Category: 2026

We took a steady drive up the coast of New South Wales. It was relaxed and easy. We drove for a few hours each day, found a campsite and then went for a short wander around. Usually on a beach.

The day we left John and Sally in Sydney, we drove up the main road, got bored and followed a small road that ran close to the shore. We had hoped for a sea view but unfortunately the ocean, although close, was completely invisible behind a large wall of bushes. We did, however, find a ferry. This was quite exciting – we enjoy a ferry. This particular one was another small, cable ferry that took us from the wonderfully named Mungo Brush to Bombah Point. Shortly after this we arrived at the Sandbar Beach Campsite. This was indeed situated on a sandbar and appeared to be exclusively populated by surfers in VW camper vans. We tried to fit in as best we could. A kookaburra, sitting on an old gum tree, laughed at us.

In the evening, we strolled down to the beach and watched the surf for a while. We also spotted a Sea Eagle. I initially thought it was a White-tailed Sea Eagle and was wondering about its connection with the birds we had seen in the Norwegian Fjords and off Scotland. It was however a White-bellied Sea Eagle which is smaller, has a white belly and is native to Australia. Occasionally, I think I am becoming a birder, but I am not. Fortunately, I have Google to help. Back at the campsite we lit a campfire to demonstrate to the surfer dudes what cool hipsters we were.

Next day, smelling faintly of woodsmoke, we continued our odyssey northwards. After several more failed attempts at finding an interesting coast road we ended up at Port Macquarie. Here we used another little ferry to cross the Hastings River and continue north close to the ocean. The road became a dirt track and we were forced to turn back. We could manage a few easy tracks in the van (although we were not supposed to) but this was looking like AWD territory. Instead, we followed a larger, sealed road that was a bit of a long way around. This road had roadworks. A lot of roadworks. Roadworks with diversions along dirt tracks and over rough, slow surfaces. We might have been as well with the original dirt track.

By the evening, we arrived at another campsite just off the beach. Our evening was a pleasant walk down to some rocks and back.

In the morning, we attempted to drive inland. Perhaps we could approach Brisbane through some hills to the south rather than along the busy coast. Our road turned into a single-track road and then a dirt track. I was thinking, next time, we will hire a 4×4. The question now, was how far do we try and get along the track before we capitulate to our lack of traction. We were crossing a small range of hills. If it rained now, I suspect the van’s basic road tyres would just start spinning in the mud. Over the hill and down into a valley where we rejoined a tarmac road.

With that problem solved, we had to deal with the next one. We were fast running out of fuel. This is not like me. I usually make sure we refill as soon as the tank is half empty. The previous day we had driven a long diversion and today we had not seen any signs of habitation before plunging off into the hills. Now we were on less than quarter of a tank and out in the middle of nowhere. The landscape was lovely. Rolling hills, green forests, fields ready to be grazed but no people. Just the occasional farmhouse. We pressed on and arrived at a small village. After a little poking around we found a small, unmanned diesel pump that. 24-hour automated service. I confidently tackled it with my favourite debit card and failed. “Service unavailable”. What does that mean? I tried several more times and was forced to admit defeat.

From Google maps, the next village looked larger and was only a couple of score kilometres away. We set off. Two kilometres later, we came across a sign saying the road was closed further ahead. There were also some details about times and dates. Some cars drove past us. Maybe we could get far enough to find fuel. Twenty minutes later, we were looking at a road blocked by cones with some diggers working just beyond. A very friendly workman came over and explained to us that the road really was closed. The friendliness of Austrians continues to impress me. Elsewhere the workmen would be more likely to ignore you or, just possibly, give you a pitying glance while shaking their head.

Back at the very small, very old and very battered looking diesel pump, I tried and failed again. In a fit of desperation, I tried my Amex card and much to my surprise, it worked. I only have an Amex card because, by using it, I can maintain a reasonable credit score. If your credit score is low, as mine was, it can cause problems with all sorts of things where your financial reliability is important – such as hiring a car. I rarely use it because many places don’t accept it. Nonetheless, here we were, in a completely obscure place and it was saving us. “Always carry at least two different types of card” might be good travel advice.

Now that we were back on the road, I didn’t want to risk the dirt track over the hills again. We could not continue inland because of the roadworks. The only remaining direction was south-east, back to the coast and to just about where we had set off from in the morning. We chose a different campsite and had a short walk to look at some fruit bats hanging in trees.

Our penultimate day in the motorhome saw us following the main road north but with distractions. There are signposted “Tourist Routes” that loop off from the M1 and take you on the path more scenic. This is a promising idea and we followed several such loops. We found some small, interesting roads. We passed some lakes, followed a river and drove through some pleasant countryside. We also got lost a couple of times. Occasionally we would arrive at a junction where there were no signs for the tourist route. I needed to guess so I just went off down the road that looked most interesting. This is possibly not the best algorithm. Eventually we were parked up at a campsite by the beach, again. We took an evening stroll to look at the waves. Saw a few surfers and a few fishermen and enjoyed our last evening camping for a while.

Tomorrow we would arrive in Brisbane.

Sydney, population ~6m, is the capital of New South Wales. The largest and most expensive city in Australia. Here you can find Botany Bay. Historically famous for Captain Cook’s first landing and later for the establishment of a penal colony. Also, the Sydney Harbour Bridge, famous for being extremely big. And the Sydney Opera House, famous for looking a bit weird.

We arrived late afternoon and met up with our friends the lovely Sally and John. We first met this adventurous couple in Antarctica where they were some of the brave few people doing kayaking trips while the rest of us were safe in the Zodiac RHIBs. They graciously invited us to stay a few days and we were happy to escape the cosy confines of our little motorhome for a short break.

Our original plan had been to skip past Sydney. Tackling a large city without prior knowledge can be a bit daunting. We figured that we could drive over the bridge, photograph the opera       and be done with it. John and Sally, long term Sydney residents, were dismissive of this notion and suggested a day trip to the city under Sally’s guidance would be more appropriate. They were, of course, completely correct. The next day, we set off, on foot, for the train station.

It was a leisurely ride into town on the train. The first thing I noticed on alighting was a car that had been smashed by a boulder. Apparently, the large rock was dropped intentionally, from a tall crane, some 22 years ago. I could see no go reason for this so I assumed, correctly, that it was art.

We wandered around the city centre for a while taking in some of the architecture and getting a feel for the place. The Sydney Central Business District (CBD) has more high-rise buildings that anywhere else in Australia. I was certainly impressed as to how much glass was on display.

We were struck by how clean the city was. Australia in general is an exceptionally clean place. Hardly any rubbish lying around. A stark contrast from many other countries and wonderful to see. Often a major city attracts litter and other garbage along with beggars and buildings in a state of disrepair. Sydney however feels cared for and that makes visiting comfortable and more enjoyable.

We boarded a local ferry to Manly. This took us right across the bay. A lovely, relaxed way to take in sights of the city. From the boat we could see all the major landmarks, large cruise ship, several other ferries, a few islands and open water beyond the bay. In Manly, we took a short walk to the beach and watched apprentice surfers for a while. Over coffee, Sally explained how she met John here. Then we wandered back to the ferry terminal and got a boat to the opera house. Along the way, I spotted an Australian Navy aircraft carrier.

The Sydney Harbour Bridge is right next to the opera house. We could clearly see bridge walkers. People who have paid to put on harnesses and walk right over the top of the steel bridge arch. I image the views are great but it is quite a trip and takes over three hours.

We looked around the opera house. I was a little surprised to find that the roof looks quite different from close by. To be honest, I had never studied the roof before but I always had an impression of it being big and white. While it is certainly big, the tiles are off-white and quite intricately patterned. The remarkable design was from a Danish architect, Jørn Utzon. While he undoubtably came up with one of the most striking buildings in the world, the story of how it was built by 1973 is fascinating and not without problems. Ultimately, the project came in at ten years late and 1,400% over budget.

The Sydney Opera House opened the way for the immensely complex geometries of some modern architecture. The design was one of the first examples of the use of computer-aided design to design complex shapes. The design of the roof was tested on scale models in wind tunnels to establish the pressure distribution around the roof shape in high winds. The design is also one of the first in the world to use araldite to glue precast structural elements together. The air-conditioning plant, the largest in Australia at the time, uses the innovative idea of harnessing the harbour water to create a water-cooled heat pump system that is still in operation today.

There are a set of steps from the opera house down into the harbour. These are closed off by some steel railings but you will often see crowds of tourists packed around them. The reason is a wild long-nosed fur seal that often rests on the steps and has become quite famous. He is called Benny as in “Benny on the steps” – a pun on the title of an Elton John song and a fine example of Australian humour.

We did not get to see inside the opera house but I think, should we ever be back this way, that it would be great to attend a performance there.

We wandered off around the botanical gardens. The garden is quite remarkable. All the more so for being in a city centre. The weather had been steadily improving throughout the day. Earlier it was quite blustery and raining occasionally. As we pottered around the plants, the sun came out making it pleasantly warm.

In an older part of the city, we came across some older architecture housing the very expensive shops. We also found a statue of Queen Victoria looking thoroughly unamused.

Next day, we all drove out to Lake Macquarie. John and Sally have a very comfortable holiday home here. It makes a beautiful contrast to Sydney. Quiet, natural and peaceful. Lake Macquarie is not really a lake. It is Australia’s largest permanent saltwater coastal lagoon, located in the Hunter Region about 150 km north of Sydney. We spent most of the day walking around the lake.

The lake is popular for sailing, powerboating, water skiing, fishing and swimming. Fortunately, this does not seem to disturb the wildlife too much and there was an abundance of birds. We walked out to a spit of land where there was an Osprey nest. On the way we saw a black swan and some pelicans. There was also a few Noisy Miner Birds, a native Australian honeyeater. And a few small Little Pied Cormorants. The osprey nest appeared empty, initially. We waited a while and then saw a couple of small heads looking out. Then we spotted the parents. Possibly coming back from a fishing trip. All was well.

Elsewhere around the lake, we saw the inevitable Laughing Kookaburras, some Egrets and many Magpie Larks. There was also a few groups of Rainbow Lorikeet. These are the most fantastically brightly coloured parrots.

The Hunter valley is not just home to some remarkable countryside but it is also the location of many great vineyards. It would have been churlish to leave without exploring a few of these so this is what occupied us on our last day. Unfortunately, the weather came in cool  and rainy again. Nonetheless, we dressed warmly – “rugged up” is the Australian expression. Has nothing to do with rugs. And we had a wonderful, relaxed time exploring the countryside and drinking wine. Two of my favourite things to do.

From Melbourne, we decided to head up into the mountains for a few days. We had heard mention of snowy mountains and ski areas. Might be worth a look. We set off in a vaguely north-east direction. First point of interest was the Powers Lookout. A rocky escarpment high above the King Valley. The hideout of Harry Power, a notorious, gentleman bushranger of the 1860s who reputedly befriended a young Ned Kelly before leading him into a life of crime. Power hid up here for 8 years but was eventually caught. For all the bandit history, the views were terrific.

Next day, we arrived in Harrietville and discovered a barrier across the road. We needed snow chains to go any further. There was no snow. The weather was warm and sunny. Barely a cloud in the sky but nonetheless we needed snow chains. The helpful woman at the barrier directed us to a shop to hire chains for the day. I asked if she got a kickback from the chain shop but she just smiled at me. At the shop they were happy to provide chains. They did not bother to show us how to fit them because we were not going to use them. In fact, we would drop them off at their sister shop in Omeo in about two hours. Back at the barrier, we got waved through and off we went up the mountain.

The drive up to Hothem Heights was uneventful. We eventually found some snow on the hillside but not very much off it. Hothem is a ski resort that is upside down. The resort is at the top of the hill and the slopes all go down from it. We spotted one working chair lift and many that were clearly closed because of lack of snow on the pistes. This should be about the snowiest time of the year but it is not working out very well.

On the way down, we saw a wombat. We had noticed several dead wombats by the roadside but this one was alive. I stopped the van and was lucky enough to get a couple of pictures before it wandered off into the undergrowth. Wombats are nocturnal, so I was particularly fortunate to see one at all. The presence of wombats can be verified by their distinctive square faeces. They are the only animal in the world that deposits curiously cubical crap. Their primary defence is their toughened rear hide. Most of the posterior is made of cartilage. It has no tail. When attacked, wombats dive into a tunnel, using their rumps to block a pursuing attacker. Urban legend has it that wombats sometimes allow an intruder to force its head over the wombat’s back so that it can use its powerful legs to crush the skull of the predator against the roof of the tunnel. A group of wombats is called a wisdom.

It was getting late in the afternoon. We pulled into the only campsite for miles around and were appalled to be charged three times the normal amount to stay overnight. The woman explained that this was peak season although the mostly deserted campsite appeared to contradict this. In the evening, we walked down to the river and saw a platypus swimming around. This was at least some compensation for the exorbitant campsite fees. We watched it for a good hour. Swimming about in an area of slack water. Diving every few minutes to eat weed. Unfortunately, we never got a really unobstructed view of the platypus but we had at least seen one.

Next day, we headed north again, towards the mountains again. This time we were completely thwarted by the snow chain restrictions. Every road appeared to require that we had chains. The was still no snow on the road. Or any of the surrounding hills. There was no obvious place to hire chains so although the restriction was not enforced by barriers, we chose to adhere to the rules. The consequences in terms of insurance and the van rental agreement were dire if anything bad happened. We ended up going through the Namadgi National Park. The road was a bit rough in places but it was a lovely drive. To avoid Canberra, we made a sharp righthand turn and set off for the coast.

The next day, while driving north towards Jarvis Bay, we saw a sign for the Jerrawangala Lookout. It was approaching lunchtime, so we set off in the hope of finding somewhere nice to stop. The sign did not actually state how far it was to the lookout. The road became very narrow with many potholes. It turned steeply up a hillside and became more of a dirt track. The track twisted and wriggled its way up onto an exposed ridge and then became a very narrow path between trees. Eventually, we arrived at a small car park with picnic tables. A thin path and walkway took us to the lookout. It was spectacular and worth the half-hour drive up the hill.

In the evening we camped on the south side of Jarvis Bay. It was a pleasant, warm evening. At the far side of the bay we could see a lighthouse built on top of some magnificent cliffs basking in the evening sun. This looked like a good place to visit. We could even spend some time on top of the cliffs looking for whales. At this time of year, whales are travelling north from Antarctica to the breeding areas in warmer seas. Next day, we headed in the general direction of the cliffs. We found a signpost for the Point Perpendicular Lighthouse and then we arrived at a military checkpoint for a weapons range. This was a bit unexpected but we talked to guard anyhow. I was anticipating that we would be turned around however, we were allowed past. We needed to leave our details and promise to stay on the track. A few kilometres further on, we arrived at the lighthouse. This is a lovely building that was an active lighthouse for a hundred years. In 1993 it was retired in favour of a modern, unmanned light, on a metal framework. We met some climbers. They were abseiling off the top of the cliffs and then climbing back up again. They reported seeing whales close to the cliffs an hour earlier. We spent some time wandering around the cliff tops and staring out to sea but saw nothing.

Further north, we stopped for the night and walked up to a whale watching platform. This was a nicely built circular platform on the hillside. Unfortunately, the trees had grown and it was almost impossible to spot the ocean beyond them.

The day before arriving in Sydney, we followed some spectacular coast roads including the Sea Cliff Bridge. This juts out from the cliff so that you are driving directly above the waves. Many people were parked around here to take photographs. The road then climbed steeply up to the Royal National Park and directly beyond that, was Sydney.

We were driving along the south coast of Australia. The weather was not too great and it rained a lot. We were taking our time and investigating interesting places as we went along. Just past Robe, we came across a path to a bird watching platform. As we parked up, we spotted some sort of Kite. This was looking hopeful. A twenty-minute walk brought us to the platform in the middle of a swamp. The rain had become a steady drizzle. A black swan met us. It looked a bit soggy. Drizzle in a swamp will do this to you. The swan is the national symbol of Western Australia. This one seemed unimpressed at being so famous and drifted off into the reeds.

Further down the road we came across a sign to a seal colony. The drizzle had eased and was more of a strong mist. We followed an interesting path with view across a large bay. This brought us, eventually, to a small boat house where seals were playing. Mostly just juvenile seals and very engrossed in their play. It was amazing to watch and very uplifting to see what an enjoyable time they were having. Just offshore a bunch of seals appeared to be having a jumping competition. Flinging themselves out of the water and high into the air. Often launching themselves clear of the sea. Closer to us, on a small partially collapsed jetty was another game. The seals were fighting over prime spot on the jetty. Taking turns to knock each other off. Then posing, momentarily, before being pushed off by another aspirant. We left smiling. It was truly amazing to observe such an expression of the joy of life.

We were heading to Melbourne but still had plenty of time so we took a diversion. We drove due north up to a mountain range in the Grampians National Park. It was interesting to see some hills and made a change from staring out at the sea for hours. Diane love seascapes and would always choose the coast road. I prefer mountains and really don’t understand why people get so misty eyed about a few waves. In this instance we might have been as well staying near the beach. Mist covered the mountains with a solid grey blanket. The road climbed up and down but we could not really see the hills. It was more that we just got a sense they were there.

After a bit of aimless wandering, we arrived at Halls Gap and suddenly found ourselves surrounded by tourists. Since leaving Kangaroo Island we had seen very few people. The campsites had mostly been empty. Halls Gap is a popular area and today was the first day of the school holidays. Suddenly, we were on a packed campsite. Typical of a British bank holiday, the rain was more enthusiastic than ever. The campsite was partially flooded and much of the grassy areas were reduced to mud. Children were running around everywhere. Muddy, wet, excited children. I could imagine how pleased their parents would be when they arrived back at the small family tent all smiling and filthy.

Next day we headed back to the coast. Dropping out of the hills we finally left the mist and the worst of the rain behind us and arrived at the start of the Great Ocean Road. This is actually a war memorial. Built by returned soldiers between 1919 and 1932, it is dedicated to soldiers killed during World War I. It is the world’s largest, or at least, longest, war memorial and a massive tourist attraction. Much of the road hugs the coastline along the Surf Coast and the Shipwreck Coast. It provides extensive views over Bass Strait and the Southern Ocean.

Right from the start, the Great Ocean Road was one of the world’s most scenic drives. Especially if you like staring, misty eyed, at waves. It was also particularly challenging. In places, just a rough, single lane track cut precipitously into the cliff face. These days, it is an easy and safe drive unless you get too engaged with the view and forget to look where you are going.

We visited a petrified forest. I was intrigued. How does a tree turn to stone? It is possible although exceedingly rare. The organic tree cells get replaced by stone via a mineralisation process. This is not what we found. What we were looking at were some rock formations that looked a little as if they had been trees once. In reality, they were created by limestone dissolving in rainwater and filtering through a porous rock layer underneath. A little like the formation of stalagmites. The tree shapes are then exposed by erosion.

Further along the coast we came across London Bridge and the Twelve Apostles. These are all stacks. Towers of rock sticking out of the sea. The remains of coastal erosion. The coast here is steep, sandstone cliffs. Very rugged and pretty. The Twelve Apostles, in particular, are a bit of a tourist draw. We very nearly stopped but then saw the car park, the coaches and the crowds. Driving just a little way further we could follow a small track to the cliff edge. Here we got a fantastic view of the cliffs and had the place to ourselves.

Leaving Kangaroo Island behind us, we set off for Melbourne. There was plenty of time. We wanted to explore a little of Australia on the way.

First, we needed to do a long loop inland around Lake Alexandria. This was pleasant, uneventful driving. Quiet roads through rolling hills and woodlands. Coming back to the coast, the land became a lot flatter. We walked on the beach and watched some sea birds. We also spotted some cormorants and honeyeater on a fence.

The next couple of days were quiet. Not many people around. Not much happening. Quiet days and quiet evenings. The sea and the birds always ensured there was something to look at. We camped by a lake and got visited by Purple Swamphens. Funny looking birds with the most enormous feet. No doubt these are handy for walking across floating swamp plants. I found myself watching them carefully to see how they avoided tripping over their own toes. This was more interesting that it sounds.

Pelicans provided the interest for one particularly good sunset. This was another camp by a lake where we spent the evening watching Pelicans silhouetted by a fantastic red and orange backdrop.  There seemed to be a lot of Pelicans around. Next day, we found even more pelicans. At lunch, we stopped at a delightful place overlooking an inland lake. I took a short walk around and stumbled across the biggest flock of pelicans I have ever seen. A hundred or more all tightly rafted together in the centre of the lake. As best I could tell they were feeding. Possibly they had just stumbled on a large school of fish. It was all over in a few minutes. They split up and flew off in different directions.

That evening, we arrived in Kingston, home of Larry the Lobster. Now we knew that we were really getting to see the sights of Australia.

We stayed a few days in an apartment in Adelaide before collecting our motorhome. A Mercedes Sprinter conversion that made the cabin on the Ghan feel spacious. It is, however, well suited to our purposes. The van is little bigger than some cars. This type of vehicles often find use as delivery vans. I have become a white van man. We can tackle cities, use ordinary car parks and generally get around quite easily. If we do not feel like sleeping in the motorhome we can easily park up at a motel or similar. It offers a lot of advantages even if you do not sleep in it every night. For a start, you always have a backup. If you cannot find somewhere to stay then you can sleep in the van. Means you can be a bit more adventurous in exploring because you do not need to ensure finding accommodation for every night. You also have somewhere to cook or make a brew wherever you go. And you have a toilet and shower in case of emergencies. The bed can be perfect for a mid-afternoon power-nap if you start feeling sleepy.

We headed north to the Barossa Valley, a famous wine making area. It rained. It rained as we drove there and it rained when we arrived. It rained all day so the next day, when it was still raining, we pushed off and headed further north.

Ended up in a curious one-horse town called Morgan on the Murray River. One general store, a campsite, a few houses, two bars and a paddle steamer. There was also a ferry across the river. We had passed from the lush, temperate grasslands of Barossa into a much wilder, semi-desert area in just a couple of hours. The change was quite remarkable. Lovely place to spend a day. The 1907 paddle steamer, called Canally, had been dug out of the mud in 1998 and restored by a group of local enthusiasts. They were clearly enormously proud of it and quite justifiably. We took the ferry and explored a nature reserve on the other side of the river.

Back to Barossa, where it was still raining. We spent a night there, visited a vineyard and then headed for Kangaroo Island. We hopped onto the massively over-priced ferry first thing in the morning.

First thing that struck us about Kangaroo Island was how many dead kangaroos there were. Dozens of them. Roadkill. Incredibly sad to see so many carcasses scattered along the roadside. Dead Kangaroo Island would probably not go so well with the tourist board.
We stopped to climb a series of metal steps up Prospect Hill. It was a good climb but well worth the effort for the view. On the way down, I spotted our first live kangaroo of Kangaroo Island way off in the distance, hopping across a field. It occurred to me that kangaroos might be presented as proof for the non-existence of God. The reasoning would involve something about God’s creatures and the necessity for intelligent design. However, something as ridiculous as a kangaroo that bounces as a means of locomotion, defies any notion of intelligent design and could only come about through a totally random phenomenon like evolution.

We spotted a sign for a seal colony. Following this, we came to a car park where we could pay to go and visit the seals. We bought tickets because we quite like seals. I spotted a lovely blue Superb Fairywren hopping around. The weather was cool and sunny. There were very few people about. Ideal seal visiting conditions. A series of wooden walkways brought us down to the beach. There were a few juvenile seals here. Most of the adults were off on extended fishing trips. The disaffected youths had been left behind and were larking around in the surf. It was a pleasant way to spend an hour.

On the road back we saw an echidna. This was particularly exciting. We had only seen them in zoos before. Funny little creatures, sometimes called Spiny Anteaters, that snuffle around in the leaf litter eating ants and termites. This one appeared unconcerned by us and I managed to grab a couple of photographs before it slunk off into the undergrowth. Echidnas are monotremes. Mammals that lay eggs. Male echidnas have a four headed penis. It is 7 cm long and covered in penile spines. In the mating season, a single female may be followed by a “train” of up to ten males. Youngest at the end of the line. Later, when the egg hatches, the baby echidna, a puggle, remains in its mother’s pouch for 50 days feeding from the pores of two milk patches. The mother builds a nursery burrow once the puggle starts to develop spines. Here the puggle lives, being fed every few days, for seven months until weaned. Random evolution for the win.

Late afternoon, we rolled up at a campsite at the far side of the island. This proved to be a bit of a wildlife hotspot. Kangaroos and Cape Barren Geese roamed the camping area. Koalas watched us from the trees and many types of small bird skipped between the bushes. We stayed here a couple of nights. This gave me plenty of time to wander around and attempt to photograph the wildlife.

Koalas are another fascinating and strange example of Aussie wildlife. They spend a lot of time up a gum tree doing nothing. From a distance, they often appear like a beach ball in a furry sack stuck in the tree branches. I have yet to see one move more than just the gentle stretch of an arm. They sleep, very contentedly, in a tree. If I tried this then I am pretty sure I would doze off and fall out. They must have special types of muscles that they can lock off.

Next day was a bit rainy, windy and occasionally, stormy. We continued our exploration of Kangaroo Island. It is all very well organized for touristing. Drive a while, spot a brown sign, pull into the car park, follow the boardwalks. This technique brought us to a wide variety of viewpoints, strange looking rocks, light houses, caves and a large grain silo with a kangaroo painted on it.
In the evening, we camped close to the ferry terminal. Fairy penguins come ashore here. We went out just after nightfall for a look round but failed to spot any.

The train noises lulled me to sleep as the movement of the carriage gently rocked the bed. Unfortunately, the motion had the opposite effect on my Princess. Despite ear plugs and a glass of port, she barely got a wink. It would have suited both of us if the train did not move at night. Although I find sleeping on a moving train fun, I would have preferred to have seen the country that we were travelling through. For me, one of the joys of train travel is that it joins places up in my mind. An aircraft trip is completely dislocating. A jolt. Travelling overland you can see the gradual changes in vegetation, the terrain, even the weather. You can experience how far it is from one place to another. You feel the journey and you comprehend how distant locations relate to each other. I mentioned this to Diane but I suspect there was a royal hating for my cheerfulness after a good night’s sleep.

Breakfast was particularly good. A Moroccan dish involving eggs baked in a rich and spicy tomato sauce served with toasted flatbread. Diane opted for a poached egg and was rather disgruntled with the soggy thing on white toast that arrived. Princess is very particular about her eggs. She likes them extraordinarily well done. Cooked to death, would be a fair description. Any part of the egg that has not solidified she refers to as slime. Between the slimy egg and the lack of sleep it seemed best for me to not talk at all. I watched the scrubby bushes go past outside while Diane concentrated on her cup of tea. Fortunately, the long silence was terminated by our arrival at the wonderfully named Coober Pedy. This is an opal mining town in the middle of nowhere and definitely an interesting place. For a start, its primary inhabitants are troglodytes.  

Before getting into town, we were coached out to an area called “The Breakaways”. The first thing that struck me about this rather desolate area was, Wow, this looks like the Badlands from Mad Max. Turns out these genuinely are the Badlands. Mad Max was filmed here and the locals are very proud of the fact. One of the proud local guides took us on a short walk around. He showed us some of the flora and the explained the desert scenery with its mesas and buttes. An hour or so later we got back to the coaches where cold champagne was being served. This improved the mood of my Princess no end.  

On the way into Coober Pedy we spotted a black snake crossing the road. Not sure what type it was but I liked to think it was deadly. Google thinks it may be a red-bellied black snake. Not very deadly but could still spoil your day. We also passed many, many areas of dirt mounds a few metres high. These were mine shafts. Narrow and not very deep. Drilled to test for opals. Most of them were abandoned. There were hundreds of these. Possibly thousands. Almost no cultivation, no fields, no vegetation. But, in every direction, as far as you could see, mine shafts.

We arrived in town and the coach turned off the road and into a trench. A big, deep trench. Three times the height of the coach. We disembarked at the bottom and stepped through a metal doorway into a mine. A long slope brought us down into the belly of the beast where we found tables laid for lunch. We were in a deep old mine that had been taken over by the Ghan company. Here they had built, in the complex of tunnels, a large restaurant and a sort of demonstration mine.

First came lunch. Diane and I got salad and falafel. We always get salad and falafel. It is quite tasty, don’t complain. There was plenty of wine. Everyone else got served slabs of black, strangely smelling meat. I imagined that this was some weird alien creature that had been hunted down in the Badlands by bald headed warriors wielding streel spears and riding customised dune buggies. It was served with potatoes and carrots.

After lunch, we went mining. Not real mining, obviously, although we were in a genuine mine so there was a level of authenticity. We looked at some tunnels, hammered lumps of dirt from the wall and checked for opals using a UV light. I found a display of explosives but was not allowed to use them. Eventually, having mined long enough to be quite sure that it was not the life for us, we went off to look at some houses. The first miners discovered that, deep in the mines, the temperature remained blissfully cool. Outside it can hit 40°C on a regular basis. Underground, a nice 20°C or so. No air-conditioning required. So, they dug a mine and lived in it and carried on mining. Eventually, they would have a spacious, comfortable house insulated from the climate above. Perfectly dark for sleeping at night and no chance of being disturbed by noise from your neighbours (unless they were letting off explosives). In the morning, after breakfast, you would go to work by simply walking down the stairs from your living room.

This troglodytic existence continues to this day. Most people live underground. Coober Pedy, on the surface, looks a little like a deserted quarry. If it were not for what appears to be a deserted spaceship, there would no evidence of people at all.

Back at the Ghan, we were greeted with snacks and more drinks. This made for a very pleasant interlude before finally boarding the train for the last leg. Tomorrow morning we would arrive in Adelaide after travelling through the night again.

The Ghan, 28 carriages long.

Last thing to do at Uluru was to watch the sunrise. Diane had another lie-in while I fussed around in the dark trying to avoid making too much noise. There were few people on the coach. Sunrise at Uluru was losing out to a lazy morning and a relaxed breakfast. Still, we few were resolved. Uluru has a reputation for being photogenic in the early morning.

We drove out to the sunrise viewing area. I kid you not, there is a place dedicated to watching the sunrise at Ulura. A series of wooden walkways arranged at strategically different hights on top of a small mound. People from many other groups were already there. By the time the sun poked above the horizon, I think there were a good hundred sightseers.

We all held our breath and then nothing happened. It really was a big disappointment. I am not sure what I was expecting but there should at least have been a few colours. Something to give a sense of drama, meaning and purpose to such an early morning. Perhaps, some days, the scene is glorious and Uluru glows resplendently in the first touches of the morning light. The sun is a fiercely burning massive fusion reaction 1.3 million times larger than the earth but today it was looking timorous and unassuming. The sky got lighter. Sunlight reached the rock. It was really nothing special at all. The small crowd dissipated as everyone headed off for breakfast.

Diane was up by the time I got back. We had a pleasant breakfast, packed and then joined the bus for the trip back to Alice Springs.

A few hours driving got us to a service station for lunch. After falafel and salad, we wandered out the back to see the emus. In many ways this was the highlight of the day. There were a dozen or so birds running around in a large paddock. Emus always seem a bit comical to me. They generally look a bit scruffy, have the most ludicrous expressions and gaze at you with large, staring eyes. This particular group of birds included an amorous couple who gave us a demonstration of how to make little emus.

Mid-afternoon we were back at the Alice Springs train station. Here we checked-in and were allocated a cabin for the rest of the journey to Adelaide. Formalities concluded, bags sorted and  cabin located, we joined a coach to be taken for our evening meal. Tonight was another outdoor session, this time at the original Alice Springs telegram station. A historic location where the first bush telegram in central Australia was set up. Everything else came later. The town, the cattle stations, the road, the railway and everything else followed afterwards. The station was built next to a freshwater spring. Later in the year, the spring dried up and was revealed to actually be a seasonal river. None the less, the name, Alice Springs, stuck. Today, the buildings are a small museum which we explored before food was served.

We enjoyed the food as darkness fell. Wine was plentiful and a band helped to liven up the proceedings. It was not late when we were taken back to the train. This suited me well because I had been up since before sunrise. Back in our little cabin, the bunk beds had been set up. I dozed off just after the train started moving. The clacking of the wheels and motion of the carriage lulled me to sleep.

Today we finally got to grips with Uluru. We had been steadily getting closer over the last few days. Now we were totally up close and personal. The road from the Ayres Rock Resort to Uluru is a half hour drive. Along the way are some splendid views but you are not allowed to stop. I think every viewpoint for the great monolith is carefully planned. There are places to watch the sunrise, the sunset, to see the fields of lights and the drones and all the rest of it. Each of them carefully arranged to give a clear view of Uluru in the background. So possibly there is no stopping on the approach roads to avoid congestion or maybe it is to ensure that vehicles do not spoil the view from the official outlooks. If every picture you have seen of Uluru looks as if it was taken from the same place, they probably were.

The first and most obvious observation from getting close to Uluru is of it being a properly big old rock. There is not crack or a fault, a seam or an intrusion or anything to divide the great mass of solid sandstone. From a distance it looks homogenous and smooth. Closer up, a chiaroscuro pattern emerges. After a few thousands of years, the rock develops a dark patina. It blackens under the effects of a sun. But the surface is flaky. Water gets in under the porous surface and causes small slabs of rock to ablate revealing fresh, bright, unscorched rock. The process creates a pockmarked tessellation of light and dark patches that covers much of the surface of the rock. There are a few cracks but they are small. In places the wind and rain have conspired to carve small depressions and holes. During the wet season enormous amounts of water flow off the top of Uluru. This has created many shallow valleys and pools.

We were shown to a couple of these pools. They are of deep cultural significance and there are signs prohibiting photography. We also got shown some rock art and a place where youngsters were taught bushcraft. In the far north-west of Uluru is the place where, back in the day, you could climb to the top of the rock. Only about 30% of the rock protrudes above the ground. Even so, it rises to 348 m. The route is quite steep, some sections up to forty-five degrees. There were chains that you could hang on to. Even so, the route could be quite dangerous. At least 37 people have died on the climb. Some from falling, others from heart attack or the effects of heat and dehydration. Today all climbing is banned. This is on the request of the local Anangu people, the traditional owners of the land. The very last day of climbing was the 26^th October 1991 when hundreds of people flocked to the rock before the cut-off time of 4pm. On the following day, the local hotel closed because they realised, correctly, that if the rock could not be climbed then many potential visitors, particularly from East Asia, would no longer be interested in visiting.   

After that, we were essentially left to our own devices. A group of about a dozen of us decided that we should try and walk all the way around the rock. This was fun and gave us a sense of completion. It is not a particularly long walk. Just over 10 km and we had done a chunk of it already. The sky was clear and blue. The sun was warm but not especially hot. Almost perfect conditions for an afternoon stroll. Quite a few other people were walking around the rock. There was not a lot more to see. Possibly the highlight was a boulder that looked like a labrador’s head when seen from a certain angle.

Back to the hotel for a quick shower and then the evening’s entertainment was another outside meal. This time we got to sit at proper tables. The food was served buffet style and was not too exciting unless you are a fan of kangaroo and crocodile meat. There was however a guy playing a digeridoo when we arrived. This was fascinating and sounded terrific. The didgeridoo is an ancient wind instrument developed by the Aboriginal peoples a thousand or more years ago. Traditional instruments are crafted from eucalyptus trees naturally hollowed out by termites and are often decorated with intricate, hand-painted Aboriginal art. The sound is created by buzzing the lips, similar to playing a tuba or trombone. The instrument acts as both a bass and a time-keeping rhythm. Circular breathing allows players to sustain this sound indefinitely. This is an almost impossible sounding technique where you inhale through your nose while simultaneously expelling air stored in your cheeks, creating an unbroken drone. Later, we were given a quick guide to the stars by an expert using a laser pointer that reminded me of a light sabre.

We are in the Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park. Uluru is the monolith formerly known as Ayers Rock. Kata Tjuta is the other immense rock formation in the area. Both formations were created at about the same time, 600 m years ago and in a similar way. Uluru and Kata Tjuta are made of sediment originating in the Mount Currie Conglomerate and both have a chemical composition similar to granite. Uluru is composed of fine grade sediment that formed a single monolith while Kata Tjuta is built of mixed size deposits. After the sediments were laid down, they were compressed and uplifted while the surrounding land was eroded away. Kata Tjuta, also known as The Olgas, is comprised of several domes up to nearly 500 m height. Higher than Uluru. From a distance they look similar.

Day by day we are inching closer to Uluru. The tour company is teasing us. Today we walked up Walpa Gorge, a deep ravine between two of the peaks of Kata Tjuta. As usual, it was a bright sunny morning. We began by visiting a viewpoint where I spotted some Crested Pigeons. There were also some interesting flowers. One of these, a red one, had its flowers at the bottom of the plant. The reason given to me was that the leaves could shelter the flowers from the sun.

Central Australia has been extraordinarily wet this year. One station owner told us that it was a once in ten years event or rarer. The result of this is that, rather unusually, the desert is green and blooming. It barely looks like a desert, at least, not the sort I have seen before. We are out walking in the cool morning looking out on a predominantly green landscape dotted with many types of flowers. This, we are assured, is very unusual.

Getting closer to the raw rock of Kata Tjuṯa, its composite nature becomes much more apparent. Rocks of many assorted sizes have been packed together to form an aggregate. This is not desperately stable and it is easy to spot boulders that have simply fallen out of the cliffs. Uluru, by comparison, is made of a finer and more consistent deposit that has formed a more stable type of rock.

The walk up into Walpa Gorge was interesting. We could not get all the way to the cleft at the top. This was a small disappointment because I had hoped to see out the other side. Nonetheless, it felt like we had penetrated deep into the rock structure. We could get up close and personal with the strange sedimentary deposits.

In the evening we were treated to another of Bruce Monro’s creations. This is the artist who built a large installation out of empty wine bottles. This time it was fields of light. Fields and fields filled with small lights on sticks. Like illuminated tulips. Acres of them. It was quite a remarkable achievement. The evening began at a viewing platform with drinks and snacks. We had yet another view of Uluru as the sun sank down behind us. This time however, I felt the natural world had the last word. There was the most fantastic sunset with an amazing layer of clouds brilliantly lit in red and gold. After that, we did go and wander around the light fields. I amused myself by trying to take photographs without a tripod. The light fields were pleasant but, on balance, the sunset was spectacular.

Getting up at 8 am felt like a luxurious lie-in after the day before. We had an unhurried breakfast before we were taken out to the Karrke Aboriginal Cultural Experience and Tours. This is an Indigenous owned and operated enterprise. Karrke is the Aranda name for the western Bowerbird.

We were introduced to siblings Peter and Natasha who showed us around various displays of bush tucker and bush medicines. I am not entirely sure of this, but I think the old lifestyle would centre around stopping at a place with water and killing some animals. This was the main stay of their nutrition. In between, the group would be moving and often not have the time or the opportunity for hunting. This is where bush tucker would come in. Roots, berries, fruits and other things collected on the go. A supplement to keep everyone going but not the whole diet.

We were shown a wide variety of fruits and berries which could be dried and carried easily. We were also shown how to get the Witchetty grubs out of roots. Natasha assured us that these tasted really nice, a little like fried egg. Diane was not so sure and none of our group was prepared to brave up and try one. A lot was explained to us about the fruits and berries. I was confident that if I photographed them, it would be possible to use Google later to find out the names and specific details. This works quite well for birds. For berries it is hopeless. I guess all dried berries look similar and the only thing I could be sure of from the Google search was that it was usually wrong. So, I present to you, a great pile of unnamed bush tucker.

We were also shown some different types of ochre. A natural clay earth pigment that is rich in iron oxide. The predominant colour in the rock and sand around here is red. Iron oxide in everything. The ochre came in a few different colours each of which could be ground down and used for decoration. Anything from body painting to dyeing cloth.

Finally came medicinal plants. There are not so many of these and mostly they are used by burning them. Pete demonstrated how to stand in front of the smoke. This did not seem so difficult so I had a go myself. The plant being burnt was supposed to relax and invigorate. Not sure if it helped or not but I did smell smoky for a while afterwards.

We had a bit of driving to get on with after this. A couple of hours brought us the Kings Creek Station. In Australia, the term ‘station’ is used to describe a farm or ranch. Kings Creek used to be a cattle station but these days it is more about tourism. You can camp there or rent a luxury tent. There are buggy rides, helicopter rides and horse rides. There is also a service station, restaurant and souvenir shop. We had a cup of tea looked at some souvenirs.

In 1872, the explorer Ernest Giles was pushing east from Alice Springs trying to get to Uluru and Kata Tjuta. He could see both these prominent, rounded features but was ultimately thwarted by Lake Amadeus. At 180 km long, this is the largest salt lake in Northern Territory. The predominantly dry conditions mean that the lake is usually dried out and presents a salty crust. Under this is soft mud and Giles discovered that the lakebed could not support the weight of his horses. We stopped by the roadside for a view over the lake which, although interesting, was not especially photogenic.

Over the last few days, we had been sidling up closer and closer to Uluru, the very large, very famous monolith that used to be called Ayres Rock. Late afternoon we arrived at the Sails in the Desert Hotel, part of the Ayers Rock Resort. We were getting closer than ever to Uluru. It was solidly visible a relatively short distance away.

In the evening we went to sit on the viewing platform of an open-air theatre atop a sand dune. Uluru formed the backdrop. In this lovely setting, just after sunset, we watched a presentation of a traditional Aboriginal story told using drones. 1024 drones with lights on and some big speakers hidden behind bushes. It was fun. We were asked not to take photographs. I sympathised and supported this. I think otherwise we would have watched the presentation through a small sea of smartphones. The story made no sense to me at all but I still enjoyed the show and found myself wondering about how to program and coordinate a drone display. We were given an excellent picnic hamper. It was a bit heavy on the falafel and salad but still went down well with the plentiful drinks.

It was well before 5 am, it was dark and I was barely awake. Diane had already declared that she was having none of it so I tried not to wake her. I tip-toed out of the room as best I could in walking boots. It was a few hundred metres to the restaurant. The air was cool and crisp. The sun and moon were notable for their complete absence. Stars were twinkling and I was going for breakfast. What sort of nonsense is this.

We were up early to do the Kings Canyon rim walk. I have always enjoyed the freedom of the hills. I was quite looking forward to it. Here we were, deep in the outback, far from civilisation, in a vast open country, about to hike a trail that takes in some spectacular views around Kings Canyon. I was rather surprised by how many rules there were. Only do the walk clockwise. You must start before 9 am. Stay on the stairs and boardwalks. Do not swim in the waterhole. Do not fall off the cliffs. Honestly, there were signs stating that falling off the cliffs can hurt.

Breakfast and short drive later we were in the car park. So were quite a lot of other people. It might be the middle of nowhere, but there are only a few places to go. Still no sign of the sun. We followed the crowds and arrived at the bottom of a staircase. It was rough and made of rocks but easy walking. 100 m pull onto the ridge. Our guide, Andy, set off at quite a pace. I didn’t. Seriously, I know better. Early morning is heart attack time. Early morning with strenuous exercise; doubly so. Every winter, about 100 people in the US die while shovelling snow. This used to be a mystery but now we understand the dangers of early morning strenuous exercise. I pottered up without trying too hard. Alpine pace. We eventually all assembled at the top just as the sun finally put in an appearance. It was spectacular. Bright sunshine on the ridges and outcrops around us.

The next hour was pretty steady. An easy undulating path clearly marked with blue arrows. The sun warmed us although not too much. The views made it all completely worthwhile. The crowds had dissipated. Not so much dispersed in the open wilderness as spread out along the single allowed trail. We arrived at the head of the canyon. This is where stops being a magnificent, steeply walled valley and turns into a crack. Still quite an impressive gap which we descended into using some wooden stairs. We crossed over the river via a wooden bridge. This was fun but I could not help but think a narrow suspension bridge would have worked better. One of those that swings a lot and has a couple of sketchy wooden planks in the middle.

At this point, we could have ascended to the far side of the canyon. Instead, we followed a narrow walkway signposted to the Garden of Eden. A rocky path and a couple more wooden stairs. The Garden is a lovely pool tucked deep inside the cleft at the top of the canyon. The trapped water here can last a long time after the rains have stopped making it another sacred pool. There were birds and a mass of vegetation. The pool was like a mirror to the sky. Fantastic reflections if a little confusing because of their clarity.

We pressed on and climbed the ladders up to the far side. This gave us some terrific views across the canyon. Very strange looking rock. It is a sandstone. The sediment from an ancient lake or sea. But it is soft. Quite easy to break in your hands. It forms layered pillow-like structures where it is weathered by the rain and wind. One place on the canyon wall it is steep, almost vertical and quite smooth. Polished flat and then peppered with small indents.

Only about a third of our group had come on the rim walk. The rest, including Diane, had a more relaxed morning and a gentle walk along the bottom of the canyon. They greeted us with cheers when we arrived back at the car park just before midday. King’s Canyon Rim Walk – 6 km, 4 hours, grade 4.

Diane and I grabbed a bit of falafel and salad for lunch. Then came one of Diane’s favourite things to do – a helicopter flight.  The small heliport was conveniently close to the hotel. Four people at a time. Heaviest got to sit in the front next to the pilot. That was nice, I like sitting in the front.

It was a bit of a quickie. A fifteen-minute flight up and around the canyon. We could both see where we had walked in the morning. We could also clearly see the rock formations around the canyon. They looked even stranger from the air. Some sections looked a little like a riverbed albeit on a gigantic scale. The lowlands regularly flood during the rainy season in places this was quite clear. Patches looked just like a dried-up lake. Possibly that is exactly what they were. Fifteen minutes is not very long. Far too soon we were back on the ground. It was, however, an excellent flight.

The program stated, “As afternoon turns to evening, we’ll enjoy sunset drinks and canapes at Light-Towers, an immersive sound and light installation by the acclaimed artist Bruce Munro”. This started off well. Sunset, drinks, canapes. All very enjoyable. Then we ambled along a walkway to see the light installation. It was a series of towers. Each one made of empty wine bottles containing a small light. In the centre of the tower, ethereal music was quietly emanating from a small speaker. Sadly, my missing artistic gene asserted itself again and I was left with a profound sense of “why?”. I imagined the artist had woken up one morning after a particularly good session with friends, seen a great pile of empty wine bottles and thought “what can I do with these?”.

Bags packed and we were ready to leave Alice Springs. Today we are going to head out into the real outback of the West MacDonnell Ranges and Kings Canyon Resort. Many miles to be covered today. Some of them on unpaved corrugated tracks.

First stop was Ellery Creek. A pleasant, short walk to another watering spot in a gap. The morning was cool and fresh. The creek was green and dappled with sunlight. Again, we were told tales of wallabies but saw none. There was, however, tea and cake.

Next stop was Ormiston Gorge. Here Diane and I went our separate ways. Not because we had fallen out but because there was a choice. I took the high road up many steps to a lookout. Diane went for the low road and a gentle stroll down to the river. It was nice to stretch my legs a little and the views were well worthwhile. I even got to spot Diane down in the bottom of the gorge. At the lookout was one of my favourite signs so far. It stated that you should not throw rocks at the people in the bottom of the gorge. No doubt this reminder has saved many lives.

Diane and I were back together again. We had lunch. Salad and falafel in the Ormiston Gorge car park. Then we got settled into the truck for some serious driving. Several hours of it. The road sections were a bit tedious although I enjoyed watching the scenery roll past. The corrugations reminded me of trips in Africa and elsewhere. Uncomfortable and noisy. Everyone was happy when we arrived at our hotel in the Kings Canyon Resort. In this case, resort meant a campsite, some motel style rooms, a filling station and a combined bar and restaurant. Beyond that – nothing. Scrub bushes, sand, distant hills.

Time for an early night. In the morning, I was going to have to get up spectacularly early to walk the rim of the Kings Canyon.

Breakfast in the Alice Springs Hotel was excellent. A good variety of food, proper cappuccino coffee and omelette with chillies. We all assembled at the truck turned into a coach and set off to explore the local area. First stop, only just up the road, was the memorial for Reverend John Flynn at the base of Mount Gillen. His claim to fame is being the founder of the Royal Flying Doctor Service. I guess that is a pretty good one. The 8-ton boulder was requested by his wife. A suitable rock could not be found locally in 1953 so one was fetched from the Devils Marbles (Karlu Karlu) area. Unfortunately, nobody asked permission from the traditional owners of the site, the Warumungu and Kaytetye people. They got upset because these boulders have extraordinary powers and their damage, or removal, can have life threatening consequences. At the same time the people local to Alice Springs, the Arrernte, were concerned about someone else’s sacred boulder on their land. There was much discussion, debate, concern, arguments and even an incident when the stone got painted. In 1998 things were finally sorted out. The original stone when back to where it came from, a suitable replacement was found with permission from the Arrernte. Everyone was happy now they had their rocks back in the right place.

The West MacDonnell mountain range stretches East-West for about 650 km with Alice Springs roughly in the centre. They are not especially high, 1,500 m, but they dominate the landscape and create a variety of interesting features. We began at Simpsons Gap. Black-footed rock wallaby purportedly live here – but we did not see any signs. A short stroll. Some steep rocks and the remains of a river. In the wet season there are rivers all over the place. Most of these stop completely in the dry season. No crocs here. We are too far inland. Many snakes, spiders and other Australian beasts that can kill you but we could at least relax about being crocwise.

Next up was Standley Chasm. Like the previous gap, this is also a place sacred to the Western Arrernte Aboriginal people. It is also a place where water can be found in the dry season. Out here, in the desert, water is massively important. To the nomadic Aboriginals, any sort of settlement, even tents, close to a water source was a threat. This principle was behind many of the early conflicts with European settlers. It took us an hour to walk up to the chasm and back. We were well ready for our lunch, falafel and salad, by the time we got back to the coach.

In the afternoon came the Alice Springs Desert Park. Another of these places that is a combination of a sanctuary, a zoo and a park. The site is orientated around local desert life with a strong focus on birds. We set off following a trail that led us past various enclosures. The first bird area had some cheeky Zebra Finches, a sulking Ringneck and a Triller.

It was hot and sunny. To avoid the worst of the heat we tended to scuttle between the enclosures and the shade of the viewing areas. In the next one we found more finches enjoying a bath. There were also some budgerigars. Long the favourite of Grandmothers around England, these bright birds fly around in the wild outback. These particular budgies were in a cage, albeit a little larger than the one found in the average Rotherham terraced house.

Next enclosure had a perentie monitor lizard in a small, separate section. We also found an oak-titmouse, a red-capped robin and some black-faced woodswallow. At last, we had reached the reptile house. We basked in the coolness as our eyes got used to the dim light. Then I spotted a thorny devil. Incredibly strange looking creatures. Makes me think of Doctor Who monsters from many decades ago. They are, however, very real, very fearsome and fortunately small enough to fit in the palm of your hand.

I spotted a gidgee skink hiding inside a hollow log. In the next tank was a lovely looking rainbow skink. Tiny but very pretty. Then we were back in the great outdoors again. We had to watch the time because there was going to be a bird show and we were assured we would not be allowed in if we were late. One more bird enclosure. This one had a magnificent red-tailed black cockatoo and some tiny bright blue birds. Took me ages to get a photograph of the splendid fairywren. I later found out that the brilliant colours were because it was in its breeding plumage.

The enclosure was quite large. I found several other birds and spent some more time photographing the cockatoos. I also spotted a delicate little brown bird with just a hint of blue on its tail. This turned out to also be a splendid fairywren that was either a female or a male in its non-breeding plumage.

We made it to the bird show on time. It was similar to the one we had seen in the Territory Park, Darwin but still fun to watch. One of the participants was a tiny willie wagtail. Very cheeky and completely unafraid of the larger birds and raptors. An owl was very impressive. It took food from the presenter’s hand and swooped low over the heads of the audience making everyone duck. A black-breasted buzzard turned up and proceeded to demonstrate how to use a stone to crack an emu egg. I was ready for it this time and manage to get a sequence of photographs showing the destruction of the egg.

In the evening we went to a barbeque. I usually try and avoid these disturbingly gruesome and smelly meat festivals however, this time, it was not an option. In the event, I quite enjoyed it. The evening began in an old quarry that has been repurposed. The sunset was terrific and with the encroaching shadow and rising moon, came a pleasant coolness. Our host, the owner of the quarry, regaled us with local stories while simultaneously making bread. This was interesting if nothing else. Turned out that he was quite the raconteur and, we discovered later, a skilled bread maker. As he talked, he mixed flour, water, brandy-soaked raisins, salt and other ingredients. The dough was then kneaded with one hand while he gesticulated with the other.

The main course food was centred around enormous steaks. I know, this is normal for a barbeque. Fortunately, there was also a big pile of baked potatoes that were hot and properly crisped up. Spuds, with some salad and falafel made for quite a reasonable meal. It was served far away from the cooking meat, so thankfully we did not have to tolerate the smell of burning flesh. Also, there was plenty of wine. After dinner came some music, singing and audience participation. Finally, the bread was served. It had been baked in a Dutch oven on an open fire. Now it was served up with a dollop of cream. Delicious.

We were going on a train journey of 3,000 km from Darwin to Adelaide in South Australia. The Ghan is one of the world’s great passenger trains. Started in 1929 as a narrow gauge from Adelaide to Alice Springs it was finally extended, as a standard gauge track, to Darwin in 2004. For some odd reason, the track does not quite reach Darwin but stops about 10 km short. To join the train, we had to get up exceedingly early in the morning and assemble in a hotel lobby to board a coach.

The coach delivered us to the station where we checked in and were then served breakfast on the platform. Around 9am the train arrived. 28 cars pulled by two dark red locomotives. My first impression was that it could do with a bit of a wash. The cars were built in the 70s. They are glorious, if slightly dated, stainless steel carriages.  The two engines at the front were thunderously loud and caked in diesel soot. We took a small step back in time and were shown to our cabin.

The room was small but adequate. A bench seat turned into two bunks at night. There was a small toilet and shower. The type where you could, if you wanted, sit on the toilet while you were having a shower. The cabin was comfortable enough considering that we did not have to spend very much time in there. We sat there for an hour as the train set off and the countryside began to roll past us. A possibly familiar looking waterfall in Litchfield Park flashed past us and then we off into the unknown.

Lunch was served in the dining car. We had to wait ten minutes before we could be seated. It was cosy. I ended trying to eat with my elbows pinned to my chest. Small trees and endless grassland rolled past. I struggled to eat soup with motionless arms, using just wrist action and a spoon. We chatted with the other couple at the table. “Where are you from?”. “Where are you going?”. The usual stuff. I kept hoping to see a kangaroo. The main course was washed down with a glass of white wine. Even a bird would have been nice but all I spotted was a short, barbed wire fence.

Not long after lunch we arrived at the town of Katherine. Population 10,000. 300 km south of Darwin. Farming country. Many cattle and many mango trees. Mining used to be important but less so now. Tourism is significant. We were loaded onto a coach along with some thirty other people and taken to a cave.

Diane and I like caves. We have visited many. We chose a cave trip because it seemed fun and it would be cool. In the event, it was fun but far from cool. First, we were given a little history of the cave in a small visitor centre. Then we were warned of the bats, snakes and spiders that inhabit the cave. Then we were warned of narrow parts and questioned about claustrophobia. Finally, we got to walk the kilometre or so to the cave entrance.

The cave was quite easy. It was fitted with walkways, handrails and electric lighting. Inside was quite pretty with stalactites, stalagmites and various calcite flowstones. It was mucky. The cave floods during the wet season leaving mud on all the walls and discolouring all the formations.

A few minutes in, I spotted my first deadly spider. Turned out to be a cave cricket. Totally innocuous. Not sure if I was disappointed or relieved. However, there was something strange. The further we got into the cave, the hotter it was becoming. Usually, even in the tropics, caves are cooler inside. The explanation was a hot spring. There was volcanically heated water under the cave. It raised the temperature of the terminal sump to 38 °C or so. As we moved forward the air became warmer and more humid. By the time we finally turned around it was quite unpleasantly warm. On the way out we spotted the discarded skin of a snake. The carnivorous ghost bats and brown tree snakes remained hidden. Or possibly absent. Just before we finally left the visitor centre, I discovered another deadly Australian spider in the toilets. Later research revealed that the Golden Silk Orb-Weaver Spider is generally regarded as harmless to humans.

Back at the train, we settled in for the evening. Dinner was a pleasant affair. The table was no bigger but the food was good and the wine plentiful. While we were eating, someone converted our cabin from a bench seat to two bunks. It had been an early start and a long day so we turned in shortly after dinner. I took the top bunk. Rocked by the motion of the train and soothed by the clicking of wheels on tracks, I quickly fell asleep. Diane unfortunately was jolted by the irregular lurching of the carriage and disturbed by the clanking, rattling and thumping sounds of steel wheels on steel tracks.

In the morning, just after breakfast, we arrived at Alice Springs. I was relaxed and well rested. Diane less so. In fact she was tired, grumpy and had a headache. Here we left the train. Alice Springs was the end of phase one of the trip. From here we would travel, by truck, into the outback. A week later we would be back to rejoin the train. In the meantime, we were destined for the harsh bushland of central Australia. First, however, we had lunch in the community arts centre. Lettuce leaves and falafel. We were starting to look forward to it now. During lunch we were introduced to our tour guide, Andy, and to each other. 26 tourists sharing a truck with a coach conversion, for a week.

After lunch, everyone had and hour or so to wander the art gallery. I tried. I really did. But at my core I think I am lacking the genes needed to understand and appreciate art. I wandered around getting increasingly bored and eventually ended up photographing birds in the car park. Art gallery done, we had a short drive around to take in the Alice Springs area. This suited me much better and I got to take some more photographs. That was it for the day. We were taken to our hotel for the next two nights. Diane was greatly appreciative of the quiet, stationary bed.

In Darwin, we had a few days of sitting around getting all our stuff sorted. Then we went to see a crocodile farm. Then we were looking for something else to do so we signed up for a trip to Litchfield Park. This is a large national park to the south of Darwin. Along with a few other tourists, we were going to drive there in a minibus, visit a few locations and come back.

Our day began early. 6 am is possibly the coolest part of the day. Even so, shorts and a shirt are adequate clothing. Up here in the tropics the four seasons are simplified to just two; wet and dry. The dry season has just started so everyone thinks it is cool and pleasant. Except for me. I think it is still hot and sweaty. Possibly the wet season would kill me dead in just a few hours. This said, at 6 am, in my shorts, it was not too bad. The minibus was gloriously air conditioned. I dozed peacefully until, an hour later, we arrived at the termite mounds.

Magnetic termite mounds are so-called because they are long, thin and aligned to the cardinal points. This shape and orientation keeps the worst of the sun off them. The tiny termites stay cool and happy inside. They look a little strange, however. Like large flakes of rock stuck into the ground. Elsewhere, tucked into the trees, a different type of termite had been building the more familiar “cathedral” mound. Some of these were quite large. 3 m or more.

Next stop was an outlook where we could gaze across the park wilderness. In the wet season, much of this gets flooded and crocodiles roam through the stumpy trees. Now the rivers were receding taking the reptiles with them. Dry bits were quite safe, we were told, but some of the pools might be a bit “croccy”. A short stroll took us to a lovely pool with a thundering waterfall. Strictly no swimming here however on account of possibly crocs.

Next up was a swampy area. We were allowed to carefully wander around here while lunch was set up. I found a few birds and a monitor lizard. Lunch was nice. Falafel and salad. Later we discovered that this is the standard lunch for vegetarians. Fortunately, we both like falafel.

Another, even larger series of waterfalls kept us busy in the afternoon. A network of wooden staircases took us between several plunge pools. This area was much more jungle like and densely packed with trees. Still no swimming. Sometimes you can swim here but not until at least four weeks after the last croc is spotted or caught. For now, it was too early in the season.

Last stop of the day was a small series of pools where swimming was allowed. These were positioned above a significant waterfall. This topology meant that crocs could not get to the pools at any time of the year. Crocodiles can jump, we had seen them, but they cannot climb. Many people were here enjoying the cool water and relaxing without the worry of losing a limb. We dangled our feet in the cool stream for a while.

Back in Darwin, we rounded off the day with a visit to Mindle Beach. An evening market is here on Thursdays and Sundays. The stalls are mostly food. Everything from momos and smoothies to kangaroo steaks and local gin. As the sun began to set, we wandered out of the market and onto the beach. There were many people. A thousand or more. All sitting around with some food or a drink watching the sun set. Our local star did its thing admirably. Brilliant red and yellow skies to silhouette some passing boats and even a camel train. There was a collective hush as the last limb of the sun vanished and then applause. Sun worship is alive and well.

Next day we had to repack our bags ready for the long train ride.

We are in Darwin for a few days. We have hired an apartment where we can slow down for a while and get our lives organised. Here we can cook for ourselves and plan our own days. Darwin is in the north of Australia and close to the equator. It is always hot here. The dry season has just started. For the last six months it has been rainy and humid with many thunderstorms. Now it feels cooler and the skies are clear. That is what they tell me. I would agree that the skies are clear but it still feels thoroughly hot to me.

First off we went out to explore Darwin a little and discovered a trove of street art.

Darwin is crocodile central. During the wet season, the crocs can travel along the swollen rivers and across the flooded plains. They get everywhere. Once the dry season arrives, the tourist spots that are “croccy” need to be made safe. This mostly involves trapping. Sadly, most trapped animals end up in the handbag factory. One guide explained to us that a captured crocodile was once tagged so that it could be tracked. It was taken a long way away and released into the ocean. After a while of swimming around it appeared to get its bearings and then headed straight back to the tourist location where it had originally been caught.

A thousand or so people are killed by crocodiles each year around the world. The vast majority of these fatalities occur in rural and impoverished regions of Africa and Asia where people and crocs live in close proximity. Nile crocodiles account for the most injuries. These crocodiles are considered the most prolific predators of humans among wild animals. Saltwater crocodiles are responsible for dozens of fatal attacks every year, particularly in regions like Papua New Guinea and Indonesia. Australia is infamous for its massive apex predators however, fatal crocodile attacks are relatively rare. Records show an average of 1 to 2 fatalities a year nationally, with most incidents occurring not far from Darwin.

There are two principal types of crocodile; saltwater and freshwater. Salties and Freshies according to the local vernacular. Salties have a gland in their mouths which allows them to expel salt. They can live in salt or fresh water. The males are the biggest problem. They can grow to over 5 m long and be quite aggressive. Freshies and female salties rarely exceed 3 m. It may be that the males can grow even bigger. Some fifty years ago, the crocodiles had been hunted almost to the point of extinction. This is a common story. It surprises me how often I write how this or that species was almost wiped out. Anyhow, the government stepped in, made the crocs a protected species and now they are doing quite well. Like most endangered species, the trick is to leave them alone. This does mean however, that there are no really old crocodiles. Male salties continue to grow throughout their life. These days the most mature crocs are sixty years old and 5 m long. They can almost certainly live longer in which case they may well get to be bigger.

Protected or not, there is a big market for crocodile skins and meat. This has led to the establishment of crocodile farms. Initially this was to satisfy the demand for skins but, more recently, crocodile meat has become known as a fashionable and healthier (for the human, not the croc) alternative to pork. As with most animals, the Chinese will use it in their traditional medicine although they are not great eaters of croc meat.

Turns out that farming crocs is not completely straightforward so the business is often combined with tourism. An argument can be made that farming reduces the risk from poaching. It can also be combined with a program to support the wild population. Similarly, a better understanding of crocodiles through their captive handling may also benefit the wild population.

We went to visit a crocodile farm called Crocodylus Park. It does not advertise itself as a farm. Rather it is “Darwin’s premier wildlife park”. There are a lot of crocodiles along with dedicated breeding pens and other facilities. There is also a small shop which sells souvenirs and handbags.

When we first arrived, we were asked if we wanted to see the jumping crocs. This sounded too good to miss. We crossed the attendant’s palm with silver and proceeded to a small, flat-bottomed boat along with a few parents and many small children. Now, consider that this is a farm, so they must feed the crocs. Each mature snapper gets about a kilo of raw chicken each day. If you dangle that chicken on the end of a pole, the croc will learn to jump out of the water for it. People will pay to see this. Now, you are making money out of your crocs in two ways. Happy days. The reality was not so exciting as I had hoped. The boat had a metal cage around it. This kind of makes sense but when combined with all the small children it made taking worthwhile photographs almost impossible.

The rest of the park was quite interesting. There were many distinct types of crocodile in many different stages of development. Diane got to hold a small, rather disaffected youth of a croc with a taped-up mouth. Even the little ones are good for solid nip and this one looked up for some insults as well. We saw some injured crocs as well. One female was missing part of her lower jaw.

Mostly the park is crocodiles but there were a few other animals. Some were Australian and others simply there for novelty value. On the Aussy side there were some wallabies and dingoes. Representing the rest of the world we spotted a handful of African meercats. Extremely cute but also a bit lonely. A South American capybara, looking long way from its home. An ostrich. Remarkably large when you get eye to eye with one. A very strange looking monkey that I chose to call Colin. Colin the Cotton-Top Tamarin from Columbia.

We managed to wander around for three hours but then the heat was starting to get to us. There was a small crocodile museum that we enjoyed visiting because of the air conditioning. Then we were done and headed back to our small apartment and more air conditioning.