Sailing, sailing over the ocean blue........

So, what's the first thing you do on a cruise?............you look for food, of course and you never have to go very far. After depositing our large suitcases with the ship's staff on the dock, we dragged our smaller ones aboard, found our cabin and unpacked what we had. We worked up a big appetite so off we toddled to the first gargantuan feast, Fernie delighted that there are no more price tags.


Our Las Vegas friends, L&J were already aboard having been on for more than two weeks hooking a New Zealand cruise on the front of the Australian one. J's sister and brother-in-law, G&R were also with them. G&R hail from Missouri or Missourah as it's pronounced in their neck of the woods. It was going to be fun having them all with us for the next four weeks. Sadly, J's other sister had to cancel just weeks before the cruise for health reasons.


Our first piece of checked luggage had arrived in our cabin when we got back from lunch. “This was great” we thought, expecting the second one momentarily. But the hours went by, dinner time came and went, and still no suitcase. Wouldn't you know it was the one that we'd tucked our two LAX duty-free bottles of vodka into. Finally, we lined up at the purser's with all the other disgruntled passengers and we were asked “do you have any alcoholic beverages in your suitcase?” ….................Ummmmmmmm! What else could we say except “Yes”. The purser sent us down to 'security' on deck 4 – it sounded ominous. L went down with Fernie and thank goodness he did because when asked about the booze inside the suitcase, quick-thinking L chimed in snarkily with “It's just wine for goodness sake” and they released it to us without further inspection. Our room steward kept us stocked with fresh ice twice a day, clean highball & wine glasses and so we alternated rooms for our happy hours every afternoon before dinner. For some weird reason, Princess permits wine to be brought aboard as often as you want, so we sampled different Australian wines from each port of call.

When we first boarded, I was shocked at how old the passengers were – it was the 'nearly dead crowd'. They were so old......that I felt like a teenager. HA! You say. There definitely weren't many under 50's aboard. There were 30 children in total but then it wasn't school holidays yet. I think the average age ended up being around our age though when all the really old geezers moved out of the way. These long voyages (28 days) don't appeal to the young for several reasons – mostly, they don't get that much time off work and they don't have money that they're in a hurry to spend before they die.

The ship is full of Ozzies; Americans for a change are a minority and it seems as if most of the Australians come from the Melbourne area. There's a strong rivalry between the states of New South Wales and Victoria and between the cities of Sydney and Melbourne. Sydney gets all the attention from the rest of the world, because of its harbour and the opera house so Melbournians sneer and jeer when they hear someone's from Sydney.


Shipboard life muddles the brain; on sea days there's no need to think of anything but when the next meal is served or what time the entertainment starts. I have to keep reminding myself that these sea days are traveling days and we could be in airports, on & off planes all day. Then I keep the boredom at bay. It just seems such a waste of time otherwise to just sit in a deck chair reading a book – I can do that at home. I crave exploration. There are all sorts of events and pastimes to get involved in but they're not for us – 'been there, done that'. We're so jaded. I'm so glad that on this cruise the sea days are limited – no more than two sea days in a row and mostly just one at a time.


Adelaide (pronounced Adelide), in Southern Australia was thankfully overcast and cool instead of the extreme heat that had been forecast. A shuttle bus, compliments of the Adelaide merchants ushered us into town. I guess they expected us to spend money – well we did buy three bottles of wine to replenish our stock. Adelaide doesn't have the excitement of Sydney or the cosmopolitan air of Melbourne but it's an attractive and friendly city. What it lacks in vibrancy is made up by its cleanliness and order. We took a public bus out to the country town of Hahndorf in the green hills east of town. A peaceful faux German village with a main street lined with tourist shops, hotels and restaurants, it didn't keep our interest for long and we hopped on a bus back down to the city. The surrounding areas took a lot of damage in the out-of-control brush fires of last February, but none of it was apparent from the road.


A day in port, a day at sea, a day in port, a day at sea and then three ports in a row – now that's more my style. Then a day at sea was welcomed after traipsing around these towns for three consecutive days. From Adelaide, the ship crossed the middle of the continent across the Great Australian Bight (it looks as if a giant meteor once landed there and took a bite out of the continent), a wide expansive bay where it looks as if there's no civilization on the shores to speak of.


We ended up at Albany in the state of Western Australia; you'd have thought they could have found a more inventive name for a state, wouldn't you? A small town, population around 20,000, it lacked personality until we let the geocaches lead the way. We puffed up to Wagon Rock along a forested trail we'd never have found on our own, through shrubs laden with amber and rose-coloured blossoms, trees filled with cackling cockatoos up and out to a monstrous flat-topped rock on which the 360 degree vista made the sweaty climb all worthwhile. Soaked and exhausted, we still stopped at the giant discount liquor store 'Dan Murphy's' and picked up a couple of specialty wines 'tres cheap'.


There are some nice advantages from having sailed with Princess more than 15 times – this is our 18th cruise with this line One of the best perks is free laundry and dry cleaning. Fernie (aka the laundry guy) gathered up our dirty clothes every couple of days, listed them and left them for our steward.
“NO!” I said emphatically when he tried to put in my underwear. “I'll continue to hand wash them”. But he told me not to be so silly and put them in. So of course, I did. The first couple of loads came back intact but then one day when we checked the count, 3 pairs of my underwear and a pair of socks were missing. Three days later, still no luck. I envision some cross-dressing steward prancing around the ship in my panties – they're not lace or frilly and they're definitely not thongs, but they are awfully nice.


Next stop – Bunbury! Isn't that a name that evokes visions of motherly ladies with buns in their hair and gingham aprons, pulling trays of hot cookies or perhaps 'buns' from the oven? It's a quaint town just 100 miles south of Perth with lots of Victorian gingerbread and latticework on the downtown buildings. Shopping is 'the pits' anywhere in Australia because of the prices and there's not much in the way of tourist attractions in Bunbury other than the Dolphin Discovery Center. This center has the right idea because they do not in any way trap or cage the dolphins. The dolphins come into the bay of their own volition and even choose to swim with the flippered and goggled humans. But not when we were there. They chose instead to frolic and entertain around the cruise ship. Oh well, our $5 entry fee to the centre is well spent because of the work they do in protecting the wild dolphins. We are such philanthropists. Then once again the wonder of geocaching – we would have been so bored after our cursory look around town but with caches to hunt for, there are always hidden secret places to discover.


I can only put it down to a moment of temporary insanity but it's more likely second childhood. Fernie was aghast as I plucked a dead twig from a tree and etched G E R R I into the wet cement in a picnic shelter. After he got over the shock of me defacing public property, he said “ but you'll never be back in Bunbury to see it again!”. But I can imagine all the Bunbury families perhaps with one of those gingham-aproned grannies wondering who that GERRI is.


I don't remember if I've already mentioned the Australian flies yet, but no matter if I did, because they definitely deserve to be brought up again. These nasty little beasties are everywhere and I do mean everywhere. They like to fly into your face, especially eyes and mouth and if wearing sunglasses, they land on them and go 'walkabout'. So, we walk along the street waving across our faces to hold them at bay. I was told that this is called 'the Australian Salute'. One dear lady said “you don't need to suffer dear, you can buy Aerogard”. Oh goodie and off we went to buy this fly repellent and liberally coated our faces and hair with it daring the flies to touch us now. Well......they didn't give an Australian damn and seemingly enticed their friends to join them in the attack on the Canadians. $6.95 down the drain.


Perth. Funny how names can put you off a place – but it turned out to be so unlike my preconception. It's a lovely, clean and vibrant city riddled with quaint arcades and has lots of lush green parkland along the Swan River and throughout the town. We docked at Fremantle, the port city and took a train 12 miles into Perth.



Letting geocaching be our guide, we did a circuitous route about the city before ominous storm clouds rolled in and large raindrops made us run back to the built-up area and made a quick exodus back to Fremantle where the sun was still shining. Only 2 GC's were within a mile of the ship and wouldn't you know it they were at the highest point, an old navigational hill now a memorial to fallen soldiers. Hot, sweaty and tired, we headed back down towards Coles Liquorland – No, I don't have an alcohol problem; I just appreciate fine wines and I only have so much time in Australia to sample as many as I possibly can.


A sign caught our eye as we tottered back through town “Free Exhibit” That word 'free' is like a donkey's carrot to me. It was a strange and unlikely exhibit on the history of psychiatry and mental illness and the graphic audio-visual presentations portrayed the extreme torture that was used to heal the mad in bygone days. It was pretty gruesome. The purpose of the exhibit though was to bring attention to the fact that these days the mentally ill are over-medicated and not enough emphasis is put on research for cures.


Exmouth on the tip of the North West Cape in Western Australia, is hardly even a town. I don't know where the 2400 inhabitants live. Supposedly between April and October, another 4000 Australians flock here in caravans and motorhomes from the bitter cold south – I hear it goes down to around 5 degrees Celsius and that's probably overnight – the poor dears. Those aged roamers are called 'gray nomads' like our 'snowbirds'. The tropical north coast is always hot and a long reef teeming with sea life, the Ningaloo, lies just off the coast, in some places only 30 metres offshore. But it was a desolate place and even the Ozzies wanted a fast exit from Exmouth.


Emus run wild around town, on the lookout for handouts, I suppose. They're a bit skittish but cock their heads at you in a comical and expectant manner. We had hoped to get up to the Cape Range National Park and its steep gorges teeming with wildlife, about 15 miles out but found we'd need a 4 wheel drive which wasn't available, to get up the steep rocky hills where rock wallabies run amok.


A small snake called a 'guarda' looking much like our garter snake – maybe 15 inches long and as thick as my little finger – had the attention of a shopkeeper in the town square (if you could call it that). Feeling sorry for the reptile who appeared to be trying to get away as the shopkeeper used his shoe to corral it, I said “couldn't I just pick it up and move it over to the bushy area across the road?”. This brought derision “If ya' wanna spend a few weeks in hospital, then go ahead” he guffawed. The innocent looking snake was venomous.


My eyes have been accosted by the most horrendous sights on the sun decks aboard ship. Australian men wear Speedos. No matter that they're 75 years old, fat and flabby, skinny and bony or pasty white and not just the gay guys. At least most of the women keep their unsightly parts covered up even if their sense of style seems to be non-existent. Dowdy flowered housedresses proliferate as do polyester outfits that have been around for thirty years.


I've now talked to at least a hundred Australians and have gleaned all sorts of information from them such as how much they paid for their cruise and seeing as how they don't tip on land, what do they do about the automatic $10 a person tip applied to their accounts. Happy to report, they still paid a lot more for the cruise than we North Americans did even though it was heavily discounted in the last couple of months. Tipping though as some of the Ozzies said is 'just not done' and they filled out forms at the pursers to take the tips off their accounts. “If someone got a 10% tip in Australia, they'd faint” one guy said thinking that Americans tipped 10%. He thought us all absolutely mad when I told him, it was customary to pay 15% to 20%. Now these are my kind of people because as I've said before ad nauseam “I hate tipping”. So I lined up at the purser's office and filled out the form. However, now we can tip individuals for exceptional service.

A Change of Pace

Lucky us! We got to experience driving into Sydney in rush hour on the M5, to return our car to the airport – what I'll do to save a day's car rental charge. We arrived to a glorious and welcomed change of weather in Sydney; it was about 25 degrees with cool breezes wafting off the ocean. Friends (J&R) that we met eleven years ago on a month long voyage around South America, reside in the UK but have in recent years transplanted themselves to Sydney for four months of each year. Their son, his wife and children emigrated to OZ three years ago which made it such an easy choice for J&R to make the escape from the dark, gray winter days of England.. J&R have a lovely little apartment in Coogee, a beach suburb which is on the coast only a few miles south of the city centre and they generously shared their home with us for four days and we had a wonderful time together. For me, it was such a pleasure to be chauffeured around town after a week of driving on the wrong side of the road.


Having visited Sydney previously and spent quite a bit of time there, we had explored all the usual tourist haunts, so this time we saw more of the locals' hangouts. There's a cliff walk that winds up and down the coast for miles – north of Coogee, it curls up to Bondi Beach (the most famous beach of them all – I think).


There was a display of objet d'arte (modern sculptures) spread along the pathway in Tamarama, on the rocks, tucked into niches and on the green open spaces. They were massive creations with humungous asking prices - $30m and up and I'm not sure how many people would have room for them even if they could afford to buy one. It made for an entertaining stroll even though my attention was more on the magnificent cliff and ocean views. 'Two Hat Jimmy' had his home in the rocks on a precipitous headland in the midst of the art walk.


He'd squatted there for many years and nobody bothered him. But he was accused of molesting a young woman and so the police dragged him off. A few days later, two huge cranes were brought in to lift all his possessions out and it was noted that the smell was extremely putrid as they disturbed his pathetic belongings.



At J&R's apartment in Coogee, we had a little balcony off our room in the midst of a tropical garden and with the door open, we awoke each morning to the cawing of cockatoos, chattering of parakeets and the raucous racket of the kookaburras. How different from our chirping robins and cawing crows. I swear it sounded like we had monkeys in the trees too.


While we were in Sydney, J&R along with their son and daughter-in-law (P&A) closed a deal on a pair of adjoining houses sharing the same property. P&A and their three children are making Australia their home and have no plans on going back to the UK permanently. J&R will spend four or so months per year there, perhaps even longer. They all get on wonderfully and will respect each others privacy even when living in such close proximity. J&R will have the pleasure of being close to their grandchildren and their house will be looked after by P&A when they're back in the UK; P&A will enjoy a bit more freedom by having grandparents next door always willing to babysit. Reciprocity at its finest!. It doesn't look as if J&R will ever see dreary winter weather again.


Restaurant meals being so expensive here, it was a treat to look at a menu with prices more like those at home. That was only because we were at the right time for the early bird special and the entire menu was discounted 50%. J&R frequent Danny's, a little seafood place in the quiet seaside haven of La Peroussa and it's where we dined on a shady balcony our first night along with J&R's son and daughter-in-law. A great meal, superb company and the ocean below. I could live here very easily. (that is if we could afford it).


We woke up day after day to sunshine and moderate temperatures and we explored a different part of the city each day. We never tired of walking along the cliff-hugging path through beaches and around rocky promontories. Along the way, we found a few geocaches, giving R the GPS to hone us in. J was far less enthusiastic about geocaching than R. We've put her in the “what's the point?” category. We've found when we've introduced friends to geocaching, there are basically two types, they either love it (like me) or they don't understand why we geocachers bother.....there are far more in the 'What's the point?' group.


A miraculous sight – a pod of whales cruised slowly past our rocky bluff as we re-hid a geocache. They appeared to be frolicking; they blew their waterspouts, they breeched and crashed back into the surf repeating the process every 15 seconds across our sight line and around the headland. It was a thrilling encounter. I questioned some locals as to what sort of whales they were but it was only when we met up with J&R's 13 year old granddaughter, wandering along with her group of friends, who pronounced them 'humpbacks'.

Look closely and you'll see the whale fully out of the water - do you know how hard it is to get a photo of a breeched whale?

Evenings were always spent playing bridge which we love; not playing too well because it's been years since we've played. Just wish we had J&R at home in Vancouver to play with.


Australia is a brash, in-your-face but friendly society, yet it is by far more like the UK than Canada is. The schoolchildren wear uniforms to school; many of the houses are built of brick in British style; tea and beer are the drinks of choice. But it's certainly not as conservative in manner as Britain or Canada. Sydney is a youth-oriented beach society. Sports are loudly supported by everyone; rugby, cricket, Australian rules football, horse-racing, golf and of course surfing and other water sports. Melbourne is a trifle more sedate and doesn't appear to be as youthful.

We were treated to an Aussie barbecue on our last evening in Sydney – at P&A's. They threw some 'shrimp on the barbie' (or prawns, as they're really called in Oz), followed by salmon, chicken, filet of beef and accompaniments – a 'carnivore's feast. A storm rolled in midway and there was a terrific sound and light show as the thunder roared and lightning lit up the sky.


The days passed so quickly and it was time to head back to Melbourne. Qantas owns a domestic airline, Jetstar that offers cheap no frills fares, especially if you don't check luggage. We flew from Sydney to Melbourne for $80 each including all taxes and fees – great deal. They use a tiny little airport way out in the country, south west of Melbourne, towards the Great Ocean Road - Avalon Airport. But conveniently there's a shuttle bus that meets every incoming flight and it only cost $20 each to get right back to the Southern Cross station which was right across the road from our hotel. We sat in the front seats and the friendly bus driver chatted to us all the way. He told us about 'Black Saturday', which somehow we'd never heard of in Canada. It was in February, 2009 and Melbourne's temperature soared overnight to 50 degrees C and Avalon reached an unimaginable 55 degrees C. (These temperatures are purely what we were told; others have told us that they are much exaggerated) Forest fires raged and towns were obliterated; many folks died in the blazes and the extreme heat. They've now created a new fire danger rating in addition to the existing 'low' 'moderate' and 'high' – 'catastrophic' is now the highest possible warning and it has been declared for November 19 in Southern Australia which is where we're headed next. This is the first time such a warning has been made. I don't think we'll be walking around the streets of Adelaide if the heat blasts like that.

We reclaimed our large suitcases from our hotel in Melbourne, repacked them a bit, compacting all our miscellaneous odd and ends to make it easier to move over to the Dawn Princess. Our young taxi driver was an Indian who emigrated from Bombay ten years ago. He had no Indian accent left,...he was totally Australian. I asked him about Black Saturday and he likened the temperatures to a furnace and said that never in India had he experienced such heat. Other than Thailand, I think India is the hottest place in the world. I do know I've read of the extreme deadly heat waves they experience every year. The cab ride was only $23 to the port and we embarked on the next portion of our Australian adventure – Fernie's favourite part, the cruise.

I hate living out of suitcases......

They say that the best relationships are comprised of opposites. KaChing! That's us. A hidden microphone in our home would exhibit how we differ in what we look forward to on our proposed travels. You'll probably wonder how this couple ever got together.

Gerri: …....'and we'll pick up our rental car and explore the wild coastline, venture into the outback and hike the green mountains. We'll search for penguins, koalas and kangaroos. We'll find a little inn or B&B each night and frequent delis, grocery counters & local cafes for meals. We'll geocache and prowl into the back streets..............'

Fernie: …....'I'll let our room steward know that we want new wine glasses every day and to expect a daily load of laundry & dry cleaning. I'll get my tuxedo pressed for the formal dinners and we'll get our daily exercise by walking a couple of miles around the deck every morning, back to the cabin for showers and then to breakfast..................'

This is why we often combine rough & tumble land holidays followed by a cruise and also why I refer to Fernie as 'the cruise guy'. The most difficult thing for me with cruising has been to deal with the so-called relaxing days at sea. All I could think of was what we were missing on land. But my type-A days are over - I hope; we're retired now which means there's no more rushing around and I'm going to work hard at relaxing (now that's an oxymoron).

And so after much anticipation and research, it's time to venture forth.

“I hate the flying part!” I whined to my daughter and anyone else who would listen “The security lineups where I always seem to forget one little item that they don't approve of, even though I think that I've put all liquids or sharp objects into Ziploc (the new\Kleenex) bags. But on past flights, I've lost tweezers, nail clippers and creams to those officious homeland security twirps; the lugging of the always over packed luggage (hmmmmm, what came first – lug or luggage?); the never-ending hanging around airports and the long flights in cramped spaces.
“They don't do air travel the way they used to” I spouted condescendingly (when did I turn into my parents where things were always better in the old days). “I remember when we were treated royally and served delicious gourmet meals; now they throw a bag of pretzels at you and expect you to be so grateful.” So my expectations were low as we headed off to Vancouver Airport with about twenty-six hours of air travel ahead of us before we reached Melbourne, Australia. Just two flight segments – Vancouver to LA on Alaska Airlines (we have a bad history with Alaska – but that's another story) and then Qantas from LA to Melbourne. Qantas had already screwed up our seat assignments on the 15 ½ hour segment with Fernie separate from me about 30 rows back in the middle of a threesome. Many phone calls and emails did not resolve the problem. So I pushed the concern out of my mind and decided to accept 'whatever!' We stoically carried on and had the wonderful surprise that they magically altered our seats for us to be together in a back row – giving us so much extra room and nobody behind us. Then I pushed a button and as the seat back reclined, the seat itself maneuvered itself forward and up to the most amazingly comfortable position while a hammock-style footrest ensconced my aching feet in a chrysalis of comfort. 'I think I'm going to like Qantas' I thought – and they didn't let up. The meals were outstanding, and for the long overnight stretch, we were given a bag of snacks and bottled drinks along with socks, eye-shades, toothbrush and paste and other miscellaneous items. The seat back LCD screens were larger than usual and the picture was crisp and clear – all the better to watch a choice of 40 films, a multitude of TV shows, sports and travel specials, new music CD's as well as all the usual choices, a myriad of games including poker, stock quotes, etc etc etc. I watched 4 movies and listened to all the premiered musical albums as well as browsed some of the travel shows. I hardly slept a wink but the 15 ½ hours passed in no time. I paid for it later that day though with a nasty jet lag, complete with nausea and weakness and a tendency to want to cry for no reason. But I went to bed at 8:30pm and didn't get up 'til 6:30 next morning and I was all back to normal.

We lost a whole day.....somehow, November 5th was obliterated as we crossed the date line to arrive in Melbourne with a 19 hour time difference on Friday morning, November 6th.. Too bad we didn't leave on November 8th and we'd have lost the 9th my birthday) which I guess would mean I wouldn't age a year this year and Fernie who's one year my junior would have caught up to me.


It's really hard to travel frugally in Australia. The cost of living is extremely high. A budget hotel in a small town runs $100 to $120 and the price of meals just blew us away even in the humblest of cafes. We picked up a lot of fruit, snacks and sandwich ingredients at supermarkets but I almost fell over when grapes were $11 a kilogram. It's a very comfortable place to visit and until you hear the Australian accents, you'd think you were back in Vancouver. The ethnic mix is similar, as are the clothing styles and the cleanliness of the city.


However, on Saturday evening when the young all congregated in the city core and along the riverbank lined with restaurants and bars, that's when we noticed how different they were....they really dressed up; the young men in black suits and ties (in the unbearable heat) and the girls in micro-mini skirts, 5 inch spike heels and funny little hats....a curly feather and a froth of net on the sides of their heads.


A van packed full of rowdy young women in their twenties cruised by slowly with a monstrous rubber penis hanging out the window. “Come on, give it a cuddle” they called out to me when they caught me taking a photo. I sensibly turned down their offer. It was funny to watch the reactions of the young men. Unlike what I thought, they made a point not to look at it or react in any way....is it threatening to see women en masse making fun of their most precious part?



Australians don't tip! Now that's my kind of people. I hate the North American tipping habit, Americans now expecting 20%. I can almost hear some of you mumbling about how 'cheap' I am; not at all ---- I just don't think the tipping thing works. Just put up prices and pay the employees more – and I won't complain. The service in Australia is just as good as we're used to so it just shows that people generally want to do a good job. When tipping was initiated, it was by the 'elite' (wealthy); TIPS is an acronym for 'to insure prompt service' and those that were used to clicking their fingers to their servants started this flawed tradition but let's face it, it just doesn't fit with our current day society. Imagine saving up hard-earned money to go for dinner at a high end restaurant and feeling you have to pay the waiter a 15 to 20% tip when you know his take home pay is way more than yours.


The temperature in Melbourne was perfect the day we arrived, about 15 degrees in the morning and only going up to the low 20's that day. I just wish it had stayed that mild. Instead the following day, it soared into the 30's and it made traipsing around the city unbearably soppy and it continued to soar even higher into the middle 30's not sinking below 25 degrees overnight. We thought it normal but apparently not.....it's an unseasonable heat wave breaking records back to 1894. Early mornings are lovely and we made a habit of getting up and going by 6:30am. The city really looks after its tourists by operating a free tram that circles the city centre all day long. My only complaint was that it was stifling hot with all the people crammed inside, but when our feet just couldn't handle another mile, we put up with the stuffiness. Our shoe leather really took a beating as we explored the city but we found benches to rest up every so often.


Strange sounds emanated as we neared the commercial centre.'Did I hear distant strains of 'Santa Claus is Coming to Town'? No, it can't be ….. in this 35 degree heat...surely it isn't Xmas time. But, smack dab in the middle of town for a long city block at Bourke Street and Swanston, covered fences had been constructed encircling a stage and space for the thousands of kiddies who'd dragged their parents into town for the arrival of |Santa Claus. Silver tinsel rained from the sky changing to a fluffy white snow-like substance when Santa showed up and the noise was deafening. We ducked into David Jones department store to get away from the furor exiting further down the street where a huge plastic bedecked Xmas tree towered over the area. I felt as if I'd tumbled down a rabbit warren and discovered an alien civilization.

................Graffiti in the laneways of Melbourne

After a couple of days in Melbourne, we were well ready to venture out to the coast and get away from the hustle of the city. I'd arranged a rental car with Europcar who had an office just a kilometre away from our downtown hotel. Sunday morning, we stored our 'cruise luggage' at our hotel and dragged our little wheeled carry-ons down the street and across the Yarra River to the rental office. It's always an odd feeling to get into a car and ready oneself to drive on what feels like the 'wrong' side of the road especially to maneuver right turns.


It takes a couple of hours to feel relaxed and then a day later, it feels totally normal. Fernie says he just doesn't want to try it, so I've always been the one to drive in countries who drive on the other side. However, with my slowly encroaching cataracts, I really need a good co-pilot who can read the signs....because I sure can't.








We headed south-west from Melbourne to the coast and the Great Ocean Road, which I rank up there with the Big Sur coastline, the Oregon Coast, South Africa's Cape Peninsula and Italy's south western cliff-hugging drive. Absolutely magnificent mind-blowing scenes...the aquamarine and cerulean blues of ocean and sky, the vast white and golden sands, the varied shades of green on the hills and foliage and the brick red earth. Surfer-sized waves, rocks carved by the angry waters into grottoes, caves and arches and a winding road never wandering far from the edge for a couple of hundred miles. The sun scorched us as we made our way down rustic trails to the cliff-sides or beaches always on the lookout for geocaches. Spoiling this vision of utopia, were the thousands of nasty little flies that flew into our eyes and even into my mouth when I opened it to speak. They constantly bombarded us and we wondered if the locals were just used to them because none of them were dancing around waving and slapping like we were,. We stopped at a little cafe for breakfast (which was really expensive) and noticed tons of those larger nasty-looking flies all over the windows, that my mother used to call blue-bottles. - yuck!


That night we stayed in pretty little Port Campbell and found an air-conditioned motel overlooking the bay, because it was just too darned hot. The little town was full of other tourists, some if them backpackers in the local hostel and it seemed they were all my least favourite ethnicity – Germans. I hate to stereotype but other than the Germans, the Quebec French Canadians that we've encountered traveling in the south-eastern United States are always extremely rude, unfriendly and pushy. And the Germans that day in Port Campbell upheld that preconception – in the grocery store, I was jostled, I was unable to pass large groups even when loudly saying 'excuse me'. I had to resort to body-checking and just barging through and that's not part of my gentile nature.


We circled back inland through idyllic farms, ranches and wineries and took a ferry south of Melbourne across the mouth of Port Phillip Bay from Queenscliff to Sorrento. This way we didn't have to drive back through the busy traffic in the city. Our target was Phillip Island where we planned to visit the penguins and koalas. It's a peaceful and charming rural island and we found a lovely little motel, a bit cheaper than last night's at $93 - it was $120 in Port Campbell. The fairy penguins are the big draw on Phillips Island; they come back in every evening when the sun goes down after a day spent at sea hunting and gorging on fish. We were seated down front in bleachers beside the beach waiting patiently for the exodus of the little birds when some latecomers arrived escorted by a tiny middle-aged woman (their translator) – a tribe of Japanese men clothed in full business attire, suits and ties, and clasping big woolen blankets in front of them. As were almost everyone else there, we were wearing shorts (capris for me) and tshirts and even though the sun was down, it was still warm. They gestured with their right hand, much like the penguins aimed their heads towards home, where they wanted to sit and two of them sat right in front of us and two more beside and the others spread around where they could find empty seats. The nattering gentlemen who didn't seem to understand one word of English wrapped themselves up in one fuzzy blanket while sitting on another – obviously cold blooded. They aggravated me because when the English announcements were broadcast that the penguins were arriving, they continued to chatter but when their little woman got on the PA and spoke in Japanese, all were quiet. But the show was about to begin. The petite navy blue and white creatures are the tiniest penguin species and hence referred to as 'fairy penguins' and they arrive on shore in groups waiting for the rest of their gang before they venture across the beach and up the sandy corridor to their warrens where their babies await. They feel that there is safety in numbers and they can be quite skittish if they perceive any threatening movements. Their little waddling gait with heads bent forward towards their target is so adorable that even though warned, the audience couldn't help a rumbling chorus of oohs and aahs. Babies waited back in the bushes but came out to the paths when they thought their mothers were coming but the babies don't recognize their mothers and so accost other penguins who give them a nasty peck to 'get away'. Luckily, the mothers recognize their young and always eventually find them, then regurgitate their stomach contents for the babies to feed. We were warned to look under our cars before driving away because sometimes some of the little enguins wandered into the parking lot. How horrible to think we could make roadkill of these precious little birds.


The next morning dawned to be another scorching day so we headed out early to explore the rest of the island looking for geocaches on the way. There's a Koala Conservation Refuge on the island protecting the beautiful little teddy bears from their biggest danger, the traffic. The bears roam freely throughout the preserve in the eucalyptus forest surrounded by specially constructed fences and they feel no threat from the human visitors; they snooze while hugging a tree trunk only a few feet away from the raised boardwalks. An interesting fact – to me anywayz: female koalas hate the sex act and scream for the entire 20 seconds of it but they're usually impregnated and then never see the males again if they can help it. So, when you see two koalas close together in the trees, it's usually mother and baby. The south-eastern corner of Australia is so exceptionally picturesque and as we ventured north by the coastal route, we meandered through picture-book farms and wineries soaring over the thickly treed hills glimpsing the many protected bays down below. I always thought that the English countryside was so beautiful, but I think that Australia gives the Brits a run for their money...and my money's on the Ozzies. We spent the night in Bateman's Bay in a lovely little motel with a balcony overlooking the sea and we slept with the door open and the balmy breezes lulling us to sleep.




The drivers in Australia are so un-confrontational and mostly abide by the rules. The young woman who rented our car out to us told us that the police only allowed a 3km variance from the posted limits before they ticketed 'That's why so many guys in Melbourne don't have drivers' licenses' she said. And out in the country roads, there are so many 'overtaking' lanes that if someone comes up behind you and wants to get by, there'll always be another overtaking lane just ahead. Some of the roads are very narrow by north American standards and don't have shoulders and yet that are many caravans (trailers) on the roads; it must be a bit of a nightmare trying to navigate the snaky mountain lanes. A lot of the motorhomes are built on a very narrow frame but we were surprised to see American sized 5th wheels and trailers and motorhomes too. There are caravan parks everywhere and they usually also have cabins of some sort to rent. We thought we'd give them a go but found most of them were more expensive than the motels and we really didn't want the family appurtenances that were offered.


Canberra, Australia's capital is located inland between Melbourne and Sydney and when we arrived it was once again extremely hot. The Parliament building, ultra modern when it was built in 1988 and fairly stark, is the focal point of Canberra with roads spreading out like spokes on a wheel.


Too hot to mooch around outside, we hooked onto a tour of the House of Parliament but after an hour of traipsing behind the tour guide and listening to a multitude of constitutional questions, our eyes glazed over and we snuck away up to the roof for the view over the city. Eight years ago on our first visit to Australia, we intended to visit Canberra but forest fires were raging all around the city and the temperature was over 40 degrees, so we wanted to see it this visit. There's not much else to the city though, other than a half dozen museums. I didn't even get a geocache there.


We mosied on out of town and headed towards Sydney, figuring if we could find a motel within an hour of Sydney Airport, we could get the car back by 9 am and save a whole days rental. The skies had turned black and threatening as we headed north and just as we found a motel in Campbelltown, long zig-zags of lightning scored the sky and the thunder deafened us. Just as we got to our room, the skies opened up – we were just in the nick of time. An little while later, when I was about to climb into the shower, only a dribble of water seeped from the taps and we looked out front to an oozing fountain of water cascading from broken water mains …..... which didn't get repaired for several hours. I was getting worried and was just about to ask the motel staff if they'd give us a discount being waterless when it suddenly came on again.

Wifi in Australia is hard come by. Apparently broadband service is sold by GBs used and there are no monthly all-you-can-use plans. This of course means that there are no free connections to be found and pirated from -- other than MacDonalds and that was awfully slow. So I was delighted when the motel provided us with a self-installing internet stick sand I looked forward to a night of catching up on emails, banking, Facebook and publishing a blog. The software installed with ease but when I attempted to start the program, I got the message 'this program will not work on screen resolutions below 800 x 600 – 'no problem' I thought and tried to change the resolution to a size it liked. But after many changes and several reboots, it still wouldn't operate. “This must be Friday the 13th” I thought but no it was still only Thursday.