Finally, the temperatures and the humidity have come down and the weather is now perfect – about 25 degrees celsius and no sweating. About a hundred miles north of Sydney lies the coal and steel town of Newcastle but the industry didn't detract from its charms. We climbed up the hill in the centre of town to the huge Anglican Cathedral – not because we were feeling the need to pray but because there was a geocache there. An Australian couple walked up with us and so we introduced them to GCing; they were fascinated especially when in just a few minutes, we extricated the booty. Converts? No – but they're decidedly interested. We walked further up to the top of the hill for another GC and then down the other side to the rocky coast where waves were battering the cliffs, and followed the ocean around headlands, past lovely beaches and finally out the mile-long spit known as Nobby's Point and there was a GC right at the end. We were exhausted by the time we got back to the ship but were so thankful that the weather had become more moderate and allowed us to do it.
Even though we've sailed into Sydney Harbour before, we still got up early to see the early morning sun shine on the beautiful city. Even at that hour of the day, there were climbers at the top of the Sydney Harbour Bridge. They yelled and waved with glee as the huge ship squeezed under the centre of the bridge and slid around the corner to dock at Darling Harbour.
Our friends, R&J, who live part of the year in Sydney, met us in town and we spent the day with them. First stop Paddy's Market, beside Chinatown, but it's a big hodge-podge of cheap and nasty goods and we didn't stay long. We made our way down to Circular Quay, the centre of life in Sydney. That's where the Opera House resides along with restaurants galore and it's the confluence of all transportation – trains, buses and ferries.
We took a ferry ride upstream on the Paramatta River when the ticket guy quoted us $7.40 for the two hour return trip. With tired feet, the peaceful boat ride was welcomed. Arriving back at the wharf, we stuck our tickets into the exit gate and they'd 'Expired'. How was that possible when we hadn't got off the boat? We called a young attendant over and he told us that there was no such thing as a 'Return' ticket so how could they have sold us one. That made us angry and we asked to see the manager. Another young guy appeared in a few minutes to tell us “These are government ferries and we can't do anything about it”. We told him that was totally unsatisfactory and asked again for the person in charge. “He's on his way” said the first guy. Finally, someone with authority appeared and he asked us how we were enjoying Sydney. Obviously the young guy had told him we were tourists and he was trying to appease us but after a few pleasantries, he accepted the fact that they were at fault and he ushered us through.
The Dawn Princess threw off her bow lines and drew out of her berth in Darling Harbour as dusk started to fall. The setting sun glinted in the office towers and the sky took on a rosy hue. It was absolutely beautiful. There were still climbers making their way across the tippy top of the Sydney Harbour bridge silhouetted against the darkening sky and the Opera House lit so subtly peeked underneath the span. It crossed my mind that we might never be here again but not with sadness, more with a 'been there, done that' feeling.
“When will we have some choppy seas so we'll know that we're on a ship?” J and I had complained to the captain when we had lunch with him. The sea had been so calm all the way around the continent that we might as well have been in a hotel. “I'll see what I can do about it when we get to the Tasman Sea” he replied with amusement. And so, when he came across the PA when we headed away from the coast of New South Wales, he said “You can't please all people all the time but like a politician, I try and so for those who've requested stormy seas, they're about to start”. It was delightful. The wind had arisen so high that as we walked around the promenade deck hanging on to each other, the prow sent a curtain of water up and over the railings. It wasn't long before they closed off all doors to the deck as the sea heaved and rolled. Seasickness bags appeared in the public areas and it appeared as if the population of the ship had dwindled. It was the last formal night of the cruise and Fernie had gone up to the sauna and steam room while I showered and did my hair in the stateroom. He is prone to motion sickness and I think the heat of the spa and it's location on a top deck exacerbated it because as he walked in the door, he looked a bit green. He lied down for a while, then went out for a bit of fresh air, then lied down again. The seas were only moderately rough but apparently it's the type of rolling motion rather than the severity that makes one sick. So he missed dinner, the Beef Wellington, the lobster, the pheasant under glass and the baked Alaska parade ...... About six hours after the it started, the seas calmed and the storm abated as we came into the protection of the east coast of Tasmania.
Fernie rescued a little dog in Hobart
This is our second visit to Hobart, the largest city in Tasmania. Its harbour reminded us somewhat of Vancouver's with the dark waters and Mount Wellington looming behind the city. It's about as far south of the equator as Portland, Oregon is north; it's certainly not tropical and the temperature was only about 16 degrees celsius. A small city, it's full of old Victorian homes and English gardens dense with roses. It was perfect for geocaching!
Tasmania, known for its Tasmanian Devils is like what Newfoundland is to Canada. The people are Tazzies kind of like Newfies – separate & different; they want to be considered a distinct breed from mainland Australians. Their small island is lightly populated and is mostly wild and untamed country, a lot of it set aside in reserves.
We spent a day and a half in Hobart – a strange place to do so; Sydney would have been more likely but the moorage fees are probably much higher there. We went out on the second morning geocaching and R&G and J without L accompanied us. R&G each found a GC finally; thank goodness we weren't skunked.
I received an email later on that evening after I logged the geocaches that we found in Hobart, from the owners of one of the caches. They said they'd noticed us that afternoon on the waterfront with our GPS and if they'd known we were Canadians, they'd have introduced themselves. They were so pleased that we found their geocache and welcomed us to Tasmania. Hobart was also the place where I found 'the perfect man'. He was nestled in a geocache and I could hear him talking as I opened the container “Honey, you look so tired; why don't you sit down with a glass of wine while I prepare dinner” he crooned. I was in love before I saw him. He's six inches tall and utters about ten other divine expressions of loving care when you push on his tummy. Well, he had to come back to Canada with me but he's a 'GC travel bug' which means that I have to move him on to another geocache – I can't keep him....boo hoo!
Our final port – Burnie, Tasmania, on the north coast across the Bass Strait from the mainland state of Victoria, where the weather was perfect at about 20 degrees while Melbourne only 200 km north was suffering in 39 degrees. We took a public bus along with L&J out of Burnie through the rolling green countryside to Fern Glade. It was full of giant fern palms in the gully along the Emu River – a lovely lush woodland where we were on a platypus hunt. Sadly, we met no platypusses? platypussies? platypussi? (I don't have a clue what the plural is) But a wallaby scampered across the trail right in front of us and a flock of what we called Australian Roadrunners (probably guinea hens) scampered about.
And that was about it – after six weeks, we were about to leave Australia and summer to happily head back home to a proper Xmas environment. We'll probably never set foot on Australian shores again; it's a beautiful, livable country but it's lacking exotic appeal – it's too much like home; the people are too much like us – travel is meant to broaden one's horizons and Australia doesn't do that.
Here's a brief summary of the cruise in case you think I only point out the negatives. One area that I'd actually be pleased if it wasn't good is the food but my expanding girth and Fernie's too is a result of the absolutely delicious cuisine. They outdid themselves in all areas but especially with their curries and their pastas as well as all the other usual fare – from escargot to lobster and all in between. The onboard entertainment was a constantly revolving variety from magicians, comedians, jugglers Broadway singing and dance routines, to vocalists of all kinds – they did a really good job. One of the singers was so good that we couldn't figure out why she was on a ship entertaining – isn't it supposed to be for over the hill or never quite made it entertainers? The cruise director was a bit of a bore but his first assistant was a really funny young English guy who we followed with whatever audience participation entertainment he put on – whether it was a Family Feud or a Newlywed Game. He reminds me of John Krasinski of The Office fame. The cruise was a perfect way to visit so many cities and towns in Australia that we'd never get to any other way but I'm so glad we had the first two weeks of independent land travel even though it was much cheaper cruising than land traveling.
The final day of an overseas holiday is always stressful and especially when getting off a cruise where you've been pampered for 28 days. It began with a series of annoyances. All six of us were flying out on the same flight to LA at twelve noon and we planned on sharing a Maxi-cab to the airport. At the last minute, Princess and the Australian Quarantine Authority decided that all four of our friends would have to report for inspection, delaying their disembarkation. This was because they had been on the prior cruise to New Zealand and Australia is paranoid about any stray foods, seeds or grains invading their farms. There was a purse-sniffing beagle at every port not looking for drugs but food.
Fernie and I were off promptly at about 8am and the rest were supposed to be off no more than a half hour later. We figured we could arrange the maxi-cab and have it ready and waiting when they showed up. But we waited and waited and had to let three go to others. 9:15 and we were about to leave by ourselves so I left Fernie out by the taxi-stand to take a last look for them and L appeared at the top of the escalator with two huge suitcases; I could tell that he was fuming and as he got to the bottom, the luggage got caught up and he fell backwards. Luckily, he wasn't hurt and I helped extricate his bags and sent him off to hold the taxi with Fernie while I watched for the other three. He's taken the escalator because there were long lineups for the elevators and he wanted to let us know they were coming. The other three arrived about ten minutes later and we scurried along to the taxi. By now there was a mob of disembarking passengers and a long line at an empty taxi ramp but Fernie had managed to hang on to the latest maxi-cab. It was only about forty minutes to the airport at a cost of only $78 between the three couples and we were there in plenty of time.
Checking in at Qantas, we felt relaxed about the weight of our two large suitcases because we hadn't bought anything other than a few tshirts and I'd packed all heavy items including shoes in the small bags. But there was obviously a glitch with their scales because both large bags weighed 4kg over the 23kg (50lb) maximum and there was only clothes in them. They'd weighed in fine when we left Vancouver when we left. There was only one thing to do – transfer 4 kgs out of each big bag into the smaller ones; otherwise, they'd charge us $50 for each suitcase overweight. So in the middle of the floor in front of the check-in desk, we sat down on the tiles and started the process. There was little room in the small bags so we had to cram stuff in sitting on them to zipper them up. It took several tries to get the weight distributed and by then the sweat was pouring off us. The huge line of people waiting to check in were both impatient with us and also entertained by watching our clothes fly.
“Step over to the side Ma'am” said a chubby, florid-faced, middle-aged inspector after I'd been through the security xray process and was repacking my computer. “This is a random check ma'am” he muttered seriously as he handed me a laminated page of text to read.
“You Australians love to single me out” I retorted with apparent amusement while seething inside. “This is the third time I've been chosen for a random check” as he stuck his litle xray stick into my purse. His young female assistant did the body check with his little tool and the more I talked, the longer she took.
“So, do you just like my looks?” I asked cheekily to zero response. And of course, they wouldn't crack a smile. They just thrust the explanatory paper at me again and I refused to read it, having seen it so many times already. Finally, they gave me back my bag and gestured that I could leave.
The plane was going to be a half hour late leaving but “No Worries” because we had a six hour layover ahead of us in LA. The half hour delay stretched out to over an hour but we still weren't concerned It takes a while to load the huge Airbus 380 but finally we were all ready when an announcement boomed “One of our passengers has been taken ill and we have to remove him and then search for his luggage to offload”. Another half hour passed and another announcement “A second passenger has taken ill and has to leave, meaning we'll be further delayed while we extract his baggage”. I was starting to feel suspicious. It's highly unusual to have one taken ill enough to be removed but two? The first one sat three rows in front of us. He was not elderly as we expected; he was only about 30 and was pale (probably with fear) but was able to walk off. I didn't see the second one, but this sounded like suspected terrorists to me; if so, thank goodness they caught them. We finally left 2 ½ hours late and to think I'd whined about our long layover. I was thankful now as so many people on the flight missed their connections.
The flight from Melbourne to LA was almost two hours shorter on the return trip – 13 ½ hours instead of 15 ½. It had a light load of passengers so Fernie and I had three seats for two of us which was so comfy. I watched five movies – a marathon which made the flight go by in no time. It was all smooth sailing after that. LAX is always a nightmare of an airport but once we'd gone through collecting luggage and going through immigration and then checking luggage again and getting through the security, it seemed easy and quick on the final lap home where Tracey and Cairo were waiting for us.
Xmas lights draped around windows and hanging from eaves twinkled and reflected in the puddles as we drove home; It's Beginning to Feel a Lot Like Christmas!
