a bit of damage if left unchecked. The trees need time to recover but if there's too many koalas, they don't get time and eventually die.

After seeing the sealions,as described in the last post, we went to see the Remarkable Rocks which are interestingly shaped rocky obtrusions on a cliff top and then for a walk on a series of steps and boardwalks to Admirals Arch which is a large, spectacular sea arch.

The drive back to Kingscote was marred by a brush with a kangaroo, which bounced into the road in front of us. Even though we were driving well below the speed limit there was no time to swerve. There was a nasty 'clump' sound so we pulled up. Luckily there was no corpse. The errant pedestrian left some fur on the road but no blood that I could see, and s/he had vanished into the bush.

Australian wildlife in general has no road sense. We have seen many roos, wallabies and snakes that have become tucker for the crows and hawks. Australia's largest bird, the wedge-tailed eagle, has become much more numerous with the supply of fresh roadkill. We added one lizard to that sorry total, but have carefully avoided many others, managed to miss one snake and have pulled up in time to allow several echidnas to complete their crossing.

Coober Pedy to Adelaide

Coober Pedy, as you doubtless know, is an opal mining town situated in the middle of South Australia. The Mad Max films were made in and around there so if you have seen them you will be understand when I say that the area is bleak, dusty, and overwhelmingly brown. It really does look as if the place has been hit by a nuclear bomb and it's ugliness defies description. There are mine tailings everywhere, even in the town.

Sixty percent of the people who live there, live in underground houses which have been dug/blasted into the rock. The summer temperatures are so hot that living underground is the best way to keep cool as the indoor temperature can be kept at 22 degrees Celsius all year round. The houses can be quite luxurious but I think I would go nuts very quickly if I had to live there. There are hardly any trees or plants and the only grass is at the Aussie rules football grounds and at the school.

We did an afternoon bus tour around the place which was very interesting. We were taken to the underground museum, which also incorporates an underground home, the Serbian church (also underground ) and other places of interest. We were also told a lot about the opal mining, both present and past. It seems to be quite a lawless place even though there is a police station in the town. 14 cops have responsibility for a precinct as big as Belgium.

The Coober Pedy police station was blown up a couple of years ago by a guy who had applied for a job which needed a police check. Not a very bright guy apparently because he figured that if he blew the place up then his prospective employers wouldn't be able to find out that he had a record! He did wait until the place was empty before he did it, which was considerate of him. He's now serving a 9 year jail sentence, so doesn't need the job after all.

One of the graves in Coober Pedy's cemetery is marked by a beer keg engraved with, "Have a drink on me." The departed was told by his doctor that he had 2 weeks to live so he went to the bank and took out a $10,000 loan. He put the whole lot on the bar in the pub and invited the whole town to "Have a drink on me." Apparently many bank employees were amongst those that accepted the invitation.

We only stayed for two nights and were happy to leave and head down to Quorn which is near Port Augusta in the south. The day we travelled, we were followed by the Coober Pedy dust, it seemed. It was very windy and the sun and any views were obscured by dust all day. We arrived at Quorn in the evening and were glad to wake up the next morning to find the sky had cleared. Quorn is a pretty town with lots of old buildings still being used. They are often built of the local stone and are really solid and full of character.

We headed off to a place called Hawker which isn't far from Quorn and in the afternoon went on a 4WD trip into the Flinders Range. We had a great guide called Derek who took us onto private land to show us some of the area. We finally saw wild emus. It had taken us almost 7 weeks to see Australia's national bird. It was such a good afternoon, we booked to go on a full day tour with him the next day. We learned a lot about the geology and the history of the area and had a good time with the other people on the tour as well.

The Clare Valley was the next on the travel list. As we drove there the country became green. This was a lovely after weeks of spinifex and gum trees. The area is very pretty with rolling countryside and lots of farms and vineyards. We bought a bottle of the local Kirrihill Shiraz to have with our dinner the night before and it was great, so thought we would go and look at the the "Cellar Door" to see what other wines they produce. To our delight, they had some bottles of the same wine on special for $7.50 each so we bought some more, of course. In the afternoon we drove on to the famous Barossa Valley to stay in the town of Tanunda.

The Barossa Valley is also a very attractive place and there are lots of lovely old houses there as well as the vineyards. We went on a tour of some of the vineyards, a dried fruit emporium and also to a place owned by Maggie Beer who is a TV cook in Oz. Her shop sells lots of lovely things to eat, and tasting is permitted. There were pates, jams, pickles and all sorts of other yummy things.

From Tanunda we set out to travel to Cape Jervis to catch the ferry to Kangaroo Island. Once again we drove through lovely green and pretty countryside which was again a balm to our eyes after all the dusty desert we'd travelled through further north. Our maps were not detailed enough to include all the towns and villages, so some of the navigation was by guesswork. However, we arrived at the ferry terminal in good time. I must have been used to the camper van because reversing it on was quite simple.

Kangaroo Is is famous for the visibility of its wildlife. When we checked in at the campground we were casually told that there was a koala in the tree right outside. It was a female, sleeping soundly, with a joey that peered down at us and, as tradition demands, went right off the cuteness scale it was so charming.

We took a guided walk after dark and saw plenty more koalas in a very natural setting, i.e. asleep. Adult koalas sleep for 20 hours per day and eat for the rest in between scratching. We observed all these behaviours, including the "koala dance" when the animal hangs beneath a branch by its forelegs and frees up its rear legs to scratch each other.

In daylight we went to Seal Bay and saw: a superb fairy-wren, a golden whistler, a New Holland honeyeater, a new thornbill, black oystercatchers and crested terns. Oh, we saw Australian sea lions as well. For a fee a guide takes you onto the beach and to within 10 metres of the animals. Our photos are great, but still in the camera.

Wildlife photos

The following photos were all taken in Kakadu National Park, most of them at Yellow Water.

A white, or sacred ibis.

A sulphur-crested cockatoo enjoying the nectar from a grevilliea flower. One of our guides reckons that if he could only get enough of the nectar for commercial purposes he would make his fortune. He claims it tastes much better than honey.

A comb-crested jacana, or lily-trotter. Where the water lilies grow bigger leaves they truly can walk across them without getting wet feet.

A pair of sea eagles.

Radjah shelducks.

A plumed whistling duck.

An estuarine crocodile or "salty". The freshwater crocodiles swallow their food whole and are not a danger to humans unless you threaten them or their eggs. Even then the worst you are likely to suffer is a nasty bite. Salties can dismember large prey. They can, and occasionally do, eat humans. We were taught a healthy terror of crocodiles while in Northern Australia.

These guys are wading in the Alligator River East at Cahills Crossing. There are estuarine crocodiles in this river. From the lookout we were counting 4 or 5 of them upstream to the right. The man on the left is not safe from a croc, which can hide in a foot of water and outrun a horse over short distances. The fisherman is plain tired of living.

A darter.

This is an azure kingfisher. It's a very small bird, taken at maximum possible zoom, so it's not a great photo, but what a beautiful bird!

One of the Yellow Water lilies.

Some more rock art photos

These are a small selection of the rock paintings at Ubirr in the North of Kakadu National Park.

There is a whole wall that appears to be the menu for a huge feast. This is where hunters would record exceptional success; a stone age photo gallery of the big ones that did not get away. You can enlarge the image by clicking on it. Most of these are fish, mainly barramundi, which are excellent eating. The one on the right with the square head is (I think) a catfish.



These paintings are less important than the Dreamtime images credited to supernatural beings and may be painted over by members of the right clan. There are several layers of drawings here, though I found it hard to see that.



A barramundi in an unusual, probably older, style that does not show the internal organs.

A classroom blackboard. Thise scene depicts a battle between two clans. The story was that a girl from one clan was hungry and ate some barramundi, contrary to the laws that restricted foods based on a variety of criteria that we find strange, such as age, sex, clan, skin name, etc. Another clan discovered the crime and punished the girl. However, the girl's own clan thought that she had been punished too severely and felt obliged to fight the 2nd clan. Several men were killed in the conflict. The moral of this tale is the importance of obeying the laws.

If you look carefully you can see two women painted in another colour. They are there for another story in which they both ended up turning into crocodiles.

Now in Coober Pedy

Time is running out if we are going to have lunch before embarking on a tour of Coober Pedy and environs. It is not a picturesque place, in fact I'd rate it even lower than Doncaster as a place to live. The land around here is very flat; even by Australian standards it is featureless. The opal mines have dumped spoil heaps all about and all in all it does not charm. However, we have been reliably informed that the tour is interesting. Coober Pedy's history and underground buildings make up for its stark appearance.

Since my last post we have driven many kilometers and have seen the Uluru, formerly known as Ayers Rock. It is a pretty big lump of sandstone, and the scientific explanation for its being there makes little more sense than the Aborigines' Dreamtime stories. We managed to catch a ranger-guided tour to explain some of the detail, walked another short trail and drove all around.

Then we went to Kata Tjuta (I think I've spelled that correctly) or the Olgas. These are smaller, but still impressive lumps of red sandstone. We walked some of the trails and had a very pleasant chat with a Melbourne couple over a cup of tea.

Rather than pay the famously high prices at the Ayers Rock Resort, we stayed at Curtin Springs Homestead, which provides a basic campsite 80km up the road. An emu wandered into the campground and eagerly approached a table bearing a bowl of salad. We heard an exasperated, "Nein, Nein." and more German that might have been an invitation to go away delivered under stress. However, the bird exercised some charm and was eventually rewarded with some left over lettuce.

We were not so generous ourselves, but nonetheless the pet emu decided s/he liked us and settled down for the night not 10 metres from our van.

After Uluru we went to Kings Canyon, of which we had heard excellent reports. It was a very pleasant little gorge, well populated with birds, including 3 species new to us. The rim walk is advertised as 3-4 hours, which would have put pressure on our schedule, so we took the 15-minute helicopter flight instead. It was great.

Gotta go!

Alice Springs Desert Park

Before I get in to a description of the Park I must apologise for the lack of recent photos. This Internet cafe is very convenient and reasonably priced, but it doesn't have a DVD drive so I can't upload photos. Sorry.

We started our visit at 7:30 in the morning and stumbled out at 5:30 in the evening, utterly exhausted and exhilarated. The Park explains the natual history of the arid centre of Australia.

The early start was for a guided bird watching walk. The Park has many birds in aviaries, but this was all about wild birds that visit the park. Since we were the only tourists we had Anthony's undivided attention. Having someone who knows the birds was a great help. We would turn our binoculars on a small bid and Anthony would say "That's an inland thornbill. See the markings on the chest?" On our own we would not know what details to look for. often we don't even know which section of the field guide to look in.

Anthony was also able to indentify the bird calls we were hearing. He get really excited when he heard a particular song. "That's a grey honeyeater!" We gazed at the tree where the song appeared to be from and walked carefully towards it. The song stopped and almost immediately a small bird flew rapidly across our view and out of sight. Apparently most birdos in Australia hunt for a grey honeyeater all their lives and never see one. Wow.

Anthony knew the species well because a pair tried to nest in the Park last year. he even found the remains of the partly-built nest to show us. Unfortunately the birds gave up because other honeyeaters were stealing their material.

A little later we saw a family of splendid fairy-wrens. These are not rare, but they are very small birds and do not frequent campgrounds. The males in the breedng season are a dazzling blue and this male was in his courting suit. He was gorgeous. Because they are so small and active they are difficult to photograph, but I got a good picture of the female.

The stone-curlews were easy to photogaph. The pair are sitting on eggs and believe that their camoflage is good enough to protect them. And yes, we did walk right past them until they were pointed out to us.

The rest of the day was spent enjoying the many talks given by Park staff on various aspects of life in the Red Centre. It included a talk illustrated by free-flying birds of prey, a long discussion on the noctunal animals of the desert and a brief description on how the local aboriginal people survived.

There are many nocturnal animals, with a good selection in the nocturnal house. These included hopping mice and superficially similar marsupials, whose name I have forgotten. The mice eat seeds and apparently never drink, despite the low moisture content of their food. The little marsupials are carnivores and actually gallop rather than hop. They get plenty of moisture from their prey.

We have been educated in the various hunting techniques of snakes. Some even specialise in eating other snakes!

Then there are lots of aviaries, with examples of birds that don't conveniently just turn up. These were often good subjects for a photo. They included some nice princess parrots. I hope we find some wild ones to add to our list.

And ever visitor is given an audio guide so that, at the numbered points around the Park, we could listen to an explanation of, say, a plant's particular adaptation to the wildly irregular rainfall that occurs in central Australia.

Thus the Desert Park is the highlight of the holiday so far.

Today we leave Alice Springs and head for Uluru (Ayer's Rock or simply "The Rock"). The next Internet will probably not be until Coober Pedy. Will write again.

Farewell to the Tropics

We haven't seen much of the Internet lately. We've covered a lot of ground.

Near Broome there is a bird observatory. It's a delightful place and we met some lovely people there. We also saw some nice birds at the bird baths. What a pity we didn't have time to stay and do the tours.

The trouble was we had already booked a date to see the Bungle Bungles and we had to drive to the Turkey Creek Roadhouse. It took two days. Then we were ready for the tour at 5:20 the next morning. Ugh.

The road into the Bungle Bungles is rough even for a 4WD, so taking our campervan and driving ourselves was not an option. The tour was 2 days of air conditioned 4WD drive bus and walks around the most interesting spots in a geologically very remarkable area. The distances were not long, but both days were over 40 degrees C in the shade. Most of the walking involved following fissures in the rock formations and at least part of them were in the shade, thank goodness. We diligently followed the instruction to drink lots of water.

Day 1 took us to Mini Palms Gorge and Echidna Chasm, then back to a rather luxurious bush camp, with permanent tents, showers and even a bar. The camp also had a little bird bath where we saw many finches, honeyeaters and even some quail. Day 2 was Picaninny Creek and The Cathedral. LOTS of photos. We were then delivered back to Turkey Creek and our camper.

From there we continued back towards Katherine. In Kununurra we visited the Hidden Valley and had the great good fortune to see a bower bird displaying by his bower. He flunted a purple crest, picked up choice treasures from his mound, sand, bounded around and apparently got a mere "Ho hum" from the female.

Later in the valley we came across an English twitcher (obsessive bird watcher), who had seen one of the rare white-quilled rock pigeons that live in the area. The wretched bird did not reappear for us BUT the twitcher did not see the bower bird display, nor had he seen the even rarer cinnamon-quilled rock pigeon in Kakadu that we saw two of. Neener neener neener.

From Katherine we visited the gorge in Nitmiluk National Park and did the 3-gorge cruise. The guide was not a local. That accent had to be acquired in South Auckland! A very, very lovely gorge system and a warm swim.

Then we headed South for some heavy-duty driving. It's 1166 km from Katherine to Alice Springs. That's not to say we didn't see some nice places along the way. At Mataranka there are "thermal" springs. They are not geothermal as we have in NZ, but the ground water temperature is 32C. The setting was very picturesque, too. The campground has resident peafowl and two agile wallabies came hopping by in the evening, hoping for a handout.

Much further South we visited a desert mango farm and bought chutney. We also sampled and purchased their mango wines! And they are growing grapes on the same property. We didn't know they could be grown in the tropics.

On the last stage into Alice Springs we were surprised by a good, solid period of rain. The first we have seen since we arrived in the North and most unexpected. Rain in the desert brings out the flowers and also, in thsi case, the cops. I was randomly breath-tested just before we arrived in Alice. Lucky it was such a small taste of mango wine!

It is also surprisingly cool here. We (i.e. Eve) have done a huge pile of laundry and booked some tours around the town. Hopefully there will be time to post some more news on this blog before we leave.

Top End - Part 3

More on Kakadu.

Kakadu is not only famous for its wildlife, but for the Aboriginal rock art that it contains. There are two major sites, Nourlangie and Ubirr. Both are accessible along sealed roads, have helpful interpretive panels and if you turn up at the right times and places a Park Ranger will deliver a free talk. Great.

After reading the post about Kakadu's weather you will be wondering how any painting avoids being washed away during the Wet. The trick is to paint on the highest hills and to paint on sheltered surfaces. Both locations were superb sites for wet season camps, with rocks strategically leaning over to provide shelter from the rain and allow artwork to survive for thousands of years.

The talks at Nourlangie were especially good, and we learned much about Aboriginal culture. this included the complex system of who you were and were not allowed to marry. Adult brothers and sisters are not even allowed to talk to each other, let alone marry. Likewise a man and his mother-in-law may not speak BUT the man has an obligation to support the mother-in-law. The mind boggles.

Anyway, here are some examples of the art:

Lightning Man has a loop of lightning and stone axes tied to his knees to deliver the thunder. The little growths from his head may be more axes or may be antennae. There is a red grasshopper that appears in its adult form during the thunderstorm season and is associated with Lightning Man.

Alas, I have not got the story of this painting with me. I will look it up and post it later.

This kangaroo is in a much older 'solid' style.


A particularly fine example of an overhang. There are paintings on the far left. The partly obscured rocks just in front of the railing have several indentations where paint or seeds were ground down.

Blogger is misbehaving today. Will post some more art later.

Top End - Part 2

Once we had got properly acquainted with our camper van we headed for one of this trip's 'must see' destinations, Kakadu National Park.

To understand Kakadu it is necessary for me to explain the climate. We were there in The Dry, which makes it look like a sensible piece of land. In The Wet rain falls in torrents for months on end and more water runs off the escarpment drowning huge areas of floodplain. At Yellow Water we were shown the park ranger's mooring. It is a floating jetty attached to pillars about 4m high. During the Big Wet a few years ago the jetty floated clear off the top of the pillars and was recovered 3km away. Even in a valley this would be impressive, but plain here is several kilometers across. That's a lot of water!

During The Wet vast tracts are accessible to water creatures. Maturing barramundi (a favoured sport and eating fish) swim down to the sea and spawn in the mangroves. Later their fry swim back up into fresh water for the first few years of their lives. Also, estuarine crocodiles ("salties") swim up from the sea and can get virtually anywhere.

When it stops raining the fresh water runs off in to the sea and the water levels start dropping. In time, there is enough dry land that a freshwater sea with a little high ground has become a landscape with conventional rivers, lagoons and billabongs. The fish, frogs, turtles and crocodiles crowd into these restricted areas. Eventually some of them dry out entirely, which is bad luck on the baby barramundi. The turtles can bury themselves in the mud and the frogs probably do the same. The crocs eventually figure out that they are marooned and set off across country. Most of them make it to permanent water.

We were there in the middle of The Dry, when most of the temporary water had already gone. The last Wet was a very modest one, with half the normal rainfall.

The Aboriginal folk sub-classify the year into six seasons. To read about this click here and use the link to Climate. Note that the indigenous people regard August as the "cold" season, when we were only getting up to 35C in the shade.

OK, now you know how Kakadu works.

At our first stop in the national park we had a good view of the general principles at the Mamulaka wetlands. Here was a lavish permanent hide and marshes into the distance with hundreds of birds. Due to the contrariness of the birds and the angle of the sun, very few of them were suitable for a photo.

An egret paddling through the mud.

There was a well signposted bushwalk at the site. This took us past some helpful information boards and came close to some more marshy places, where hundreds of whistling ducks were enjoying some shade. We also learned about some of the trees:

This is a kapok blossom. It will become a seed pod, like the one above, that will ripen with seeds and teddy-bear stuffing!

Part of a pandanus seed cluster. The entire thing resembles a huge pineapple. The cockatoos can crack the individual seeds to get at the edible kernel.

More photos frm the South

These are a few more photos from our drive along the Great Ocean Road between Melbourne and Adelaide:

A cafe in the Otway National Park puts out food for the birds. Here, two crimson rosellas are getting their share.

Proof that they do have heads. If you click on the picture you can enlarge it and see what a messy eater this bird is. The small brown bird in the background is a sparrow. Well, they can't all be exotic.

Another big wave rolls along the cliff-face at Loch Ard Gorge and crashes into the harder rock that so far has resisted the erosive efforts of the sea.

An island in the same area has eroded to leave an arch, and a layer of harder rock has created a waterfall in the tidal zone each time a wave recedes.