Book Review: The Girl Who's Never Had A Valentine by Elizabeth Player

Book Review: The Girl Who's Never Had A Valentine by Elizabeth Player

Thailand - Last Leg

Thailand: Last Leg Of Our Round The World Trip

We flew into Bangkok and took a taxi to the Viva Garden Hotel, situated about 15 miles out of the city. The landscape, from the little shanty type villages and towns along the route were not unlike Kuala Lumpur. I'm sure the locals of both countries would disagree but that's how it appeared to me. We were welcomed into the unexpectedly posh hotel and taken up to our room that had a balcony and little kitchenette which we were delighted with. We'd been advised to buy our drinking water from any 711 – to avoid getting stomach upsets. In the refrigerator they'd left us bottled water. The staff were extremely courteous. The concierge, who spoke fairly good English, appeared to have many jobs, from carrying bags to booking trips and tours. He was a chubby bloke and his uniform wouldn't have looked out of place in a good old British panto. Basic brown, trimmed with gold brocade and epaulettes and to top it all off a little pill box hat. We christened him, affectionately, Buttons. Ray made the huge mistake of tipping Buttons when he brought up our bags with the equivalent of half a weeks wage. Another currency clanger. Over the next couple of days in order to avoid his unwanted attention we sidled out the back door, crept around by the pool and waited until his back was turned to rush through the reception area to make our escape. Like a meerkat he was on full alert and became a complete and utter pain in the arse. 

We booked a guide to take us on a tour of the Temples and he arrived bright and early with an air conditioned taxi. The young man spoke very good English and spent the next five hours doing just that, talking non stop. On the journey to the first temple he regaled us with his own history, where he'd come from, where his family came from, they were peasant farmers and that was all hugely interesting. 

The heat was oppressive. We had to pay a small entrance fee to get into the Temple of the Golden Buddha, which was impressive, standing several metres high. Our guide gave us a detailed history. I'd worn a skirt, so as not to offend by turning up in the wrong shorts or trousers but I was wearing a sleeveless top (wrong) due to the scorching temperature. The temples are equipped for every eventuality and at the entrance there were women on hand to take your money and allow you to dip into a basket of clothes they offer to unsuitably clad tourists. I was given a cotton shawl type thing to cover up my shoulders and arms. Also, we had to remove our shoes, which was fine. I wandered into the temple where some people were on their knees praying before a flower adorned alter. My view was interrupted when this huge bloke stood in front of me. Glancing down I noted that his feet were something to behold and had to smile to myself. If anybody was offending Buddha’s eyes surely it would have been him with his mis-shapen, disgusting trotters and a beer-belly hanging out of his Hawaiian shirt, and not me with my slim shoulders and slightly flabby upper arms. Perhaps Buddha doesn't take into account the whole person!

This country has hawkers on every corner and when we came out of the Temple a dodgy looking bloke masquerading as a photographer came up to us trying to flog a tacky badge with a picture of us in it. We hadn't asked for it. The guide advised us to give him half of what he asks for and seemed reluctant to get involved. He did tell us later that they wouldn't think twice about beating him up. We did as he suggested.  We spent the next couple of hours in and out of temples and for the most part it was fascinating but it was just so hot. Most of the Buddha statues were covered in gold leaf. The huge Buddha was made of solid gold and had been found buried some seven hundred years ago but nobody knew where it had been made or by whom!

A few monks in orange robes were in evidence around the temples. Our guide told us that every young man, as part of their Buddhist faith, was expected to spend some time in a monastery. The length of time you spent there very much depended upon your station in life. If your parents are poor and need you to work on the land then you might only have to attend for one week. If your parents can afford it you might be sent for six months or a year. You lead a life of frugality and prayer. He said that his mother was keen for him and his two brothers to attend to ensure her passage into the afterlife. He explained. Once she dies she will have to go into somewhere like limbo and wait for the passing of one of her sons; he then guarantees her admission into the promised land or whatever their equivalent is. Like all religions it's man made and leaning fairly heavily to the male of the species. I did light an incense burner and say a prayer for my mum and dad and Ray's mum, which I usually do whenever I'm in a church and not because I believe in any higher deity in particular. But, you never know.

On route back to the hotel we were taken to a gold shop, stuffed full of expensive jewellery and then to a place where you could have a suit made. We didn't particularly want to go to either but I guessed that the guide was getting a back hander to deliver unsuspecting tourists. The guy in the suit shop, doing all the talking, was an English/Asian and even if I'd wanted a suit I wouldn't have bought it there. He was so pushy and quite rude.

Back to the hotel and we had something to eat and a very pleasant swim in the pool. Ray was keen to go the Bridge on the River Kwai the next day, but it was quite far. We looked at our various options. We could go by train or bus; unfortunately the public transport didn't look like somewhere I wanted to be trapped in for up to three hours, along with chickens and goats, so we decided to book a guided air conditioned taxi. Buttons organised it for us and I'm sure the couple who turned up were his relatives. I think we got ripped off but the car was modern, clean and cool and that suited me fine. The previous day, although we liked our man he talked us to death. 

The journey took around two and half hours and we watched the same scenary zip by. Built up areas full of buildings and cranes and the blanched, uninteresting countryside with lots of rubber and banana trees.   Our guide, although very smiley and pleasant spoke very little on the journey and her husband doing the driving didn't speak at all, which suited me fine.  

On our way to the Bridge we stopped off at the famous Floating Markets, well advertised and somewhere 'you should go.' We were dropped at the busy market area and our guide bustled us through several stalls to the riverside where our boat was waiting. We were shown to a canoe type boat and the man rowing paddled us away through the floating stalls, which are set up so that you can approach them quite easily. The goods were mostly over priced bric-a-brac that you could live without. The stall owners, many of them elderly women who didn't look short of a few quid, with nice hair styles, good clothes and faces made up, sat with a big hook and if they saw a boat passing with likely customers (mugs) they hooked you in. When you said you didn't want anything they were visibly annoyed. Other boats had 6-8 people in and were powered with huge outboard engines; Ray pointed out that they were actually car engines, so the whole place was noisy and a bit smelly with petrol fumes belching out. I bought a few items, cheap souvenirs and again knew that I'd been ripped off.

When we got off the boat our guide was no where to be seen and I was desperate for the toilet. We wandered around the land market and finally discovered a woman with a table on which sat a bucket for money and a few toilet rolls. She took our money and pointed to a makeshift building with a basin and tap outside. Inside the cubical there was a fairly high step with what looked like a huge basin with foot holders either side, in which to place ones feet, and a bucket of water in the corner with a big ladle, and not a toilet roll in sight. What the f....! There was nothing for it... I stepped up and carefully turned around and tried to crouch down without wetting everything in the process. Task completed I hopped down without breaking anything and proceeded to slop water into the bowl from said bucket. I left and washed my hands in the little sink outside then shook them out to dry. Ray had taken one look in his cubicle and decided he could hang on. The woman sitting at the table who'd happily taken my money smiled as I passed by and had there not been a language barrier I might have asked about the loo paper, or lack of, and the need for a sign indicating that people of a certain age may find the terrain a tad difficult.

Our guide found us and she'd bought more bottled water which we appreciated and also some sweet pastries which were actually very good. We proceeded with our journey and our next short stop was  a memorial ground dedicated to the British soldiers who'd died during World War II, many on the building of the Burma to Thailand railway. All of the memorial grounds are extremely well kept.

Bridge on the River Kwai

It was Sunday and the place was packed with a mix of nationalities. There appeared to be lots of young Thai people out enjoying their week end; they were loud and laughing while on the bridge. Ray thought they didn't seem very respectful of the place and what it represented.  Perhaps not, but then again they probably hadn't bothered to look into the history. The bridge has probably got a few of the original beams on it but it has been re-built to look more or less how it was and again it's a real money spinner.

We had our meal on the floating restaurant overlooking the river and it was fab. From the waitresses dressed in their beautiful traditional outfits to the sumptuous buffet. There really was something for everyone. The place was busy but very well catered and we enjoyed our lunch and pleased that we could at last get a taste of Thailand from the aromatic rice to the spicy meats and sweet sweet deserts. By the time we got back to the car we were about done in and I slept most of the way home (so did our guide).

That evening Ray said he was going to walk across the road to the 711 to get some water and a few odds and ends and I fell asleep. When he came back it was dark and it seemed he'd been gone a long time. He said it was like venturing out into the black hole of Calcutta, the whole place was teeming with people on every mode of transport imaginable and the shops were flogging everything and anything on the hot, dirty, noisy street. Our hotel was totally at odds with its surroundings. I can only imagine the land they built on was much cheaper than closer to the capital. To get to the other side of the street there was an overhead bridge, which formed part of the railway station, situated fairly close by and that proved to be the only safe method of getting across the road.

On our second afternoon we'd come back to the hotel and were just sitting on the balcony when there was an almighty bang; it sounded like a bomb had gone off. Given the area I wouldn't have been surprised. The electricity in the region had given up the ghost and we were left in the dark that evening. The staff were fantastic and couldn't do enough for us. The meals in the restaurant were complimentary as were the drinks. They did have a generator and managed to get things into action on the ground floor but our rooms didn't have any power and the only thing we were bothered about was the air con. We went to bed about 11.00 pm and noticed that poor old Buttons was running up his own behind trying to please everyone. We were in bed, sweating cobs, and around 2.00 am there was a knock at the door... Ray got up and answered it in his pants and there stood Buttons with a big fan! Now that's what you call service - but being English I'm afraid that his attention to detail had only managed to really get on my nerves. 

Next day when we checked out the staff couldn't have been more apologetic and refunded us one night's stay for all the inconvenience, which we hadn't expected. Taking a good look around as we left the hotel I wasn't in the least bit surprised that the electricity went bang... looking at the mish mash of wiring threading it's way in and out of crumbling buildings and the thick bundles of cables strung between telegraph poles , not ten feet above your head, would have been enough to send any self respecting electrician into melt down. Dangerous wasn't the word. 

Our brief encounter with Thailand probably didn't do it justice for us, probably because  by that time we were a little weary and just wanted to get home.

The flight home passed without incidence. We were on one of the double decker sky buses. Arriving back to the gloom of a cold November morning at Heathrow Airport was quite welcoming. We hired a car to drive back to Cornwall and arrived in Newlyn late that afternoon. Our little house was still standing and all I wanted to do was get into my own bed and sleep, which I did. 

To say we'd had a wonderful journey doesn't come close but the best thing of all was getting to see Charlotte for an extended period and take time to get to know her lovely boyfriend, Brian. We've spent the winter harking back to our adventures and we've enjoyed that too. I'm almost certain that we shall be heading down under again in the not too distant future.

Malaysia

Because we'd been so fired up with 'going to Australia' we probably didn't do too much reading up on Malaysia. The flight was on time and passed without incidence. Expecting to be met at the airport by 'someone' we passed through the exit and scanned the crowd of waiting taxi drivers to see if our name appeared on one of their hand held notice boards. We were in luck and quickly found our man who escorted us out of the airport. He was very polite, spoke some English but he was so poorly dressed my heart went out to him; his suit would have been rejected by any charity shop and as we followed behind him I noticed his shoes were so down at heel and ill fitting it affected how he walked. We'd discussed tipping and Ray was adamant that in Malaysia and Thailand locals would be offended by any gesture of tipping. I thought I'd chance it and when we got to the taxi I gave our man R20 … that's about £3.00. He didn't appear offended, quite the contrary, he seemed pleased and stopped to chat to our taxi driver (they obviously knew one another) before we departed on the one hour drive to our hotel. The taxi driver talked non-stop, advising us where to go, who to trust (no one apparently) and where to keep our cash. After a while I switched off and stared out through the window at the sprawling countryside sitting either side of the busy highway. Kuala Lumpur's road system appears to be fairly well maintained but is completely mental. The whole place is awash with bikes, scooters, mopeds and anything that moves on two wheels and they don't seem to care how close they get. I lost count of the near misses and kept wincing, waiting for the inevitable crash. When we got to our destination Ray decided he should give our taxi man a tip, no doubt his mate had given him the nod that we were okay! Unfortunately, due to our lack of currency knowledge Ray gave him all the local currency he'd got in his pocket, it turned out to be the equivalent of 50p (we worked it out later). The taxi driver probably called him all the tight bastards going.

Our hotel, The Angurr, was described as 'boutique.' On first viewing I'd say it was probably more tragique - A frozen in time, old colonial style hotel overlooking a building site to the side and rear..nice. However, our room situated on the ground floor was fine, complete with wifi; I sent a few emails letting people know we were still alive. After a rest we ventured out into the night looking for food, advised by the lady on reception that good local food was available at the bottom of the road, take a right turn. We did, and ended up running the gauntlet past hordes of street hawkers trying to lure us 'Europeans' into their establishments for food, trinkets and probably a whole lot more, judging by the shortness of the skirts and height of the high heels. After the pristine beauty of Australia, Malaysia was taking a bit of getting used to.

The hotel location was pretty grim. You had to constantly watch your step when out in the street because the uneven pavements were quite dangerous, not to mention the traffic. The stench from some of the street vendors is stomach churning and the general lack of hygiene is something to behold. Tired and disorientated we ended up eating in a street café and my luke warm lamb dish served up on a tin plate (that you'd feed to the dog) was truly horrible. I ate a bit of it mostly because the staff were very friendly and probably knew that we'd wandered in like aimless fools. I didn't want to end up with deli belly. The two meals and a drink cost the equivalent of £4.00.

Day 2: This started off much better and we had breakfast on the roof terrace of the hotel. Fruit, yoghurt and toast and English tea or coffee. It was fine. We walked towards the city centre, less than half and hour, which was a big mistake due to the humidity. By the time we got on the hopper bus we were knackered. The bus is great value and as I've said before it is without question the best way to see a city if you've got limited time. We paid something like £50 in LA for the tour bus. In KL we paid £15. We stopped off at the Botanical Gardens for lunch, which was busy with both tourists and local business people, always a good indication. Malaysia is a mix of of Thai and Chinese and the food reflects this. Ray had satay chicken, which he said was excellent and then he absolutely stank for the rest of the day. I had a salad of some description. My enforced diet was going very well. We got back on the bus and were taken to the Palace where the much revered Royal family live. We got to the Petronis twin towers and got off the bus to take a few pics. I don't know if we were over with travelling but the heat and the humidity were getting us down and we just wanted to go home. But, it wasn't over yet.

That evening we turned left at the top of our smelly, broken down road and found a whole selection of more 'European' type restaurants, serving food I could eat. Ray really wanted to get stuck into the local cuisine, but I think it's best to have someone along to guide you and suggest a few dishes. We found a steak place and it was great, not just with the lovely food, but the service was top notch. Half way through my meal I noted there didn't appear to be many or any women apart from myself and the men dining together were clearly in couples. A gay steak bar; we did have to pay for the privilege of the fine meal, around £40.00 but it was worth every penny.

Day 3: We went into KL and headed for a huge shopping Mall of which there seem to be many, just to get into some kind of air conditioning. The heat is unbearable. The vast malls are beautiful and would look at home in any first rate city; London, New York, Paris. But, they appeared to be empty. Barely anyone in there. Every high street name you could mention was represented and their prices were not cheap. Who were these shopping malls for? Not the local population that's for sure.

I booked myself in for a Thai Massage at our hotel in the afternoon. I tried to encourage Ray but he said he'd give it a miss. The small woman aged about 40 guided me into a darkened room with a dim light and a mattress on the floor. Nothing fancy. However, she proceeded to give me a massage the like of which I'd never experienced before and the unimaginative, dingy surroundings didn't match up to her obvious expertise in the art of massage. I believe she gave me a shiatsu massage, followed by aromatherapy. The fat owner of the hotel appeared to be running the massage business on the side and I dare say my masseuse was paid a pittance. I left her a hefty tip, discreetly.

I don't think we were in the right frame of mind to appreciate all that Kuala Lumpur had to offer but it did give us a sample of what we were about to encounter when we hit Bangkok.

　

　

　

　

　

Back In Brisbane

Back in Brisbane

Over the next couple of weeks we had some lovely days out with Charlotte and Brian and spent precious 'quality time' together. The Bar-B-Q proved a big hit and we seemed to have cracked mealtimes with myself or Ray doing the veg stuff and Brian cooking the meat.

For my birthday Charlotte had bought tickets for the theatre production of 'Strictly Ballroom' which I was delighted about. I'd loved the film and Charlotte is a real Baz Lurmann fan and he'd had some input with the stage production. We went into Brisbane, ate an early dinner, after which Ray and Brian dropped us at the theatre then went off to a race track to watch some kind of banger racing; the theatre didn't appeal to them.

Excited, we took our seats and I have to confess I'm a bit of a moaner if I don't get a good view, when tickets are so expensive. We were perfectly placed when suddenly a family arrived with two little kids, aged around 4 and 6. What the ….

Instead of putting the children between them the parents shoved them side by side next to me.. 'Noooooo' Charlotte changed seats with me and I wound myself up looking across at these adults who were totally ignoring the kids, she laughing away with a plastic glass of wine and him right at the end of the row. The children did nothing wrong, they were little kids who some moron thought would sit still through a two hour adult show. A quick look around the theatre and there wasn't another kid to be seen – just our luck. When the lights went down and the show began I was fine but Charlotte said she was going to move, which she did. The little boy, right next to her was fidgeting, talking and rattling a massive bag of sweets. How infuriating. I waited until the interval and followed Charlotte out. While shuffling past 'said parents' I pointed out that we were moving due to their noisy kids; they looked flabbergasted when I suggested that sitting their little darlings between them might have been and idea. The tickets cost over $100 each. My advice is – if you can't get a baby sitter, stay home. How inconsiderate. When everyone returned for the second half Charlotte said the husband (a thick-necked bogun full of tats) was eye-balling her for a good two minutes but she stared him out. We did get seats at little further back and I had to move again because a huge Amazonian type woman plonked herself right in front of me. I'm sure her head and hair were double the size of most normal people. Having said all that the show was absolutely brilliant. When we told the men our little tale Ray said he wasn't in the least bit surprised because 'there isn't a cinema or theatre, seemingly now in the whole world, that 'suits' Liz.' But, it really wasn't like that!

Charlotte and Brian had a long week-end and we decided to take a trip to Noosa. It's a posh little seaside place full of rich people, where they have their holiday homes and keep their boats. We'd found out quite by chance that a 'classic car' event was taking place over the week-end and Ray and Brian were keen to take a look.

Charlotte and myself went off to take a look at the little town and had lunch in one of the many outdoor cafés. Noosa has a rich history and a natural beauty that earned it the title of Queensland's first UNESCO Biosphere Reserve. There are many spectacular views of beaches, mountains, birds and marine life. The town itself was full to bursting with week-enders visiting, like us. Also, there appeared to be an army of aged, mahogany coloured folk, wearing shorts and baseball caps and taking full advantage of the fabulous weather. I guess they'd be the retirees. Who could blame them? We joined Brian and Ray later on and had a quick whiz around the classic car show; they seemed to have been in there for hours. Men and cars and machines! That afternoon we took another ferry ride to a lovely little island where we stopped off for a cool drink and agreed that Noosa would be a lovely place to live. That evening we drove out quite a few miles and found a hotel/tavern/pub to spend the night, which worked out very well because Brian wanted to watch his football team (Aussie) in their cup final and his team won, 'The Cowboys' I think.

Time was running away and one of the last trips we took with Charlotte and Brian was up to Tamborine Mountain, where they boast a sky-walk through the jungle. We took the 45 minute walk through the rainforest canopies, stopping along the way to read all the information about the flora, fauna and history of the place. Oddly, there was a plaque honouring Jack Brabham, an old time racing driver; I recognised the name but hadn't realized he was Australian. There is an astonishing 300 metres of high-tech steel bridges through the highest points of the upper canopy, and a 40 metre cantilever bridge that soars a breathtaking 30 metres above the creek and rainforest below. It wobbled a bit and if you have vertigo you might feel a bit odd. Charlotte then tells me that she has trouble getting on and off escalators. When did that happen? Aside from that we had a lovely time and again it was great just to get into the cool.

Our journey hadn't quite finished. The next leg and flight to Malaysia was leaving from the Gold Coast airport. Charlotte and Brian were going to drop us down to our motel and spend the day with us and return after dinner. But, just as I'd thought, that was going to be dragging it out and she would be getting upset. So after a walk along the beach and a coffee we said our goodbyes; all feeling a bit miserable.

Australia had been a wonderful experience and one that we hope to repeat in the not too distant future. Would we have ever made it down under if Charlotte hadn't been there? Possibly not. From the mountains to the sea to the pristine cities Australia is a land with so much to offer and a place you could easily settle into. How sad for us that it just happens to be on the other side of the world.

EAST COAST DRIVE – SYDNEY TO BRISBANE
 

Armed with a sat nav and a new phone we began our journey running up the east coast from Sydney to Brisbane heading up the Pacific Highway and ended up in Belmont a little lakeside town on Lake Macquarie. We booked into a hotel and next day we took a stroll around the huge lake then found a secluded beach, courtesy of the built in sat nav and phone, where we stopped off for a swim – Stephen's Beach. While floating on my back in the warm waters of the Tasman Sea enjoying the hot sunshine Ray commented

“Not as cold as the Atlantic Liz.” to which I replied,
“No! But definitely warmer than Roratonga.” Quite a surreal moment and not a conversation you think you'd ever be having.

Up along the east coast many of the small towns are much the same with small communities now catering mostly for tourists, but they all have interesting histories. Most were colonised by the English, initially with penal colonies. The prisoners were used as labour to build the towns and factories for whatever industry they were developing in that area; mining, farming, forestry.

Continued up the east coast with ease and stopped off at a place called Forster and found a motel. The receptionist was just leaving, it was around 7.30 pm but she kindly stayed and booked us in. She couldn't get away fast enough. Our hotels/motels to date have been fine. All clean and functional, nothing luxurious but we weren't looking for that. The Barkleigh Hotel boasted on it's sign outside whirlpool spa in king-sized room. This I had to see. In what looked like a very ordinary motel room was a massive jaccuzzi and it was filthy. Not unwashed but old and marked and the whole idea of it was ridiculous. I wouldn't have sat in that for a million pounds... yuk! The carpet was stained and the bed was rock hard. The complimentary breakfast consisted of stale bran type flakes and a lady serving toast, which was okay.

PORT MACQUARIE

This is one of the largest towns in the area, established in 1821 as a self sufficient penal colony. We paid a visit to their Heritage Museum containing an impressive catalogue of artefacts both indigenous and more recent within the last 200 years, painting a colourful history of the people their skills and how they lived. Again, the strong English/Irish/Scottish/Welsh connection and old ledgers with lists of the prisoners names sent to the other side of the world to build and populate the new country. Didn't find any Players or Clohessys. Port Maquarie is just that, a port. Back in the day before roads were built everything and anything had to be transported by ship. Nowadays you'll probably find more pleasure craft than working ships in the harbour. The whole of this coastline is dotted with national parks, steep hills and valleys, rainforests, lakes and ocean beaches. There is something for everyone.

Koala Hospital: (Port Macquarie)

I wanted to see both a Koala and a Kangaroo before leaving Australia and because we weren't venturing into the outback I guessed that particular desire might have to be satisfied in a zoo or sanctuary. The hospital was a perfect place to visit. Free entry, managed by volunteers. They allow the public in twice a day at feeding time and give a running commentary about each case. Unfortunately, we didn't get to hold one of the little bears. They are like inanimate objects, but so cute. One long term inmate arrived due to bush fires. He'd been burned so badly he could no longer climb, but against all the odds he'd survived and now they will keep him forever. Other bears that come in injured they will fix up, nurse back to health and set them free back to wherever they'd been picked up. They rely on donations to keep the place going. By late afternoon it started to rain so we decided to get a few miles under our belt and headed up to Coff's Harbour. Ray is in love with the sat nav and his phone; but is still insistent that I have a map on my lap, just in case. Talk about belt and braces. 

We booked into Diggers Tavern in Bellingen.   The accommodation was good and clean and we ate in the restaurant, it was more of a canteen. Diggers Tavern was typical of the Taverns up and down Australia, but this was more of the old fashioned type. I had salmon and veg and Ray had a steak schnitzel. That's a steak in a coating of breadcrumbs/batter – What! I hear you say. The Australian menu is something to behold. Not unlike English/American/European but they have some very peculiar twists. They obviously like the German schnitzel, which is usually veal in breadcrumbs so they took that and made a complete arse of it. His steak 'thing' looked rank, but he ate it because he was starving. The next day we had a look around and we hit on a farmers market. I bought a punnet of organic strawberries from a young woman who farmed locally and I can honestly say I haven't tasted such lovely strawberries since I was a kid. Delicious – I ate most of them in one hit.
 

COFF'S HARBOUR

Coff's Harbour, a sub tropical holiday town known for its banana plantations and for its great fishing. We left early and arrived at around 9.00 am. We made our way to the harbour and stopped off at the Yacht Club for breakfast. The place was busy with what looked like retired people and business people. The breakfast was very good. We took a leisurely walk along the board walk and made our way up Mutton island, a nature reserve. It's pretty steep and we definitely got our cardio in for the day. There were some interesting facts posted along the way about one of Australia's most interesting migratory birds that nest on the island; the Shear-water. They nest in burrows which were clearly evident.

As we drive up the M1 dipping out and back to the coast road I'm still fascinated with all those aboriginal names, blending in with the given English names. Broadwater, Evans Head, Murwillumbah National Park, Wooyoung, Mullumbimby to name but a few.

BYRON BAY
 

Stayed the night in Ballina on the way to Byron Bay. We had our breakfast in a very nice restaurant with a lovely outside terrace. I had granola (a strange affair) and Ray ordered fried eggs on toast. They came with balsamic vinegar and rocket on the side and some kind of spicy salsa. Like I said they take a perfectly good dish and piss about with it until its all wrong. My granola, dry and dusty, came with yoghurt and honey on the side, which was fine, I could add it as I saw fit. Byron Bay was only a 10 -15 miles away so we got there early.

Stopping on the way to take in the sights was well worth it as you will see from the photographs. The coastline is stunning. Byron Bay, named by James Cook, Cape Byron, is mainland Australia's most easterly point. Byron itself is a low rise town and the locals seem dedicated to preserving its small town soul. It reminds me of old hippy towns like Key West and St. Ives, as they used to be back in the day.  All of that mixed in with the surf culture provides a vibe that attracts teens by the score (apparently).  Candle and soap shops, dream catcher sellers and art galleries all seem to be making a living. Byron is the place to be seen, for the young and young at heart. 

We made our way up to the lighthouse where the views were spectacular and the little museum although small was really interesting.  A volunteer filled me in with some fascinating facts and while she was telling me that the whales were still migrating down the coast, heading in a southerly direction and she'd been lucky enough to spot one from her kitchen window that very morning; in the meantime Ray was outside with a German tourist who offered him his binoculars to take a look at a whale, not too far away, breaching.  Missed that one too. The views from the summit of the lighthouse were breath taking. Information does say that you might see dolphins, year round. Didn't see any of them either. They probably popped up while I was having a cup of tea in the café. The place was packed with tourists from all over the world, although we didn't come across any other English. It was surprising that the random people we did speak to, Australian mostly, seemed to delight in pointing out that England had been knocked out of the Rugby World Cup... like I could give a toss.

GOLD COAST
 

Heading for the Gold Coast we stopped off along the way at Hungry Jacks for burger and chips which I really enjoyed. Don't often eat fast food but it did the trick. We arrived in Surfers Paradise late afternoon and parked up to take a walk along the seafront. As we approached the city we were amazed at the skyline. We could have been looking at any high rise city from Sydney to New York. Driving into the main town the high rise buildings looked space age and again, clean. Everything is so clean. The locals it seems did or have objected to all the building work and the high rise buildings but its been going on since the sixties and a place where Australians holiday and have second homes. Along the seafront I stopped and read lots of the plaques, commemorating past wars, sporting heros and something I'd been telling Ray about as we were approaching Surfers Paradise. The Meter Maids. Set up in the 60's the maids would patrol around the town helping out unsuspecting tourists and topping up their parking meters. (Ray queried this and disbelieved, but I'd actually seen it on TV). Low and behold there was a massive board with the original maids, in their bikinis, patrolling the streets of Surfers Paradise. A facility still in place today, and quite a tourist attraction. We didn't get to see a real live one though. The local council pay for it and although it appears just a tad sexist I guess its still going because it was put in place back in the 60's by a local female councillor.

It was early evening and along the beachfront we saw two men  getting ready to cook on one of the public BBQ's.  They are a free facility and you will find them in every little seaside town.  It's a brilliant set up.   People are very respectful and will clean up after themselves and take away their rubbish; if they didn't I'm absolutely certain that your average aussie wouldn't stand for it and tell them in no uncertain terms how it is. 

As the sun went down we were contemplating the final leg of our journey back up to Brisbane.

 

 

Sydney and Bondi .... worth the wait.

BONDI AND SYDNEY

BONDI:

We took a flight from the Brisbane airport down to Sydney and guessed we'd be gone about a week and I did take enough stuff to last a month. I know that now, looking back, but a big old row almost blew prior to our leaving with Ray on my case literally.

Sydney is one hour ahead and our mid day flight dropped us in Sydney by early afternoon. Alex, now back in Sydney had kindly offered to collect us from the airport. He drove us the 40 minutes to Bondi Junction where we'd booked in for three days at the Quest Hotel, suggested by Charlotte and Brian. Bondi Junction, where they used to live, is really handy for the city with great train and bus connections and also a bit cheaper than Sydney for everything. Our accommodation came with a kitchenette which meant we could buy in few bits and pieces for breakfast. We got a travel card that gave us access to train/bus and ferry throughout the area. We'd been advised that a great walk to do around Bondi would be the coastal walk from Bondi Beach to Coogee -  so on our first day that's where we headed.

Unfortunately, the day was overcast and windy, but it didn't rain. Up to that point we'd been very lucky with the weather. Being winter the beach wasn't packed and the Pavillion was full of OAP tourists (like us) mostly Chinese. Bondi is one of the oldest seaside communities around the Sydney area and the local architecture reflects that. Our first port of call was a coffee at the Bondi Pavillion. Down on the beach we walked along the wall and you will see from the pictures that the wall running for about 300 yards is full of 'graffitti' but not really. An elderly man with a white beard was busy putting the finishing touches to a huge and brilliant painting of a very young Arnold Schwarzenegger and I asked him about the wall.

He told me that each painting will be displayed for six months and you have to apply to the local council for permission, putting your proposal forward and if it's approved you then get a designated area – I think it was 12 feet wide. I did note that a good many of the other paintings were memorials, some relating to WW2 and also the Bali bombings.

We put our best foot forward and headed along the coastal path to Coogee with the promise of a good lunch when we got to the other end – about 4 miles. Along the way we passed by the Icebergs swimming pool where some of the old members were doing their daily work out. They swim every day of the year in the outside pool. Some of the amazing rock formations looked like great big crunchies – there were plenty of plaques dotted along the route explaining the history of the volcanic soft rock accompanied by the aboriginal names and the age old stories of the region.

We kept up a reasonable pace along the coastal path and didn't complain too much about all the up and down. Some parts would not be suitable for anyone with rickety knees. But, we did notice that the locals like everywhere in Australia made good use the excellent pathway; walking, running strolling with the dog and you could of course do as much or as little as you wanted to. Passing by a huge cemetery we noted that some of the stones dated back over 150 years and bore so many names we recognised - English, Irish, Scottish and Welsh. Some even stated where the deceased had come from - Eric Brown from Portsmouth, England. Finally we reached Coogee and headed to the restaurant serving the famous 'Moo Burger' which we were assured was the best in the vicinity. It was if you had a mouth as big as a cave entrance. We'd worked up quite an appetite but sometimes you can have a bit too much. Ray enjoyed his, but it was massive and I could barely get my delicate little mouth around it. We got the bus back to Bondi and collapsed after all that exertion and fresh air, not to mention a massive burger. We planned our much anticipated trip into Sydney for the following day.

SYDNEY:

How many times have you seen that iconic building 'The Sydney Opera House?'   I don't think there's a soul on the planet, apart from a few pygmies in the South American rain forest, who wouldn't recognise it immediately. When we got off the train in central Sydney we stepped on to the famous George Street and walked the length of it heading down towards the harbour. The pictures will show a good many of the key buildings and places of interest, some I took from the Sydney Eye, observation tower, situated at the top of the Westfield Tower.

Approaching Sydney Harbour was quite a moment and I wasn't disappointed with that first glimpse. The city, like Brisbane, is fresh and new and a pleasure to walk through. When we hit the harbour the sights were truly breath taking with the Opera House taking centre stage. It was around mid-day and the waterside cafes were buzzing with the lunchtime trade. Office workers and tourists mingled, eating alfresco and enjoying the glorious sunshine. To make the most of our day out we decided to go to the Opera House and Botanic Gardens, both sitting fairly close together. I wanted a tour around the inside of the Opera House Ray wasn't bothered so we split up for a couple of hours. The inside of Sydney Opera House is amazing and they now run more commercial shows like Les Mis and whole host of Andrew Lloyd Webber type musicals and even pop concerts. They have six theatres, and our guide gave us a brilliant tour with just the right amount of information. My tour cost $37.00 which I thought was reasonable. A show cost something like $80 - $100 which is comparable with West End tickets. On the tour it was just me and two elderly Danish couples. When we got to the bit about the architect, he was Danish, and how he'd fallen out with the Australians after many difficulties over many years. He left the project and never returned to see the Opera House completed – one of the Danish women began to cry... (sad, but not what you'd call devastating) strange what moves people.

In one of the corridors I was surprised to see a picture of a young Arnold Swartzeneger posing and receiving his trophy for winning Mr. Olympia in 1980 - it was held at the Sydney Opera House. Then the penny dropped and it seemed apt that the artist back on Bondi was probably doing his wall art, commemorating 35 years for Arnie's win in Oz.

When standing on the steps of the Opera House looking dead ahead is the Botanic Gardens and to the right is a stunning view of all the chic restaurants and outdoor cafes running around the curve of the harbour. We headed to Circular Quay, the transport hub, and had lunch while watching the ferry boats busily loading and unloading passengers after which we boarded the ferry ourselves to Manly and thoroughly enjoyed getting yet another dynamic view of the Opera House as we moved away under the Sydney Harbour Bridge, another brilliant structure. Manly is a well known upmarket suburb full of very expensive property.

 

Back at Circular Quay we boarded one of the double decker trains for our trip back to Bondi and we couldn't help but be impressed. The train was clean, on time and everyone got a seat, even at rush hour and the cost of rail travel seemed to be very reasonable. The transport system throughout Australia is government owned, no privatisation and that I believe is where we in this country went wrong.

 

Back at the Quest we collapsed, exhausted from all the walking. Day three we headed back into the centre of Sydney and took a trip up the Sydney Tower Eye, getting a real birds eye view of the whole city. When we got out of the lift we were ushered into a side room where they ran a short 3D film. It felt so real with a parrot flying (appeared to be) in and out of the screen and sharks and surfers coming up close and personal, a spray of water over us just to add to the reality. The view from the tower was spectacular and we could identify most of the landmarks from the Opera House to Darling Harbour, which was our next port of call.

Darling Harbour is surrounded by hotels, apartment blocks, restaurants and plenty of interesting places to attract the many tourists. On the day we visited it was a bank holiday weekend and the whole area was buzzing with a latin  american extravaganza with lots of vibrant dancing and music coming from all quarters.

We stayed one night with Alex and Tess in their new apartment in Cronulla, about an hour south of Sydney which we really appreciated, considering that they'd only just moved in. They were so hospitable giving us a bed for the night and cooking our breakfast the next morning. Cronulla which boasts one of the longest stretches of beach in Sydney with miles of golden sand and lively surf is where Tess grew up; its a popular place for visitors and a great place to live if you can afford it.

We had a bit of a whistle stop tour of Sydney but I saw enough to know what the attraction is and why people flock there to visit and if they're lucky to live. It's a beautiful city in a beautiful climate.

Alex kindly dropped us back at Sydney Airport where we hired a car for the next leg of our journey. Our plan was to take our time driving up the east coast back to Brisbane.

 

　

　

 

 

Brisbane – QLD Coastline and Mountains

 

The Glass House Mountains

When we headed up into the mountains, like The Glass House Mountains or Maleny, there was much reference to the 'hinterland' which I soon discovered is a german word, meaning the land behind a city or port, which, once you're in it makes sense. Much of the hinterland, thats the forest and mountains of Queensland's Sunshine Coast is either National Park or botanical garden, preserving both wild life and plant species. We drove up to the Glass House Mountains amid stunning scenary and within less than an hour you could feel the temperature drop which I have to say was a relief. One day you can get up and the temperature feels pleasant, then within no time it becomes baking hot. Perhaps I felt a little more sensitive having come from such a cool climate. The mountains were named by Captain Cook in 1770 as the peaks reminded him of the glass furnaces in his home county of Yorkshire. The mountains have been used for many years for bushwalking, climbing and horseriding, although we didn't actually do any of that. It's a great place to go to get out of the heat of the city. Charlotte and Brian have had a few short breaks up there and really rate it. We can see why.

For the next couple of weeks we spent 'quality' time with Charlotte and Brian and had some lovely days out exploring the sunshine coast of Queensland.

We alternated between eating out and cooking at home. Ray did most of that, because he does it so well. We were impressed with the local supermarket, Woolworths, not the same as our now defunct woolies. Australian shopping is very Americanised. The suburbs, like Charlotte's have a mini mall where you can do your food shop, like Woolworths, and there are a few small shops within it. A short drive away from their house is a huge shopping mall called North Lakes, where you can buy everything and anything and its all air conditioned, which in QLD come the summer months is an absolute must.

The Pub culture in Australia is a whole different ball game to home. Every town and suburb will have a pub(s), usually called a Tavern and in there you can drink, eat, gamble and watch sport. However, everything is separated. When Charlotte and Brian took us to the local Kallanga Tavern to eat there was a huge restaurant area, with very good reasonably priced food. Everywhere is geared for families. The bar and sports things were in a separate place and then there's a room for the 'pokies' as they are known. This is where you can play on the slot machines (poker I assume is where pokies comes from) this is big business in Australia and gambling is apparently a problem – I wonder why? The first meal I had there, a fish platter, was delicous, including homemade chips and lightly battered kalamari. We did go into a few of these places while in Australia and it's like they've taken the Working Men's Club model from home and upgraded it x 100.

 

Redcliffe

On one of our days out we went to Redcliffe, in the Moreton Bay area. The sunshine coast is awash with picturesque little towns full of holiday homes and retired people and Redcliffe is no different. The locals, like everywhere, appeared to embrace the outdoor living and were taking full advantage of the fine weather on the day we visited. Redcliffe advertises a Whale Watching expedition and we thought we'd check it out at the Tourist Centre. We were told that he season was coming to an end even thoug the whales were still migrating, usually by October it's all over. The chatty lady did ask us if we intended to visit the BeeGee Way. Puzzled I asked her 'what's that?” We were delighted to discover that when the Bee Gees's arrived in Australia in the early 60's with their parents on the £10 pom deal they'd settled in Redcliffe, where they did most of their growing up. The Bee Gee Way was opened by Barry Gibb in 2012 - it's a 50 metre laneway, showcasing pictures and album covers from over the years. With their music playing and their whole history mapped out, it was really enjoyable and a complete surprise. I knew there was an Australian connection with them but didn't realise that's where they came from. Who knew?

We found a tea shop in Redcliffe, run by an English woman. We were tempted in by the notice in the window that she had Melton Mowbury pork pies. Ray had the pork pie salad and said it was okay but a far cry from the 'real deal.' The whole place was a bit grubby. Our tea arrived and that was fine but my tuna mayonnaise sandwich was almost inedible. The brown bread was past its best and the filling was warm and sloppy, bursting with cheap mayonnaise; One bite made me gag. We should have complained I suppose but we didn't. Most places where we've eaten along the way Ray has written up a comment on trip advisor, the good along with the bad. The English Tea Shop didn't get much of a rating Not a very good representation of an 'English Tea Shop.'

 

What's In a Name?

From the day we arrived in Australia I was fascinated with the mix of very english names popping up on every other street sign and then the indiginous aboringinal ones, which I had a bit of trouble pronouncing – initially. Kallanga, Murrumba, Caboolture, Petrie and Caloundra, to name a but a few and that's just around where Charlotte lives. After a couple of weeks names and places begain to feel more familiar and of course names like Redcliffe, Scarbrough and Moreton Bay blended in seamlessly with the indiginous ones. The Bruce Highway has to be the most 'in your face' aussie name imaginable. I love that. The aboriginal names give Australia the dignity and sense of place it needs and they fit... without question.

 

Story of the Cat in the Night Time

Charlotte was a bit obsessed with little Hank and nervous about his venture into the outside world (the garden). Brian, who grew up with cats, was trying to coax her into allowing him out to do what a cat has to do. He would take him into the garden during the day and play with him and keep an eye out. However, one night he escaped (Hank, not Brian) and Charlotte was upset, worried that he'd run away, get run over (they live in a cul-de-sac) and of course she blamed poor old Brian. It was bed time and it was agreed that we'd all go to bed and Hank would surely return in the morning. But, seeing how upset she was her Dad went out in search of the missing kitty. He found him in next doors garden. This happened again on a couple of ocassions during our visit and as Hank grew bigger and stronger he could easily climb up the high fence and was as crafty as a fox when it came to watching for a crack in the patio door. I'm pleased to say that almost two months on Charlotte reports that Hank the cat is now allowed out and he comes and goes as a cat should, preferring not to stay out all night. Yet!

 

Rodeo

A Rodeo was in town, not too far away, so we got tickets for the show.

I don't know if anyone saw the road trip that John Bishop did a year or two back to Australia. He went to a Rodeo and interviewed some of the riders, a good many of them just little boys. He was horrified that the Dads let the kids take part in such a dangerous activity and I'd have to agree with him now that I've seen it up close. Again, it was a real family affair and the riders ranged from little kids to adults. The kids were riding calves but it all looked quite scarey and they do get hurt. But, like one of the Dad's said on the John Bishop documentary 'it's in the blood, they want to do it – it's what we do.' It's probably more a case 'it's what's expected' and surely some of those boys would rather be doing something less painful, like table tennis or knitting. Unfortunately none of my pics turned out.

 

Another Visitor

My newphew, Alex (my brother Barry's boy) had been travelling in Australia and once he'd completed his farm work, to enable him to stay a second year, he was dropping in to stay with Charlotte and Brian. It was great to catch up and find out what he'd been up to. He'd been working hard on a flower farm in QLD and was travelling back down to his girlfriend who lives in Sydney. Because we were in the middle of the Rugby World Cup Alex did phone ahead to ask Charlotte did they have Foxtel, (sports channel) which they do. Many matches were watched over that week-end and beer consumed. The live matches were on in the early hours. Sadly, England and Ireland were knocked out and Australia went on to the final to play the All Blacks (NZ) who did in the end win. No big surprise there then.

With Charlotte going back to work we decided to make plans to fly down to Sydney, where we'd stay a few days and then hire a car and drive back up the east coast taking in all the sights. We were looking forward to Sydney and hoped that it lived up to our high expectations.