Wiser on Wednesday/the stolen generations

Bondi

Bondi beach

Surfers on Bondi beach

For those who want to swim rather than surf at Bondi

Elaine writes: Sydney may be cosmopolitan and in the most beautiful setting but there is something about it that makes me uneasy. When Bob asked me what I thought of it, I said that I thought that it was a city busy trying to forget. This feeling was affirmed when Stephen and I went the Museum of Australia with Ruth on Wednesday morning. First we looked at the many creatures that inhabit Australia, how they have adapted to their environment, which ones are poisonous (far too many) and something about their evolution.

Then we moved on to a very thorough exhibition about the indigenous peoples of Australia which included both the Torres Straits people and what we might call aboriginal people. The exhibition was wonderful with full representation of the spirituality, culture, archaeology and art of these people. Aboriginal people have lived in Australia for over 60,000 years, maybe even twice as long. Their whole outlook, lifestyle and spirituality was based on understanding the land to be sacred and that humans do not own the land but the land owns them. It was harrowing to read how white western people not only destroyed this fine balanced way of living but took away the culture and sense of belonging from generations of aboriginal people. From the beginning of the 20th century right up until 1969, Aboriginal children were forcibly removed from their families and made to live in schools and foster families. Here, under often harsh regimes, they would be taught the white way of life and encouraged to marry or have relations with white people in order to finally eradicate aboriginal culture and identity from Australia. Sometimes babies were snatched from their mother’s arms and many, many children were physically and sexually abused. Some have never been able to find their families or their people even though agencies have now been set up to help them do so and many suffer from mental ill health as a result of the treatment and abuse they suffered.

In the eighties, the government passed a motion that an apology should be given to the aboriginal peoples of Australia but it was not until earlier this year when Kevin Rudd was the newly elected Prime Minister that an official apology was forthcoming. One of the first things Kevin Rudd did when he took office was to decree a sorry day and a copy of the official apology was displayed in the museum. What struck me as I read this were the words to the effect: the purpose of this act is to remove the stain on the nation’s soul.
It is this stain which so disturbed me. Although Maori/ White relations have suffered from western exploitation in New Zealand, there does not seem to have been the same degree of abuse of Maori people and they seem more able to keep their discrete identity in the face of western influence.

I think that aboriginal people have suffered so dreadfully because their culture is quite at variance with capitalism. Many aboriginal people are paid dole money nowadays which they call “sitting down money”, because it prevents the necessity of going walkabout to find food and exchange goods.
We were very glad to have seen this exhibition and I would like to learn more about “dreaming” as a concept and how it ties in with our views of the contemplative spirit. We returned to Mosman a little bit wiser and shopped to make a Ruth and Bob a farewell meal for our last night with them.

Stephen writes: Elaine is too modest to mention that the farewell meal that she cooked was a wonderful feast of pumpkin soup with harissa and rouille; rack of lamb with wild mushroom risotto, asparagus and creamed leeks followed by banana and rhubarb compote with panne forte. Better even than Bob’s splendid cooking. A good job Ruth’s keep fit regime was ever present. I’ve only put on one and a half Kg since we left London.

We were sad that this was our last full day with Ruth and Bob, but after learning about the plight of Aborigine families in the "stolen generations" exhibition, having a daughter and son in law in Australia, who are able to be visited and are in easy contact via telephone and internet doesn’t seem nearly as bad as it first appeared. But we will still be saving soon for a return visit.

Blue Monday

Gum tree

Three Sisters

Ruth and view from Three Sisters

Away from the crowds at Three Sisters - This is what we mean by an "easy walk"

Bottle brush bush

Plateau at Wentworth falls

This Monday was the first day of our last few days remaining in Australia but we were determined not let them pass without some adventure. So Ruth, Stephen and I set off for the Blue Mountains that morning. They are about one and half hours drive from Sydney but Ruth wanted to try and avoid the many tolls on the way and I expertly navigated her away from the main toll roads. So expertly, that it took us nearly two and half hours instead of one and half! By the time we arrived at our destination which was at the far end of the tourist route, it was nearly lunchtime but we decided to look at the Three Sisters rock formation and the surrounding valley first. The area is wonderful and the view spectacular. Again, it reminded me of similar views in Wales or the welsh border but on a massive scale. Everywhere you gaze are miles and miles of bush and you look with awe and wonder, knowing that beyond the mountains there are miles and miles more, then even more miles of scrub and desert in the outback. My small island upbringing had not given me insight into such vastness. The Blue Mountains are not blue because of the gum trees, as we had been led to believe but because of what is called the Raleigh effect. It is where the light waves in the blue end of the spectrum get scattered and spread out by bouncing off molecules in the atmosphere- the same reason that the sky itself is blue.

The area was besieged with tourist buses of mainly Japanese people, one of whom asked Ruth, in the usual polite manner, to take a photo of them in front of the view. We smiled as an Old London Routemaster bus drove up, emblazoned with some words like: “Australian Scenic Tours”. It slowed down long enough for people to take a picture through the windows, then, it drove away! We managed to find a short walk away from the crowds in which to enjoy the scenery more tranquilly, apart from the distant sound of a didgeridoo played by a rather alarming looking aboriginal man who had obviously sought out the wild and hairy look as a means of making good money. Many a tourist was photo’d alongside him in exchange for some cash. I hated the token bits of aboriginal “culture” we witnessed in various places. It seemed to demean the worth of the people themselves- rather like looking at a bearded lady in a Victorian peepshow.

We sought out lunch in the local café but obviously the area is so popular with tourists that they don’t have to try and attract them with food and the cafe only had a few limp sandwiches on offer. So we drove on to Katoomba for lunch, before we embarked on one of Ruth’s “easy walks” at Wentworth falls. The town was well supplied with café’s (and Hippies- it was an Australian, Hebden Bridge) but I chose one that seemed to have the right ambiance. It was called ‘The Blue Hour’. Unfortunately, it had a chef that thought he was an artist as well as a cook. We ordered three salads and after an hour, we were still gazing longingly while the chef twirled and arranged and lovingly presented our food. There was only one other person wanting food in the café, so he wasn’t overworked but obviously took his work very seriously indeed. I ordered a pear and blue cheese salad. This came with, pancetta, figs, pine nuts and a wonderful mix of green leaves and a honey, mustard dressing. It was a bit like a very star spangled evening dress- rich and a bit gaudy, but hey, we’d waited so long I’d have enjoyed anything. It was just as well that we were so fortified by our salads because the walk that Ruth took us on was very strenuous indeed.
It seemed to have been the fate of our walks that the authorities had closed the easy walk for refurbishment everywhere we went. So we had to take the combination of the easy and medium walk to Wentworth falls. I thought the easy walk was difficult enough but was unprepared for the very strenuous ups and downs of the next phase. Stephen, mindful of my lack of fitness kept suggesting we turn back but I wanted to keep on and see the falls. In the end, after walking for over two hours we had to admit defeat and to turn back. It was getting late and we didn’t want to be climbing back up in the dark. Ruth had already seen the falls and we did catch sight of some of the water tumbling over the plateau but not the falls themselves. The view was spectacular and the sound of birds from the verdant valley lifted up to where we stood overlooking it all from above the canopy. We watched some sulphur crested cockatoos wheel and call across the valley and were glad that we had been able to enjoy the place as much as we could manage. The walk up was a different matter. At one point, I thought that Ruth and Stephen should leave me there to die in peace but Ruth coaxed me up them there hills with her usual insistent charm and determination that makes her such a good personal fitness trainer. Another year of her work and I might become a new woman!

After a shorter drive back to Sydney via the toll roads, we enjoyed a Vietnamese stir fry that Bob had prepared for us before he’d gone off climbing on an artificial rock face with a friend. (They are keen on physical activity, these Ozzies.) The amount of chilli in the dish certainly put a zing in our spirits and perked us up after the day’s exertions.
However, I was pleased to discover the following morning that although my tum suffered from a surfeit of chilli, my limbs felt OK after the exertions of the walk. I must be getting fitter!

On the move again

Millie, as painted by Leon + Elaine's lilies

Bindi and Tasha - Vanessa and Leon's current dogs

On Sunday Vanessa drove us into the city centre so that we could go to Christ Church St. Laurence. Both Elaine and I had asked people in the UK where to worship in Sydney and we were both advised that this was the place to go. As it was a feast day – Christ the King – we got a procession as well as virtually everything else that you care to name, including white gloves for Crucifer and Acolytes and birettas for Sacred Ministers: very old fashioned catholic, but beautifully well ordered worship, enhanced by a wonderful choir who have sung in Westminster Abbey. ( Elaine: It was a long time since I had knelt for the incarnation bits in the creed, heard the gospel sung AND recited the Angelus at the end of mass. There were so many bells and smells that it was hard to take it all in but the overall effect was one of beautiful transcendence which is some thing we often lose in all our “nave friendly” worship.)

We, unwisely, went in to town by car so Vanessa only just made the service in time after searching for a parking space, then we had a very tedious drive and another long hunt for a parking spot so that we could get to the Rocks Market, but the wait was worth it. Not only had the morning rain finished by the time we arrived, but the market was full of all sorts of Australian made goods which could easily have tempted us to spend a fortune. Thankfully the weight restrictions on the plane tempered our buying, but that didn’t stop us trying yet another Australian ice cream at Manly later in the afternoon. Elaine has been very successfully operating a “never try the same flavour twice” policy. We were originally going to have tea and cake, but the shops we wanted to visit were all closed or full and then Leon rang to invite us out for a farewell evening meal, so no cake just ice cream (Elaine: Hazelnut and cappuccino flavours that time!).

Elaine writes: we went to an Indian Restaurant local to Vanessa and Leon in Seaforth but first we had to pack up as we were moving back to Ruth and Bob’s flat for the last few days. Vanessa’s house had some lovely mod cons, including the most spectacular bathroom designed by Leon, with walk in shower room and HUGE bath on a platform. The loo alone cost thousands of dollars and although as loos go it didn’t look very different from many others I’ve used, it was certainly one of the most comfortable!

Leon is a gardener designer and landscaper by trade and he does all the work from design to construction and planting himself. He has a great deal of creative talent and is in the process of designing a garden to go with a Frank Lloyd Wright style house that one of his clients is having built. We had great fun talking about plans for gardens. Their house is filled with all sorts of interesting decorative touches. Vanessa is not allowed to buy so much as a cushion without consultation. Leon also paints and you see a photo of one of his paintings of their dog Millie next to some lovely lilies that he bought me as a welcome present.
We had a good meal together, all ordering one dish then sharing. Stephen did not care for the seafood curries but enjoyed the other veggie and meat curries. Then we said goodbye to Leon and Vanessa and moved back to Roo’s flat. The one regret I have about our time with Vanessa and Leon is that I did not have a ride on his Harley Davidson

Keep fit with chips

Stephen and Leon putting the world to rights, + Bob cooking in the distance

Bob in "his" kitchen, taking a break from preparing our feast.

Vanessa, Ruth and dips

Elaine went Christmas shopping on Saturday morning to get presents for Ruth and Bob. It is really hard to remember that Christmas is close. There are decorations up here, including snowmen! They are not as extensive as in London and the combination of permanent shorts, t shirts and sun cream rather hinders the thoughts of what Birmingham tried to call Winterval.

So in the afternoon we went for a more seasonal coastal walk from Curl Curl to Dee Why. Yes, they really are the names of two local coastal resorts. We started by walking through the water for the length of Curl Curl beach, which was beautiful but virtually deserted. Showers had been forecast and people seem to prefer the big famous beaches – Manly and Bondi – all the better for us! The far end of the beach was rocky with a bathing pool created out of the rocks and waves crashing violently against the headland. We climbed to the top of the cliffs and walked through the bush, getting a series of spectacular views of the sea whenever the path came close to the edge.

We were tired by the end of the walk, but Ruth was not impressed by my chips and Elaine’s fish in breadcrumbs with which we rewarded ourselves for our efforts. But we still had space for Bob’s splendid roast chicken and Ruth’s delicious brownies which they made for us and for Vanessa and Leon that evening.

Elaine’s version of events. To say that we were tired at the end of the walk was an understatement! Ruth’s description of a short walk is somewhat different to other people’s. Her treatment of me was rather like the way we encouraged Jonathan up the Sugar Loaf mountain when he was two years old: “Just get to that rock there, Johnny, and we’ll give you a Polo” With Ruth it was: “not long now, mum, just round that corner” The problem was that the path was very up and down with very steep steps. Bob was very gentlemanly and held out his hand to help me up steep places with the familiar refrain: “Cum on Mother-in law.”

I must say, it felt fabulous when we eventually arrived at our destination but my legs did not feel at all fabulous that night nor the next day!

Hunter Valley Gardens

We think these are called Angel's Trumpets

Frangipani blossom

We've forgotten their names but Stephen thought they looked like dandelion clocks

There be dragons

Mad Hatter's tea party

We spent Friday morning at Hunter Valley Gardens. I hope that the pictures will convey something of its variety and beauty. It was arranged into a series of themed gardens. Formal, Oriental, Rose, Chinese etc and included a Storytellers Garden with many Nursery Rhyme characters. As it was very hot and that was the furthest away from the entrance we had intended to give that one a miss, but did in fact get there and were pleasantly surprised to find that it was worth the effort, which is more than can be said for the café, but it did at least provide us with shade and some cool drinks.

Elaine writes: It’s hard to describe the beauty of the gardens. There were so many interesting and unusual plants to see. I loved walking past the orchard and seeing peaches and nectarines, oranges and other unusual fruit growing happily in the sunshine. After the sleek, ordered vineyards, the gardens were a riot of colour. The Rose garden was just past its absolute best but still the fragrance and beauty of the roses was very enjoyable. There was one lovely rose named after the famous cricketer, Don Bradman. I thought we might try and get one in England to remind us of our visit. Stephen has been reading Don’s biography here and found it a good insight into Australian life. I’ve been reading Sister Mary Mackillop’s biography which gives you quite another insight.

We travelled back to Sydney via Terrigal one of the central coast beaches. We were suffering from the heat by then, but food and a paddle in the sea soon refreshed us and we were home in time to enjoy some of Thursday’s purchases of cheese and wine for supper and a few delicious chocolates.

Thundery Thursday

Stephen and Vanessa in Hunter Valley

The veranda at our B&B at Hunter Valley

Lake in Hunter Valley where we had our lunch

Another view of lake

Hunter Valley sky

If you are going to travel in Australia then choose a cloudy day. We did just that on Thursday as we set off for Hunter Valley – a wine making region a couple of hours north of Sydney. The other important advice is “don’t forget to stop as you pass the best coffee shop in town”, so we did that too, even though we’d only been on the road for half an hour. Elaine thinks that her choice of custard brioche with raspberry topping was best, but she only had a tiny taster of my blueberry cheesecake so doesn’t really know how good it was. Vanessa and I shared the driving through the rain which came from some dramatically dark clouds so we were all fresh when we arrived. The sky had been clear enough, though, for us to see the miles of bush on either side of the freeway for what seemed like over 100km - wonderful and very different from anything that we had seen previously.

We had lunch at a small winery, but didn’t stop to taste the fruit of the vine. There were going to be plenty of other places for that and first we had the important tasks of going to the cheese factory and the chocolate shop to sample and buy some of their wares. Vanessa then carefully guided us to three of the innumerable wineries. The first specialised in champagne and I tried a pink champagne for the first time – very pleasant, but the bank manager decided against me having more than a taste. Then we went to another winery where we were disappointed with their offerings, so quickly moved on. Elaine had been refraining from drinking so that she could drive, but after I had assured her that I’d had no more than half a glass in total she decided to join Vanessa in testing out a variety of white, red and dessert wines at our next port of call. Amid much banter with the man there we decided that nearly everything was too young, too dry or even according to Elaine “dancing”. However the good humoured member of staff had the last laugh as he sold Vanessa and Elaine a bottle each as well as letting me beyond the No admittance sign to photograph all the barrels.

By now the sun had arrived and we drove to our B&B which had exquisite gardens and then after a shower we went into Maitland for dinner. As with the wine, much was rejected, the Thai restaurant, the noisy Irish pub, the food stalls in the late night market, until just when we were about to abandon hope of good food in Maitland we found a lovely little restaurant at the far end of town. Enormous starters and first class lamb and salmon went to make a very good evening. What a shame we had to hop over cockroaches as we made our way back down the High Street, but we did need the exercise after such a good dinner.

Wonderful Wednesday

Houses with wrought iron balconies in Paddington

Vanessa was free on Wednesday so she took us into Sydney for an exploration. We began with Mary MacKillop Place. Mary was Australia’s first Saint who was beatified in 1995 by Pope John Paul II. In her lifetime she was regarded as a troublemaker and an agitator but she contributed enormously to the status of poor people in Australia and their education in her lifetime in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The exhibition was wonderful. It had lots of interactive scenes and foci. The house has the biggest Aboriginal painting in Australia on one of the ceilings which demonstrates a remarkable fusion between aboriginal beliefs and catholic teaching. The room where Mary died is still part of that house and the sense of her spirit and its concern for poor and underprivileged people is very palpable in the place.

After visiting here, we moved on to a gallery selling Aboriginal Art. The gallery specialises in paintings from an area near Alice Springs and shows a rich diversity of styles in its paintings. Stephen bought me a small painting from an area right in the centre of Australia called St Theresa. It reminded me of the ceiling painting in Mary MacKillop House. It transpired that aboriginal people in this area have been influenced by the Catholic faith and their art reflects this inculturation. There is much more blue in the picture, alongside the more familiar earthy tones and black and white. After lunch in Paddington we admired the many lacework balconies on the houses in that area. The houses were originally built for workers in the 19th century but they have now been restored and their wrought iron balconies, freshly painted to become much sought after properties in a fashionable, leafy suburb. Then Vanessa took us for a drive around Centennial Park which was created in 1888, from land used for grazing, to commemorate the first 100 years of Australia. There are avenues of large, well established trees, many of which look over 100 years old. Ruth does her personal fitness training at 6.30am one morning every week here and I must say it’s a beautiful place to work.

Tuesday's calm after the storm

Corner of Chinese garden

Chinese garden with modern Sydney behind

Buddah in chinese garden

Water dragon basking in China (Sydney)

On Tuesday, we had a day to ourselves while Ruth sorted out insurance etc. We took our first Australian Bus to Manly Ferry. It was a very roundabout route but this gave us a great opportunity to look at some of the beautiful houses in Manly. The Ferry from Manly to Circular Quay takes much longer than the Mosman ferry and it was good to linger over a cup of Coffee and watch the water. At Circular Quay we then took a train to China Town. It was fascinating to walk through the streets there and watch a different community go about its business. Chinese people came to Australia in 1880’s during the gold rush and stayed on. We enjoyed the fact that they have retained their strong cultural identity and headed for a restaurant for lunch where we sampled plates of their boiled dumplings for lunch.

After lunch, we walked to the Chinese Garden. It is set in a very busy area by Darling Harbour, surrounded by skyscrapers, yet as soon as you walk inside the garden you encounter tranquillity. The garden was built in the 1980s to commemorate an agreement between Sydney and a province in China. Much of it was built by Chinese people using stone and materials from that country. It is said that natural stones are the bones of the Chinese garden, the water is the blood and the plants are the flesh. Even though hammer drills rang loudly and traffic sped by outside, it was amazing how calming and peaceful the garden was. We spent a long time exploring each facet and inhaling the powerful perfume of the beds of gardenias and star jasmine which grew there, watching the giant carp swim and witnessing a Chinese wedding celebration which was taking place.

On the way back, we walked along Darling harbour and took the ferry there back to Circular quay along under the Harbour Bridge and past the old area called the Rocks and then took the ferry home to Manly.

Monday, bloody Monday

Koala at West Pennant Hills

Kangaroo with Joey

On display

Looking out towards Manly from Dobroyd Head

Sorry, wrong way up! Dobroyd head

Some days you win some days you don’t. Monday was most definitely a non winner. It started well enough. Ruth and Stephen and I set off in the morning to visit a Koala Sanctuary in Pennant Hills.
However, when we arrived there, there was a NO ENTRY sign and it soon became clear that the site had been brought by property developers. After several ‘phone calls we found another Koala Sanctuary in the opposite direction. We could have gone to Taronga Zoo which is very near Ruth but none of us was happy about seeing animals in cages. So we decided to make for the other “Sanctuary”. When we arrived, we soon discovered that we would have been better to visit the Zoo. Although many Koalas were free to roam the trees in the place we visited most of the animals were kept in poor condition with little natural shelter and the birds were in small cages. We were very glad to have seen Koalas but felt that the conditions in the place were horrible and left as quickly as we could. We dove back to Balmoral for lunch which took an age and on the way I managed to pull the zip off Ruth’s handbag.
After a some what morose lunch, we cheered up with a walk round Dobroyd Head which is part of Sydney Harbour National Park, overlooking Manly, with a view from Arabanoo Lookout over the Australian town of Fairlight ( see pic). Abaranoo was an aboriginal man who was captured by the British and kept in chains. His captors said that he adjusted very well to the European way of life but the poor man only lived for about nine months after captivity because, like many aboriginal people who had no immunity to European infections, he fell prey to smallpox and died.
There were some wonderful bush plants and flowers on the walk, including the Sydney Flannel Flower which has petals that feel like winceyette sheets and is quite beautiful (see Pic).
On the way back, we were unfortunate enough to be stationary, waiting to turn right on a major carriageway, when two cars crashed into the back of us. We were all a little shocked and suffered a bit of whiplash as a result but fortunately no great damage was done to our cars nor to ourselves. After returning to my sister’s, I cooked supper in order to unwind. At last we sat down to eat, when my chair completely collapsed and I fell on the floor! Finally, when we thought all the disasters had finished we came indoors and switched on the TV whereupon there was a flash and it blew up! We quickly went to bed.

Sunday is a feast day

We walked to church – St. Luke’s Mosman again, to find the entrance blocked by a group of about 15 young adults and half a dozen children. Baptism parties hardly ever come into church until the last minute. This one was unusual, though, as there were no maternal grandparents there. They were in South Africa arranging the funeral of the baby’s great grandmother, who was included in the prayers and for whom a number of candles were lit. The priest was very good with Angus, though he rightly predicted that he could do something about the fact that Angus was sleeping immediately before he poured the water on his head.

After Mass we stopped off at a couple of stores to buy some essential items that we had identified as being missing from Ruth’s flat, namely a clothes drier and a bottle of bubbly. We also stopped to have a second breakfast in a café. There is something decadent about going out for breakfast, but we are on holiday.

Ruth and Bob had been far more virtuous, playing tennis after their weekly trip to the market and they were already back by the time we returned and very soon Bob was beginning his preparations for a grand Sunday lunch to which Vanessa was also invited. It was feast which I’ll leave Elaine to describe, but suffice it to say that it was to his usual high standard. Perhaps Elaine has been giving him secret lessons.

Elaine: Not at all. Bob is an excellent cook in his own right and has already taught me a few things like how to make wonderful mashed sweet potato! We had this with slow simmered lamb shanks in wine with leeks, and broccoli.

While the food was being cooked Elaine and I began to pack, as later in the day we were going to begin the next stage of our holiday. This time staying with Vanessa, Elaine‘s sister and her husband, Leon, for a week.

Elaine: In the evening, the men watched rugby. Bob, being a Huddersfield man, supports Rugby League which is quite big in Australia. I watched Cinema Paradiso on DVD. It’s a wonderful film, a real tear jerker!

Fish ice cream

I decided to have a camera free day on Saturday so that I could look and appreciate rather than try to capture for posterity. We bought ourselves Day Trippers which give unlimited use of ferries, buses and trains and set off for the Art Gallery of New South Wales. Over a coffee we studied the gallery map and decided that the Aboriginal Section was the one that we wanted to concentrate on, only to discover that it was closed till well into 2009 while the escalators were being replaced. We did find a small section of Aboriginal Art which was marvellous and inspired me to get my drawing things out of the suitcase for the first time this holiday. There was also a gallery of paintings depicting the bush as we have seen it and the outback which we will not have time to get to.

We decided against going in to the special exhibitions – Monet – which Elaine has already seen in London and The Hidden Buddhas, but there were some other beautiful Buddhas that we did see.

We walked from the gallery to the Queen Victoria Buildings (QVB) an extremely grand shopping centre, rather like the Victorian Quarter in Leeds but far larger and far grander. There were four floors with the cheapest being at the bottom and the designer clothes at the top. The Christmas tree went through the centre space and so was on all four floors. We had lunch on the bottom floor and by the time we reached the top it was time for tea, where I had conventional tea and cheesecake, but Elaine had an elaborate Earl grey tea with mauve flowers and green tea ice cream – which she said tasted of fish. There are some advantages in being conservative in choice of food.

By the time we got to the top of the QVB we had gathered so many souvenirs and presents that I had to go back to the basement to find the ATMs and restock the purse and wallet. We will have to abandon our reading material in Sydney to allow for the weight of goods that will be added to our suitcases. The Australian and in particular the aboriginal goods at the QVB were beautiful. If we had more money and a greater weight allowance on the plane I suspect we would be coming back with innumerable pictures and objets d’art. But the point of the camera free day was to remind me to hold everything firmly in my memory. I can take that everywhere and there were certainly many new treasures to enjoy today.

Friday is not fish day

Sadly, Friday was a bit of a wash out for me but Stephen had a better time so I’ll leave him to describe what he did.

Elaine woke with a poorly tummy – funny oysters, dodgy seafood, too much sun or whatever? So the morning was very quiet, but by the afternoon she was well
enough to be left, so I went for a walk down to Balmoral beach and had a lovely swim, then explored the rest of the area, from the headland where we saw the cockatoos last Saturday to under the trees at the far end where Ruth does her 6.30am fitness class.
I did not go back by the route that I’d followed last week with Bob, but decided that a long meander up the hill was preferable to the climb of a thousand steps.

Elaine was definitely on the mend when I got back, but we still decided to abandon
Plan A which had been to meet up with Vanessa for fish and chips, and instead she came round and we watched a DVD – Napoleon Dynamite – full of bizarre humour, including the “listen to your heart” quote that Ben has on his mobile.

Pelican Patrol

Some of the vast selection of fish at the market

giant octopus

Scary perch

Ibis having a scratch

Ever hopeful pelican


After the long day yesterday and the champagne (I don’t think Elaine mentioned that) at the Opera House it seemed like a good idea to have a quiet start to Thursday, so it was late morning before we set off to Darling Harbour for the fish market. As we had been promised, no sooner had we arrived than we saw a pelican at the harbourside eager to share in anything that was discarded. Elaine realised that she had left her camera in the car and as seafood and fish are not my favourites I volunteered to go and collect it. The others went shopping, primarily in search of ingredients for Bouillabaisse for that evening. Mussels prawns and a variety of fish that I didn’t choose to investigate were bought. I was more interested in the Ibis that was hanging around just outside the market and the caption “if it was any fresher it would still be swimming”. The fish certainly looked really fresh – though Elaine’s tummy told a different story the next day. Before the shopping was complete there was time for Ruth, Bob and Elaine to share in a dozen oysters while I enjoyed a flat white (do they sell these in the U.K.? – cappuchino without all the froth) and a double choc cookie. We resisted the temptation (not great for me) to stay at the market for lunch and went back to Ruth and Bob’s, where Bob spent most of the afternoon preparing the Bouillabaise for the evening’s feast which the others all enjoyed, while I relished a fine piece of lamb!

Elaine’s view: The market was an incredible place.. It was like Harrod’s or Selfridge’s fish hall, only ten times over. Each fish hall was owned by a different company who all displayed the vast bounty of the sea in an attractive manner, although not in the massive fish sculptures you see in the above shops in England. They don’t have to because the variety of fish is overwhelming enough. Bob was like a boy in a toy shop, clutching his Rick Stein’s bouillabaise recipe. (Rick Stein Lives in Sydney for some of the year- I can see why). Bob went from hall to hall searching out the freshest, and, being a yorkshireman, best value, fish. There are loads of Chinese and Japanese families at the market. Many are involved in the retail of fish but many others come with their friends to gather and eat vast quantities of fresh shellfish, sashimi( raw fish) or fried seafood. They come armed with chopsticks and dipping sauces and sit by the quayside in the sunshine while the pelicans and gulls wait hopefully in the water below for any tit bits they might drop. I sampled some chinese prawn dumplings which were not very good and Bob and I had twelve fresh oysters with lemon which cost the price of buying two oysters in England. However, I think I must have eaten a rogue one because the next day I was very poorly, although no one else was, so it may have been the prawn dumplings!
Bob is an extremely good cook and he was left to create the boullaibaise. I was allowed to be sous chef and make the sauce rouille, which I have watched Helen make before. Basically this is grilled peppers and chilli made into a paste then mixed with garlic and olive oil and lemon into a garlicky mayonnaise. Its very potent stuff which you put on top of your fish soup and croutons! The resulting soup was amazing and we all, bar Stephen, drained a large bowlful.

Homeward (Sydney) bound

Epiphytes

Climbing Fig at Minnamurra Rainforest Centre

Stephen in the Rainforest

On Wednesday, we had to make an early start home as Bob had bought us tickets for the Sydney Opera House that evening. We had time, however, to visit the pottery in Kangaroo Valley which also sold a whole host of beautiful craft wares and to buy a few souvenirs to bring home. Bob hates to retrace his steps, so we came back via a different route, visiting a rainforest centre on the way. We enjoyed the rather strenuous walk through the valley where we enjoyed the sight of massive climbing figs, numerous plant species that we have for house plants in this country, like Monstera Delicosa ( Swiss Cheese plant) which grow to great height in their natural environment and abundant epiphytes, like stag’s horn fern, which hung gracefully from the trees. Ruth and Bob did an even more strenuous walk and then rushed back to find us sitting quietly enjoying the sights and sounds of the forest.

We had hoped to see a Lyre bird here too and luckily on the way back to the exit, Ruth spotted one and Bob and Stephen managed to catch sight of it too. Apparently, Lyre birds are great mimics and will imitate the sound of chain saws and all sorts of sounds in the forest. They also have a fascination for the colour blue and will line their nests with any blue things they can find - which often means bottle tops, wrappers, etc.

The only other wildlife that we spotted on this trip was an echidna by the roadside. Echidnas are like little porcupines with long, pointy snouts. This one refused to turn round so we only saw its backside as it shuffled along. We drove on to Robertown which is a big dairy farming area to a wonderful dairy which sold a huge range of Australian and foreign cheeses, lovely ice creams and served meals. After a plate of healthy salad, I indulged in a wickedly delicious cornet of passion fruit and coconut ice creams.

After that there was no time to linger any longer and we headed straight back to Sydney. There was time for a short rest then a shower and we got dressed up for the ballet. It was wonderful crossing the harbour by ferry at night. Sydney harbour looks even better in the dark, with illuminated ships and buildings. Unfortunately, my camera was not good enough to capture this so you’ll just have to come here yourselves or see the photos from Stephen’s SLR when we get back.

Sydney Opera House, like many iconic buildings, is better from the outside that in. There was a huge number of stairs to climb but the auditorium is lovely in a sleek, minimalist way, which is more stylish than the South Bank concrete, concert halls in London. However, the ballet when it began fell far short of the verve and originality that we have been used to in performances of modern ballet in England. We were disappointed with the first ballet which was supposed to be about the differences between night and day. I thought it was about winter dying and spring coming to life and felt it was very expressive of the symptoms of depression - but then, I have a very good imagination!
However, the second ballet was based on a classical myth in which a god falls in love with a human woman and his wife finds out and tricks the God into revealing his immortality at which point the human dies. The dancing was lovely, original and very well executed, particularly by the goddess. The only disappointing thing was the revealing of the god’s divinity which was done with a giant fan heater and a lot of silly dancing with his cloak. I reckon they could have thought of something better than that!
The final piece was about looking at otherness in everyday life. It was very good. All the dancers wore beautiful turquoise costumes and the set was surrounded by mirrors and florescent lighting ( very Lacanian-the mirrors, I mean!) We all enjoyed this piece very much. So, they saved the best wine until last and we came away having had a good evening, even if it did not quite match up to the sparkle that one experiences when watching Ballet Rambert or the like. Apparently, Darcy Bussell has made her home in Sydney now and will act as an advisor to the Australian National Ballet, so let’s hope she can impart some of her great passion to them.

Day 2 in the bush

The elusive Lyre bird

Gang, Gang Cockatoo females

A rocky outcrop at the falls

Fitzroy Falls

Ruth and Bob at Fitzroy Falls

We had a refreshing sleep at our Motel and then drove in the car back to the campsite to join Ruth and Bob for a camper's breakfast. Food always seem to taste better in the open air and fortunately the Kookaburras seemed to be late risers, so we were undisturbed while relishing bacon and eggs. It was then time to tidy up camp and make for Fitzroy Falls. This was a large area of bush on a plateau on which there were some spectacular walks to different waterfalls. These were not as spectacular as they might have been as there had not been any substantial rain for sometime. Nevertheless, the scenery was striking. Rather like looking over Symond's Yat but on a much larger scale. I managed the first couple of walks but felt too hot and tired to manage the longest so the other three went on and I wandered slowly back. However, I did not miss out beacuse as I walked in silence I was able to spot some of the shyer birds of the forest. there was a family of Gang Gang cockatoos. These are largely, a dull grey but the male has a splendid red crest. unfortunately he flew off before I could get a photo. There was also the bright flash of crimson Rosellas flying through the forest but they too were too fast for my poor photographic skills. I had been hoping to see a lyre bird but had not held out much hope as they are notoriously shy. However, I did pray about it before I went on my lone walk and to my joy, I was beckoned over by a couple who had seen one scrabbling through the undergrowth. After they left, I stayed for ages watching it digging for insects in the leaf mould. Eventually, it walked out into the sunshine in front of me and onto a fence but then dropped rapidly into the shelter of the wood before I could catch it on film. All I have are some rather inadequate shadowy images of it but so glad to have seen one. In the high and far off times of my childhood when I collected picture cards from PG Tips packets, I was entranced by the image of a lyre bird, never believing I would eventually get to see one in real life.

The day was a realy hot one so we had a siesta in the afternoon and then Stepehn had a dip in the motel pool to cool off. Ruth and Bob did the same in the river at their campsite. The day ended with another camp supper and the sight of more Kangaroos and Wombats.

Having done the whole walk with Ruth and Bob, I (Stephen) was certainly appreciative of the rest afterwards. I thoroughly recommend a pattern of Sleep, Swim, Shower, then a drink in the pub over the road. Perhaps I'll try it on a daily basis when I get home. Just need to change the British weather a bit and rearrange the demands of work.