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Echuca: Did you know they had paddle-steamers in Australia?

Posted by Squiffy on April 6th, 2009

Echuca prides itself on being the ‘paddle-steamer capital’ of Australia. I didn’t know that Australia had any paddle-steamers, but there were certainly a lot here, all fully restored and in working order. In fact, they claim to have more paddle-steamers here than anywhere else in the world.

Echuca, situated on the Murray River, which runs from South Australia into Victoria, became a busy port when a railway line to Melbourne was laid down. Cargo could be shipped to Echuca, put on a train to Melbourne and then distributed to the rest of the world. Nowadays, the boats are used to transport tourists back in time.

In continuing our tour of historic Victoria, we couldn’t resist taking a slow, steam powered trip down the Murray ourselves, passing luxurious house boats for rent and restored 19th century buildings as we went. Dave was invited to inspect the wood-fired, steam-driven engine, where he found the engineer heating a pie on the pipes for lunch!

I thoroughly enjoyed exploring the historic gold fields area of Victoria, from Ballarat to the border with the next state, New South Wales. The towns have well restored and beautiful 19th century buildings, a sense of gold rush expectation and excitement and well planned attractions they are proud of. Plus some sunshine and lovely cafes for a cappuccino break. Don’t miss out on Victoria!

Sovereign Hill, Ballarat: Gold fever

Posted by Squiffy on April 3rd, 2009

Thank you to our host Ian, who very kindly managed to wangle us some complimentary tickets to Ballarat’s most famous and award-winning attraction, Sovereign Hill. The site is a living museum which recreates the local area as it was in the 1850s, at the start of the gold rush era. As I love all that gold fever history, I had a great day out.

After purchasing some snacks at Ye Olde Bakery, we wandered the Wild West style shops and buildings, taking in the post office, candle makers and confectioners, before having a go at 19th century bowling – without the mechanics of the modern day, Dave was in charge of re-setting the cumbersome pins. We enjoyed the walking tour of the mines, which were very realistic with one exception: the pre-recorded guide, reportedly a Cornish tin miner and owner of the mine, had an accent which varied between Irish and Welsh and ended up sounding like a pirate! I think the Aussies have some way to go at perfecting their regional British accents.

Before leaving we were keen to try panning for gold in the museum’s river. Apparently they add slivers of gold to the river everyday, and if you’re VERY patient and methodical, you might find one. I gave up looking when the girl next to me found gold the size of a pin head – I’m not going to get rich from that! I was hoping for more of a nugget. Despite not coming away any richer, we had a great day out at this authentic museum with lots to do.

Australia: Back to Ballarat

Posted by Squiffy on March 31st, 2009

From Melbourne airport, we headed straight to the city of Ballarat, where we’d left our car with newly made friends, the Connor family. They’d invited us, and our other Ballarat friends Judy and Ian, to join them for a spit roast dinner. We’d like to thank them for a lovely meal, great evening and for coming to the rescue with car storage – much appreciated guys.

Dave had perhaps a little too much wine and beer and became the children’s entertainer for the evening, first enthralling them with card tricks, then promising them that he could levitate. His execution of the levitation left a lot to be desired and attracted shouts of ‘cheat’ from the audience (Calls of ‘cheat’ from the grandparents were a little harsh, I thought. They thought I’d raise three feet off the floor, lying down! – DaveB). His forfit was to act like an elephant and give the kids a ride on his back (his idea, definitely too much wine). We are now staying with Ian and Judy whilst we explore Ballarat and have our car serviced before heading out on our east coast road trip. Thanks to you both for putting us up. Or should that be putting up with us……

New Zealand: Weather dependent

Posted by daveb on March 30th, 2009

We’ve left Auckland and are headed back towards Melbourne in the hope that the Australian weather has cooled quite significantly from when we left it in the mid-forties, nearly two months ago. Before we pick-up where we left off in Oz, I thought that I’d take a few moments to record my thoughts and feelings on New Zealand.

We’ve packed an awful lot of memorable experiences and activities into our two months here. It seems like such a long time ago that we were mountain biking in Christchurch and swimming with dolphins in Akaroa. Or staring into the blue-green waters of Lake Tekapo, or walking at the base of Mount Cook, cruising through Milford Sound, throwing snowballs during our helicopter landing on Fox and Franz Josef Glaciers. We’ve got cold, wet bottoms sixty-five metres underground in the Waitomo Caves. We’ve been sailing and shipwreck diving in the Bay of Islands. And, after handing-back the keys to our diminutive hire car, we were wrapped to spend a few nights in a semi-swanky hotel in downtown Auckland.

Mostly, the weather stayed warm and dry just long enough for us  to undertake these activities. It hasn’t all been sunshine though. Not by a long stretch. Bad weather forced us to abandon our proposed hot air balloon flight. The southern scenic route was a washout and so were two of the three days we spent in Queenstown. We spent a day trudging around the Marlborough wine region in the pouring rain. The heaviest downpour sealed our decision to leave the south island sooner than planned. And don’t get Squiffy started on the innumerable roadworks

For us, camping is a means to an end. Notwithstanding the fact that we have met some really great people at campsites, if money weren’t a consideration we’d take a hotel room over a car-boot, tent or even a top-of-the-range motorhome anyday. And when it rains, campsites become something close to zero fun. Squiffy and I have spent countless hours in rural camping grounds in our hire car, either sitting up-front or laying down in the boot with the rear seats folded down, waiting for the rain to stop just long enough for us to leg it to the toilet or the kitchen.

You see, fabulous as this country is, New Zealand is a really outdoorsy place — almost every tourist experience is shaped by the great outdoors and therefore at the mercy of the prevailing weather. Australia has a similar outdoorsy feel and that’s fine because it’s always warm and dry (sometimes too hot…). New Zealand on the other hand, has a maritime climate more similar to Britain’s than you’d imagine. And that was precisely from where our problems stemmed: our enjoyment of each was almost completely at the mercy of the day’s weather. During our tour of the south island, we chatted to many a local who commented that it had been the worst summer in memory. Tell us about it!

An average non-activity (driving) day would go something like this:

  • Awake in the titchy hire car boot to the not-so-gentle sound of rain-fingers drumming on roof of car.
  • Cross legs for an hour until the rain calms-off a bit, allowing you to run for the campsite toilet and shower block.
  • Skid around on wet, muddy floor of toilet block. Curse the wet, muddy shower cubicle floor on which you’ve just dropped your clean pants. As you bend down to pick-up your pants, you drop your clean towel onto the floor.
  • Huddle outdoors under picnic table umbrella/shelter with other campers. Consume three ‘Weet Bix’ and one cup of tea for breakfast.
  • The rain eases, so time your movements back towards the ‘microcamper’. Convert bedroom back to car, i.e. return back seats to upright position, move all bags, boxes, deck chairs and tables from front passenger seats, central console and dashboard back into the boot. Marvel at how you managed to fit all of this stuff up front, creating enough room for two humans to sleep in the back.
  • Take-up driving and navigation positions in the front seats.
  • Snap fingers and watch the rain restart, like clockwork.
  • Drive between four and eight hours through the rain, barely seeing the otherwise jaw-dropping scenery supposedly around each corner.
  • Arrive at campsite in new location. Remain in driver/navigator positions and twiddle thumbs until the rain subsides.
  • Convert car to bedroom-mode. Once again marvel at how it’s possible to fit two large rucksacks, one table, two deckchairs, camping stove, washing up bowl, plates, bowls, utensils and a large coolbox into the front two seats, footwells, central console and dashboard.
  • Carry utensils and coolbox towards camp kitchen. Refrigerate essential items, being careful to mark any fridge bags with names and departure dates.
  • As night falls, sigh as the rain comes in.
  • Return to car. Contort into pyjamas and sleeping bags. If over 5’10”, sleep in an ‘S’-shape, with head touching back of driver seat and feet touching the boot hatch. (If you detect that your head is lower than your feet, then rotate sleeping position.)
  • Fall to sleep. listening to the drumming of rain on the steel roof.

All in all, I’d highly recommend New Zealand as a tourist destination. It’s got some really wacky sights and experiences in between some very sleepy towns–it’s no wonder they throw themselves off bridges with elasticated cords–all mixed-up in land mass roughly the same size as the UK.

My advice for potential New Zealand holidaymakers? Be prepared to spend some quite serious money on accommodation, or least a half-decent motorhome (I recommend a long-wheelbase Transit-van style or bigger) — loads of people hire out smaller camper vans (MPV-size), but if you can’t stand up in it, it’s no better than camping in a small car when the rain comes in. We only met one other couple camping in a small estate car like ours. The nutters. Oh, and one final thing, for gawd’s sake: check the very long range weather forecast before you book your airfare…

Waiheke Island: A day trip from Auckland

Posted by Squiffy on March 27th, 2009

When city life gets too much, water loving Aucklanders head to the sunny and relaxing island of Waiheke. A pleasant 35 minute ferry ride landed us at the Western end of the island, near the seasidey town of Oneroa. It was a beautifully warm day, probably one of the hottest we’ve had whilst in New Zealand, so we settled into a wine bar overlooking the sandy bay and enjoyed a cold glass of local bubbly. Waiheke is famous for its boutique vineyards, you may have heard of one of it’s wineries, Cable Bay. Hearing they had great views, we went to visit and sure enough, were not dissapointed by the vistas looking back to the city. Dave declared the scenery, and their Merlot, one of his favourites ever, high praise indeed!

Auckland: Great to be back in the city

Posted by daveb on March 26th, 2009

After spending nearly seven weeks talking to sheep, I can’t tell you how pleased we are to be back in a decent-sized city again. Our guidebook refers to Auckland as being ‘Sydney for beginners’, which I feel is a tad unfair. To my eye, it’s got a artefacts of its volcanic past, a lovely boat marina, some glitzy skyscrapers mish-mashed in-between some older ‘colonnial-style’ buildings and a whacking-great syringe-needle shaped observation tower from which to take it all in — the highest in the southern hemisphere, to boot. And you can even jump off it, if you so choose.

As to be expected on such a nice day, in all directions the view stretched for miles before our eyes. We bit our nails as we watched the ‘Skywalkers’ carefully plot their route around the external walkway–barrier-less on both sides–around the viewing platform and placing their fears and their life in their overhead safety rope. We marvelled at the ballsy ‘Skyjumpers’: those nutters who undertook a simulated BASE jump from the 192m walkway; to my eyes, it wasn’t quite freefall speeds, but it was close. Both look equally scary and I successfully talked myself out of trying either of them. The best we could muster was standing on the solid glass floor of the observation deck and looking down to the city streets a great distance below our knocking knees.

Many people have talked Auckland down as being ‘just boring another city’, but I will stick up for it here. Just another city, it may be. Sydney for beginners, it may be. But, as long as I don’t have to catch the seemingly always late bus, I like it and could be persuaded to stick around for a while.

Auckland: Not a very warm welcome

Posted by daveb on March 25th, 2009

Cars are a pain in the bum in most cities, but as we’ve not yet hit the end of our pre-paid car hire agreement, we’ve decided to continue to camp in it a little way outside the city to get the maximum for our money. Once the hire term expires, we might move to an inner-city hostel or even a hotel should we need a few more days to explore. The nearest campsite to Auckland is in Avondale, just under ten kilometres away. And I’m sorry to report that it didn’t provide the warmest welcome either!

“Hello”, I beamed as I entered the office.
The lady stared at me in silence. And then stared a bit more. Just stared.
Great, I thought, we’re playing my favourite game of ‘who can stay silent the longest’, of which I am a master!
“Wot?”, her response, finally.
Taken aback, “warm welcome”, was my best response before requesting three night’s camping.

Later on, Squiffy asked a bookseller if he knew the way to a nearby landmark. “No (I’m not tourist information)”, was his first and final response.

The Kiwi’s are usually the friendliest of folk, but if this is an early indication of what to expect from the city, then you can keep it, mate.

Bay of Islands: ex-HMNZS Caterbury shipwreck

Posted by daveb on March 24th, 2009

“I penetrated Her Majesty’s wreck!”, proudly exclaims our diving instructor’s t-shirt. A much bigger boat than the Rainbow Warrior, the Canterbury was decommissioned, stripped of most sticky-outy bits and deliberately sunk about two years ago just off the coast of the Bay of Islands. As a young wreck, not too many fish have made it their home just yet, although the experts predict that within a few years it’ll easily rival the Rainbow Warrior for colourful reef- and sea life. To give you an idea of its size and scale, you can click here to see a photograph of the HMNZS Canterbury in it’s former glory.

It was a great dive indeed. We got to swim more or less front-to-back, entering the captain’s bridge and helicopter hangar, and poking our heads into some of the other rooms along the way on the rails of the deck. It’s actually quite fascinating to see a complete, perfectly-upright shipwreck underwater — I only wish that we had a ‘proper’ underwater camera with which to bring you photographs. Alas, we don’t.

Two more dives and a theory-recap later and I officially gained my “Advanced” Scuba-diving certificate. Congratulations to me!

We’ve had a lot of fun in the Bay of Islands and the weather–not withstanding one downpour–has been very kind to us too. Now it’s time to leave and we’ve decided to return south and spend our last few days in Auckland, New Zealand’s biggest city — and often mistakenly thought of as being the capital (it’s not, Wellington is).

Bay of Islands: Diving the Rainbow Warrior wreck

Posted by daveb on March 23rd, 2009

After sailing our yacht around the Bay of Islands, our feet didn’t get to stay on terra firma for long. The next day we were being bounced up and down on a RIB speedboat towards the underwater wreck of Greenpeace’s Rainbow Warrior, which was bombed by the French back in the Eighties. The boat was then floated to the Bay of Islands where it was deliberately sunk as a monument for the pleasure of divers. Twenty-two years later and the wreck is now home to a plentiful sea life and colourful reefs. Claire and I dived separately for our first dive as she had already undertaken a deep dive in Zanzibar as part of her training, whereas I had not and so had to display my proficiency to my instructor.

It wasn’t my first wreck dive–I swam alongside and over one in Fujairah–but it was the first time I had been allowed to swim into one, which was great. I’m pleased to tell you that the dive went really well for both Squiffy and I (rarely do we have a dive where everything ‘just works’). The second dive for me didn’t go so well however. It was closer to the shore and I was being examined on my buoyancy control. Improper weighting, strong currents and tiredness made this dive one of my least enjoyable. It didn’t help that I vomited into my mouthpiece and had to spend thirty minutes breathing sick-flavoured air. The smell of which actually made me vomit again — there’s nothing quite like the smell of puke to make you puke…

Claire told me afterwards that the best thing to have done in this situation would have been to remove the mouthpiece and let the fish eat the bits–they love it–although I wasn’t sure whether my instructor would have marked me down for this. It’s a bit gross: like discovering the ‘warm patch’ of water only to find out that the diver ahead has just peed in his or her wetsuit…

Breathing vomit aside, a most enjoyable day — looking forward to diving the much bigger ex-HMS Canterbury wreck next week. I’m off to brush my furry teeth. Again.

Bay of Islands: A life on the ocean wave

Posted by Squiffy on March 20th, 2009

Despite owning a sailing dinghy and having been on boats since I was little, I’ve always been less confident on yachts. There’s much more to consider, it seems. Whilst dinghys are a matter of get in and go, yachts involve scary things such as tide tables, navigation charts, Portland plotters and complicated Rules of the Road. Four years ago, in an attempt to finally get to grips with these things, I took my Day Skipper course and vowed that when I passed, I would charter a yacht and skipper it without supervision. The closest I’ve come so far is taking Dave and a few friends on a flotilla in Greece, where I had the back-up of professional crew and my good friend Kathryn, who also passed the course, on board for advice.

I decided it was time to try it alone. The Bay of Islands is a Mecca for yachties, the weather is good and the charter company hires out dinky yachts which are perfect for a skipper and one crew – just me and my darling DaveB. After a brief run through of the boat, the owner announced that the forecast was for 25-35 knot winds, so ‘you should have a good run’, he grinned. I hid my panic — 35 knots is a pretty much gale force and not ‘pottering about wind’ like I expected. I immediately changed down to ‘storm settings’, hoisting a storm jib and reefing the main sail.

With the wind behind us we raced along until lunch time. At midday, we sailed into a somewhat sheltered bay off Roberton Island to anchor up and eat our sandwiches and, incredilbly, we were treated to an amazing display by a pod of eight dolphins. They went from boat to boat, jumping out of the water, turning over and swimming right alongside us, I’ve never seen them that playful and close-up.

In the evening we anchored off Moturua Island and went ashore in our rowing boat for a quick walk. Back on board we drank a few beers whilst watching more dolphins, and pondered whether we could live a life on the ocean wave. We both decided a couple of days was probably our limit on a boat this size, especially when we had to sleep inches above the smelly toilet. Day two turned out to be a little less windy, so we made use of a bigger jib and set sail home. Due to the wind direction, the boat got a bit of a lean on and I turned around to see Dave had gone quiet and was almost hanging out of te boat. ‘What are you doing?’, I questioned him. Apparently he was acting as ballast to keep the boat upright, not because he was scared you understand, but because he was worried about the boat capsizing and the laptop (and therefore our photos) getting wet.

A few tacks and a sneaky use of the struggling 8hp motor, and we arrived safely home. Thank you to my crew, DaveB who gave me the confidence to go out and was particularly good on the anchor and halliards. There’ll be no stopping me now.