avelog

In a faraway land, long ago – specifically, in Victoria, four weeks ago – I wrote my last post, leaving you hopeful of a last, dazzling month in Australia filled with fun, adventure, thrill after thrill, and lots and lots of chocolate. Wonder no more my friends, that’s exactly what happened and I’m here to make my report. As on the last occasion at which I made such a delayed report, I will cut it in two in order split the delirious dose of joy you get in order to avoid an overdose. The first (see below) details the Great Ocean Road journey, the grievous separation from our campervan, and our laidback days in Adelaide. The present post details our nine-day tour through the Red Centre, Darwin, and Kakadu NP and our last days in Australia. Enjoy!

Late in the afternoon on July 3rd we hopped on a Greyhound bus for the twenty-hour ride up to Alice Springs in the Red Center, and woke up in the morning to the unbelievably flat and desolate outback scrubland stretching to the horizon in every direction. Having seen no human habitation since dawn except the occasional roadhouse, we rolled into the dusty outback city of Alice Springs in the early afternoon and dragged our bags into the hostel provided for our scheduled nine-day Red Centre and Darwin tour.

An outback ambulance; our twenty-hour transport to Alice Springs

The first three day segment was based out of Alice Springs, making a big circle to visit Uluru (Ayers Rock), Kata Tjuta (The Olgas) and Kings Canyon. The first day involved a five hour drive down to the Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park, with a quick roadhouse stop for optional camel rides. After lunch at the permanent campsite, we stopped at Kata Tjuta to admire the great big red rock domes and hike for a couple of hours up between the domes on the Valley of the Winds walk. We had finally out-paced the rain, with not single white puff marring the wide blue sky. The rocks at Kata Tjuta were very different from those of famous Uluru close up, composed of many different little pebbles solidified into a conglomerate. Back in the bus, we paused at the sunset lookout to take a few quick photos before racing over to Uluru for the real sunset, whereupon we sipped champagne from plastic mugs as the setting sun rendered the Big Red Rock brilliant shades of orange, red and gold. Liz and I opted to the night beside the campfire in swags, zippered canvas bags complete with thin mattresses into which you slide your sleeping bag. The moon and stars overhead were almost too bright to sleep, but we eventually awoke from peaceful slumber into chilled five o’clock darkness in order to get out of camp and on our way.

The view from the saddle on the Valley of the Winds walk; Liz and I in the Valley; the domes of Kata Tjuta (The Olgas) from afar; Liz and I at Uluru (Ayers Rock) sunset

Uluru (Ayers Rock) at sunset

Kieran taking sunset photos at Uluru with campagne gla–, I mean cup; Liz with her favourite lizard; Liz and I in our swags under the stars

Sunrise found us starting out on the Uluru basewalk, our options limited both by high winds that forced the closure of the Uluru climb and respect for the wishes of the local aborigines that people not make the climb, as it is an aboriginal sacred site. Following a few hours gawping upwards at the rock, we drove another five hours to our next permanent campsite at Kings Canyon. The evening was spent cooking chicken, potatoes and vegetables in big iron pots in the fire, eating marshmallows and exchanging stories before another night in the swags.

Sunrise on Uluru (Ayers Rock); and again; the hadrail up Uluru; a wave-like erosional cave at Uluru; our permanent campsite at Kings Canyon

In the morning, we headed to Kings Canyon and embarked on a three hour walk up the Canyon wall skirting shattered rocks and ghost gums as we trekked around the Canyon rim. Although the waterfall at the end of the Canyon was completely non-existent during our dry-season visit, we did pass by a hidden little green oasis in a hanging canyon above the main drop; an odd site in the middle of the outback.

Various Kings Canyon shots; the birds are rock pigeons

Following another night at the disappointing hostel in Alice Springs, we boarded the bus for our second three-day stretch, this one a hard-driving journey north from Alice Springs to Darwin, a distant 1500 kilometers away. This made for a pretty boring three days for the most part, with stops at anything remotely interesting, including the Tropic of Capricorn and the historic telegraph station at Barrow Creek, and the roadhouse at Wycliffe Well, Australia’s goofy UFO sightings capital. Slightly more interesting were the impressively round boulders piled on top of eachother in a jumble at The Devil’s Marbles, and a character-filled visit to the Daly Waters Pub, the ultimate outback pub according to travel writer Bill Bryson, filled with grungy Australian memorabilia and whatever little scraps of themselves people felt they could leave behind (old driver’s licences, police badges, national flags, panties, shirts, student cards, etc…).

The Tropic of Capricorn monument; telegraph station at Barrow Creek; our bus and stereotypical outback guide, Will; a cracked Devil’s marble; Kieran benchpressing a giant boulder

Broken egg; Liz showing off; playing in the rocks; aliens at large; Kieran contemplating the long road ahead

Daly Waters, incl police presence

The major event of the three days was supposed to be our visit to Katherine Gorge where we could either go on a river cruise or rent kayaks. Due to some terrible blunder by our tour company (Adventure Tours Australia), there were no kayaks to rent, and we went instead on a lookout hike and gorge swim. The hike turned out to be quite hot and boring, unforgivably souring the three days for most of our fellow passengers. We stopped in at a hot pool for a quick swim before getting to Darwin on the third day, but it wasn’t enough to make up for the dull and disappointing trip, and a blunder with the tour accommodation in Darwin made for another couple of hours of stress and disorder.

Katherine Gorge

Fortunately, the group’s Alice-to-Darwin woes were temporarily forgotten when we all met up for plenty of beer and free pub dinners at the Vic Hotel in Darwin. With hundreds of people crowding the big bar, our little group cheered loudest to win our representative a $200 didgeridoo. The disappointment of no-sharesies on the didgeridoo was somewhat softened when she bought a few rounds of jugs for us all. We then went on to dominate the pub quiz, capped by my winning performance on-stage in the bonus treasure hunt round, clinching for us a $150 bar tab with which to fund the rest of the evening.

Due to some scheduling difficulties with the tour company, Liz and I had a rest day in Darwin during which we did a little window-shopping and some laundry before we set out on the final three-day leg of our tour with visits to Litchfield and Kakadu National Parks. These three days definitely made up for the middle three, as they were chock full of action and adventure.

We roared out of Darwin in our sixteen-passenger 4WD truck pre-dawn darkness and drove a few hours into Litchfield NP to visit Buley Rockhole for a swim. An hour was spent splashing about in a series of little waterfall pools, jumping in (see Kieran’s patented Super Star Jump in photos), and swimming hard against the current only to float gently back once giving up. After a short drive, we stopped for another swim at Florence Falls, a real waterfall with big drop and big pool (read: much less intimate and more crowded). Both of these swimming spots are apparently at too high an altitude for crocs to reach them, as crocs are quite inept at climbing hills. The afternoon was then spent on a two-hour crocodile-spotting cruise on the Mary River (several hours away from the swimming holes!), with magnificent views of the Mary River wetlands. Many different birds and other wildlife were spotted, including both fresh- and saltwater crocodiles. Our guide informed us that during the wet season, the water level in the Mary River wetlands rises ten meters, creating a ten-kilometer wide body of water.

Frolicking in the water at Buley Rockhole

Florence Falls (x2); freshwater croc on the Mary River; big freshie; the Mary River wetlands

Jabirus in a tree; a saltie at last; sunset on the Mary River

After a night at another permanent campsite, we were greeted by an almost unheard of sound. Rain in July in Kakadu NP, something that hasn’t happened for twenty years according to all the gossiping guides and rangers everywhere we went. We drove for an hour and spent the morning admiring ancient rock paintings at Ubirr in Kakadu NP. Many of the paintings were quite intricate, and we were informed that Ubirr was a teaching site where grandparents taught their grandchildren lessons through stories illustrated on the rock. Australian aboriginal rock art is classified into four time periods, the most recent of which is called post-contact. See if you can spot the white man in the paintings below! We then drove another couple of hours to Maguk Falls, including a very brief four wheeling experience through a little creek. Along the way, our guide told us all about how saltwater crocodiles (freshies aren’t a threat to humans) get into the swimming holes during the wet season, since water levels rise many meters, allowing them to swim over big boulders they would otherwise be unable to climb. The park rangers then have to fish them all out once the wet season ends so that tourists can walk about and swim without being eaten. It made us all feel absolutely safe when we were informed that several crocs had been pulled out of the Maguk Falls pool this year, but that it is quite deep and the rangers are never quite sure. Imagining all the crocs in the dark water below us, we swam about for a while and jumped off some more rocks.

Aboriginal rock art at Ubirr: spot the white man!

Liz and I over Ubirr; Maguk Falls; and the croc sign!!

In the morning of our last day, we four-wheeled it for two hours in to Jim Jim Falls (150 high). As late as two hours before arrival, we weren’t sure whether the walk and swim would be open because the rangers still hadn’t decided whether they’d yet gotten all the salties out. Well, it was our lucky(?) day, and they declared it open for the first time this season, having pulled eight sizeable crocs out since the end of the wet season. Our fear of crocs wasn’t quelled much by the croc trap right near the falls and the “No Swimming” signs that the rangers hadn’t yet had time to take down. In the end, nobody was eaten and I was able to swim up under the falls and sit on a ledge under the pounding, furious water for a few minutes.

Four-wheeling it towards Jim Jim; Golden Orb spider; Jim Jim Falls in the distance

The croc trap below Jim Jim Falls; a very pretty moth; Liz bouldering at Jim Jim

We made our way back to Darwin with a brief stop at a little cultural centre to attempt some understanding of the history of the area, followed by a pause to examine one of the giant termite mounds that dotted the landscape.

Liz and I in the 4WD; giant termite mound; giant termites! (just kidding)

We took at midnight flight from Darwin to Brisbane and then the train down the coast to Burleigh Waters on the Gold Coast. Ten relaxing and pleasant days on the Gold Coast were spent doing whatever we pleased, with a fair bit of sunshine and happiness. Liz had a tough time fitting all of her collected possessions into her bags, but we eventually closed all the zippers, said our goodbyes, and hopped on the bus/train overnight down the coast to Sydney.

Party on the Gold Coast!

We have now spent three days in Sydney at a little boutique hotel (standby winter rate!), with free continental breakfast every morning. The first day was spent exploring by foot in a big circuit that included the Botanical Gardens, Sydney Opera House, Sydney Harbour Bridge, Circular Quay, downtown, and Hyde Park. We ate out at a little café (splurging in our last days?!?) before heading back to the hotel for the night. The second day included a morning visit to the world-famous Bondi beach and some shopping, before bussing it back to Circular Quay to take a ferry around to Darling Harbour. The harbour views from the ferry were breathtaking, but photos of Sydney will have to wait until I have somewhere to upload them. We then bumbled (although Liz claims not to be a bumbler) about the impressive Sydney Aquarium for two hours in the evening before picking up a pizza on the way back to the hotel.

Today we did some more shopping, with a stroll through the Sunday markets at the Rocks near Circular Quay, and a return visit to the shops at Bondi Junction. Unfortunately, much to Liz’s disappointment, we didn’t end up buying anything! We’re now about to nip out for a bite to eat and possibly some jazz before getting some sleep for our big flight back to Canada tomorrow!

It’s tough to accept that the journey is nearly over. How can we expect to go back to normal lives (especially Liz since she’s been in Australia for eleven months)? Keep tuned for more exciting news, as I’m expecting to make a big personal and career-related decision during the next two days! I will also post pictures from Sydney and possibly a thoroughly embarrassing picture of me from our victorious pub night in Darwin.

See all you Canadians soon!

Last you heard, we had just left Melbourne and were making our way down along the south coast towards Adelaide. Stopping briefly in Geelong to upload the last entry, we rolled onto the Great Ocean Road, one hundred and some odd kilometers of the most beautiful scenery of any road in Australia. After a brief photo shoot at the Memorial Arch marking the official entrance to the GOR, we got our first taste of the ever-winding coastal way, around headlands above steep cliffs, down into sandy bays, with amazing blue surf and sunshine rendering brilliant the characteristic orange sandstone of this coast. The Split Point Lightstation provided the first, somewhat underwhelming, break from the twisting drive; a tall white lighthouse with no outstanding features. Fortunately, just offshore at the same spot was the first of the eroded sandstone pillars for which this coast is famous, and we treasured it as if it were one of the famous Twelve Apostles (see below) instead of a single lonely straggler.

Our campervan rolling through the Great Ocean Road Memorial Arch

Our detour inland at Lorne to visit the Erskine falls proved a bit disappointing, as the brochure photo was presumably taken during an unusually damp wet season, complete with computer-enhanced shades of green. Lofty expectations can render the prettiest little waterfalls immensely dull, especially after twenty minutes added driving time each way. Low spirits quickly evaporated a few minutes later when we stopped at a small roadside eucalypt stand recommended to us by the fine folks at the Geelong visitor’s centre. After stumbling along a few paths between the road and the water’s edge and finally giving up and heading back to the van having seen nothing but water and trees, we spotted an extra bit of grey amongst the grey branches, and what did we find but our first wild koala, sleeping away in a blissful ball of fur on a branch just above and behind the van! Koala in the wild… check.

Of course, our self-congratulations over the single wild koala were almost immediately eclipsed when I spotted (and believe me when I say this is difficult when it comes to little grey balls of fur high up in eucalypts) not one, but two koalas just moments down the road, prompting us to squeal to a stop in a cloud of dust and dreams-come-true, hopping out to discover that we’d somehow stumbled upon what must have been the secret koala athletics club where koalas do slightly more than sleep and eat. Evidently, koalas also climb things and poop! I mean, there were rumours, but no human has ever seen an active koala. After all, they sleep twenty hours a day! They even tried to poop on us intermittently as we ran excitedly from tree to tree staring upward in wonder at little grey blobs and dodging traffic on the narrow bend of road where we’d stopped.

Spot the koala!!

After a while, even pooping koalas get a bit boring, so we set off again, driving through rich late-afternoon light, each valley a cascade of brilliant sunshine, surf crashing up on the beach in a spray of fine white foam, every headland darkened by shadow and hammered by the ocean. As dusk crept in and rainclouds darkened the horizon, the main road left the coast, and we turned south onto a little side road towards Cape Otway, coming to rest shortly after dark at a pleasant and almost-deserted little caravan park that invited us to ‘camp under koalas’. Of course, it wasn’t until morning that we spotted our grey little friends, and these weren’t nearly as active as those of the previous day. Dodging cattle (in a national park!? quite common in Australia), we continued down the little Cape road, stopping for a peek at the local lighthouse ($12 admission to the grounds or free peek from a distant viewpoint?). Note the beware-of-snakes sign photographed below while hiking to the lookout.

Rainclouds darkening the horizon; beware of snakes

Having had our fill of trekking through snake-infested bushland, we were all set to drive up to some more waterfalls and redwoods (yes, Californian) inland, when our briefly-forgotten travel companion made a reappearance. It seems that the foreboding rainclouds of the previous evening had caught us up during the night and rendered our planned scenic route an impassable series of mud pits and lakes: all fun and games until someone loses a mud-filled eye trying to push the campervan out of the ditch, wheels spinning and spewing (I’ll steer!). Instead, we continued west along the Great Ocean Road, curving inland through rolling green pasture before cutting back to the coast. We stopped to get a coffee only to remember that we were out of cash. This was fairly concerning since we wouldn’t get our campervan deposit back until the end of the month and my credit card required a code I didn’t have possess.

The bitter taste of no-coffee was immediately washed away upon arrival at Gibsons Steps, a staircase carved out of the sheer cliff-face, cutting down two hundred feet to a surf-washed beach that stretched as far as the eye could see to the east. Turning west, we sighted what we decided was the first Apostle. The Twelve Apostles are the drive’s defining feature; a set of sandstone pillars grouped closely together along the coast, best photographed at sunset (we mistimed that bit). After marveling at the great blue surf, we climbed back up to the van and hopped down to the official Twelve Apostles lookout, taking the mandatory photos and enjoying occasional glimpses of the sun between clouds. Further rock formations made for scenic pauses, including Loch Ard Gorge, where a ship sunk in 1878, washing the only two survivors into the gorge. An eerie purple light apparently emanated from the nearby Blowhole, a hundred meters inland, as phosphorous matches from the ship’s cargo signaled the presence of eleven bodies. We also paid a visit to the neighbouring Thundercave, where heavy surf is funneled into a narrow channel that ends in a deep, dark crevice, creating great booming surf for tourists adventurous enough to descend a steep staircase to a fenced ledge inside the channel. A few minutes further down the coast, London Bridge wasn’t quite as impressive as it may have once been, as it used to be a two-arched finger of rock extending off a small peninsula before the arch attached to the coast collapsed in 1990, stranding two surprised tourists on the seaward side (later helicoptered to safety). Late sunset light over the Bay of Martyrs provided one last look at the impressive rock formations of the Great Ocean Road, and we arrived at its end at Warrnambool to stay the night with Liz’s uncle’s friend at her cozy little house filled with African art and decoration.

The coast at Gibsons Steps from above; from below; the ‘first Apostle’; Apostles Two and Three; the rest of ‘em

Liz at the Twelve Apostles; the same with Kieran; mountainous spray against the rocks near the Loch Ard Gorge (hundreds of feet??); a random arch off the coast; the Blowhole near Loch Ard Gorge

The entrance to the Thundercave; with us!; the Bay of Martyrs at dusk

The following morning was dedicated to a guided tour of Warrnambool and a stop to watch a Southern right whale frolicking off Logans Beach. Liz and I then set off for a marathon drive to Adelaide, passing through Mt Gambier (a little town that will come to haunt us).

Liz and I with Carol watching whales in Warrnambool

Four nights and associated days in Adelaide were spent relaxing and recharging once we’d returned our cherished campervan. We stayed with Liz’s relatives whom she’d never before met, Barbara and her son Aubyn. Barbara pampered us to no end, setting out breakfast in the mornings with fresh orange-juice from the tree in the backyard, making lunch and bringing it to us while we read our books, cooking us big suppers, and serving ice cream and cakes for desert, providing rides to the gym and shops, and generally being overly kind and generous. Born and raised in Adelaide, and having been unaware of the existence of any Canadian relatives, twenty-year-old Aubyn somehow still ended up playing ice hockey, something quite understandably uncommon in Australia. He plays for the competitive team in Adelaide, and we went to see him play on Saturday evening (the Adelaide Avalanche versus the Sydney Bears). Although Aubyn only got two shifts, being one of the rookies, the Avalanche won handily, and we went out with the team for dinner to a slick bar, feeling quite underdressed since all the players were required to wear suits.

Liz and I with Barbara, Aubyn, and Winston in Adelaide

We then set off into the heart of outback Australia for our nine-day guided adventure! Read the next post above for all the crazy details!