The day after the day after the night before

Huh?

We didn't do alot on Sunday - not because I was so drunk or so hungover I couldn't function, but because it was a day of rest and there were signs that our souls needed some time to catch up and recuperate. And who are we to argue with our own souls? Whatever is was we did that day there is photographic record and my memory isn't anywhere near that good anymore!

Monday dawned and we decided to explore Perth City. We took the bus and the train and then hopped on old Shank's pony (we walked in other words). We went to the Perth Mint where we weren't allowed to take pictures - sigh - and watched them pour gold. It was just as cool as the first time and just as enjoyable. After that we wandered about the town and said hello to the kangeroo's that are forever hanging out by the road and being a traffic nuisance. Luckily one was in a friendly mood and we managed to snap a picture of him with Inga and Rachael. Shortly after that he poked Inga with something (it wasn't his paw...) and she slapped him one, causing them all to bound off between the traffic to annoy someone else . We strolled on and met some businessmen who were still trying to get into the nearby office building and it would seem they're going to be stuck there forever. We shook hands with them and wished them luck before ambling off to explore some more. One of them wanted to buy Rachael and we were sorely tempted until he explained that he'd pay us once he'd gotten inside. "No chance, mate" was our response so we've still got her. It wasn't a hectic action packed day but it was enjoyable. The strangest bit was seeing a girl on the train coming in. Not just any girl, but the same girl who had been serving us all beer a couple of evening's ago. This time she wasn't topless, or naked (how she ended up which was a novelty for me - being served beers by a naked woman. Wonder is Inga would go for that...) but fully dressed. I pointed her out to Inga but refrained from saying Hello to her just in case she was with her Granny who didn't know what she did of an evening. Tomorrow, we decided, we'd collect our car for the trip down South and start packing our bags to leave the house.

Four!

Friday night was spent looking after the girls - or rather, reading in the bedroom while they watched Big Bloody Brother (YUK!). The reason for this was simple; it was Dani's hen night. They crawled home late at night and Inga was somewhat smashed on champagne. We went to bed ;-)

The next day was Jason's stag day - note the use of the word day, not night. This was an all day affair consisting of sport, sport, beer and sport. Followed by beer, poker and a barbie. How Australian! Jason collected me and off we went to play, wait for it, golf! Yep, having successfully avoided the stick and ball game for 40 years, I was now going to play. We had buggies too - what a laugh they were! I borrowed a stick thingy from Jason and even managed to hit the ball a few times. Occasionally it even went in vaguely the right direction. Despite my amateur status and refusal to take the game seriously I managed to get round without breaking the magic 90 (which would have meant I had messed up every hole), only lost one ball in the drink and didn't break the stick (for which Jason was no doubt grateful). From golf we went to play marbles, I mean bowls. Paired with Jason, I eventually remembered how to play the game and we beat the opposition whilst sinking a few beers but for some reason the bloke in charge (who took it all far too seriously) wouldn't let us keep the marbles. Spoilsport.

After that we adjourned for an evening of barbie and beer (the poker got cancelled due to lack of sobriety, which was a pity as having every one else pissed was my entire game plan!). We chatted and then got served by a topless waitress - how cool and apparently tradional - gotta love those Aussie traditions! We drank, pissed about, drank and eventually people started to both leave and fall over. The killer of the evening was when they all decided to watch the cricket zzzzzz....sorry, dropped off at the thought of cricket...so I cadged a lift back with some approximately sober people and called it a day.

Aussie stag days are very different to Uk ones and that's not a bad thing. I didn't even have a hangover!

It's a sailors life for me!

Today we are running away to the sea. We were going to run away to the circus but they said we were too freakish even for them - and we didn't have any juggling balls to entertain punters with. It turns out that the sea faring folk are less fussy, so it's off to sea we have decided to go. For lazy tourists, such as we, there is a lovely cruise boat that runs from Perth down to Freemantle which takes an hour or so and offers lovely views of the Perth suburbs from a new angle.

We boarded Captain Cook's vessel in the morning (having sworn that we weren't Pater Pan in disguise) and sailed (well, motored) sedately down the river with a traditional Aussie commentary to keep us entertained: "On the right bank is a brewery, on the left bank is a house and in the middle of the river is a bloody drunk trying to swim home." We settled back and watched the very expensive scenery passing by. Just in case you don't believe me, this is a picture of the most expensive house in Perth. It cost almost 12 six packs of Fosters - and that was back when Fosters was a real man's drink for real men. (Now it's classed as carbonated chemical rubbish and even tramps turn their noses up at it). This house has lots of rooms and cost a lot of money and is probably only lived in once a year for a couple of weeks. Must be nice to have that kind of money. So we floated past and went on our merry way leaving behind the rich and famous, enjoying the marina's and the cruisers all tied up and looking spick and span - apparently nearly everyone in Perth owns a boat which begs the question: why don't Jason and Dani have one?

We reached Freemantle after a nice cruise and disembarked on the quayside to begin our wandering of the town. Freemantle is lovely. Stuffed full of colonial buildings and packed with history. Alot of the town is pedestrianised and even the bits that aren't don't have many cars driving around so it's a real pleasure to stroll about and drink in the atmosphere. We looked at old buildings and then headed for the old prison partly to see what we could see but mainly to see if they were open for business and would trump up some charges against Inga (only joking!). The prison was originally a fort to protect the harbour and ships. Built by convicts and still standing, maybe house building companies should take note? and everyday there is a a time keeping ceremony. This is the same as the one that takes place at Greenwich everyday too; a canon is fired and a big ball is dropped to signify noon. All the ships in the harbour would set there onboard timepieces by the gun and ball before they set sail having dropped off their cargo of convicts (or citizens as they're called today). We made it just in time for the event which was explained by a nice man before he got someone to fire the gun. It was over pretty quickly but good fun to watch and hear about plus it ticked the History box for the holiday which is always a good thing. From here we meandered through the town and the markets, had some lunch in a street cafe and then headed for the shipwreck museum. And the day's surreal encounter. As we crossed the park we were confronted with a giant snail who was being taken for a walk. So Cool!

It rolled along without a sound with a rider on its back and a couple of escorts. God knows what it was all about but it was a sight to behold and put a smile of your face.

The shipwreck museum was interesting and had lots of treasure and sunken (now raised) ships on display plus alot of history about what had sunk where and why around the Western coast of Australia. And it had a dead body which is always good to get the interest of a child and make her explore in the hope of finding even more gruesome exhibits! Feeling that we had overdosed on history and culture we left the dark halls and ambled down to the station to catch the train back to Perth. I can't remember much about the train ride which just goes to show how bad my memory is, or that it was dull!

Fremantle und ein Junggesellinnenabschied

Heute ging es nach Fremantle oder auch Freo wie man das hier nennt.

Freo ist der Hafen von Perth an der Mündung des Swan River und war die erste Ansiedlung der Swan River Kolonie in 1829. Es lag also nahe, dass wir ein Boot (Fähre) nehmen und auf dem Swan River in Richtung Freo geschippert sind.

Freo ist voller Studenten, Touristen :-),Cafes und Straßenmusiker. Eigentlich ganz nett, auch wenn man das Gefühl hat es sei ein wenig "posh".

Da ich mich natürlich vor unserer Reise nach down under brav über mein Reiseziel informiert habe, haben wir einen kleinen Stadtrundgang vorbei an den den wichtigsten Sehenswürdigkeiten gemacht.

Vorbei am Round House, einem ehemaligen Gefängnis, zuschauen beim 13 Uhr Kanonenschuss und einem Spaziergang durch die Stadt mit den vielen schönen alten Häusern aus der Kolonialzeit.
Zum Abschluß sind wir dann noch in das Shipwreck Museum gegangen wo geborgene Teile der Batavia (einem sehr bekannten aber untergegangenen Handelsschiff) konserviert sind.


Wieder daheim durften sich die Damen (ab 18 Jahren und sofern sie sich vom Fernseher losreissen konnten...) dann hübsch machen, denn es ging zu Danis Junggesellinnenabschied in eine Cocktail Bar. Zwar hatte niemand von uns (Judy, Karen und mir) ein Cocktailkleid dabei, aber wir durften dennoch mitfeiern.
Der Champagner floss, Spielchen wurden gespielt und die Bride-to-be wurde immer tipsiger... Jeder bekam ein Namensschild und eine Bezeichnung in welcher Verbindung sie zu Dani stehen. Aus mir wurde dann der längste Titel gemacht - "sister-in-law-to-be".

Wir hatten einen sehr lustigen Abend aber ich war dann doch froh als ich mich irgendwann morgens ins Bett kuscheln durfte.

New Norcia - 132 nördlich von Perth

Auf unserem Rückweg von den Pinnacles haben wir noch ein par Zwischenstops eingebaut und wilde 'Roos sowie Emus gesehen.
Vom Strand in Richtung Inland nach New Norcia, Australiens einziger Klosterstadt.

Die Spanier hatten ihr Finger auch überall drin und katholisch wie sind, wollten sie auch in Australien die Welt gewinnen. Sie gründeten Internate für Aboriginekinder, eins für Jungs und eins für Mädels im typisch spanischen Baustil.

Die "Stadt" besteht heute fast nur aus Mönchen (die wir nicht gesehen haben) und vielen alten Gebäuden und einer Fernstrasse durch das Örtchen. Unser lunch haben wir uns an der Tankstelle / Tante Emma Laden / Post / Bank / Copyshop / Sandwichbar / Bäckerei / Zeitungsladen (alles in einem) besorgt. Hmmm lecker frische hausgemachte Suppe.

Nach unserem Besuch bei den Mönchen ging es wieder Richtung Perth, quer durch den Bush.

On the road to nowhere

Our trip to the desert was slowly drawing to an end. Actually, the trip to the desert was over and all we had left was the long drive home. We discussed this matter in the usual serious Tautorat-Royal manner over breakfast and came to the conclusion that we would take our normal approach to the trip: bimble and bumble aimlessly in the general direction of home via a couple of points that weren't even vaguely close.

Suffice to say, with Perth being a 4 hour drive South, we went North!

Our first stop was a look out post in the middle of nowhere which was an ideal opportunity for the Lion in the party to get her mane all windswept. This kept Inga and I amused for seconds, at least. We were aiming for a small tourist town called Jurien Bay which was up the coast from Cervantes (this is the town by the Pinnacles desert and the Great Western is recommended for your comfort). There was no reason to go to Jurien Bay other than the fact it was on the map and we were in the vague vacinity. Turns out, it was quite a sweet little place, set in a nice bay with a small pier jutting out and something splashing and playing about in the sea. Dolphins! Unfortunately we failed to get any pics on them playing about as they were too far out so instead you get a picture of Inga on the Jetty being artistic.

From there we headed for New Norscia. With a brief stop to take pictures of empty roads and strange trees. Jason kindly identified the tree for us later on but I, in my usual fashion, failed to make a note of what they were called. They are pretty cool though and remind me of ice creams or ice lollies (which is something we could have done with on this trip!)

New Norscia (which we eventually found after a small detour and failing to take the road we had identified as the quickest) is stuffed full of lovely turn of the century buildings. There's loads of history there and, unfortunately, loads of flies. Oh, and Catholic monks. The buildings are spectacular and the monks earn their money by growing olives and showing toursits round their "humble" abode. We chose not to be fleeced for a few billion dollars plus our souls, and instead just ambled about taking photo's.

The buildings are spectacular but I'm not sure if it's a credit to the monks or it just goes to prove that they obviously have too much money to spare. For monks, who I always thought had given up worldly possessions in pursuit of a purity of life worshipping God, it was maybe, just maybe, taking the piss a bit to be building huge houses. That said, part of it was a school and seminary, another was a hotel for visitors, and one was a brothel so the brothers could meet up and have fun with the sisters. Ok, maybe not, but wouldn't that have been a scandal to rock the foundations of the Catholic church, or would it....

The ubiquitous parrots were also in residence and very vocal about letting us know they were there. We paused and watched them screech at each other in the trees and then spotted the one thing Inga was desperate to get a picture of - and at a distance that made sense for a camera shot - a road train!

Ok, it's a bit hard to see - being only 3 trailers long - but if you look closely you can see it hiding behind the tree. Honest.

From here it was a straight run back to Perth, which was going to be a novelty for us. Too much of a novelty in fact, so we had no choice but to make some stops on the way. This wasn't, and never will be, hard in Australia as there is so much that is strange to see. Bus stops for schools where there isn't a house to be seen anywhere, signs for animals that might cross the road that are so cool I wanted to steal them and ship them home (the signs not the animals although Inga probably wouldn't have objected to a pet Kangeroo).



Why don't we have signs that are as cool as these? Especially the long necked turtle one. We didn't know what the hell this was and didn't believe Jason (the oracle of Australia) until we actually saw one. There really is a turtle that has had its neck stretched out, just like it's been on a rack or is related to those He-man stretchy toys you used to be able to get. So cool. We drove back to Perth happy and contented with our little desert jaunt with associated side trips and wondering what joys had been planned in our abscence.

Pinnacles - eine Wüste voller Steine

In der Nähe der westaustralischen Stadt Cervantes befindet sich der Nambung-Nationalpark (engl. Nambung National Park). Er erstreckt sich 245 km nördlich von Perth entlang der Swan Coastal Plain.

Hauptattraktion des Nationalparks sind die bis zu 4 Meter hohen verwitterten Kalksteinsäulen, die "Pinnacles"; er ist deshalb auch unter dem Namen Pinnacles Desert bekannt, welche aber nur einen 4 Quadratkilometer kleinen Teil des Nationalparks konstituiert.

(Vielen Dank Wikipedia)

Wir waren dort! Gestern Nachmittag (da der Hobbyfotograf unbedingt bei Sonnenuntergang und Sonnenaufgang hier sein wollte)sind wir mit Danis Auto hingefahren. 245 km hört sich nach etwas an, leider sieht das auf einer Australienkarte nach nichts aus!

Endlich haben wir die Stadt hinter und gelassen und sind rein in den Bush und vorbei an den Road Trains, wie man die LKWs mit 3 Anhängern hier nennt.






In aller Herrgottsfrühe (morgens um kurz vor 6) sind wir dann in den Nationalpark gefahren, ganz vorsichtig, weil einem die 'Roos gerne mal vors Auto hoppeln. Zum Glück haben die aber alle noch geschlafen...

Den Hintern haben wir uns abgefroren, denn die Sonne war noch nicht da.... erst als sie ganz langsam und gemächlich am Horizont auftauchte und die "Steine" in ein wunderbar goldenes Licht verwandelte, wurde auch uns wärmer.

Hier ein paar Impressionen von Abends und Morgens

Oh the cold, the terrible cold!

Dawn wasn't even considering getting up and was still slumbering gently when we were rudely awoken by the buzzing of our alarm. Despite protestations by the girlies everyone was hauled out of bed and into the car (showering and breakfast were not on the agenda til later on). We drove through the dark streets and back out to the dark desert. Did I mention that it was dark?

We were the first car to arrive in the middle of the desert. We had decided the night before that we would set up on and around the centre lookout post. We hopped out of the car and the air was rent with the screams of the tortured. $£*%! was it cold!

We braved the elements and set up the cameras. It was at this point we all wished we'd bought arctic gear, several fleeces and heated underwear. The show had better be bloody worth it, thought Inga and Rachael, or Mark is dead! The show had better be worth it, though Mark, or I'm dead! At least the day was starting with everyone on the same page.

The sun yawned and decided to amble lazily up into the sky. And I went snap happy again. Rachael tried to find shelter from the cold behind a rock but her bits still froze slowly from the lack of stored heat. And the sun was still having trouble choosing the right footwear for the day. False dawn finally started to put in an appearance and the desert started to lose its dark shadowy look. Everywhere you turned the rocks were slowly changing colour, the shadows starting to migrate seawards as the light coaxed them into action.

And then the sky lit up.




It's hard to describe the riot of colour that suddenly races across the sky, the photo's capture just a fraction of it all. The sky over the desert is huge as there's nothing from horizon to horizon to block the view and the colour flows across it all, chasing the night out to sea. And once it starts there is no turning back, no slipping gently back into slumber, no having a lie in. You're up!



The dragon (or dog, cloud formations are very subjective) chased the night away to bother someone else (Africa was the next stop for the night) and Dawn realised that it was time to get up and put on her daily show. Outfit chosen, matching footwear (de regieur for any self respecting blazing star), let the show commence! (well, continue to be exact)




It was still cold but the light show more than made up for it. We were still the only people in the desert at this point, which was great. We, or rather I, could scurry about like a mad idiot taking photo after photo and not worry about how daft I looked. So I did. We took 132 usable photo's by the time the show was over and it's so tempting just to put the entire lot up here so you can see the incredible progression, but I shan't. Book a flight and go there yourself, you won't be disappointed.



The sun took quite a while to finally amble over the horizon (Dawn may get up quite early but the sun is a bit of a sluggard when it comes to getting out of bed) but his stately arrival was heralded, not by an ever changing sky, but by ever changing colours in the rocks.





Eventually the sun climbed up high enough to appear over the hillside and the colours fled from the full onslaught of heat and light to wait patiently for dusk when they would re-emerge and dance again amongst the limestone formations to the delight of a different audience. We, on the other hand, were seriously ready for showers and a big fat breakfast.







Oh, and it was about now that the first other morning visitors turned up - about 2 hours late for the real show - but we didn't mind. Having the desert to ourselves for the whole of dawn somehow made it even more special.