The longest and the scariest

You can tell we are back in sivileyesashun – cyvylisash – where other people live and where there is power, because here is another blog update just one day after the last one.  At present I am sitting in the camp kitchen/dining room having a bourbon or two, and waiting for the rain to stop.

Yesterday afternoon we went in to LAUNCESTON to visit what was advertised as CATARACT GORGE with the World’s Longest Single Span Chairlift.  The details are shown on the photograph.  It’s not high, but is apparently as it claims, the world’s longest single span.  Naturally we had to have a go.  

As the chairs are only built for two people, Christel went by herself, and Cameron and I followed.  It takes about 10 minutes to go across and after a walk around and looking at the views we headed back. We asked Cameron if he would like to go by himself for the return journey.  He decided he would, but he had to check with the lift operator if it was OK for 8 year olds to go by themselves.  Given the OK, away he went.  Quite a feat of courage on his behalf.  I couldn’t let on that his dad wasn’t all that comfortable about swinging across a river in a little chair dangling on the end of a rope.  He was on a high afterwards.

Saturday morning we headed off to check out EVANDALE a small historic village largely built, as you guessed it, by convict labour, and after that CLARENDON HOUSE. Then if time permitted we would go to BEN LOMOND a Mountain Range with a switch back approach road known as JACOB’S LADDER.

EVANDALE is a small town built like an old English Village. Not a lot to see but it was like walking around in an old English Village.  Strange that.  Never mind, time for another Bourbon.

Clarendon House is shown on the tourist brochures as an historical building built in the style of an elegant English Estate Home.  I had seen a photo of it a long time ago in NZ and always wanted to see it.  I wasn’t disappointed, very grand with servants’ quarters downstairs and park like grounds, which unfortunately hadn’t been kept quite up to scratch.  The house and its surrounding outbuildings took up about 10 acres.  I was glad we had gone to the trouble to see it, but it didn’t do a lot for Christel. Cameron was quite impressed with the concept of servants, and the fact that they had to live in a separate part of the house, and use separate stairs etc.

With most of the afternoon left, we decided to go to BEN LOMOND.  Like Clarendon House, again I had seen a photo of Jacob’s Ladder on the road up to Ben Lomond some time ago, and put it on my ‘must see’ list.  Talk about impressive.  You drive up the mountain range for about 18 kilometres, and as you come out above the bush line there in front of you is Jacob’s Ladder.  A switch back road climbing up a steep rock face leading to the top plateau area of Ben Lomond Range.  We stopped and took some photos before going up, but they just don’t do justice to what an impressive piece of engineering this is.

Talk about scary. I’ve been on a few hairy tracks on my quad bike, but nothing quite this high.   Metal road just over one car width wide, with incredible drop offs, and nothing but bloody great rocks waiting for you below.  When we got to the top and stopped to check out the view, I couldn’t get out of the car.  My backside was sucked hard into the seat. Certainly didn’t need a seat belt. And we still had to come back down.

We drove across the plateau for about 2km to the ski village, and had a welcome beer in Tasmania’s Highest Pub.  Reinforced with a bottle of Boags, we headed back down.  This time Christel ran the video from the car as we came back down.  We stopped at the bottom and took some more photos, before heading back to camp.  Jacob’s ladder was a great experience and I am really pleased to have had the opportunity to travel it.  Another ‘must do’ crossed off the list.

Tomorrow we will move on from LONGFORD.  Not sure where to yet, but you’ll find out in the next blog.

Port Arthur and Freycinet National Park

Blimey, where does time go.  Where were we? That’s right, a very wet Saturday morning at 7 Mile Beach Motor Camp. (7 MILE BEACH is alongside HOBART Airport)  Seeing as it was so wet, we spent the morning doing school work and updating the blog.  In the afternoon the weather cleared up so we went in to nearby SORELL to do grocery shopping and a look around.  On the way back to camp we drove past the end of the airport runway just as an A320 Airbus was taking off.  Naturally we had to stop, and as it screamed just meters over our heads we were reminded of our ‘jet blast’ days in Rarotonga.

Saturday night it blew a gale all night.  First we took the tarp down before it shredded itself, then about midnight, tied the tent down with every available tie down point it had. Sunday morning we packed up just before it started raining again, and headed for PORT ARTHUR, about 100 km away.

PORT ARTHUR is famous for its history as a Penal Colony, and was the first port of call in Australia for convicts deported from England.  The wind was blowing at 100km per hour, or thereabouts, and we were concerned about finding somewhere sheltered enough to pitch our tent for the night.  We settled on WHITE BEACH, about 10km west of PORT ARTHUR.  After erecting our tent in the most sheltered spot we could find, we headed off to see PORT ARTHUR.

We spent a good 4 hours exploring the ruins and enjoying a short harbour cruise, visiting a couple of the outlying islands, one used as a burial ground, and the other as a special prison for boys.  The island prison for boys was designed to keep them separate from the more seasoned adult convicts.  Boys from the age of 9, to the age of 14, were held there under very harsh and strict conditions.  Looking at Cameron it was hard to imagine a kid his age being taken from his parents, and then shipped all the way to Australia, just, as was often the case, for stealing a loaf of bread because he was hungry.

Exploring the ruins left us with very mixed emotions. Some of awe at what the convicts had been forced to build, and what they had achieved, and at other times a feeling of absolute hopelessness and despair at the conditions under which they existed. There was something about the place that got to you.  Towards the end of the afternoon, Christel and I looked at each other and realised we were both experiencing the same uncomfortable feeling, and  agreed to get away from there as soon as possible. Cameron also commented that he found it to be a ‘Creepy Place’.  Having said that, it is definitely a ‘Must See’ experience for anyone visiting TASMANIA.

We arrived back at our camp site to find the wind had changed direction but was still blowing a gale and battering the shit out of our tent. Again we had to anchor it down to every available point.  The temperature had been about 14 degrees all day, and with night fall dropped to about 10.  We cooked and ate tea in the camp kitchen, then spent a miserable night listening to the wind do it’s best to blow us to bits, with squally showers thrown in for good measure.

Monday 21^st, we packed up quickly between showers, and left without stopping for breakfast. As we drove away, the outside temperature on the car dashboard showed 7 degrees!  We wondered how bloody cold it gets here in the winter.  We stopped in at SORELL again and had a McDonalds Breakfast before heading north up the East Coast.  As we headed north the weather improved, and by the time we reached the coast again at TRIABUNNA, it was a relatively pleasant day.  The road from SORELL to TRIABUNNA went through very desolate inhospitable country similar to the Scottish Moors. Made you feel small and insignificant.

We were heading for the FREYCINET PENINSULA where we hoped to spend a few days exploring the National Park, including its famed ‘Wineglass Bay’, and it’s pristine white beaches.  Our Camps 5 Australia camping guide had described several free camping areas along the beaches and we were hoping to spend time at one of them.

The first one was on the East side of the peninsula about 9km from the mainland. An area known as FRIENDLY BEACHES.  We travelled about 4 km down a rough dirt track and burst out onto the coast with miles of beautiful white beaches in front of us.  This was to be ‘home’ for the next 3 days.

We found a vacant camp site nestled in amongst the scrub about 20 meters from the beach front.  No water, no power, and the nearest long drop about 300 metres away. Brilliant.  ‘Our’ beach was about 100m long ending in rock outcrops at each end.

We had no sooner set up camp when we got our first visitor.  A wallaby hopped across the road and stopped in the scrub right opposite our tent.  We quickly got out our cameras and photographed it from every possible angle.  Little did we know how many more such encounters were to come.

That night a possum tried to steal our rubbish bag, and was in no hurry to ‘bugger off’ when I got up to rescue it, and something, either the possum or a wallaby, tried to climb into our dishwashing bucket and arsed the lot over causing a hell of a racket.

Next morning sitting on the beach enjoying our first cup of tea, we watched another wallaby come bounding along the beach towards us.  Stopping about 5m away, he proceeded to carry out his morning grooming, and after this little show, quietly disappeared into the scrub.  We were spell bound.

The next 2 days were spent fishing off the rocks, exploring and generally lazing about.  We caught 2 fish, similar to Cod, which we had for tea one night. Wallabies became frequent visitors to our tent site, and had no problems joining Cameron and Christel for school lessons in front of the tent.  On our last morning I woke to find one poking his nose under the tent flap.  On getting up, we found 4 within 5m of the tent.  They were quite content to just go about their business foraging for food in the undergrowth.  What a great experience for Cameron sharing nature like this.

All good things must come to an end, and on Thursday 24^th, we reluctantly packed up and headed for civilisation again. We all needed a shower and had a heap of clothes and bedding that badly needed washing.  We hadn’t explored the National Park, or seen its famous ‘Wineglass’ bay, but we had experienced what it had to offer in a different way, and felt we hadn’t missed anything.

We travelled north to ST MARYS, and then inland to hit the main North-South Road just above CAMPBELL TOWN, where we had stopped on our way south to HOBART two weeks ago.  Then we headed north again towards LAUNCESTON.  We are now camped at LONGFORD, a small town just south of LAUNCESTON.  From here we intend to explore the LAUNCESTON area, and visit some of its historic sites and places.

It is now Friday morning, and with all the washing done and hanging on the line, Christel and Cameron are doing school work, and I am doing the blog.  We have had some feedback from Cameron’s teacher at the Correspondence School, and she seems very impressed with what student and teacher are achieving, which is comforting for Christel to know.  This afternoon we will start exploring the area around here.  Whew. Finished.

End of the Road

Bet you thought we had disappeared off the face of the Earth.  Not quite, but we have been as far south as it is possible to get by road in Australia, where there is no power and hence no communications.  Let me fill you in.

On Friday the 11^th we went into Hobart City for a look around and to find our way to the boat show, and also to find out where the SALAMANCA MARKETS were held, as it was our intention to spend Saturday doing the markets and then the boat show. We managed to get a park right in Salamanca Street which is adjacent to the wharf area, so decided that since we were this close we might as well take a look. 

We spent the afternoon wandering through the various exhibits and displays, and went on board a couple of the big three masted sailing boats.  Some of the displays on the art of wooden boat building were absolutely fascinating, the skill and workmanship unbelievable. After about 4 hours we were all feeling a bit knackered, but realised we had only seen about a quarter of the show.

Saturday saw us back in the city, and like thousands of others, driving around looking for a parking place.  We finally found a parking building sign with parking spaces available.  After joining the queue of cars going in, we went up 10 floors and got one of the four spaces left.  We were only about 200m from the wharf area.  Talk about lucky.

Then it was off to wander through the SALAMANCA MARKETS.  About 500 stalls selling everything that nobody really wants. Then it was back to the boat show for the rest of the day.

Sunday, we had promised Cameron that if he got all his school work done early enough we give him a treat.  We had seen a Mini Golf Course advertised as one of the best in the world so thought we would give it a try.  Another wonderful experience for us.  Then it was off to see the views from Mt WELLINGTON.  Mt WELLINGTON is 1250m high and overlooks Hobart.  It is a half hour drive from the city. The views were amazing and we would have stayed longer if it wasn’t for the wind coming straight off Antarctica and blowing right up our kilts.

Monday we left our camp at NEW NORFOLK to go south to a place called COCKLE CREEK.  Fellow campers had recommended it as a must see. Looking at a map of Tasmania, if you go to the southernmost point, and then just to the east of that there is a small bay or inlet. At the very southern end of that inlet is COCKLE CREEK, and as I said earlier, it is as far south as you can go by road in AUSTRALIA.

It is on the edge of the huge SOUTHWEST NATIONAL PARK and what a wonderful spot.  Camping is free and facilities are limited to long drop toilets, and one water tap along about one and a half kilometres of beachfront camping.  The bay is extremely sheltered and the whole area reminded Christel of the Able Tasman National Park at the top of the South Island.   

Needless to say we spent three idyllic days there, swimming, fishing, sunbathing, and wandering along the magnificent beaches.  A fellow camper loaned us his kayaks, and that was the last we saw of Cameron.  Fishing from the beach wasn’t very rewarding, but by dropping a line over the side of the kayak a bit further out, we were soon reeling in flathead, a small fish prized for its flavour.  Straight from the sea into the pan it was delicious.  At one time Christel was standing knee deep spinning, when she looked down and saw a stingray about a metre across quietly cruising past her.

All too soon we had to pack up and leave.  We had heard that our beautiful sunny weather was due to change on Thursday, so we had decided to head back into civilisation then.  Sure enough we woke up Thursday morning to light drizzle.  It stopped long enough for us to pack up, and then with many a backward glance, left this little piece of paradise behind and headed back towards HOBART.  Oh, by the way, Happy Birthday Wayne for the 16^th.  I hope your day was as enjoyable as ours was.

We had information about several touristy things to see and do on the road between HOBART and COCKLE CREEK.  First were HASTINGS CAVES and the nearby thermal pools.  The caves were deep in the bush of the Southwest National Park, and were discovered by bushfellers during the World War One.  They were well worth a visit, going 40 meters underground with lots of magnificent stalactites and stalagmites.  The thermal pool was a bit disappointing, only 28 degrees but a lovely spot to visit.  On our walk from the pool back to the car we were lucky enough to see a female Lyrebird quietly going about her business in the undergrowth.

We camped Thursday night at the small seaside town of DOVER, with street names such as Slaughterhouse Road and Blubberhead Street.  It was a whaling station in earlier days.  Then yesterday, we headed north again.  This time our destination was the TAHUNE AIRWALK 29 km east of GEEVESTON.  This was another magnificent experience.  The Airwalk is 28 metres above the ground, and goes for over half a kilometre through the tops of the giant HUON PINES, and assorted gum trees.  Even at 28 metres above the ground, sometimes you were still less than half the height of some of these gigantic trees.

The end of the Airwalk is cantilevered about 30 metres out over the HUON RIVER and at the end is 48 metres above the river.  Needless to say you need a good head for heights to go out there as it sways and rocks quite a bit.  Cameron was having a ball seeing how much sway he could get going.  Christel wasn’t the only woman who couldn’t bring herself to venture out on the cantilever, but we aren’t allowed to mention that.

On our way from GEEVESTON out to the Airwalk, we stopped off at a couple of sightseeing spots, one of them to see Australia’s largest tree.  A Swamp Gum.  It’s not the tallest, but is the biggest in terms of cubic metres of timber with 368 cubic meters of usable timber.  It is 87 metres tall, (the tallest is 99.6 metres), dead straight, and is 6.2 metres across at the base.  It is estimated to weigh 405 tons.  I don’t know how it compares with our Giant Kauri, Tane Mahuta, but it was certainly awe inspiring to stand in its presence.

On our way back from the Airwalk we came around a corner and there was a male Lyrebird scuttling across the road.  Another lucky encounter for us.  After that we continued north coming back through HOBART, crossing over the Tasman Bridge to our Campground at SEVEN MILE BEACH.  Luckily we put the tarp up over our tent last night, as this morning we woke up to a very wet Saturday.

We will now see what the weather brings us before moving on.  From here we hope to get down to PORT ARTHUR, and then start up the East Coast.  We have booked our return tickets on the Ferry for Thursday the 10^th March.  So far we have travelled over Australia’s highest sealed road, been to the end of its most southern road, travelled over its oldest bridge, seen its oldest pub, and its largest tree.  What can be left?

Trains and Chocolate

NEW NORFOLK town was built, again surprise surprise, by convict labour.  It is built on the hills on either side of the Derwent River which flows alongside our campground and then on down to Hobart.  New Norfolk has the oldest continually operating licensed hotel in Aussie, first opening in 1815.  We hope to absorb some of its history and beer before we move on.  Cameron and Christel had a good 3 hrs of school work this morning while I did the blog.  We had promised Cameron that if he was really good at his school work we would give him a treat in the afternoon.

After lunch we headed into the outskirts of Hobart for his treat, a visit to Alpenrail.  Little did we know it was going to be a treat for all three of us.  It is advertised as one of the world’s top five model railway attractions.  We were soon to discover why.  Built by a Swiss immigrant and his son, it covers an area approximately equivalent to two average sized houses, and is a replica of a Swiss alpine village and its associated rail system.  It took them over twelve years to build.  It is currently operated by the son, Rudi, whom we had the pleasure to meet.  He said they lost count after 20,000 hours, of actually how much time they spent on it.

They have replicated the village and surrounding mountains as accurately as they could, to the point where Swiss visitors have come in and said (in Swiss of course), “oh my god, our house is just around the corner from there,” and “I have walked up that valley”, and “my father used to graze his cows in that alpine meadow”.  What a fantastic display.  Rudi, the son told us what to expect before he switched the display on, and left us to watch absolutely fascinated as trains stopped, started, waited at points and disappeared in and out of tunnels.  Meanwhile ski lifts were running and you were busy continually discovering all sorts of little details they had added to make everything as realistic as possible.  All accompanied by the background sound of Swiss cowbells tinkling, waterfalls tumbling down mountains, and everything else relevant to the scene we were watching.

After about seven minutes we watched in awe as the lights dimmed giving the effect of the sun setting behind the mountains, and lights came on in the houses in the village and up in the mountains.  We could even see little fires burning in the houses, and of course all the lights on the trains and in the passenger carriages came on.  We could see the passengers sitting in their seats as the trains wizzed by.  

As night fell a storm approached, starting as lightening away in the distance in the mountains, accompanied by distant thunder, and then as it got closer, the thunder increased to the point where the very floor we were standing on shook with each thunderclap. It was so realistic we wouldn’t have been surprised if it had actually started raining on us. Throughout all this the trains continued to run, their headlights shining on the tracks.

Gradually the storm passed and as the new day dawned the lights went out again.  We watched as the trains continued on their busy schedule, still discovering fascinating details hidden in the scenery.  Soon this day ended and again we entered into a night.  A much milder storm this time, but as the new day broke, mist rolled out across the lake and covered the valleys.  Absolutely incredible.  Cameron eventually ran out of long descriptive words trying to explain what he was experiencing and how he was feeling.  He was wishing the boys were here to see it.

What an amazing experience.  Rudi told us that the whole set up had been made strong enough to allow him and his father to walk on it during its construction.   They had also installed overhead gantry cranes to allow them to hang over the whole thing to gain access to some of the more inaccessible areas.  We are sure nothing we will see will beat this, but who knows.

Coming down from a high, we travelled further in to Hobart to visit the Cadbury Factory, and hopefully have a tour.  Owing to the fact that the factory is very much automated there was little to offer in the way of a tour, but after paying our $17.50 entry fee, we were each given a king sized stick of chocolate to chew on while we got a guided explanation of how chocolate was made, and of course untold samples of the various stages as the chocolate was processed, through to more samples of the various final products.  We staggered out all swearing off chocolate for the next few years, and still clutching the original sticks we had been given.  It’ll be a while before we can even look at them.

When we got back to our camp we found there had been a huge influx of campers with spaces becoming very limited.  It was lucky we had decided to come down to Hobart when we did.  We have heard the camp will be fully booked by tomorrow. We are surrounded by wooden boat fans from all over Aussie.  Builders, Hobbyists, Sailors, the lot. Tomorrow we will head in to Hobart central to get our bearings and do a bit of sightseeing before the big weekend.  Not only is the Wooden Boat festival on, there is also several other regattas and shows on the same weekend.  Watch this space.

Devonport to Hobart

Monday morning, after Cameron’s school work, it was back into Devonport for a few errands, shopping, and sightseeing. Our first port of call was an Auto Electrician.  Our Waeco Fridge wouldn’t work from our auxiliary battery.  I suspected a fuse but didn’t know where to find it.  That was soon sorted.  Next on the list was to buy a blanket. We had all been freezing at night. Christel found a huge one that covers all three of us, for $16.00.  It is very lightweight, folds up quite small, and has certainly done the trick.  Then it was the usual groceries and lunch by the river before we checked out an interactive science display.  Interesting but we were all a little disappointed with it.  Later we had dinner by the river and watched the ferry from Melbourne, the Spirit of Tasmania, come in.  It literally fills up the river as it comes up to dock.  Quite an impressive sight.

Back at camp, just on dusk, we joined another camping family, from Darwin, and went down to the river for another platypus hunting expedition.  This time we were more successful.  Christel and Cameron saw two, but I missed them as I was looking on a different part of the river.  Never mind. Cameron had been complaining of feeling a bit off colour for the last couple of days, and was continually complaining of being cold.  We are wondering if he is coming down with something.

Tuesday morning Cameron still not 100 percent, but keen to do some more sightseeing.  Next to our campground is the Australian Axeman’s Hall Of Fame and included a Platypus and Trout Encounter Centre.  Sounded all very exciting and was very well advertised everywhere we went.  Naturally we were keen to see it, but a quick look inside the door and we soon realised this was very overrated, and certainly not worth the exorbitant prices they were asking.  We then went into Latrobe to visit a museum come shop, of a collection of all sorts of memorabilia. An absolute rabbit warren, actually an old bank, jammed packed mostly with rubbish, but with a few interesting relics of the past.  Cameron was going downhill and wasn’t very interested, so we cut our visit short and went back to camp.

Wednesday morning Cameron wakes up feeling better, but with his face and parts of his body covered in red blotches.  We suspect measles even though he has had his immunisation shots.  Nothing much we can do except give him some paracetamol and keep an eye on him.  He is certainly a lot brighter than he has been for the last couple of days.

We have heard that there is a huge wooden boat regatta and display being held in Hobart this coming weekend, with tall sailing ships from around the world coming to visit.  Apparently this is bi-annual event, but this year is expected to be bigger than ever.  As a result there will be a shortage of accommodation in the area, so we have decided to head down to Hobart today as we definitely want to see the regatta and want to get in early for accommodation. We will then continue our trip around Tassie from there.

We packed up and headed across to LAUNCESTON, then down towards HOBART.  We stopped at CAMPBELL TOWN, where the road crosses over the oldest bridge in Australia still being used on a main road.  This bridge was built between 1837 and 1838 by convicts out of brick and stone.  They made their own bricks first, all 1,250,000 of them, and then built the bridge on dry land.  They were then told to divert a branch of the nearby Macquarie River to go under the bridge.  This meant digging a trench over 1 kilometre long.  Amazing what you can do with a few thousand convicts at your disposal for cheap labour.

Our next stop was the town of ROSS, famous for having the oldest bridge in Aussie.  This bridge features in most publicity brochures about Tasmania, and was also built using convict labour, and was built in 1836.  The whole town is very historic, and of course mostly built by convicts using stone hewn out of the surrounding ground.  They built some fantastic buildings.  Today it is a lovely peaceful historic town, hard to imagine what it must have been like back in the days when the convicts were slaving away building it.

We continued on south towards HOBART arriving about 4.00pm.  We had driven nearly the whole length of Tasmania, a distance of about 280km.  We are booked into a camping ground at a town called NEW NORFOLK, which is about 30 km west of the city.

Starting Tasmania

Let’s continue where we left off. 

After 45 panic stricken minutes, continually worrying about missing the ferry, we now found ourselves in a queue, where we spent the next hour waiting before we even got on the bloody thing.  Plenty of time to reflect on the virtues of being a good navigator.  For some strange reason Christel seemed to think it might be a good idea if she navigated and I drove next time.  Sometimes women are hard to understand.

The trip across on the ferry was very smooth, and we amused ourselves with an onboard movie,  2 or 3 hours of school work, touring the boat, and enjoying the sights as we left Melbourne and then later as we came into Devonport in Tasmania.  We finally docked at about 7.30pm. Tasmania is very particular about what fruits, foods, fish, etc are brought in, and to this end there is a customs checkpoint both before getting onto the ferry and then again as soon as you get off.  However we found it all a bit of a farce as they first asked if we were carrying any of the above, and then having been told no, asked to see in the back of the Pajero, and on opening it up, again asked if we had any of the above.  On being told no again, we were free to go.  No search, nothing.  Couldn’t see the point of it really.  Of course this all takes time and hence long queues both getting on and then leaving again.  Never mind, Welcome to Tasmania.

We spent the night in a cabin in a nearby campground, grabbing the first thing that was available, being well aware there were still lots of like minded travellers still coming off the boat.  It was the worst accommodation we have struck, and the most expensive.  $125 for the night.  I think they are ripping people off because they are so handy to the ferry.

Next day, Saturday, we moved to a lovely camp ground at LATROBE, which is on the southern outskirts of DEVONPORT.  We plan to stay here for three or four days while we get our bearings and check out some of the local sights.  After setting up camp we went into DEVONPORT to get groceries and look around.

On Sunday 6^th we visited the Don Station Steam Train Museum, and took a ride on a train pulled by a steam engine.  A great thrill for Cameron, who after the ride, was able to go up into the drivers cab and load coal into the fire. 

The Museum has a huge display of steam and other rail paraphernalia, including a ‘Real Thomas’ they are rebuilding.  Cameron of course had to climb aboard.

Afterwards we drove out to PORT SORELL, a small beach side town about 14km west of DEVONPORT and spent the afternoon there.  It had beautiful golden beaches, very much like Able Tasman National Park in the South Island of NZ. 

DEVONPORT and LATROBE are both on the Mersey River, which is renowned for having the highest Platypus population in Australia.  The river is about 100 meters from our campground, so we have spent a couple of evenings on the river bank looking for these elusive little fellows.  No luck so far.

A 'Leisurely' drive to the Ferry

So, the day started well with alarms ringing at 5.30. We managed breakfast and packing, and left camp bang on 6.30, along with several other travellers also heading for the ferry. Apparently we weren’t the only ones not taking any chances.  With very clear directions kindly supplied by the camp owners, we headed off through the Suburbs of Melbourne and were soon on the Western Freeway heading into the City Centre.  Our instructions were to get off the freeway onto Cook St, signposted Todd Street Service Centre.  No Problems right? Wrong. 

We won’t say who was driving and who was navigating, but we are still married.  The navigator, who just happens to be about 19 years older than the driver, and therefore more experienced, somehow had it in his mind to look for a sign saying Cook St Exit. The driver was far too busy coping with 4 lanes of traffic rushing to work to look for street signs.  Well, that’s her defence anyhow.  Personally, I think she had the easy job. The navigator realised his mistake as he saw the Todd Street exit zoom past his window.

There is a rather coarse word that represents the act of human reproduction, which very loudly escaped his lips at this point.  Unfortunately this drew Cameron’s attention to our predicament, and the ensuing 45 minutes did nothing to enhance his opinion of his father’s otherwise faultless language, navigation and leadership abilities.   Have you ever been totally and absolutely lost in Melbourne’s inner city streets at 7.00 am on a Friday morning with an out of date map, very few street names, rain falling, and a Ferry to catch?  And the clock is ticking?  No sweat mate.

Words can’t describe the next 45 terrifying minutes.  My maps were large scale, which meant a new page after about every 5^th intersection.  Sometimes the streets flowed from page to page; sometimes they jumped forward several pages, sometimes back.  Of course there was nowhere to stop to get our bearings, and by the time we had found a street name, looked it up in the index, found the appropriate page, then the appropriate street, we had travelled on to the next map. And all the time the clock is ticking.  Getting stressed?  Who me?  You ain’t seen nothing mate.

We finally ended up in a dead end street, somewhere down in the Melbourne Dockyards, I think, and were able to pull over.  At last a chance to fix our position, plot a course to the ferry, and Bob’s your uncle.  No sweat.  Right, we are on Collins St close to the intersection with Dockland Road, facing south according to the onboard compass.  So all we have to do is look in the index, find the streets, find where they intersect, and we’re off.  Easy.  Do you know how many Collins Streets there are in Melbourne?  Do you know how many Dockland Roads there are in Melbourne. Two thousand seven hundred and eleventy seven. That’s how many. And still the clock is ticking.

Time to do the unthinkable.  Ask a passerby.  But will they stop and talk to a stranger in the rain while they rush to work.  One did.  Just our luck.  He had only lived in Melbourne for 6 months, and didn’t really know his way around.  But he did know that the trams ran along the second street up, and he thought they sometimes went to the Ferry terminal.  They say a drowning man will grasp at a straw.  I never believed it before.

Second street right was Flinders Street, and there ahead was the Flinders Street Railway Station. Thank god.  At last we knew where we are, but how to get to the ferry.  There was nowhere to pull over and park and work it out, so it was back to the bloody index, map, street, ah here it is, too late, next street, shit,  what’s this street, don’t know there’s no name,  etc. We knew we had to get back across the river so I was frantically looking for a street that looked like it went over the river. Finally I found one that must be just ahead.  Turn right at the next intersection.  “I can’t, it’s no right turn.” Shit. Carry on.  Try this one.  “Can’t, it’s one way”. Shit. Shit. Shit. And still the clock is ticking. By this time we were on the approaches to the MCG and getting further and further away from the ferry.

Throughout all this Christel was negotiating rush hour traffic, trying to read street names, telling an increasingly concerned Cameron that despite his father’s rather strange behaviour, we would make the ferry ok, and doing her best to calm an increasingly blabbering idiot of a navigator. How she did it I don’t know.

Finally, and there is a god up there, we were able to cross the river and there was a road name.  For once the maps followed in natural order and I could plot a course to the bloody ferry.  We made it by ten to 8.  We had been lost for a good 45 minutes.  As a consequence I am now 85 years older, no longer have a son who thinks his father is bullet proof, and have even more admiration and affection for my wife.  What a woman.

I think that’s enough for today.

Bendigo to Melbourne

Our first port of call in BENDIGO was the information centre where it so happened the local Morse Code Club was giving a demonstration. Cameron became completely absorbed in the concept and watched fascinated as the operator tapped out a Morse Code message with his name in it, to a fellow operator in BEECHWORTH which is a town up in Ned Kelly Country.  He was even more fascinated when another message came dit-dah-ing back which the operator quickly typed up into a telegram which read “Hi Cameron my name is Leo and I am sending you this message from Ned Kelly Country”.  Cameron also got to spell out his name using Morse Code on the Morse Code Key.  Needless to say the telegram will be going into our scrapbook.

That took care of the morning.  In the afternoon we wandered about the city catching up on some arrangements for our Broadband connection, making enquiries at the Post Office about forwarding Mail, and some grocery shopping. By then we had had enough of the 40 degree heat, so it was back to our campground at MARONG for a swim and a cold beer or two.  So we have now had two full days in Bendigo and still haven’t seen anything, and tomorrow we have to head down to Melbourne to drop the van off at Creative Caravans so they can fix all the little problems.

Thursday morning we drove down to Melbourne, a distance of only 163 km.  When we left Marong it was a beautiful clear sunny day, but as we got closer to Melbourne ran into to heavy fog and drizzle.  We also watched with some alarm as the thermometer in the dash dropped from 38 degrees, finally settling on 18 as we got to the outskirts of Melbourne. Luckily it had cleared to overcast by the time we arrived at Creative.  We met Emma, the girl we had been emailing about all our problems.  She was very apologetic and took down a list of the faults we had.  She promised to have them fixed while we were in TASMANIA, and had also arranged storage, free of charge, for the van while we were away. She also directed us to a nearby caravan superstore where we spotted a KIPOR Generator for sale, which we very quickly put a deposit on.  We had been recommended these generators by other campers, but they are as rare as hens teeth because they are considerably cheaper than similar models, and also any generator in Australia is being gobbled up and sent north for the flood and cyclone victims.  The guy in the shop said he had ordered 100, but only received 20.  We also made enquiries about a metal box to mount on the rear towbar of the van to hold the generator and fuel cans.  All lockable of course.

Then it was off to our motorcamp to spend the night before catching the ferry to Tasmania.  We are booked on the 9.00am sailing, but have to be at the ferry by 8.00am.  We have been told to allow at least 30 minutes travel time from the camp to the ferry, but not wanting to take any chances, we plan to leave camp at 6.30, just in case anything ‘goes wrong’.  Little did we know?  Watch this space.!!!!!

Echuca to Bendigo

A big day for Cameron and his teacher today.  The first day of school.  Teacher says it went surprisingly well.

After school, at about 11.00am, we packed up and drove from ECHUCA to BENDIGO, a trip of about 1 ½ hrs, only 130 km.  During that time I think we went around about 10 corners.  Straights of anything from 5 to 10 km being the norm, and as flat as a pancake.  No wonder they have trouble with floods. The river only has to break its banks and there is nothing to stop the water from spreading for miles in all directions.  Most of the time while we were travelling the outside temp was reading 39 or 40 degrees.  Needless to say the air conditioner was working overtime.

Our campground for the night was at the Bendigo Showgrounds.  After setting up camp in the 40 degree heat we went into town to find a swimming pool, there being none at the campground.  Then we had a quick look around the centre of BENDIGO before heading to one of their famous old pubs for a cold beer. BENDIGO was founded on gold, and according to the local information, over 9 billion dollars worth was found in the vicinity of the town.  Some of the old buildings are very impressive, like something you see in a European city.

Back at camp, we were entertained by a couple of the local AFL Football teams training on the grounds adjacent to the caravan park.  I was so impressed with their codes for their various moves that I recorded some of it, and now reproduce it for your entertainment.  Bear in mind this is an actual recording of an Aussie Football Team in Training. !!

Mate, mate,mate, maate, mate, mate Maate. And then when it gets exciting. Matematematemate, maaaate mate, maaate, mate mate, matematemate, mate.  I haven’t actually managed to decipher their code yet, but they all seem to understand it.  They are obviously very clever, these Aussie Football players.

Today we have had another lazy day.  Temperature again varying between 39 and 40 degrees, with a strong wind to boot.  First we planned to shift to a motorcamp at MARONG which is about 11km west of BENDIGO and has a pool, and then we intended to see the sights of BENDIGO.  However before we could do any of that we received a visit from a fellow camper saying he had seen the New Zealand sign on our van and wanted to know what part of NZ we were from.  Turned out he was a fellow Kiwi from Greymouth who had been touring Aussie for three years and had no intention of stopping anytime in the near future.

Needless to say we picked his brain about life on the roads, pitfalls, problems etc.  He was a mine of information, and we are now so much the wiser on what to expect and what preparations we should make before heading into the outback.  At last we are starting to get a clearer picture of what to expect, and he just laughed at some of the horror stories we told him we had heard.  He said to just go with your gut feeling.  If it didn’t feel right, just move on.  In three years, mostly free camping he had never had any trouble.  Theft was a problem in some areas, same as NZ.  Showers, toilets and water can be far apart, and as for swimming pools, forget it.  Cameron will do this bit hard. He also told us to grocery shop well ahead, as some places if you could buy food, you had to take out a mortgage to pay for it.  Basically every time you came to a reasonably sized town, stock up.

By the time we had learnt all this it was after 2.00pm, so we packed up and drove the 11km to MARONG, where we are snug in our camping ground and the pool has been thrashed all afternoon.  (Best make the most of it by the sounds of things.)  We have now booked our tickets for the Ferry to Tasmania and cross over this Friday, the 4^th of February.  We will leave the van with the manufacturers in MELBOURNE so they can rebuild it, properly this time we hope, and also get them to add some metal boxes to carry our generator and spare fuel drums.  Tomorrow we will spend sightseeing in BENDIGO, and then on Thursday will head down to MELBOURNE to drop the van off.