Tramping tales for October 2008

Moenie worry nie! We were fortunate to find a Library in the very next town of Kilcoy, allowing us to connect up our laptop and send off our September blog with no problems. We saw out the last two days of that month in carefree manner enjoying blue domed skies, back wearing our familiar easy wear summer gear and finding many perfect camps that so suit the Begg lifestyle! A delightful spot on a lonely showground in Blackbutt, a well run Bushcamping Park in Kilkivan (despite an incident that tickled George’s creative juices to follow!) to a perfect position beside the Mary River at Petrie Park just outside Tiaro.

We were ready to roll. Our 20 point pre-departure “flight check” had been completed (gas off; TV aerial down; brake system connection; ….) Lea was patiently awaiting the driver in Skiv. As I started the engine, my door not yet closed, a large huntsman spider disturbed by all this unexpected activity suddenly appeared, crawling as fast as its long legs could carry it down the inside of the driver’s door.

Lea can move with extreme rapidity when she has to, the problem on this occasion was that she was held fast by her safety belt! With her feet already running on the floorboard and her fingers scrabbling desperately for the release button all I could hear was a number of guttural sounds before her door opened and she last seen was running into the blue yonder.

I consider it fortunate that I had my hat on at the time because one quick slap enabled me to dislodge the arthropod before it took refuge inside Skiv.
Had this not been the case I have little doubt that we would have to had unpack the vehicle and delay our departure by a few hours.

These things happen now and again and serve to sharpen our senses.

How we bless these little towns that encourage brief “stopovers” in picturesque surrounds with basic facilities in an effort to boost passing trade. Petrie Park, honouring Andrew Petrie’s navigation of the Mary River 166 years ago and finishing at this point allowed a two night stay to travellers and we delighted in this camp even though Getaway had to park on an angle to give us our best view down the hillside onto the river. Young soldiers, doing water based training and river manoeuvres over the two days we were in situ amused us as feminine shrieks and masculine bellows vent the air to create their rowing rhythms. Folk coming and going with their boats on the slipway amicably shared with army activities. A number of houses and cars around Tiaro sport banners, stickers and notices trying to safeguard “Their Mary” from the Queensland Government building a dam to augment Brisbane’s water supply. A sign warning of a $75,000 penalty (we had to read it twice such was our disbelief) for catching a Mary River Cod seemed unreal considering Courts seldom impose anything like that on drunken driving or dire physical assaults! The Mary apparently supports lung fish, a fresh water turtle and this cod as endangered species. Put together with many other concerns, public sentiment is such as to have the potential for political downfall.

A long weekend loomed to end the school holidays and we decided it was safer to find a caravan park in Maryborough to replenish water and stocks and hopefully make contact with the Australian Howman’s living in Hervey Bay. We walked into this historic town, with its colonial buildings reminding us of a Salisbury, Rhodesia from our youth. Found a statue of Mary Poppins outside the house where the author, Pamela L. Travers was born - never stop learning something new! No response to our many calls to the Howman house had us move off next day and before we knew we had reached Bundaberg well ahead of schedule. Mindful of requiring safe storage for Getaway while we spent a week with Saxon, Paul and Talia in their holiday apartment we began at Burnett Heads to ask around and as chance had it, ended up in Bargara a mere 2kms from The Point. Bargara Beach Caravan Park was a perfect setting for us with most attractive walks along the well laid out esplanade and a pretty trail to Mon Repos Beach – Queensland’s best known and most accessible turtle laying beach. We walked the trail late afternoon on our eldest grandson’s 7th Birthday and midway received a mobile call from Otto just waking up in England to power outage and rain. How we wished he was in our idyllic place.

A couple of days later, in happy anticipation, we awaited the arrival of our Perth family driving up from the Gold Coast on the hottest day to date. We were looking forward to relaxing on the beach together only windy, grey skies prevailed thereafter… We were grateful to have a well appointed and spacious apartment with a view of the ocean (it’s not called Wide Bay for nothing as surf pounds volcanic rocks covering the shore below us) rather than being squeezed up in Getaway. When we did set off on touristy ventures, the rain would come down. We managed to visit Australia’s most baffling phenomenon, The Mystery Craters and just see them before a deluge! These 35 craters formed in a large slab of sandstone, siltstone and red ochre were discovered by a local farmer in 1971 beneath a layer of silt and sand. Teams of international geologists have yet to agree on their origins putting offering many theories. We fancied sink holes from volcanic action!

Mystery craters

We tossed up between visits to Bundy Rum Distillery or Bundaberg Ginger beer - The Barrel won out and we enjoyed sniffing and tasting the ginger beer products.
Disappointing weather could not dampen family time. Putt-putt and table tennis matches, walks along the beaches, esplanade and Mon Repos kept us all happy.
Talia entranced us with her rendition of Twinkle Star and particularly Row, row, row your boat which received constant encores from her doting grandparents.

We backtracked south to Woodgate Beach for the last three days and two nights…

Talia had her first experience sleeping in a tent.

At the start of her afternoon nap we could hear Talia mimicking bird calls from the surrounding trees, followed by peals of giggles that could hardly be suppressed despite her mother’s reprimands. Most infectious for us bystanders! This little sponge learner copied everything we said or did. George became Dandan toot-toot due to his trumpeting nose blows. The downside was the cacophony of birds at first light waking Talia at an hour the rest of us did not appreciate.

Paul discovered ant lions during an early morning walk in Burrum Coast National Park. Father-in-law explained their biology and showed him how to test for the presence of a larva by dropping in ants. A fascination of ant lion pits took hold that we’d see three heads with bums in the air inspecting conical pits where ever we went, as Talia joined into the curious activity. Our neighbours recognised accents and introduced themselves. We found new friends in Malawian Jill and Rhodie Jim who’d immigrated over forty years ago.

Finally able to relax on Woodgate beach

Glorious beach weather had arrived until the last night when a downpour had Paul and Lea running around in the early hours, zipping up the tent and saving other items from the wet and wind. We thought the beach kiosk “Woodys” was washed out… On cue, OUT came the sun and we settled on the rather slippery decking for a final breakfast together. Awaiting our order, a bird with heavily painted bright blue mascara swooped down and landed on the back of Talia’s chair and animatedly began to tell her a thing or two! Quite the most fantastic photo opportunity with George perfectly positioned to capture it all. Unbelievably his camera was not attached to his wrist this day! Talia, spellbound by this blue-cheeked honeyeater with its long pointed beak chirping nineteen to the dozen within inches of her face had Saxon agitatedly looking on while threatening the bird with dire consequences should it take out her daughter’s eye.
The sadness of the family departing brought back the rain and jolted us into haring back to the laundry to drag all our wet linen off the line.

Originally, we had all planned to visit Fraser Island only to find it was illegal to fit a car seat in Skiv. Other alternatives proved too costly and the visit was abandoned. We had expected to visit the Hervey Bay Howman’s after our family had gone taking this opportunity to reappraise Fraser Island prospects. Phone-calls to the Howman’s proved fruitless and we contacted Peter to discover his parents were in Brisbane as his father had sadly suffered a stroke. A trip to Fraser Island was feasible and we continued south into the Harvey Bay region. We were fortunate to find well situated Windmill Caravan Park in Urangan, who surprised us with a welcoming a plate of chockie biscuits and teabags. They were happy to look after Getaway for a dollar a day when we went to Fraser and parked us next to a beautifully kept and equipped camp kitchen. That afternoon we made our barge booking out of River Heads and bought the required permits for our trip to World Heritage Area, K’gari, the largest sand-island in the world better known as Fraser Island. Skiv was prepared for our adventure and basic camping supplies bought for our time away.

All we really knew about Fraser’s was lots of sand and aggressive dingoes! We were assailed with a sense of adventure as we reversed onto the barge. Folk reduced tyre pressures during the 30 minute crossing to Wanggoolba Creek – we held off until we disembarked because the steepness of the ramp had caught our tow hitch and bent the bolt protruding below, coming aboard and we needed to keep as much clearance as we could. Lots of heavy cloud around and our arrival on the island didn’t look like much as we engaged in four wheel drive and locked hubs for the duration of our time here before following the sandy corrugated track leading away from the mangroves. In no time we began rising up inland from the West side towards Central Station, tucked away in the rainforest. We assumed by the name that it was the Wildlife Service Headquarters and judging from all the 4x4’s parked, required a necessary stop. Quite the contrary, this historic site had been the centre of a forest industry around the turn of the last century and remnant buildings now used for educational purposes with the surrounds to picnic in and with many walks departing from here. We took a stroll through the rainforest along the Wanggoolba Creek boardwalk amidst impressive picabeen palms, our only regret being no sun to filter down and show up the colours and clarity for photographic purposes. Back in Skiv we slowly rocked and rolled our way along the narrowest rough tracks of the 30km Southern Lakes scenic drive – finding ourselves glad to take in the breaks and steady our bodies with walks to see Lake Birrabeen, an amazingly clear perched lake within glistening white sands. It just lacked a blue sky to enhance its colour. Later, our visit to Lake Boomanjin contrasted with its waters stained brown by tannins leached from all the vegetation. Lea understood how their elevation gave rise to the classification perched lakes but couldn’t understand why the water didn’t drain away through the sand until George explained that beneath the floor of the lake lay an impervious layer of organic debris.

Lake Boomanjin, the largest perched lake in the world

It was here we were somewhat horrified by the little fenced in camp ground resembling an internment camp! Everything dingo proofed and warning notices everywhere.

Look out for dingoes;
Always stay close to your children, even small teenagers;
Walk in small groups;
Stand back to back if approached and don’t make eye contact. And More…

Mercy! Lea began to a distinct uneasiness about the dingoes of Fraser and kept her eyes peeled. We approached Dilli Village only to find it was a well protected place and not easily accessible that we continued on to the Eastern Beachfront. With no tide tables available George made a rough estimate of his own. Optimal times for driving the 75 mile long beach are two hours either side of low tide. He walked down to inspect - All was well for nipping into Govi Camping zone looking out across a vast expanse of ocean to eat our lunch. One of many informal camping areas tucked just behind the fore-dunes offering no facilities other than “a quiet wilderness experience”. QUIET? Not a bird to be seen or heard, just the steady thump and whoosh of the waves. Curiosity to see more took us northwards along the beach. Up until now we’d hardly seen a soul. While out on this beach highway, we encountered heavy traffic- all speeding along. Beach buggies, 4WDs towing boats, some even with caravans, buses of all sizes, trail bikes and to cap it all, we shared the beach with light aircraft landing and taking off. The speed limit was 80km/hr and it was quite an odd sensation to have vehicles nonchalantly passing us slow coaches, when we found ourselves cringing on occasions at the noise arising from our bed boards slamming down as we bounced through unexpectedly sharp edged creek wash-outs. We turned into Happy Valley and found a dingo fence being erected as we crossed over an electrified grid. Inside the protected area many day trippers, chiefly 4WD tour groups of international youngsters stopping at the shop for refreshments plus a holiday resort. We continued on but after a while dodging vehicles with nothing but sand and sea, stretching away became quite bland that it was pleasing to reach Poyungan Rocks and have to do a short inland detour. We were stunned by the congestion of people and vehicles around Eli Creek that we simply bypassed this Fraser landmark and Maheno Wreck was almost as bad – the traffic just moved off faster. We were lucky that a couple of buses were pulling out as we drew up. Sunlight had come out briefly and the tide had only just turned to enable us to get up close to this ex WW1 hospital ship that had seen out its working days in 1935 and sold for scrap. En route to Japan, stormy weather broke the tow rope and Maheno was washed ashore.

During WW11 the RAF used the Maheno for target practice!

Lighting was not good at The Pinnacles and we realised it was time to choose a camping zone for the night. We kept passing the odd large camp of fishermen and steered clear of them! From the barge onwards we had noticed cross generational groups of macho men with off road utes laden with beer, fishing rods and eskies. Seldom did we see one of these blokes without a stubby in hand or parking a pint beside his back wheel - to put it politely! Burad (meaning white bellied sea eagle) camp zone suited us with its grassy patch beneath a pandanus tree backed by high dunes and close proximity to the beach which was no longer characterised by frenetic traffic. Just before dusk George went on a lone walkabout as Lea was too dingo conscious, never mind we hadn’t seen hide nor hair of one all day.

Lea had a fit having to go to bed so early, let alone when shafts of sunlight awoke us at an unearthly hour next morning. George was up with alacrity, persuading his wife to rise and shine, in practice for Mozambique next year! She wasn’t impressed. He needed another tactic - low tide and an ominously large bank of cloud sitting across the horizon looking to be rolling our way, did the trick.

The Burad camp outlook!

Thus at 5a.m. we were travelling back along the beach – in a world all our own, stopping at Red Canyon and The Pinnacles to look more closely at the coloured sands that characterise these features before pulling into Eli Creek. A beautiful place with a carefully constructed boardwalk leading up stream to an ideal swimming spot clearly warranting the crowds we had noticed the previous day. As we backtracked to Skiv for breakfast we found clear dingo footprints following ours in the wet sand. We hadn’t seen them going but they were there coming back. No dingo could be seen across the wide expanse of sand. We stayed for most of the day relishing having the place to ourselves until at least mid morning.

On the beach at Eli Creek

We became people watchers as folk began to arrive. Finally when the bus loads of day trippers turned up the pressure shortly after 2pm we took off for Cornwells, a camping zone at the start of the Central Lake scenic drive, an inland road that would take us back over to the West coast next day. As dusk fell, cramped on the bed cutting up salad, Lea voiced her disappointment at not seeing a dingo in the only place with a pure strain to George, standing at the back of Skiv helping prepare our supper. This led to pondering whether the powers of media had overly influenced public considering the only documentation appears to be one serious case of a 9 year old boy being killed by dingoes in 2000 and more recently, a 3 year old girl nipped. Here on expensive signage and fencing protection was being put in place in a wilderness area simply to make people feel safe and take the onus off … Swiftly, Lea tapped George on his inwardly bent head and hoarsely whispered “dingo behind you”. George wasn’t about to fall for her tricks BUT sure enough, 12 to 15 metres away, a most handsome dingo was trotting along the camp track showing not the slightest interest in us. As he reached the beach entrance he rose onto the slight fore-dune and surveyed the empty beach. We kinda held our breath in admiration, feeling joy at seeing a proud dingo going about his own business, for an abiding image of our own.

First light had us up and away without complaint to tackle the inland road crawling up the barrier dunes being thrown back and forth that we were glad of safety belts as we made our way to Lake Wabby – this one, a barrage lake. The approach to the lookout caught us by surprise at that early hour of a morning with the glare rising off the spectacular white sand drift that slowly advances to engulf this lake. We could see a group of girls swimming in the deep lake and left them to their piece of paradise and continued on our way.

Sand blow at Lake Wabby

In time for breakfast, we arrived at Lake Boorangoora or McKenzie, as it is more commonly called and ate our cereal staring at the human cage constructed to protect tour groups, lunching there. Campers could find lockups for their property too. No food or food preparation was permitted beyond a certain point! Our meal over, we took the trail through to the Lake and discovered an enticing stretch of water in idyllic surrounds.

George makes the most of solitude despite paparazzi

Obviously an incredibly popular attraction despite limited parking and we soon realised how lucky we were to have arrived there before the tour groups poured in around 10.30. We fled!

Having an open barge ticket to return any time we saw no reason why we should continue back to Wanggoolba Creek if we could depart from Kingfisher Bay. No signal on our mobiles necessitated going there to ascertain whether this would be feasible. We could and were booked on the 2p.m. barge. This attractive resort obviously caters for day trippers coming across Hervey Bay from the mainland towns. Close to Kingfisher jetty a swimming pool is tucked into the forest with picnic facilities and a pavilion, catering for others. We’d passed the local Servo with car washing facilities and with plenty of time to kill George took this opportunity to give Skiv a thorough cleansing and re-inflate the tyres. Once done, we took the resort’s trail up to its Northern Lookout winding its way through forest, at times we came up against the sturdy anti dingo fence. What a glorious view across the vast expanse of Hervey Bay. We hoped we’d see at least one of the many whales that come in annually to calve. Later we learnt it wasn’t in Hervey Bay itself, but Platypus Bay in the NW of Fraser Island. We’d loved our Fraser experience and came to realise it wasn’t a restful place for parents with young children to explore – NOT because of dingoes! Simply because the enormously bumpy tracks make travel slow and the beach is not only unsuitable for bathing, it becomes a dangerously busy thoroughfare at peak times.

Arriving back at Getaway we found a Park Snag Sizzle in progress around the camp kitchen. We were invited to join but with unpacking and a shower our agenda we only put in a brief appearance at the tail end, when curiosity to meet the faces behind the broad Lincolnshire voices we’d overheard talking about Skeggie and Scunthorpe overcame us! Our opening introduction that we may not talk properly but we came from yellow belly country too, went down a treat. Three“blueys” and the rest were all poms. Almost all were living in “permanents” in Windmill Caravan Park. How odd was that?

We stayed another day to get Skiv’s oil changed and see to laundry. There must have been method behind the madness when MM (mere male) unthinkingly packed our fresh milk for Fraser. It was sour by the time it was found! Lea couldn’t toss it and with camp kitchen oven turned out a batch of Eileen scones and a batch of date scones camouflaged into fruit ones with a few sultanas and frozen for the road. In the afternoon we walked the Hervey Bay esplanade (a particularly pleasant feature maintaining its indigenous woodlands) to the Urangan Pier. This 1917 icon of Hervey Bay was very nearly lost to “stupidity” resulting in the loss of its “end” before folk with foresight rescued the remaining 868m span. It is a splendid pier and judging by the fishermen, pelicans and vast shoals of little fish we could see, not to mention the 8-9kg golden trevally just caught – the pier was well worth saving.

Heading north again, we passed through Childers for the third time and this time, Lea insisted on stopping, as a father’s words “If love alone could keep you safe, we’d never fear a day” had hauntingly engraved themselves in her mind in association with Childers. Fortunately George was keen to buy peanuts from The Peanut Van which made a good excuse to walk the length of this National Trust town with its colonial buildings and ornate facades reminding us of colonial towns in Africa. DECAY SLAYER across one front caught our eye bringing a smile of appreciation at the dentist’s humour. Reaching the well advertised Peanut Van we were given tastes of all flavours of home grown peanuts. While George made decisions! Lea glanced along and noticed peanut erasers. Such was George’s intense interest… it required explaining that his nutty love was whittling peanuts. The lady serving us was immediately intrigued and asked George if he had some as thinking of Christmas presents for her boss was mighty difficult. George said he’d show her as we’d be passing by shortly. Returning on the opposite side of the road we popped into an Art Gallery in The Palace Building and discovered the Palace Backpackers Memorial to the 9 International backpackers who died in a fire that swept though in June 2000. A wall with glass inserts displaying poignant images of each victim befitted their memories. Before we could be our way… George found his carved peanuts in their shells and duly stopped at the side of the road and dashed across to show the lady. She bought both without hesitation. Thus we left Childers elated!

Having stopped in a rest area outside Gin Gin for lunch, we decided to stay put for the night and as the afternoon wore on, more and more fellow travellers pulled in for the night too. Next day we moved on a short distance to Lake Mondurah campground as it boasted a free internet hotspot. Lea had many e-mail waiting to go and more required writing. Technically there is a hotspot and to our disappointment it didn’t work. Obviously the boating fraternity frequenting this campground had no reason to test it out ever. Our next stop was a quiet bush park on the outskirts of Agnes Water and the Town of 1770 that we were keen to spend a few days exploring these beautiful locations. Odd names for two seaside towns in close proximity to each other, each with a story! Lieutenant James Cook anchored in Bustard Bay in 1770. This was Cook’s third landfall in Australia and the first in Queensland thus the claim that Town of 1770 is the birthplace of Queensland. We found the Town of 1770 to have a striking similarity to Cooks Town, further north. Agnes Water owes its name to a ship that went missing (not found to this day) somewhere in these waters. On board was the mother of a future Queensland Premier. We enjoyed many picnic lunches along the foreshores as George’s eye saw much of artistic appeal to get out his watercolours.
Deepwater National Park accessed only by 4WD, gave us a wonderful afternoon admiring the willow like growth form of cabbage palms while another delight, Joseph Banks Conservation Park could easily have been missed, if we hadn’t added on more and more days.

Deepwater National Park track.

Southport Paula had often spoken about the islands off Queensland, where she goes with her walking club. Ideal places to snorkel too that she recommended we visit one. We looked at visiting Lady Elliot only to find the flights were beyond our means for merely a day. Having been on The Great Barrier Reef out of Townsville in January 1995 we felt we were content with that life time chance. However, a poster at the entrance to our Discovery Caravan Park gradually embedded thoughts in our head about cruises over to Lady Musgrave Island. Not only would we walk the Island we could go coral viewing, reef fishing, snorkelling or even scuba dive. We succumbed to advertising, looked at weather and chose our day. Climbed aboard “Spirit of 1770” and headed out of Bustard Bay into the unexpectedly rough swell of the ocean for the next 90 minutes. Contrary to forecasters there seemed far too much cloud on the horizon for our liking but we were not going to allow that to spoil the day. Our pulses quickened at the sight of a picture book calm lagoon surrounded by atoll and a low lying green coral cay fringed in white. Our boat passed through a narrow entrance and tied up to a pontoon with a welcome cuppa and biscuits to steady unsettled tums. A glass bottomed boat took us to the cay, en route giving us more than a glimpse of the treasures in store for the rest of the day - two green turtles contentedly lying in a “cleaning station” within a bommie while wrasse fed off the algae attached to their shells! Cloud kept changing the light intensity and a nippy breeze was about as we stepped on to a shore littered by chunks of broken coral that crunched under foot. Above the Pisonia forest we could see black birds circling around yet nothing prepared us as we stepped into a seemingly prehistoric micro-habitat worthy of a Hitchcock movie. The full impact of all the Black Noddies really grew as we moved deeper into the forest. With no predators these blackish brown birds with a white cap sharply cut off by their black faces and long slender bills hovered and danced around us emitting nasal, rattling ‘chrrrs’ and tern-like ‘kik-kirriks’ as the males sought yellowed leaves for their mates to fussily inspect. Leaves not meeting approval drifted down upon us while others were pasted into rough and scruffy nest shapes with their guano.

No photograph did justice to our Noddy experience.

We had to be very guarded looking upwards to avoid a splatter landing in eye or mouth! Our visit had coincided with breeding season and nest building was almost at peak hence the magic of being engulfed in all the noise and activity taking place at all levels around us. Lea‘s mind kept thinking of her friend Sally back in Cleethorpes who suffers from a severe bird phobia! As a loyal reader of our log, what will she make of this! Our trip would have been worth it if we’d seen nothing else and we could easily have spent hours there. However, the lure of the reef beckoned. Here we were on the southern end of The Great Barrier Reef delighting in an underwater observatory as reef fish of all sizes, living under the pontoon swirled about in a feeding frenzy over pellets; to expeditions out in a semi-sub a couple of times, coral viewing with a qualified marine interpreter.

Low tide in Lady Musgrave Lagoon.

Buffet lunch with more than enough to feed large appetites generated by outdoor activity included lots of prawns. Low tide made snorkelling all the more productive as the turtles and fish were concentrated in deep passages between the coral mass. Despite chilly water no longer appealing to Lea, she took the plunge with the slightly warmer protection of a flotation vest and her usual gasps to join George in another close encounter with nature.

We have certainly had wonderful moments and memories to preserve this month.

Tramping tales for September 2008

Spring sprang with the perfume of wild freesia wafting through the air promising wonderful weather but it wasn’t long before wild winds hammered the coastline over days and Leecy was laid low with a virulent virus. With two down - three if you count Sheldon, Lea could only hope her zinc and Echinacea would ward off the bugs circulating. Definitely not time to rid ourselves of the warm and layered clothing as the wind and rain shook at the house our last weekend in Killcare. We were glad to take refuge in the vintage cinema theatre of Avoca Beach and watch “Up the Yangtze” a documentary on China’s Three Gorges Dam focussing on the human effects of this massive impoundment while Leecy delivered paintings to another Art Show down Sydney way and kept painting for the next of a string that Spring brings.

The pleasures of Central Coast were fast drawing to a close and we found ourselves reluctantly bidding farewell to the many new friendships made over the winter months through Leecy. Our day of departure dawned to a perfect day and Leecy insisted on taking us out to breakfast - it proved to be an extraordinary good breakfast at the aptly named nursery “Impact” down in Empire Bay giving a luxuriant tropical backdrop to quite the most delicious brekky. How hard it was to say good bye…

We returned to Parramatta to spend our last few days with Shell and Keith in readiness for the Eye Specialist. Shock and horror! On arrival George discovered he had missed the appointment that very day. A senior moment imprinted the previous appointment across his mind… The two sisters escaped on the river cat for a day in Darling Harbour wandering in the Chinese Gardens before heading to The Rocks leaving George to sit beside the school phone over the next two days hoping he’d be squeezed into an overbooked schedule despite his faux pas. By strange quirk of fate he was fitted in on the very day and time that had caused the trouble. With his eye pressure having substantially dropped due to correct medication, we were set free to head north until next February’s check up. We are happy to return for that appointment as spring is busting out all over – yet another grandchild is on the way with Saxon and Paul adding to their family. We heed the request to remain flexible in 2009 and will return to Perth in March to help in the lead up to the new addition. Yay!

Saxon's 12 week scan

It has been wonderful to share quality time with sisters after years of living such separate and far flung lives (virtually from school days) that it was sad to pull out of Parramatta and head north along the Pacific Highway. However, a magnificent day and the pull of the road soon had our spirits soaring and within hours it was hard to believe we’d ever been static. We were fascinated to spot a good many fauna crossings. These safe overpasses were suspended high above the road to protect tree climbing creatures.

It took a long time for us to make road friends and when it happened it happened quickly! While touring Tasmania, four couples unexpectedly came together around a power pole. Six months later we were following instructions from one of the Tasmanian “Pole Gang” and easily made tracks to a caravan park in Belmont set beside Lake Macquarie. Not long after lunch we received a call from Tom and Kim to say they were on their way to show us the best of their home turf. Both born and bred with deep roots in the surrounding area we couldn’t have had better guides to show us the secret and scenic lookouts south of Belmont, hear tales of greyhounds and fishermen as well as see the long line of ships out on the ocean awaiting their cargo of coal from Newcastle. Catho, an old coal mining town that seems to deserve heritage listing and yet is a hotbed of controversy after council approved a new housing estate, caught our attention with all the huge banners slung across homes and anti development slogans daubed everywhere. As we passed Catho Pub which appeared to be an institution in its self, we asked about it and discovered that neither Tom nor Kim had ever ventured in as it had been a dominant hangout for the bikey gangs of yesteryear. On our return, it seemed an interesting enough place to quench our thirst.

High tide prevents us exploring the sea caves of Caves Beach

At nightfall Tom & Kim took us back to their home for dinner where we were intrigued by their collections of clocks, teddy bears, doorstop mice, coke bottles and Bundy bears.

King Edward Park in Newcastle was arranged as a good mid-point place for us all to meet up with pole gang’s third couple, Joy and Barry from Nelson Bay. The heat of the previous day unexpectedly changed to gusty winds, rain and drizzle that we had to quickly change into warmer clothing moments before Tom & Kim collected us. Heading north of Belmont, we sat back to enjoy a stress-less tour up to Newcastle via back roads that took us up and over Redhead bluff, where many unfortunate suicides have taken place from this commanding cliff top position. A gazebo awaited our use for the day along with Joy and Barry. During all the talking we indulged in party food of caramel pie, chelsea buns and lollies making a good walk a necessary requirement if we were to manage lunch! Newcastle could certainly provide that as it is the nation’s only city centre with a working harbour bounded by beaches- which imply flat ground but that, it was not! There were plenty of ups and downs between the beaches. We found the area surprisingly free of commercialism but “our locals” were quite disparaging about crime and safety not to mention how little was done to attract visitors to this run down area that potentially had so much to offer. Weather suited us and in turn kept away any crowding that our table was still free on our return for lunch. In next to no time the clock dictated pack up time.

Team photo of three quarters of the Tasmanian Pole Gang.

Afterward Tom and Kim took us through the city showing us landmarks before crossing to Stockton on the other side of the harbour to take the “shipwreck walk” along the breakwall out to the one visible wreck – Adolphe cast up on the edge.

Thanks to Tom and Kim providing us with such a comprehensive overview of Newcastle and its surrounds we pulled out of Belmont with ease and made our way through picturesque areas of Myall Lake National Park to Seal Rock. We’d had good reports of this area and they matched our expectations with a delightful spot in a camping reserve in contrast to the expense of National Park camping. It seems to us that NSW is doing its-self a big disfavour by charging more than surrounding commercial operators to stay in National Park campgrounds. Our carefully tended grassed clearing, fine ablution blocks and barbeque centre had thick tropical greenery rising around the outskirts with beach frontage providing beautiful vistas that as soon as we were settled we felt drawn to explore this relatively isolated and peaceful village. We made our way towards Sugarloaf Point lighthouse passing a pretty little cove where we stopped to muse over a plaque commemorating the most successful whale rescue ever carried out in July 1992 when 49 false killer whales beached themselves and were transported overland for successful release. Further on, we took a walk through an impressive tunnel-like passage of trees steadily climbing up to the lighthouse. Holiday accommodation has been made out of the old Head Keeper’s cottage (sleeping 6 @ $2,100 per week out of season) and Assistant Keeper’s cottage (has rates for 4 @ $1,750 per week out of season with an additional two guests at $30 per head per night. Prices double in the summer holidays yet, we must be very quick to say, this is quite the most superb setting to remove oneself from the madding crowd. These cottages are perched on a cliff edge overlooking the extensive Treachery Beach and sand dunes melting into Myall National Park. Up the steep incline behind them is the 1875 lighthouse guarding a coastline area that since operation has witnessed 20 reported wrecks making it ‘heaven’ for divers.

The next day we moved a further 25kms to Sandbar/Bushland camps on the recommendation of Mick and Pauline (another member of Leecy’s art class). We chose to stay in Sandbar where we were lulled to sleep by the persistent hooting of a Powerful Owl and particularly enjoyed five brush turkeys roaming the almost vacant campground. One came up and nipped George on the finger while he was photographing them.

The nipper – a male brush turkey

Some time ago we watched a TV doco on the love/hate relationship generated by brush turkeys. Lea’s Dad loved them and spent hours watching these inveterate scratchers either feeding amongst leaf litter or building up their mound nest. Understandably, Gardeners hate brush turkeys for their determined annihilation of flower beds and veggie patches and go to any length to rid their properties of this “pest” a doing what comes naturally. Australian crows (or ravens as George correctly calls them), mynahs, seagulls and cane toads all fall into this dichotomy of sentiment arising from mans quirky unpredictability. We were kept amused watching an elderly man almost have an apoplectic fit whenever a brush turkey had the audacity to venture onto his site, throwing anything and everything after it- even his wash stand!

Our steady march northwards through the Great Lakes region had us twisting and turning between inland coastal waters and large tracts of swampy paperbark and palm thickets before returning to the Pacific Highway, the condition of which generates angst the length and breadth of it with sniping by local authorities and aggrieved public. We hit a section undergoing an upgrade and suffered our first blow-out. Midst all the noise of excavators, bulldozers and the steady stream of road trains we were momentarily stunned by a loud bang that sounded as if something had hit the caravan. Skiv began to shudder and shake on the rough surface and we immediately realised we had a flat tyre. Our hearts sank as there was nowhere suitable to pull off and we could only get off the busy road between barriers into a tiny spot that was far from ideal. We leapt out to survey the damage and found the side wall of Skiv’s back tyre torn in 4 or 5 places and faced with the sloping road verge had difficulty inserting the jack under the axle. One never remembers the camera in tough times and we can only be grateful that we weren’t travelling fast. A quiet road would have been preferable to the pressure of construction and blasting time approaching though! We were pretty quick to pull into a rural caravan park to recover – pity traffic noises reverberated through the night disturbing sleep.

Back down to the coast we took up early occupation of a site in Arakoon Conservation Area just below the historic Trial Bay Gaol built in 1886 on a promontory. On approach, it is a striking granite building with expansive outlooks that probably would distract watch tower guards from their jobs, just a shame the cells are without views. From the sweeping beachside the prison profile is difficult to discern. During the First World War it was used as an enemy internment camp. What interested us was that a public works prison was specifically built to house prisoners for the express purpose of constructing a sea-wall that was never completed. Why a sea-wall was deemed necessary in the first place, beats us.
The tick of approval for Gumma Reserve just east of Macksville had us popping in there despite our Camps Australia saying it had narrow access. That it did, being a narrow dirt road up against Warrell Creek with a few twists and turns between closely set trees that we were glad not to meet any oncoming cars. It was worth the visit and we stayed on for the night in this well kept bush camp overlooking the wide expanse of water. Creek is a misnomer for the sheer width and volume of water being carried along the many waterways we have crossed in northern NSW. We would happily have spent longer here had we not arranged to be in Coffs Harbour to spend the weekend with Charles and Trish. Before arriving at their home we were keen to ascertain whether we could replace our damaged tyre in this big town. A convenient tyre outlet was spotted with easy access for Getaway. They had our size, even better than that… the supplier offered us at a substantially reduced price, a set of tyres with brand new rims that a previous owner had traded in for a pair of fat tackies.
We grabbed the offer and in a flash Skiv, sporting fine new rubbers on the front and good looking rubbers on the back was having a wheel alignment.

Arriving at the home of Charles and Trish we peered nervously up their driveway wondering what difficulties may lie concealed for the parking and turning of Getaway. Charles appeared and assured us all was well. So many years have passed since Lea last saw him as a young lad being bedevilled by the four Howman sisters, that George has never had an opportunity to meet him. His sister, Pippa, stopped overnight with us in Parramatta last month after a holiday in Coffs Harbour before returning home to England. We had barely eased Getaway into a good spot within their extensive garden when Trish had to leave for work at the Base Hospital. After settling in Charles took us on a conducted tour of Coffs Harbour, a popular whale watching, recreational boating venue. He was feeling the after effects of a tough paddle ski race that morning so left us to walk up the steep headland set aside as a mutton bird sanctuary overlooking the harbour town. Brisk afternoon winds made the ocean too choppy for any chance of spotting a whale. We collected the youngest of Charles’s three daughters (the others away at Uni.), Alex from her after school job and returned home for a night of ‘catch up’. This family are all very physical - up very early to pursue their running, swimming and paddling while the Rubber Tramps lie abed, see to (hopefully) the last of their winter laundry and enjoy the bird life that abounds in the garden. Next day, when Charles and Trish returned they hurried us into their car for brunch down on Moonee Beach as it was such a still morning after a night of passing storms. Charles had been paddling with whales and he hoped we would be able to see them from the Moonee Bluff. While he cooked on the public barbeque, we walked up the bluff with Trish and the dogs, to scan the ocean in vain.

Moonie Beach Brunch

The last time we were on this road was with Justine and Daniel and their old rented banger, “Gotushere” named from the relief of reaching each place along the way to Townsville in January 1995. Making the journey thirteen years later was startling in comparison - such is progress! A night was spent at Iluka so that we could walk the World Heritage listed littoral rainforest directly behind our caravan park through this 2.5km little treasure with its tall canopy of riberry and lilly pilly trees, intertwined with strangler figs and on, out to the Bluff and back via a long empty beach to the picturesque fishing harbour and village of Iluka beside the Clarence estuary. We planned to overnight in Byron Bay known for its laid back alternative lifestyle and where Justine and Dan had introduced us to the shenanigans of a Doors concert way back when. Horrors! Byron Bay was now so peopled that we could hardly wait to get out of its congestion! Finding our way to Mullumbimby Leagues Club we were delighted to camp on the river’s bank alongside the sports ground. A golf course had been carefully fitted in on the periphery and fortunately for us, the afternoon winds were in our favour this match day, preventing golf balls putting a dent in anywhere. Further entertainment came from a pair of plovers (masked lapwings) who, in guarding their nest, took great exception and strafed the golfers putting on the green closest to us. No eagles or birdies possible here!

People pressure, urban sprawl and traffic density began to encroach heavily from Tweed Heads that we dreaded crossing into Queensland and the famed Gold Coast for this very reason. Memories of Surfers Paradise had us set on staying slightly inland so that we could enjoy a day with Paula (remember our travel companion along the Ningaloo coastline of Western Australia in 2005 and both our daughters Maidstone teacher?) Paula recently bought flat in Southport and we were keen to see her new abode and catch up before she left for Moreton Island. We settled just inland at Narang- which had sounded rural but was quite the opposite. Worse - we learned it was Hoon Capital (Hoons are anti social youngsters with little regard for safety, tearing up turf and tar with doughnuts and street racing!) according to hot off the press statistics! Glad to say we witnessed nothing of the kind during our two night stay in the middle of town. Once settled in our caravan park we sent Paula a text and set off to find a Visitors Centre when we happened upon a familiar figure with two grandsons in tow. Little did we know how quick and easy the access was to Southport! Paula had arrived to make arrangements for the following day, we’d spend together.

We were in the best of hands when it came to exploring Paula’s neck of the woods as she is a most knowledgeable bush walker. Once again we were able to sit back and enjoy a carefree drive in the hands of our guide up the dizzy coiling road leading to Springbrook Plateau lying within a Range dominating the skyline west of the Gold Coast and part of the remaining ancient links to Gondwana World Heritage Area. The start of the day had prepared us for a hot one but the ancient Antarctic beech forest had us shivering with cold as we walked through this remnant of very cool climate growth to enjoy views from Best of All Lookout over the rugged landscapes around us and beyond to the patchwork of coastal plain land uses. Thank goodness we’d thrown a jumper into our rucksack.

The strange girth of the Antarctic beech

It was needed in this high country and throughout the Twin Falls walking circuit. Up and down the gorges, along the foot of the escarpment and though large rock clefts our track passed behind curtains of falling water belonging to Twin Falls and Blackfellow Falls. In full spate you’d never get near there and all beautiful sheer drops.

Lea and Paula behind Blackfellow Falls

Finally we stopped to look down upon Purling Brook Falls before returning to our picnic spot for lunch. A period of mutual observation ensued between our selves and a very handsome satin bower bird sitting on a branch above our table.
Another route back down to the coast took us into Surfers Paradise and totally changed our conception and understanding of this now bustling and very cosmopolitan part of Queensland’s Gold Coast which forms a long strip of amazing residential waterfront developments around wide canals formed out of swamp ground at the confluence of Narang River and along the inland Broadwaters with a multitude of high rise building and hotels in artistic shapes and colours virtually concealing them from the beach front. We felt a distinct Mediterranean flavour even a similarity to Florida Keys amidst all these buildings with thick, lush vegetation and gardens enhancing the concrete jungle. We were impressed by the radical change undergone here from the ghastly high rise ridden main street, overflowing with holiday kitsch, we had driven into all those years ago.

Paula took us past all the beaches to The Spit, where we were taken aback to find Sea World. This is where our Gee family are visiting just before they meet up with us, in quite the most opposite direction in October! During a walk into the Marina Mirage Centre to see the boats at sunset we spotted the quaintest houseboat chapel. While peering down into it wondering if a wedding was about to take place, two cheery ladies awaiting prospective clients, invited us in for a closer inspection. Small world!
The little Chapel with stained glass windows and bell on the roof was originally built by a South African. A Zimbabwean and South African had recently bought it as a business for weddings, vow renewals, naming ceremonies and receptions – any function as they cruise along. “Celebrations Afloat”- how different and special is that. To add to this story, Deborah turned out to have attended Arundel School but well after Lea.

Celebrations Afloat Gold Coast

Time running out we returned to look over Paula’s home, enjoy her dinner and rush to complete the fast and furious chatter that had taken place throughout the day before she returned us home.

Queensland school holidays and clear blue skies had us decide to avoid the coastal holiday makers and head around the back of Brisbane into Somerset Region’s Valley of the Lakes taking part of a heritage trail up the Brisbane Valley through early 1820’s pastoral sheep farming land and little towns with original streetscapes from this era to Somerset Dam. It suited us well with pensioner’s rates in a spacious, well kept camp ground with mainly boating folk out on the lakes all day. Ravens awoke us, trying to outdo each other with a mournful story. Noisy miners mobbed a goanna in the bush alongside our door. It was easy to stay for the weekend mindful that we need to find an internet to send off our blog before month end if Saxon is to paste it up before their departure to Sydney, 1st October before they join us.

Tramping tales for August 2008

Our quiet July steeped in family history took a change in direction for August - A Kings School outing the first night of the new month went down very well as we joined brother-in law John in the dining hall for dinner followed by seats at Kings Theatre. Sadly, it wasn’t to be one of John’s renowned productions but never the less we enjoyed “The Venetian Twins” produced by the Vice Principal, a man who had been a good friend to Lea’s parents. Knowing Christine, the musical director of this delightfully frivolous play added another dimension to the evening’s entertainment with her piano playing. Next day we discovered we’d missed an important phone call from our son in the African bush. For the second time, he had to turn to his sister to announce the arrival of a Begglet in late January. The first, of new grandchildren planned for 2009 and we are thrilled to bits.

Leecy, down from Central Coast for an emergency dental appointment took us to meet her good friends Linda and Patrick, we had heard so much of and were yet to meet. We joined them for Sunday night supper. Linda is a Librarian teacher at King’s and she kindly invited us to join her in the school dining room for dinner followed by a visit to the King’s Library the following night as she was on duty. What a superb facility – we found it most uplifting to read the histories of past students who had excelled along with world leaders whose leadership philosophies fill the walls giving inspiration to students in all circumstances. A quiet grandeur that invited learning and judging by the many young lads coming in during the night, they too enjoyed the pursuit of knowledge in this beautiful place.

Keen to visit the home of May Gibbs as we have loved her artistic use of Australian flora and fauna creating botanically correct and beautifully illustrated books of the enchanting gum-nut babies Snugglepot and Cuddlepie and delightful banksia baddies, who certainly caught our imaginations. How often have we found ourselves peering into banksia bushes looking for the ultimate baddie lurking amongst the many cylindrical & furry seedpods! We caught the River-Cat into Sydney only to find the Dendy Cinema timing had caught us out. We had to start our day with a film if we wanted to see “And when did you last see your Father”. As the film came to an end Lea was given no time to compose her-self as half blinded by tears, she followed George to catch the carefully timed ferry over to Neutral Bay. Gawking at Kirribilli House, the official home of our Prime Minister, perched in its splendid setting overlooking the best of Sydney Harbour’s iconic monuments, as we passed by. Beyond the city we noticed an apocalyptic black cloud and we could only hope it was moving north towards Parramatta and would be over by the time we made for home. We had no time to waste on arrival in Neutral Bay and quick marched breathlessly up through the side streets following the signs to the May Gibbs historical home appropriately named “Nutcote”. She lived in this compactly designed home for forty years lovingly tending her garden and painting in her studio overlooking the Bay. We walked down through her English cottage garden to the front door which immediately transported us into the world of “One very hot night when the cicadas were singing so loudly that Snugglepot couldn’t hear his father snoring, he and Cuddlepie crept out of bed and out the house…” and the many other tales through which this beloved artist/author captured the imaginations of so many Australians in their youth. We find ourselves reminded of the Flower Fairies books that sat on our Rhodesian shelves!

A view from ‘Nutcote’

We hadn’t been inside long when the skies opened with a mighty downpour, preventing us from exploring the waterside Australian native garden. Just before closing time we made a wet dash down the side of the house into a guest wing tucked below the house. Here, we watched archival video footage. May Gibbs died in 1969 leaving her estate to the Spastic Centre and Northcott Society and as their caretakers began to lock up we took a gap in the weather and managed to catch a beautifully timed ferry from a closer stop down a million stairs! The ferry service makes trips back and forth from Sydney a most stress-free and perfect way to commute.

Leecy came down to Parramata loaded up with all the paintings that she has been hard at work doing for the past couple of months or more. George had offered to help hang them in readiness for the annual King’s Art Show held in Gowan Brae Mansion during a weekend spent with her son. Supposedly to cook for him while he studied for a flying exam! However, Lea became the cook and they would pop into Forrest House for meals beginning with the Opening of the Beijing Olympics on the Friday evening and ending with a big Sunday brunch. Much to George’s intense amusement Dup the geriatric dog found himself being terrorised by Skittle who discarded her persona of weak and feeble for a new age le chat terriblé guarding her territory!

The artist with her work – whew!

When the two arrived back at Forrest house Sunday afternoon intent on relaxing over water colour tuition - they were told to stay out in the chilly garden in no uncertain terms as Lea had spent the weekend housecleaning in readiness for the return of Forrest’s owners and the arrival of a childhood friend. Pippa flew into Sydney for a night with us. She had spent a month with her brother in Coffs Harbour and was now on her way home to England. Our mothers, Pat and Stella had met up in their first workplace after leaving school, maintaining a close friendship across all the years of their lives and dying within weeks of each other. Interwoven by special events and celebrations from birth, the Barnes / Howman kids almost believed they were related!
With Lea’s odd ability to recall birth dates she had baked a cake for Pippa celebrating hers the day she flew out coinciding with our travellers Shell and Keith flying in after their six weeks away.

Pippa and Lea

The following day we left Shell & Keith to catch their breath while we slipped off to the city by ferry to spend the day walking from Watsons Bay up to The Gap and round South Head passing Lady Bay with its nudists sunning themselves on the rock as we made our way to Hornby lighthouse guarding the Heads. It was a particularly glorious day with the first signs of spring busting out in the bush, wild jonquils in the undergrowth scenting our pathways and a whale tail could be seen flicking in and out of the ocean. We ate our pork sarmies in Camp Cove before walking back to Watsons Bay to catch a bus to Bondi Beach and back to Circular Quay for the ferry home.

Looking back over Watsons Bay and Sydney

Hardly had Shell and Keith arrived back than the weekend was upon us.
George had his long awaited appointment with an eye specialist in Parramatta and we arranged to pass the evening seeing the very joyous Mama Mia at the local cinema as it was in close proximity to the station. The eye outcome knocked us, as does anything unexpected until we get our head round it! Fortunately the film proved a wonderfully light hearted distraction followed by Cousin Alison and Amanda from Tasmania, meeting us outside the cinema door instead of in the station. Their train had made the airport /Parramatta journey in fine time! We had barely greeted each other when Shell & Keith also came hunting us out at the cinema…. the party was ON! It was Alison’s birthday and due to the late hour we had decided to have dinner in town before heading home for coffee and birthday cake. A fine start to our weekend with more to follow… Soon after we had all turned in for the night, the yelping delight of Leecy and Tasmanian Daly disturbed us all. Coming from the Opening Night of King’s 29th Art Show and on a high, after selling 6 painting and receiving two orders on a night that is normally dedicated to drinking and socialising, she’d hoped we would still be up partying at that late hour enabling her to wish Alison happy birthday. We popped up briefly to enjoy the success!

Leaving Keith to rest up, George, Lea, Shell, Alison and Amanda took off on the River-Cat for a day wandering in the Botanical gardens and lunching in the Art Gallery in fine style overlooking the harbour.

Protecting botanically important trees from roosting bats naturally caught our attention, especially when we came across this blow up man (Mr Blobby) flailing away at them!

That night we wearily relaxed watching Keith & Colleen’s latest movie on honey badgers in the comfort of Forrest house before hitting the sack.

A beautiful winter’s day dawned for our Ruby celebration breakfast down at Parramatta Lake. Lea’s sisters had been her wedding attendants and we were keen to celebrate the occasion with them. Sadly, distance put paid to our flower girl being there. However, Holly and Bernd were there in spirit and generously paid for breakfast. Another little girl caught up in the days preceding our engagement was Alison and we were thrilled at her efforts to mark our day with her presence. A low key celebration had been envisaged to fit into a day at the Art Show BUT the bridesmaids weren’t prepared to put up with their sister’s minimalist table! We arrived early with the champagne, ready to welcome the family on arrival at the café only to find Leecy and John Daly had dickied up a room attached to the café with yellow daffodils, cut-out ruby 40’s and matching balloons the previous evening. Shell arrived with ruby crackers and unusual table decorations. A most meaningful gift on the table awaited us from Saxon, a cushion cover with our five grandchildren’s smiling faces imprinted.

A memorable breakfast with plenty of laughter and happy tears took place due to Leecy sabotaging our “no speeches” stance by standing up to suggest each person share a story of Lea & George!

Ruby Anniversary Breakfast

We returned to Kings Art Show and found Leecy’s display covered in “measles” – red dots for SOLD! For tough financial times, it was wonderful to see all her sales and re-orders. In conjunction with the Art Show the all British Car Club put on a massive display in the beautiful grounds of the school and naturally the men were easily lured that-a-way. An ecstatic George returned to say he had found an Armstrong Siddeley Star Sapphire – the very model he had owned and driven over forty years ago.

1953 Armstrong Siddeley Star Sapphire

It seemed most fitting to hurry back there for a photo of ourselves alongside the model of his ex Mayoral vehicle – which to George’s horror the best-man’s gardener had used black shoe polish to smarten up the car in readiness to transport the bride and groom all those years ago, to the day.
Thwarted! It had driven off seconds before we got there. Another Armstrong Siddeley aficionado was quick to tell us it was up for sale and give us the details. $16,000 – George had paid £85 for his back in 1966!

The next day we travelled up to Killcare as George was keen to join Leecy’s Tuesday Art group beginning a new project on boat perspectives down in Hardys Bay. The hour’s journey gave us our first quiet time to reflect on Friday’s diagnosis of glaucoma and how it would affect our nomadic existence. The specialist’s wish to monitor the effects of eye drops on one eye over a month has us delaying our departure until mid September. All being well we will still have enough time to reach Bundaberg for our long planned holiday with Saxon, Paul and Talia.

Life with Leecy takes on a seemingly constant round of socialising with her art classes each day. Coming back, we were greeted like old friends by her students. George joined the art classes, gleaning much from the tuition of so many budding artists.

George captured in action…

The action …

Lea, back to being the house-keeper, makes soup for Tuesdays and bakes biscuits for the daily art breaks which she delightedly joins for the inevitable chatter – always too short for her liking though.

Our first Sunday back here, Shell and Keith drove up for a soup lunch with us before gathering with many of Leecy’s friends at the local RSL to enjoy Peter Kinch’s afternoon of music.

Hardys Bay RSL Gathering to listen to The Music Man

The very next day we were partying again with Yvonne and Bill who had invited us over for sausages yet served us a delicious sea food lunch. That night found us at Point Frederick overlooking Brisbane Waters celebrating Jennifer’s birthday in the mind boggling home where we’d met our Howman relative back in June. Champagne flowed as we guzzled pizza and tackled the intricacies of a game of pool. Even taking Dup on his slow daily constitutional down on the bay we find ourselves unexpectedly sharing a “red” with a local as the sunset throws ever changing colours, shades and shadows across the harbour and surrounding hillsides. All too beautiful to refuse!

AND all too much for George, now laid low by a heavy chest cold and a fever that knocked him out for 48 hours as our busy month drew to a close.

Tramping tales for July 2008

Skittle- scat! Our ancient charge.

This has been a month revolving around the care of a dear and very frail aged cat – Skittle and the time required to delve into archival work. We pored over old Howman albums and loose photographs spread between four sisters and steadily gathered them altogether in chronological order to form an illustrated record of the lives of Lea’s parents. Thanks to technology all the information we have managed to glean has been collated with the aid of Leecy’s scanner, and stored on computer preparatory to wider distribution. Bringing clarity to events that are so easily confused with the passing of time has taken the best part of a month.

Our first Sunday we were back up the Central Coast to attend Leecy’s birthday. A few friends congregating at Bell’s for lunch due to a husband of one, a musician, playing there. Perfect winter weather in the lovely setting of an old homestead with an understated nautical décor opened out onto an enormous verandah overlooking rolling lawns on which the Jazz Trio played, should have made for a blissful occasion had it not been for up-market meals that not only left hunger in its wake but hurt the pocket!
Leecy, proud of her newly organised home invited everyone back to party on…
We nervously dashed back first thing the next day to check the welfare of our geriatric Skittle

For light relief, our senior citizen excursion tickets for $2.50 each have taken us far and wide using bus, train and ferry services, each of these giving us the opportunity to enjoy some of the pleasures that Sydney has to offer. Leecy had suggested we take in the 16th Biennale of Sydney which meant little to us plebs until we learnt that it is one of the world’s oldest, most celebrated and respected festivals of contemporary art.
Revolutions – Forms That Turn was the theme presenting works by more than 180 artists from all over the world in assorted venues that certainly challenged our preconceived notions about art today and all for FREE – even charter ferries laid on to take folk across to Cockatoo Island, one of the art venues in the middle of Sydney Harbour.

Seriously weird stuff – methinks!

This proved to be an amazing adventure aside from the art as we ambled on the Lower Island amongst disused naval and ship building yards with their rusting machinery. A doglegged tunnel built to get men and equipment from one side of the island to the other more easily fascinated us as during World War 11, it doubled as a bomb shelter. To add authenticity, as we walked the tunnel, we became aware of an atmospheric soundscape recording of the Japanese submarine attack on Sydney Harbour in 1942. Trudging up Burma Road linking the bottom of Cockatoo Island with the top known as The Plateau which housed convicts from 1839 we became enamoured not only in the superb outlooks surrounding us but the history steeped in this place. The prisoners themselves built their dingy barracks using quarried stone from the island before their labours were turned to building Fitzroy Dock and manning workshops to service the Royal Navy. By 1869 this Penitentiary was closed due to its appalling conditions, yet – unbelievably, this same place immediately gave rise to an Industrial School for orphaned and neglected girls along with a Reformatory for young women convicted of crimes. What kind of life could that have been! Just off shore a training ship load of neglected boys were kept under strict authority learning skills and according to history there were unseemly and unscheduled meetings between the girls and boys that before long (thankfully for the young girls we are sure) the girls’ institution was moved to Parramatta. In general, it was hard to believe Australian preoccupation with duty of care allowed for the public to wander through the maze of antiquated buildings which were an art form in themselves.

On every city trip we have rested our weary legs by taking in a movie at the conveniently located cinema in the heart of Circular Quay a few steps away from the express ferry that per chance, always awaits us for the river trip home. Dendy Cinema is our kind of movie house providing us with the lesser known and unusual art films that we hanker for, so often.

World Youth Day celebrations dominated more than a week and we liked nothing better than watching some of the half million pilgrims roaming around – whether it be Circular Quay, Parramatta or Kings School with their national flags, singing and dancing. In contrast to the normal drug and alcohol crazed lifestyle that dominates the media the refreshingly wholesome attitude displayed by the pilgrims was heart warming. By the time Papa Benedict was making his public appearances in Sydney we were content to watch events unfold on TV and recall our excitement of sighting the Pope in his pope mobile in St Peter’s Square itself, in 2006.

At times, we have popped into Getaway safely stored beside Forrest House and it has been like stepping into a fridge making us all the more grateful to have the comfort of a heated home. On one occasion, after a blast of cold Antarctic air swept in from down south, “soft hail” (resembling snow) began to fall bringing with it temperatures close to zero. And with climate change and reduction of carbon emissions being the hot topic these days (that is apart from all the gold medals the Aussies are going to win at the Olympics!) it has been interesting to listen to the widely differing perspectives being debated in Parliament and elsewhere.

One of George’s great joys over the past month has been feeding the birds that arrive at different times of the day for a snack, the flock of noisy sulphur-crested cockatoos being his favourite. He has yet to be able to give them a tickle behind the head without being bitten, but claims certain of them will soon learn to drop their defences! Kookaburras, butcher birds, currawongs and magpies arrive at the kitchen window wait for Lea to give them bits of meat, making the backyard look like an aviary at times. These birds were Lea’s Dad’s daily pleasure during his life here, although he sat with a pile of sticks to throw at the greedy, argumentative ones – generally the multicoloured lorikeets!

The joy of feathered friends…

A pupil from Lea’s Kariba School days had us round to a delightful Sunday evening with her family. Catching up on the Gregory family left in South Africa and introducing George to Louise’s husband Graeme and his amazing mother Joan (in her 90’s and yet she barely looks 70) and their two super daughters. Louise made contact with her kindy teacher eight years ago when she was down visiting her parents from Darwin. The Royden’s had recently immigrated and Louise was pregnant with her youngest at the time. These make for joyous occasions with past and present to catch up on. We have also enjoyed quality time with nephew Sheldon popping in for meals after work and George was able to help him tow his “pride and joy” from Killcare to Parramatta so he can work on it, of an evening. This freed up valuable space in his mother’s garage which delighted Leecy.

In closing, it has been a quietly busy month - lacking in some respects from the stimulation we normally derive from being on the move, while at the same time an opportunity to put our feet up, in a warm house and enjoy television each night. Having an oven to bake scones, biscuits and try out cake recipes not to mention roast dinners and home-made pies has also made Lea very popular.

Tramping tales for June 2008

Our brief encounter with Scottish George and Rhodesian Audrey and their yellow Mangula Mercedes on the edge of the Murray River in April developed into a special friendship when we met up with them again in their home town of Berry.

Scottish George and Rhodie Audrey

Scottish George very adeptly manoeuvred our rig into their tight driveway and professionally levelled it out on blocks. Such effort could hardly be rewarded with an overnight stay and on the eve of winter, an onslaught of cold and wet weather arrived. The warm welcome of our host and hostess put us right and we thoroughly enjoyed a good few days of non stop chatter – not only of a past history we all had in common but of our families. Their stories engrossed us and by the light of a warm fire Scottish George took up his accordion and entertained us one evening. This touched a childhood chord for Lea as she recalled her aunt Moira doing the same way back at Cecil Rhodes Drive. Another night we watched treasured old cine film clattering away in that inimitable way, of George supervising bridge construction on the lower Mazoe and Sabi Rivers while Audrey and their three children lived in their caravan home on the river banks - wonderful archival stuff. No wonder we found it difficult to tear ourselves away from these kindred spirits and the magnitude of their hospitality. We left with a bag of freshly picked home grown vegetables. With each bite we savoured the memories of our stay.

Weather wasn’t at all conducive to exploring this coast line even though there were places we would have liked to stop and see. Busy freeways in wet misty conditions certainly not our favourite. We pulled into a municipal caravan park in Windang on the mouth of Lake Illawarra. That afternoon, wrapped up warmly, we walked along the lake’s edge to pay a courtesy call and check on an old relative belonging to our Cleethorpe friend Rob.

Days of tossing thoughts through our minds ……over fuel prices finally came to a rest when we made the decision to base up over winter with Lea’s sisters. Sherry had extended an invitation to use their home while they were in England for three weeks over July – before her husband Keith was diagnosed with Guillain-Barre syndrome, an autoimmune condition in which a person’s nerves are attacked by the body’s own immune defence system causing a spreading paralysis last month. Never did we dream of hearing of this potentially life threatening and frightening illness for a second time. The first was shocking enough with our young friend Mark in Zululand. Fortunately Keith’s Doctor recognised the symptoms early and promptly handed him over to specialists who admitted him into Intensive Care with treatment administered speedily. Rehabilitation was started and this ex Wallaby player’s discipline came to the fore as he worked at regaining power in his hands and feet in between numerous bouts of sleep. Anxious to see him for ourselves we headed for their home in Kings School, Parramatta. Drove down the side road of Forest House before realising there was no turning place! Over a cuppa George’s brain churned over this predicament. However, he successfully ended up turning Getaway on “a sixpence” bit by bit using Skiv’s winch. Once safely tucked into the forest, George swore Getaway wouldn’t be moved until we left New South Wales!!!! Although this mighty brother-in-law of ours had lost weight and strength, his determination to overcome his disabilities were most apparent. The goal of a 60th Birthday to attend in Norfolk proved a big draw! Not wishing to add to Sherry, the Carer’s burden, we spent a happy night catching up with them before moving up to Leecy at Killcare, on the Central Coast. The rest of the month passed swiftly in a buzz of strenuous activity… George spent weekends working alongside brother-in-law John and nephew Sheldon on John’s building site and week days building shelves galore throughout Leecy’s house along with plenty of neglected household tasks and renovations. While Lea saw to the everyday cooking and baking in between doing a massive and long overdue DECLUTTER. Between us all, this three level house took on a ship-shape and organised look giving plenty of exercise with the many stairs. Leecy delightedly worked within this new ordered home whether it was on her commissions in her personal art studio or the many art classes that take place daily in her dining room.
Tuesday students take turns, to complete their lesson with a soup lunch. Leecy challenged her sister to make the weekly soup and earn from the $5 a head! Thus, we all kept busy. But it wasn’t all hard work we had plenty of play…

We nipped back to Parramatta, using the train service through picturesque waterways and bush land, for an auspicious occasion – a pleasantly small dinner party celebrating Keith’s 60th birthday. A week later it was our nephew Sheldon’s 28th Birthday.

Keith and Shell

Celebration for Sheldon

Cultural and social occasions allowed us to meet Leecy’s friends as we took in good films, an art gallery or simply walking the old dog Dup down at Hardy Bay or Putty Beach – often in the gloaming! Winter darkness comes all too fast when you are caught up in renovations. Only Dup, getting underfoot with a reproachful look that drags us out in the cold. Talking of dogs puts us in mind of Keanu Sands Foxfire Icecapade Miami alias “Houndini” who succumbed to her cancer earlier this month leaving us with the memories of her many Tasmanian escapades.

We had scheduled ourselves to be back in Parramatta in time for the last weekend of June to learn the ropes of Forest House and take over the care of Skittle – Shell’s beloved geriatric 22 year old cat before their departure for the UK. However, we delayed until the Saturday evening as fittingly on the anniversary of Lea’s father’s death we couldn’t resist a luncheon date in the magnificent water front home of Michael and Jennifer, an art student of Leecy’s who arranged a special meeting with their friends… Australian Howmans! How Dad would have enjoyed this meeting. Peter drove up from Canberra with his wife Corinne, daughter Jacqueline and her friend Ron for the occasion. There was an instant rapport and much hilarity ensued with the surname pronunciation… Peter was immediately taken by Leecy’s close resemblance to a cousin of his. While George spotted strong genetic similarities within the Howmans descended from common Norfolk roots dating back to circa 1270. With his family scattered widely we look forward to meeting them all in time especially his parents up in Queensland.

Meeting our Australian Howman

The clock ticked on relentlessly to end our happy afternoon and we took leave of our new relatives to be back in Parramatta before nightfall.

Keith had been passed to travel to the UK on condition he took every precaution not exhaust himself. Sunday passed all too fast as Keith and Shell took us on an orientation tour of our immediate neighbourhood and that evening they had invited our distant cousin Adam and his family over for sundowners. We hadn’t seen Adam since he was a toddler and here he was living a short distance away from Kings School with his wife Debbie and their almost teenage children plus his mother-in law- Alison. By quirk of fate, Alison’s father had been a close friend of Lea’s Dad in their youth and both men had produced four daughters with interwoven lives over the years so there was much to catch up.

June ends with us settling into Forest House – on the enormous and thickly wooded estate that is Kings School, the oldest private school in Australia devoid of school boys being holidays.