It’s a big day on the road, we have nearly 500kms to cover and need to make it before nightfall. The end of our trek today is a 45km gravel road in to the Gorge village. There’s much of the same landscape along the roads, my trusty companion and I reflect on the changes in our lives in recent years, we chat children, careers and lifestyles. We relish in the difference between this outback adventure and our usual travels to far off lands. We talk through our bucket list of destinations for when international travel is back although also plan for when the southern borders may open for a discovery tour of Australian vineyards!
A fuel stop in Croydon unravels yet another incredible historic town that nurtures its history through a collective of buildings, with free entry to visitors. One such building is the courthouse, upon entry you push a button and a voice requests that you take your seat in the jury box. Played out in front of you, is a crude, animated actual trial of a woman who was arrested for being drunk and disorderly and is destined to spend 30 days in the local jailhouse. Her husband taking his place alongside her for a similar offence.
Inside the Croydon Courthouse Museum
The back rooms of the courthouse house various displays from another era. I’m thankful for my current wardrobe and modern day medical facilities available to me. I can’t imagine the heat beneath the layers of cloth which was acceptable attire, note the gentleman’s 3 piece suit hanging by his hospital bed.
Clothing 1900s | Hospital bed
As we traverse through these lands, we cross over a multitude of flood ways and bridges, each one dryer than the last. It’s hard to fathom they’re nearing the end of the dry season and these creeks will be overflowing within a month or so.
Gilbert River
Georgetown appears through the haze of heat and discovery of an ant mud home. The home is constructed from bricks fashioned out of the nearby termite nests. Ingenious use of local, free supply although the thought that those termites may come to retrieve their stolen abodes, is the stuff horror movies are made of!
Home made from termite nest bricks!
Deb and I brace ourselves for the next part of our journey – the 45km drive across gravel road to reach our destination of Cobbold Gorge by dark.
When we hit the gravel road, it does not disappoint, I’m somewhat concerned for my new car – it’s certainly going to shake out any rattles and rolls. The shock absorbers will definitely need to be checked after this to and fro.
We arrive in to Cobbold Gorge just in time to relax in the pool enjoying sunset and watch the wildlife come to the watering hole. This oasis can be found in the middle of a bloody hot as hell cattle farm, a welcome relief from the heat.
We’re up bright and early for our Gorge Tour next morning. This is the most recent Gorge in Australia, only some 10,000 years old. Our guide is Graham, who has grown up in these parts and his knowledge of every plant, shrub, tree, native fruit or seed, is staggering to this City folk. He’s generous with time and allows us to discover and query him over each nook and cranny.
Tour Guide Graham – explaining the benefits of termites!
In a nutshell, there are several types of termites – some good, some bad. City folk would be familiar with the bad ones that eat our houses, whilst in the bush the humble termite is a major player in the eco system!
We meander along the tracks through the bush heading to our ultimate destination to view the actual Gorge (the bit with water), it’s hot, it’s humid, there’s not a lot of shade and then we arrive at a glass bridge that will enable us to view the Gorge from above.
The Gorge from above
I don’t have a lot of photos from the glass bridge – turns out I’m somewhat freaked out by the unnatural feel of walking across glass that could collapse at any moment and send me thundering to my death! Graham assures me the bridge is rated for 11 tonne – I’m not convinced!
At the end of the trail, we take our seats on a small electric boat which will take us through the Gorge – it’s spectacular, the temperature has dropped about 10 degrees, I expect the water to be cool, like a mountain stream, it’s warm or warmer than I expect. There are fresh water crocs although we don’t see any. My mate Deb, is tempting fate later in the day by taking a stand up paddle board tour – she’s trying to convince me to join. Oh HELL NO… There’s one rule in the north, don’t get in the darn water!!
Cobbold Gorge
Again, we find ourselves back in the pool, with drinks, watching another sunset!
We’re packed ready to face the gravel dusty, bouncy road although before we depart, we have one tour left – a heli-tour over the Gorge. To see this rock formation from the sky, brings another dimension to the layout, it’s in cubes almost, loaves of bread…
We’re enthralled with the beauty of this countryside – it’s just breathtaking at every turn, well except the bloody road!
With a planned early start to ensure we make our sunset destination of Karumba, we somewhat gingerly set about the day, reeling from last night’s frivolities! I tentatively check my bank balance to ensure adequate funds remain and to assess the damage!
We take to the road, which yet again provides an abundance of wildlife, station stock and an array of native flora to pass the time. We’re bewildered at the sheer number of termite nests that appear as morbid cemeteries along deserted roads!
Cementries of Termite Nests | Yet another dusty straight long road…
The journey is long, dusty and the roads reflect the many road trains that have travelled carrying livestock to ports, sale yards or slaughterhouses. The roads bear witness to the harshness of this country and road kill is littered throughout.
The half way point is the Burke and Wills Roadhouse, more famous by name than by reputation, it’s a sparse oasis for travellers, the apostle birds take refuge in the sprinkler that is attempting to maintain a patch of greenery. We take the mandatory loo break, refuel, grab a coffee and hit the tarmac again.
Further along the track, we come across the Hotel in Quamby (pop. 0), which sits vacant and decaying and is now in the throes of be engulfed by tumbleweeds. The roof has fallen, the floorboards rotted through – a quick google search indicates a pub which was in its finery in 1860 although long since abandoned.
Burke and Wills Roadhouse | 1860 deserted Quamby Hotel
We arrive in to Normanton (pop.1210) mid-afternoon and track down the historic trail, this small northern town made famous by a local call out for a mechanic (watch the video, it’s worth it, though mind the language), this town is a time capsule of the past. The original jail across from the relic police station and remains as a reminder of what’s in store for delinquents. There’s a monument to the 8.63m crocodile that was located and killed just downstream. The thought of this beast being in any stream, river or ocean is horrifying!
The absolute jewel in this town without a doubt, is the railway station – home of the Gulflander. From the gardens which reflect memorabilia, to the restored station buildings, to the surrounds which host a plethora of relics from railways past, this is an outstanding museum captivated in time. I commend the custodians for their dedication and care. Should you find yourself this way, I would time your visit to take a journey on the Gulflander which travels to Croydon one day, and returns the next.
Front garden with train wheel edges | The Gulflander | Historic Station
Our time is precious, there’s a sunset to get to. It’s popular with travellers from the East as the sun sets over the ocean! Karumba is our destination, home to Les Wilson Barramundi Discovery Centre, it’s a sleepy fishing village that once housed mining FIFO workers whose departure has returned the village to a place where people can get lost. Our hosts at Savannah Shores, who hail from Geelong some 6 years ago, provide a casual, relaxed welcome. We find ourselves wandering along a deserted shoreline, collecting shells immediately settle in to the laziness of village life.
Guided by locals, we make our way to The Sunset Tavern, aptly named as you’re able to sit amongst the trees with a cold bevvy and watch the sun as it melts into the ocean for sunset. A sensational afternoon, with idle chatter watching the world go by.
With my travelling companion now in tow, we arrive at the home of the greatest dinosaur display and collections in the world, the birthplace of Banjo Patterson’s “Waltzing Matilda” (there’s a museum dedicated to it) and it appears, renowned for its fly population as well.
Arriving in to this ,once again, small country town (pop. 954), you’re met by one of the most outstanding displays of main street art I’ve seen. The medium strip is lush green with a billabong representing the origins of this town originally known as Pelican Waterhole. The feature goes on to celebrate the local sheep industry, later in the evening coming alive through light.
A stroll through the shops reflects one historic building that now houses the wares of local artisans, the feature is the cash pulley system still in working order. In yesteryear, the retail assistant would put the money into the cash tin which is then sent by cable to the cashier, to ring through the register and return the change.
Billabong | Banjo Patterson Memorial | Sheep
The first part of my dinosaur discovery finds me standing side by side with a beast that roamed the planet some 95,000,000 years ago – it’s unfathomable that these skeletal remains have survived and here we are now, painstakingly unearthing them, and piece by piece reuniting this animal, so this boomer is able to understand the history of the land we find ourselves on.
The display and presentation at the Australian Age of Dinosaurs is sensational, the staff, animation and rocky outcrop, collectively, put you back in time!
Fossilised Conifer Branch | Painstaking removal of dirt around dinosaur vertebrae
It would be remiss of me not to mention the flies, rated as a moderate day, I can assure you they nearly drove me mad, I spent 4 hours continually waving them off and berated myself for leaving my ridiculously looking fly net hat in the car!
Arrival at Age of Dinosaurs | Fly Level Rating!!
Departing bright and early next morning, we trek some 110km out of town via a majority dirt road, to be astounded, enthralled and disbelieving what we’re seeing at the Lark Quarry dinosaur stampede. You simply cannot travel to this area without making this journey – to stand and gaze upon the footprints of where dinosaurs would have been taking a drink from the watering hole is remarkable. Again, the enthusiasm of the staff coupled with the animation, leads you into a world long past.
Dinosaur footprints left in mud for 95,000,000 years!!
Another highlight of this peculiar town, is the afternoon poetry performance of local – Gregory North who takes you on a lyrical ramble celebrating Banjo Patterson and his beloved Waltzing Matilda. Whilst being entertained, I’m charmed in to the late 1880’s and led through the tales of Banjo’s romance that led to his penning of this iconic Australian anthem.
Kynuna (pop. 20) is quite simply a spot on the map, made famous by a rustic, side of the road pub that is full of old country charm. It’s a mecca for the passer-by to stop, indulge in a brew and pen your name into history on the walls. We were greeted at the Blue Heeler by a swooping maggie whilst the jovial, welcoming publican fed brolgas on the porch.
McKinlay (pop. 30), of which we did not see one. This was a disappointing stop, the pub on the road, made famous by the iconic Australian tale of Crocodile Dundee, was closed. We later learned that the owners are also responsible for several other services to this town and their other duties had them calling.
Blue Heeler Hotel | Walkabout Creek Hotel
Onwards and westwards, we arrive into the dusty town of Cloncurry aka “the Curry” (pop. 3200), the mercury had risen and upon arrival at the Wagon Wheel, our chosen evening abode, we decide the evening will be best spent at the local. It should be noted, due to the heat in these parts, the hotels are sealed vaults, windows are shuttered, so at first appearance, you could be forgiven if you thought they were closed. We delve in to the inner sanctum to be pleasantly surprised by warmth and activities taking place. The Saturday afternoon races are winding up on the TAB screens and the footy plays over the bar.
The greeting from cheeky locals, who’ve made a day of it, immediately have us laughing along and joining in the craic. We chat to two fellas who work in the local sale yards with their boss and his wife, just a couple of seats along the bar. These men show signs of more than a few hard days’ work, they’re dusty, weathered by the sun and this Saturday evening, they relax and enjoy more than a few drinks to end their work week. We try in vain to get a commitment from one to join farmer wants a wife, although with a dimpled grin, he candidly tells us, it’s all bullshit!
Central Hotel, Cloncurry | Byron – the ‘Curry farmer boy!
From a night of poetry to brash conversations, our escapades in local pubs have embedded memories that will provide conversation fodder for future generations!
You’re welcomed in to Longreach by a staggering construction that houses not one but four planes, you know you’ve arrived at the home of one of Australia’s iconic and possibly well known brands – Qantas!
After travelling through the smaller towns, Longreach boasts a population of about 3,200 although with the visitors and students in town, I envisage that number will swell to double at least.
There’s a storm brewing and experience tells me to run for cover – I elect to yet again trade my car-camping for the ringers quarters just in the nick of time. The storm hits with fury and I take cover from flying debris. Caravanners and campers have taken cover whilst their camp sites crumble around them.
Set of four double rooms with shared bathroom facilities and kitchenette!
I peer from my safe have to spot four brolgas standing still as statues, taking the storm head on – it reminds me of Clooney taking on the Perfect Storm!
So weird to see these birds taking the storm head on! Note the blue marquee to the right!
Bright and early next morning, I’m ticking off bucket list items as I head to the Australian Stockman’s Hall of Fame. Whilst there are crowds, the numbers are drastically reduced due to COVID – a bonus for me! This display of our heritage is sensational, you would need a month of Sundays to stand and read through every story, of every unsung hero who has taken their place along the walls of this museum. The cinematic collation of the pioneering west left me with an unmatched sense of pride, that I had history in the outback
Ox Wagon | Selection of animal bells | General Merchant Wagon | Pioneering Cottage
A quick visit to the Longreach School of the Air to meet with the teachers to assure them of our commitment to bring them to Storyfest in 2021, I’m left inspired to make a difference to these children. During a very brief visit, I’m hatching a plan to bring Storyfest to the Outback! Again with other towns in the west, the street art reflects the abundance of talent, the following are students’ artwork from the School of the Air.
Horse and rider | Spiny anteater
The Qantas Founder’s Museum is next on the agenda and doesn’t fail to disappoint. The history of this organisation is truly remarkable, the determination and perseverance by a small collective of families has ensured the iconic flying kangaroo remains in operation for us today. For a plane buff, this would be their utopia!
Planes – all of them!
I’m left wondering how some of these beasts managed to not only live out a worthy travel itinerary although they’ve found themselves highlighted in an outback museum for thousands of visitors each year to reminisce of yonder years and be thankful for the luxury (yes, Jetstar luxury) that we have available to us at this time.
To finish off my visit to Longreach, I join the Drover’s Sunset Cruise coupled with Smithy’s Dinner and Show. The cruise takes us along the Thomson river which is an oasis in this arid desert, the milk coffee coloured water laps the banks which are alive with wildlife and what strikes me most, is the erosion around the tree roots leaving a majestic sculptured array of natural art.
We disembark at Smithy’s for our camp oven dinner and of course, Barramundi is on the menu. The setting under the night sky fades away the harshness of the dirt underfoot. We’re entertained by storyteller “Hawkesy” whose comedic tales and songs have us knee slapping and toe tapping, in no time.
Love his stage companions Arthur and Henry!
My friend and travel companion, Debbie, flew in to Longreach and will join my travels through to Cairns – look out “Outback” – Girls are on tour…
My last day in Charleville is somewhat slower – catch up on some washing. I ventured in to town to take in Historic House and the Hotel Corones tour. Historic House is a time warp, there are so many artefacts jammed into one small place, it’s hard to appreciate what you’re actually seeing – worth the $7 entry charge just to admire these old vehicles
Ambulance | Fire EngineHomemade wheelchair for a young boy!
My mother recalls the young boy scooting around the streets in this chair!
Again the tour of the Hotel Corones was a walk through history, the hotel being a place that has hosted many an aristocrat in its day. These days, it’s tired – the tours assist to keep the doors open!
Augathella (pop. 430) about an hour north east, seriously a quite small town, especially on a Sunday morning! The best cup of coffee, the ONLY cup of coffee I could find was at the garage on the highway and it was a push button machine – no barista in sight!
I quick drive through town which yields some delights –
Another painted water towerNow the Augathella Men’s Shed although I’m thinking old cinema…
Tambo (pop. 400) known recently by the fame of Tambo Teddies, although this small town also boasts the only crash site of Qantas!
For me, it was an opportunity to visit my uncle – my last visit here was in 1977. I remember taking the billy cans out to the milk truck and getting them filled with milk still warm from the cows!
Unfortunately a storm came through in the afternoon, so I missed the highlight of Ben’s Chicken Races at the pub, I’m led to believe it’s a daily occurrence and lots of fun to be had!
A drive through Blackall (pop. 950), home the original Black Stump , a marker in which surveyors used to establish latitude and longitude measurements.
I had also seen signs for the Blackall Woolscour, I’ll be honest, I had no idea what a Woolscour was! Wow, this was a diamond in the rough. With a working steam engine which powers the Woolscour, the machine which washes the wool after shearing, prior to export!
After visiting the Sheep Station, this tour gave me the next step in the process of one of Australia’s biggest exports! Absolutely fascinating, quirky tour guide Ian didn’t fail to entertain on my personal tour! Tours run hourly on the hour and they’re just waiting for the visitors to arrive.
Steam engine | Looking down the line of the Woolscour
I had taken an award winning video of the Woolscour in action although for some reason it hasn’t saved. So follow this link to view the promo video from their site.
Barcaldine (pop. 1500) is the next stop on my trek, like other smaller towns, steeped in history. Most notably the Tree of Knowledge and home of the first industrial strike by shearers for fairer wages and working conditions – home to the birthplace of the Australian Labor Party! Whilst it’s great to look at the sights along the way, I love that I’m learning about Australian history – bits and pieces I kind of knew but not really.
The significance of that first strike is the reason we have regulations and basic wages, employers are bound to pay a fair wage for fair work. I know it doesn’t always work out that way and there will always be those that rort the system, from both sides.
Pledging allegiance to the Southern Cross! (Artist: Milynda Rogers)Tree of Knowledge
In 2006, the Tree of Knowledge was vandalised through poisoning, a new memorial was developed by award winning m3architecture. The wooden structure is fashioned in such a way, as to reflect the original tree.
A theme that is found in each of these smaller towns and in fact, in every town I’ve been to so far, has been the artwork – murals and sculptures adorn every wall, every park and roundabout!
Giant Cod, St GeorgeHorse and Jockey at Tambo Racecourse (Artist: Milynda Rogers)Xylophone bench – Barcaldine
Artist – Milynda Rogers from Scrapmetalsheila is firmly installed in western Queensland, I encourage you to visit her site and look for her pieces as you travel from town to town!
After the exploits by last night’s fire, I gather myself to head off early this morning to delve into history and discover the best kept secret of World War II! I meet my tour group and expecting an old country fellow to tell us tales as old as time, we’re greeted by Sam from the north of England! I’d say from the era of the late 1990’s!
Sam starts out by asking how many Americans we have on the tour – there are none, he smiles and lets us know, he can speak more candidly about the happenings that went on in Charleville.
Our first stop is by the airport, over 300 Australians built 101 buildings for the Americans to take up residency as a line of defence during the second world war. Following the war, the Americans bunked out, buildings and all.
If you take a look at a B17 bomber, one of it’s feature is the bubble in the nose, where the bombardier takes his place, he’s the guy who coordinates the dropping of the bombs.
To assist in this process there is an instrument called the Norden Bomb-Sight, a machine who enabled a more accurate shot, to avoid more civilian casualties. My understanding was this was relatively new intelligence and to ensure the patents, upon returning from a mission, the bombardier personally delivered these machines to the “secret” location which was guarded 24/7!
Norden Bomb-Sight
A hut encased with 30cm concrete walls that has withstood an attempted demolition by a digger!
I give you the Norden Bomb Vault:
Not the original door! NB: damage from digger front left corner
Our next stop takes us to look through a fence at an original plane hangar, another small hut which is the communications tower – interestingly still in use today. Charleville sits some 1,300m above sea level and is conduit for Brisbane to relay messages to other parts of the world. No wonder my phone drops out on the Gold Coast, my line of sight to Charleville must be compromised.
We then proceed to visit the “Bitumen Baths”. It is believed the US base commander wanted to ensure his men were kept clean and parasite free, fit for war! He commanded that each week, the men would bathe or ‘dip’ in crude grave like baths that had been fashioned from the earth and lined with bitumen to contain the unknown chemical solution. I’m sure we would all acknowledge hardships soldiers go through during a time of war. Take a minute to image these men lining up for their weekly chemical dip in a bitumen lined bath in summer temperatures that reach 48°c!
Bitumen Baths
We then move through a variety of concrete slabs showing us where the mess hall would have been, the dance hall and so on. An interesting note to take from this tour – US military were paid nearly 4 times more than their Australian counterpart working side by side. The Australian soldiers worked tirelessly in what can only be described as the harshest of Aussie bush conditions – heat, flies, lack of shade. The Americans demanded air conditioning in their hangars due to the heat, again when they left they took them home with them as well.
Whilst Charleville holds its head high and has claimed its rightful place in the history books, its not hard to understand why so many ‘villies (Charleville locals), look back on that time with loathing.
PSS – Sam the northern England lad, did a great job! An interesting tour and well worth the $15 and a bit of time.
The rest of my day saw me visit a far distant cousin and then to return to my camp site and sit under the shade of a tree reading my book until the sun when down.
For my evening escapades, stargazing is on the agenda. I arrive with anticipation at the Cosmos Centre and take my seat next to a power telescope that is going to transport me to another galaxy! It did not disappoint. Away from the city lights, the night sky is truly magnificent, we were also fortunate the moon’s arrival was late as well which provided the perfect backdrop for a starry night. From Mars, Jupiter, Saturn and beyond, we each took our turn looking through the powerful telescope to see the beauty beyond.
We are quickly reminded we’re really just looking at the light bouncing of dust particles and that our sun, is at half life. Destined to only continue to shine for another 4.5 billion years. I’m going to let that struggle go for generations long after I’m gone to worry about.
I arrive in to Cunnamulla and park up near the Shire Council which boasts the Cunnamulla Fella, an iconic Australian character made famous in a song by Slim Dusty. I’m struck by the beauty of this small country haven, it’s neat as a pin and the is literally a place to stop and smell the roses.
I’ve been recommended the Cunnamulla Cafe by fellow travellers. It doesn’t disappoint. I’m greeted by Charmaine and Vicki — I’m after breakfast, a big breaky, they suggest – sure I say…
Two slices of toast, hash brown, tomato, two full size sausages, steak, crumbed steak, onion, two eggs, beef patty and several slices of bacon.
There wasn’t a smashed avo in sight, this was all country, down to every piece of meat laid out. It was enough to feed a family of four! Including my coffee – breakfast set me back less than $20 – true good old fashioned country service and food. If you pop by Cunnamulla, this is a definite must! You’ll be welcomed with a smile, you know it must be good, whilst I was there, the place was a constant flow of locals calling in for morning rituals.
After packing up my leftovers, no I could not eat it all… I hit the road again headed for Charleville. The birthplace of my mother and sister and where I lived for a while as a toddler – history from both sides of the family.
I’ve checked in to my home for the next three nights – the Charleville Bush Cottage and Caravan Park – a big sign at the entrance warn you “Non-Smokers only welcome here”, as an anti-smoker from way back, I love it…
I’ve set up camp under the shade of a tree and popped a bottle of bubbles to sit back and enjoy! As I sit here, campers pull up to say hi, I camped with them at Charlotte Plains two nights ago – we’ll meet by the fire for a drink later.
The “Champcorka” (thanks Janine) is growing with memories of my travels. I did wear the hat during the sheep station tour much to the amusement of others! It’s a talking piece, I’ll wear it to the fireside tonight, it’s sure to spark a laugh or two. I’m thinking I need to balance it more – I had this thought of working my way around but it’s a bit lopsided, I’ll keep you posted.
I hit the road out of Goondiwindi after a somewhat disrupted sleep – nothing too serious just the difference between a bed with a luxurious lambswool under blanket to the harsh reality of a camp bed in the back of the car! It’s different, this princess definitely felt the pea.
My trek today – Goondiwindi to Charlotte Plains, a sheep station about 40km short of Cunnamulla with an Artesian Bore and baths by the bore!
There’s a pioneer cemetery by the side of the road, so I stopped to pay my respects to these pioneering families whose hardships would exceed what is known in this world today.
I make my way to St George who’s riverside is hard to pass. I pause to take my lunch by the side of the river next to the Jack Taylor Weir that has been in action since 1953.
I encounter many travellers doing the same and conversations flow with ease. It’s heartwarming to know that during this time of COVID, Queenslanders are still travelling and making the most of seeing their own State.
Jack Taylor’s Weir | River on the other side
As I hit the road again, I’m mindful of the road trains and large vehicles transporting farming equipment, these beasts take over the roads and I’m still cringing as I pass them by.
The further west I travel you see the changes in the flora and the colours by the side of the road. It some areas, it’s barren they haven’t seen rain in a long time. Some have been fortunate, so there’s greenery and trees with leaves.
Goondiwindi to St George | St George to Cunnamulla
Upon arrival at Charlotte Plains, I’m immediately hesitant as I leave the main road, I’m aware I don’t have phone coverage, I wonder will my emergency sos on my phone work out here? I forge ahead, I take note of the kms on the car, mindful that I can walk back to the main road if need be.
I continue to drive some 12km on this property and still the homestead is not in sight. I query whether I’ve taken the wrong turn and then I remember, these stations are bigger than some countries! I finally come upon the homestead and know instinctively this farm has seen brighter days.
Upon arrival at the bore site, it’s a popular place, there must be 20 campsites popped up with everyone enjoying the spoils of the bathtubs by the bore! I set up camp and popped the champers and take my place along the bore’s edge to raise a glass to the sunset!
The Turnworth bore was sunk in 1892 and water has spewed forth at 40c continuously since!
Day 2 at Charlotte Plains, sees me jumping in with property owner, formidable woman and one of the most inspiring women I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. Robyn collects myself and a couple of other campers for a Station tour, she’s tiring in her later 70’s, she stopped doing tours every day but I’m sure the additional $$ from the tour help meet the crushing blows of a long drought!
Charlotte Plains is steeped in history, from the original McDonald brothers who made their way from Scotland in 1860’s to take hold of 385,000 acres. They gave their lives to this property, their graves in the property’s cemetery – one passing at age 46 the other at 48! By 1914, the property ran up to 67,000 sheep! Robyn’s family have had the property for 98 years, when her father passed, her mother took the reigns, upon her mother’s passing, Robyn returned to take her place as the next matriarch, who I’m sure will be interred in the cemetery beside her beloved husband Reid and her mother.
I can only imagine the harshness of living on a Station – the very brief look in to this life, leaves me with absolutely no doubt, it’s not a life I would choose. Robyn and one employee, now tend to some 1,800 sheep – the flock which has been reduced over the years due to the hardship of drought. They’re in a good place at the moment, they don’t have to feed them. I’m staggered at what the sheep might eat, the grounds seem dry and infested with burr!
Robyn shares the tales of the annual shearing plan, there’s a hierarchy of shearers and this impacts where they take their place in the shed. Robyn fondly retells the story of a female shearer from South Australia, who was quite, unassuming, took her place down the line. She out-sheared the blokes and racked up 299 sheep in one day. Each sheep can weigh somewhere between 40 to 50kg. Imagine lugging 299 of them in one day and then shear the wool from them! This is a woman, I would definitely be in awe of!
The Shearing ShedJack’s wagon and Willie’s camel trailerMeet Robyn…
I depart early from Charlotte Plains, after a storm blew through last night, I had to frantically pack my campsite before it was blown to the fields! Early morning visitors kept me grounded to country.
Have you seen a more Aussie photo?
I promise an update of the corked hat is on the way…
The day starts later than I had planned, the issue – I was unable to find ice! It seems the long weekend of near perfect weather on the Gold Coast had everyone in the outdoors, at the beaches and of course, in need of ice to keep their summer beverages ice cold!
I take the route I’ve travelled many times before heading towards the Toowoomba ranges. I have the option to take the new bypass road, I recall Denis Wagner talking through the steps to get this road built and what it meant for people of the West. It is a remarkable road – a cliché, although when you drive across the expanse of the viaduct, an engineering phenomenon, an 800m long bridge that removes the need for vehicles to navigate the deep terrain, it’s hard not to be impressed by a stretch of road.
I’ve downloaded an audiobook to keep me company – a Nicholas Sparks, nothing too heavy for my first day on the road – if I inadvertently miss a page or two, I’ll fill in the lost paragraphs relatively easy. You’ll know Sparks’ work – “The Notebook”, “Dear John” etc.
I settle in to the drive ahead, some 400km to the west. I’m absentmindedly taking in the sights whilst listening to Sparks navigate his way through his latest romantic tale when the story takes a turn – it’s getting somewhat hot and heavy, am I reliving the nightmare of “50 Shades”? At one point, laughing so much, that I nearly veered off the edge of the road, I fear a bathroom break is in store! I calm myself and get back into concentrating on the road ahead, I then start wondering what the country folk must have thought about this lunatic in the car veering off the verge – if only they knew!
I pass through many small towns along the way, taking in Milmerran, a place my sister considers retiring to. A small sleepy town whose painted water tank greets you as you cross the town border. A piece of the Australian Silo Art Trail.
Celebrating Cobb & Co.
As I continue on the long stretch between Milmerran and Goodiwindi, I note the remnants of bush fire season. The twisted branch with whispers of new growth forging from the charred remains. It reminds me of the perils of country life. A bush fire destroys everything in its path, the flora and fauna, the crops, the homes, the people. As City folk, it’s hard for me to comprehend how lives and livelihoods can be changed by a flash of lightning, a careless discard of a cigarette butt or a thrown bottle that becomes a flint for the suns rays.
along the road…
I arrive at my destination the Goondiwindi Holiday Park where I’ll test out my new camping set up. I’ve camp before although not using my car as a bed! The park is clean and tidy, well cared for. There’s a pool and spa – I’m going to give that a test drive as well. First I set up my camp – I think about which way I should park – east/west, north/south? I’m thinking about the sun coming through the car windows tomorrow morning!! It’s an hour before I settle into my camp chair, feet up on the stool with a glass of bubbles in hand. There’s not a lot of people around, the park is quite. A scattering of grey nomads.
Gotta love that glass!Camp set up | Kitchen with essentials | Bed
After enjoying the peace and tranquility of my campsite and a glass of bubbles, I decide to head for a swim and spa. With Goondiwindi getting down to 13c overnight, the pool was like a dip in arctic waters. As I stepped into the warm waters of the spa and took my place in front of the jets, the stress of city life was pummelled out of me. I succumbed to the sounds of galahs in the surrounding trees, the road trains in the distance and the hum of the spa.
Communal fire place | Pool and spa | Camp kitchen
If you’re heading west and would like a break for a day or two – I can definitely recommend the park – the facilities were spotlessly clean and well maintained!
I wake this morning to the sound of birds in the trees, I’ve missed this since moving to my beachside apartment, I pack up, rearing to go as I head towards my next destination – a Sheep Station…
One of the things I love about blogging my journeys, is the excitement, interaction and suggestions I gather before I embark upon my intrepid journey. During a conversation with friends over the impending outback adventure, the subject of the almighty Australian fly settles into the conversation. How will I cope? What actions will I take? I’ll need spray, a swat, a twig of eucalyptus, a netted hat – ah, I quell the chatter – I’m more of a cork kind of gal…
Fortunately for me, I have friends and colleagues who hold me to my word. I arrive at the desk on Monday morning to find I’m the new owner of swankiest wide brim hat that both Steve ‘Crikey’ Irwin and the Leyland Brothers would be proud of.
There is much ado as to the best way to secure the corks – where will I gather the corks from? Alas, the solution is immediately upon me. The hat will be become my journey, it will develop over time – the corks, will come from the champagne I drink along the way…
So here’s my commitment to you – for each blog post, I’ll give you an update of the hat – I believe it will be a personality all of its own, so a name is appropriate – thoughts?
Here she is – the original cork, a reminder of where the journey began…
It’s been some time since I’ve written anything and with a 5 week impending drive tour of Queensland, it’s a great opportunity for me to get back into a daily writing schedule.
My usual holidays would be abroad although in the middle of a pandemic, with not only National borders closed but State borders, I find myself seeking out alternatives. With Victoria in lockdown and residents not permitted to travel 5km from their home – I’m certainly luckier than some.
Travelling through Queensland was something shelved for when I retire and am no longer able to travel overseas however, with the trip a couple of weeks away, the planning all but sorted – I’m somewhat excited at the prospect of visiting places I’ve never been and revisiting some favourites.
I’m a camper (well, a camper of sorts) so I’m decking out the Honda HRV with a canopy and throwing the camp mattress in the back. I’m taking a leaf out of KonMarie’s book and will be taking but the bare essentials!
Join me on my solo trip in the Outback, I’m sure there will be a laugh or two, there will definitely be champagne – a shout out to those country pubs – get the Veuve in! Although I’m a bit partial to a Moët and Chandon Iced Imperial Rosè at the moment, thanks to my friends at Mamasan! I think I’ll stack the roof racks!
I’m not sure even where to start this, so let’s cut to the chase.
After a whirlwind four months in Europe from May to August 2016, I returned home to set goals in my personal life and work. Making a pledge to ensure a better work/life balance. Taking time out to smell the roses!
I’m not sure what happened to the bloody roses, it seems I landed in more bullshit that anyone could have ever imagined.
Let’s set the scene – I left the family home at the end of November 2012 – there are many reasons for this and if I’m honest, it had been coming a long time. However, when, let’s just say things changed in the bedroom, I knew my now ex-husband had been ‘elsewhere’. Despite his denial – a woman knows! This set in motion what was to become the most turbulent 4 years of my life.
The final nail in the coffin came in December 2016.
My ex had been born in Malacca, Malaysia and the family emigrated to Perth in the mid ’60s. They faced many challenges despite which, they flourished. With 5 children in a new country, the matriarch stormed ahead to set up a new life for her family. I would like to say I have admiration for this woman, although the admirable qualities are quelled by the pain and torture she has caused to my family over the past 30 years, I struggle to find an ounce of compassion. Without a single doubt in my mind, she was the major cause of the demise of our marriage. Again, the reasons are many although the hypocrisy of the Catholic religion yet again shows its true colours!
Godfrey has never returned to Malacca since the day his family left as a small child, he will tell you he has no clear memory and therefore no connection although in December 2016, he had made the decision to travel to back to Malacca with his mother, brother and sister and their families. The girls and I were sincerely happy that he had made the decision to return, to go with his family, to relive their childhood. He talked to the girls about taking them the following year, something I had hoped would come to fruition so the girls could learn more about their Malaysian heritage.
As the departure date neared, the trip was falling apart – his mother and sister had pulled out although he was still going with his brother and family. As he was walking out the door, I casually asked when his brother would arrive. “The 28th!” I was shocked, here was a man, returning to his country of birth for the first time in over 50 years, travelling away from his children at Christmas, to spend it on his own in a hotel room.
I have known this man intimately for over 30 years – this would never happen! I call bullshit. He argued that I was forever causing problems when his family was involved. I’ve never been a snooper – I decided to snoop!
I started on his Facebook – turns out there was a lovely photo of a young Indonesian lady “Risky Janita” snuggled in the arms of Godfrey, as her profile pic! A very quick search of photos showed several images of holiday snaps and lovers embraced throughout Asia. The catalyst and the turning point for me to shed him from my life, was when I realised he had gone on holidays with Risky Janita instead of attending his youngest daughter’s high school graduation. A decision, I’m sure he will regret for the remainder of his days although for me, the point of no return. It really didn’t shock me, it was more of an “I knew it” moment.
This is just one of the many photos that we were able to locate on the internet.
I had vowed when we separated I would keep things as amicable as possible, to keep the balance for the children. We were still living in the same house, albeit living very separate lives. I have always been very honest and upfront, telling my ex each step of the way – when I moved out of the bedroom – the house, when I filed for divorce etc. I had always said if there was a third party involved, we could no longer carry on the way we had been. My new discovery was the ammunition I needed to catapult myself into a new life and separate from the destructive lifestyle we had all been living in for the past few years.
I hatched a plan to move Godfrey out of the family home – he had obviously moved on. I started planning how I would assist him to find a place in Brisbane, near to his work and get him all set up in an apartment. Make the move easy for him. I started packing his bedroom and happened across an external hard drive in the bottom of a laundry basket. To say I had opened “Pandora’s box” doesn’t even scratch the surface.
So in a nutshell, what did I find…
$100k cash in a bank account
An apartment in Batam, Indonesia
Several email addresses
Holiday bookings to various Asian destinations
I can back date Risky Janita to 2012 before I left the marriage and here I had the proof. Godfrey spent time for work in Batam in 2009, so my gut tells me it had been going on since then.
Any second thoughts I may have had about my decision to send Godfrey packing was lost, I took to the task like a rat up a drainpipe. I booked storage pods and proceeded to pack him into a box. 25 years of ‘in case stuff’ went in to boxes with his name on it.
Keeping to my word of always telling him up front what’s happening – I had text him when I found the photo on Facebook (heard nothing), I sent him photos of him being packed into boxes (heard nothing).
I had found Booking.com holiday at the Mandalay Bay Resort on Singapore harbour for New Year’s, which I promptly cancelled (non-refundable). Let’s see if that jars him into action. Upon arriving at the luxury resort with his girlfriend and her child (not sure if it’s his) to find his reservation cancelled, he hastily put himself on a plane to return to the Gold Coast, which was no longer home.
I hold no shame for what happened – it’s not my shame to carry. I was deceived by someone I loved, by someone I had entrusted with not only my life but the lives of my children.
I’m not a wallflower that lets the world pass me by – if I have a fault, it’s that I trusted too much or is it, that I just didn’t care…
I’ve procrastinated writing about my visit to fair shores of Ireland – it was such an emotional visit; I don’t want the bubble to burst. I’m frightened if I write the words on paper, they may erase from memory and they are truly memories to be cherished!
After an extremely amusing flight from Denmark via Belgium, I excitedly board the flight to Belfast to visit with friends from our Saudi days and who I hadn’t seen for about 8 years. Paul and Maura were the first people I contacted, over 12 months earlier, when I had originally planned this vacation to work around when they would be home, so I could be sure to see them.
The first thing I noticed was young Conor driving! Mairead has grown into the most beautiful young lady, Jack was sporting facial hair and my dear friends, Paul and Maura – just the same – as welcoming as ever! I only had a quick visit with Paul, as he was due to return to the desert and I was thrilled that I was able to celebrate their wedding anniversary with them.
I offered to cook dinner for the family and Paul’s mother and sister joined us. Whilst out shopping I tried to duck out of the way of the ever watchful Maura to grab a bunch of flowers for them. In my haste, it turned out I grabbed artificial flowers – the first time in my life I’ve purchased artificial – it wasn’t until I went to put them into the car, I realised the error of my ways! Deciding they would enjoy a laugh every time they looked at the flowers – I proceeded with my everlasting gift!
It was great to catch up with Paul, albeit a very short visit although his hospitality continued in his absence, he was kind of enough to fill his cellar and leave us the key! Prosecco, Prosecco, Prosecco – bottle, after bottle, after bottle! I’ve finally found a family who can certainly give me a run for my money, I’ve decided my Irish heritage must be the strongest gene I possess!
After a few days, I decided I needed to detox from the Moran household. I took off for a few days to see the Irish countryside. I headed towards Enniskillen which has its city centre located on an island surrounded by the River Erne. With many 14th century buildings, it’s a paradise for the history buffs. The view from the river shows the city in a different light!
Leaving Enniskillen behind me I’m heading in the general direction of Galway in the South – I notice when I cross the border from North to South, the speed signs are now in kilometres as opposed to miles, the road markings also reflect a European flavour – put my Irish pounds away and dig back out the Euro. On my travels I happened across, Carrick-on-Shannon – steeped in history, the town was a picture perfect example of what you imagine a small Irish country town to be.
After checking in to literally the local Inn – I ventured to a pub that opened in 1879 – spent the night sitting at the bar listening to a great local muso and chatting to the many patrons who just couldn’t get over the fact I was here on my own from Australia. Here in Carrick-on-Shannon, to be sure!
Finally arriving in Galway about 3.00pm the next afternoon, I quickly jumped on my Airbnb App and had accommodation within about 10 minutes I found my way to meet ‘Andrew’s Da’ who would show me around. It turns out I had arrived in Galway in time for their racing carnival – it appears to be the biggest event of the year.
I was treated to a personalised tour of the Galway district, visiting the oldest pub in Ireland – one from the 1700’s and ended up spending the evening with the most gorgeous couple as their son had listed their place on Airbnb and I was their first guest! I had a few hours to myself and yes, you’re right visited another pub! Met a group of young people who had been travelling for over 6 months with dreadlocks, tattoos, piercing etc. I don’t think I’ve enjoyed a more interesting afternoon – absolutely wonderful group of young people.
I cannot explain the hospitality of the Irish – you really must visit to truly experience their openness and welcoming nature.
After Galway, I excitedly headed in the direction of Dublin, where I was to meet more friends from my Saudi days – Mark, Marty and two boys who were now men – Colin and Darragh. Marty was working, so Mark met me and we did a double deck bus tour of Dublin, yet again expanding my knowledge of Irish heritage – the divide between the Irish and the English. I urge anyone that visits to take particular notice of the letterboxes – something I definitely would have missed. Thank you Mark!
Deciding that we just didn’t get through all the gossip we needed to, I convinced Marty to jump in the car – literally 5 mins before I left – and come back to Belfast/Antrim with me. I was off to see the monolithic tombs – older than the pyramids. It was disappointing that when I arrived, I found out to actually visit the tombs you need to book weeks in advance. I visited the museum and of course, it’s now on my bucket list to return. It’s a definite MUST SEE, if you visit Ireland – absolutely fascinating and I had never heard of them.
We arrived back in Antrim to begin a weekend that I will treasure for the rest of my life. The only thing that would have made this weekend better, is if my girls – Manon and Dana had been with us. Thank goodness for modern technology – skype was a blessing!
Marion and her daughter Chelsea – Manon’s nearest and dearest friend from Saudi had arrived along with Hayley, who I hadn’t seen since Saudi days. I can honestly say I am truly blessed to have these wonderful people in my life. I know, sounds corny right – but we had the most amazing few days together – there was 15 years between our visits, it was like I had seen them yesterday and we laughed and shared our stories, our children’s achievements, we discussed family, friends and vow to not let it be another 15 years between get togethers!
Words cannot express to Maura, Paul, Jack, Connor and Mairead what my visit to them has meant. Sheila, Leonard, Kate and families – you know you’re now my family too. Sweet, sweet Kaleb! As I write these words, I pause to wipe away the tears (ok I’ve had a few Jameson’s but I really mean it) I’ve had the time of my life! There’s a song in there somewhere. I can’t wait for their next visit to Australia, although I fear it will be me back to Ireland again!
I’m off on my next adventure and of course, more tears! I’m heading back to Edinburgh with Marion and Chelsea and can’t wait to see Connor and Ryan. The Agate family were my family when mine were absent – I have loved, and love, these children as my own. They were beautiful, accomplished, gorgeous young adults! Connor still the rascal of the family – who doesn’t really remember me and couldn’t work out why this bloody Aussie woman knew so many intimate details of when he was small. I firmly believe that if another 15 years goes by before I see them again, my heart will still ache for these children as it does now. Yes, more tears!
Although whilst in Scotland, I have fulfilled a tick off my bucket list – I drive my children crazy, my favourite movie of all time – Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves – not so much for the movie but Bryan Adams music – I’m a die-hard fan of Bryan Adams and the only way to listen to his music is loud and singing along!
Imagine my sheer joy at finding out that he has a concert…
Bryan baby – singing just for me and my new friends
So so so COLD!!
Not Bryan Adams – but Goldie boy performing at Edinburgh Festival…
I leave Edinburgh with a promise that I’ll return next year. I only hope the children will venture down under and visit us in Australia!
My next and final destination of this amazing journey is to visit with Kerry, Richard and Ben. It’s an unusual friendship – Kerry and I – although I know, Kerry and I will be friends forever – many years may pass until we see each other although how friendship will always be treasured. Ben – my goodness, an amazing young man who has life ahead of him and of course, who I would love to see my way in Australia!
Kerry came to London to spend the last few days of this intrepid journey with me – the memories of the Harrods’ pastry counter will be forever sketched in my memory as a favoured event! The champagne, the chatter and the Kinky Boots (a story for another time) will bring a smile to my face for a lifetime.
There’s so much more I could write about Ireland, Scotland and England and my visits with the people – I really can’t explain how much their friendship means to me.
I actively encourage all those that read this post, to embrace the friendship – step out of your comfort zone, you never know who you may meet that will change your life.
Oh Paul, I’ve started stocking the fridge with Veuve – let me know the arrival date!
Guilty, guilty, guilty – I had to get that written so I can start on my next journey. I’m on plane to my next venture…
Ok so I’ve decided that I could get used to this lifestyle – I love being ‘on the road’ meeting people from every corner of the world, hearing their stories, their travels. Every person I’ve met has had their own opinion of me travelling on my own! When I walk into the hotel bar at 10.00pm at night and there’s a group of about 15 businessmen – I split the group liking the parting of the red sea to get to the bar to order my nightly caffeine (with a shot of whiskey) fix – they joke and laugh and dig me about being Australian and ordering coffee! Inevitably the conversation turns to me travelling on my own – they’re in shock, they’re astounded – “Are you not worried?” they ask. “About what – running into a group of delinquent men such as yourselves all held up in the hotel bar? No I’m not.” I take my coffee and head back to my room with a little sneer on my face.
I’m constantly astounded by how many people have thought I’m brave to do this on my own – I don’t see it as brave. I think it’s more about believing in myself, knowing that I’m a confident strong independent woman who is comfortable with my own company and readily able to talk to a variety of different people from all walks of life.
Some of my highlights:
dinner with an older couple from Belgium who were holidaying in Italy;
a day on a boat in the Ligurian Sea with a group of young lads on summer break from University in the States;
spending an afternoon at the Baths in Hungary chatting with a group of British Police celebrating one’s impending wedding (yep, Buck’s Party);
an afternoon of beer tasting with an Irish couple in Bruges;
dinner with a Danish family in their home in Copenhagen;
an interesting flight with five Danish lads heading to a music festival in Belgium;
an evening in Galway with the parents of my Airbnb host;
an elderly lady with an amazing Seaside Thistle, who had never met an Australian;
an invitation to stay with a family at their holiday home in Guardbridge, near St Andrews in Scotland;
a group from Aberdeen, who shared a drink and a taxi before Bryan Adams concert;
It’s really not hard, start by people watching and just pass the time of day with someone. You’ll be amazed at how friendly people are – if you just listen they’ll share their story and you’ll get the chance to share yours.
Challenge – #Ellen, #Getaway, #SoloFemaleTravel – let me know if you know someone who would like a 52-year-old woman on her own, to travel the world and encourage other woman, to take a step, trust themselves, that they can do this – it’s ok to spread their wings and fly.
If travelling is something you’ve dreamed of doing and you’re not sure where to start, I’m happy to help – Ask me – I’m listening.
The hardest thing about travelling on your own, is mastering the selfie!
The train (THALYS) from Paris to Bruges, was definitely an experience. Seats were luxurious with meals served, similar to those on the plane, although with actual cutlery! Complimentary Wi-Fi and plenty of wine!
Bruges was full of surprises, a definite must-see. If you’re travelling in Europe, don’t hesitate to add this gorgeous village to your itinerary. I had planned to stay for two days and ended up staying for five. I could go back and spend a month. It’s cobblestoned streets, lined by the most life altering chocolate shops can only be best described as a little part of Utopia! As well as the finest sweet shops, there are several extraordinary delicatessens selling cheese from the Gods. I think, without a doubt, Bruges was the most decadent place I’ve visited.
For those of you who are beer drinkers – they have over 1200 types of beers available to suit all palates. I spent an adventurous afternoon on a stool in 2be Beer Wall attempting to try as many beers as possible although I fear all I took away from this escapade was an extremely bad case of beer gut!
Coconut Beer
Cherry Beer
A selection!
Whilst meandering through this fairy-tale medieval town, I happen upon a traditional folk dancing evening, held once per month in the local square (food market by day), it’s an opportunity for locals to gather, celebrate and learn dances from bygone eras.
From Bruges, I also spent the day visiting WWI sites which incorporated Flanders Fields, the In Flanders Field Museum, German bunkers along with several memorial sites and graveyards for various Nations who were involved in the war. It was a solemn day and to actually see trenches and dugouts gives you a bit more of an understanding of the hardships our soldiers went through during these battles. I was astounded to learn, that every week, the Belgium Army travels through the fields, collecting the live ammunition the farmers have uncovered during the week’s work. The day of our visit, we happened across several pieces of live ammo awaiting collection.
Tyne Cot Cemetery
Graves
Trench
Wild Poppies
Live ammo awaiting collection
German Graveyard
Prior to the war, the population of the region was in excess of 26,000, here we are 100 years on, and only slightly more than half, have returned to the area. Due to the excessive amount of lead based ammunition that was dumped on these fields, the land remains poisoned and the many farmers that fled during the war, had nothing to return to.
I’m sorry to leave Bruges, it’s truly a remarkable city and one that I look forward to returning to. Although excitement is in the air, I’ve decided to take the train through to Copenhagen – how you ask? Read on….
Copenhagen, Denmark
I had heard, prior to my journey, about the train that goes on a ferry boat from Germany across to Denmark. I couldn’t get my head around this and put it on my “To Do” list. At last I was heading off on this latest adventure. Boarding the train in Bruges with a 13-hour train ride ahead, I settled back to enjoy the scenery. The train loads onto the ferry like a motor vehicle, if you’re not looking for it, you may well miss it. Once aboard, you must disembark the train and head to the upper levels of the boat. With duty free shopping available, it’s quite easy to lose track of time and before long you find yourself, re-boarding the train. The whole experience being quite surreal.
View from the train
Train on a boat!
On the way to Copenhagen!
On my final change of train in Hamburg, I found myself in a closed cabin with a Danish family – Nicole, Claus and Nicholas. I was fortunate to spend approx. 5 hours with the most delightful young family who subsequently invited me to dinner. Nicholas was a young lad that was fascinated with my travels and I now have a greater understanding of both Dr. Who and Harry Potter! I was thrilled to accept their very kind dinner invitation and looked forward to seeing them again.
Upon arrival into Copenhagen, I first noticed that I had booked accommodation on the ‘wrong’ side of the railway line. Copenhagen is expensive, ranking the third most expensive city in Europe and didn’t I know it! Whilst the hotel was well located for visiting the city, the hookers and drug rehab place across the road was, at times, a little daunting! Saying that however, I never had any problems. I was merely two blocks from Tivoli Gardens and within walking distance to the many wonderful sights of the City.
Tivoli Gardens was an absolute highlight, a theme park dating back to 1843 which has retained its 19th century charm. I was somewhat hesitant at first, thinking it was merely a theme park. Tivoli Gardens is so much more than a theme park. I was captivated with a performance of a Cinderella Ballet Pantomime. I had never seen this type of performance before and it was incredible! I will actively seek to find more of these type of shows. It was this modern, rock, entertaining, theatrical performance that left the audience cheering and begging for more!
Another marching band
Tivoli Theatre
Cinderella
A snippet of Cinderella!
Copenhagen is also a city of architecture, being host to one of Europe’s most well respected architectural colleges, it’s easy to see why the structural artists flock here to study. Unfortunately, I did not happen across our Princess Mary although I fear she wasn’t hanging out in the same suburbs as I may have been! Very much a thriving city although I felt it was quite disjointed, there were certain pockets of beauty but overall failed to impress.
I was anxious to leave as I was heading for a catch up with friends, I had not seen for many years! Next, Ireland, Scotland and England – Lasting friendships!
I did however manage to find myself on a flight from Denmark to Belgium with five young men full of handsomeness, on their way to a music festival in Brussels. As I took my seat on the plane, I was placed in a row by myself, directly in front of these lads, with no other passengers in sight. They had been drinking, I had been drinking and as they say – the rest is history!
A Motley Crew
Umm….
Oh dear – my new FB friends!
Their mothers would be proud, they shared their drinks, laughs and even an invite to a Music Festival. “What bands are playing?” enquires the 52yo female. “Bands? No bands, just DJ’s.” replies the handsome young lads. Alas I’m knocked back into the generational gap!
As I head towards Berlin, I am filled with nervous anxiety – I’m heading to visit with friends that I have not seen for nearly 20 years. During our years living in Saudi Arabia, we had become extremely good friends with a Brit couple Al and Carole. Our communication since 1997 had solely been via Facebook, a like here, a comment there and now I had been so bold to ask them to stay.
When I arrived, they were waiting on the platform and it was like I had seen them yesterday. We immediately launched into sharing our histories for the past 20 years and for 5 days we caught up in each other’s lives and cemented our friendship for another 20 years!
It is true what is said about expatriates, friends become family and friendships last a lifetime! We shared several bottles of Al’s wine, lucky his monthly wine club order arrived during my stay!
As well as visiting the sights of Berlin, it was an absolute thrill to catch up with Al and Carole. Carole and I were able to spend a wonderful morning in the sun, in her spa catching up on days gone by.
20 years!
What’s not to enjoy – Sun and Spa!
Dinner with friends!
Dana (Daughter no. 2) arrived the second day and our sightseeing adventures commenced. We ventured into the city to visit the Brandenburg Gate, the Wall, Checkpoint Charlie and of course, the many WWII memorial sites throughout the city. Berlin is so much more than just what remains after WWII. It’s a fast paced modern city and you would be surprised at how many shoe shops I visited during just one day until we found the exact pair, Dana had been looking for! Thank you Berlin Mall!
The public rail system did present us with challenges however. You have Regional Trains (RER) and S-Bahns that all appear to run in and out of the same stations and lines. On the weekend, there was work to the lines so some trains didn’t go to where timetables said they would. Totally exhausted from a day’s sightseeing, we found ourselves late at night without a train to take us back to Blankenfelde where Al and Carole were waiting patiently to collect us from the Station! So after three days of extensive train travel through Berlin City, we were still none the wiser however could recognise a station before they announced it on the train! Beware for future visitors to this City – don’t leave catching your train until the last minute, get to where you’re going early and then relax and take coffee!
The Brandenburg Gate was difficult to experience, as there was a festival being held in the park that encompassed the gate (you will see from the photos). Checkpoint Charlie Museum is a definite must visit whilst in Berlin – I could have spent a week at the Museum and still not have read all the displays. At the actual checkpoint, there are two fellows dressed as soldiers and you can have your photo taken. Whilst I’ve come across many ‘tacky’ tourist photo opportunities in my travels, this one ground on my sense of respect. I couldn’t help but think of the individuals that had passed through this spot, the agonies, the challenges, the lives of the both the living and the dead and the hope of so many that wished to pass through had been reduced to this. As we meandered our way through the city, it was astounding to continually come across the path of the wall, marked out by a paved line. It’s incomprehensible to imagine this City literally cut in two. Even though the wall has now been down for some years, there remains a subtle contrast between East and West. The highlight of the sightseeing tours is of course, the artwork on the East Gallery – it’s moving, it’s thought provoking, it’s crude however all stands for someone’s representation of matters at hand at the time.
Dana in Berlin
Brandenburg Gate
Berlin Wall
Berlin Wall
I was incredulous at the difference between Sachenhausen Camp and what I had witnessed in Auschwitz-Birkenhau. The latter being an extermination camp with Sachenhausen being a working camp. Whilst there were still deaths and persecutions of the minority, it appeared to be mild, in comparison with the atrocities of Auschwitz-Brikenhau. As the guide took us through the camp and explained how the inmates were provided three meals per day albeit basic stews with little meat I couldn’t help but recall the Guide’s explanation of meals in Auschwitz being “they were fortunate to receive a watery soup, once per day – enough to keep them alive”. The sleeping quarters where three to a bed was deemed unbearable, in comparison at least eight or more were laid out on wooden slats, tightly bound for warmth and survival.
I suppose what I found to be the major difference was the size of the camps. As I’m sure all of you are aware Auschwitz-Birkenhau was an extermination camp of the worst kind – there were four massive gas chambers that each exterminated over 1000 people at a time.
By no means, would I ever presume those interned at Sachenhausen ‘got off easy’ however I don’t believe there should be a comparison to those interned at Auschwitz-Birkenhau.
Gates to Sachsenhausen
Within the walls (Sachsenhausen) Gravel marks where the shelters were
Prison uniform
Incinerator
Amsterdam
Working to Dana’s itinerary now, we depart Berlin and head for Amsterdam. Dana and I enjoyed our 6-hour train journey, gave us time to catch up, sleep and plan our Amsterdam trip. Banksy has an exhibition, so that’s definitely on the list. We plan to visit a windmill and cheese makers. As I’ve been to Amsterdam previously, I mentioned to Dana the Red Light District and the Coffee Houses. She’s not sure about either.
Our Airbnb apartment was literally a two-minute walk from the Station, navigating the narrow winding staircase was certainly challenging – thank you to our lovely host, Tyler who came to our rescue and we would rely on gravity to get back down!
Once settled, we meandered through the City and of course, more shopping was on the agenda. After Dana’s shopping itch had been scratched, we then took in some of the local sights. Dana was astounded at the availability of drugs and relevant paraphernalia. I thought I would be the ‘Oh so cool, Mother’ and suggested, as it was legal, she may like to try a cookie or two. She admonished me for suggesting such a thing and was not prepared to get ‘baked’ with her mother! Phew… escaped that easily enough.
Our first escapade was to visit the Banksy Exhibition and we were certainly not disappointed, the artwork is amazing although his messages far more relevant. I was pleasantly surprised to see many young people visiting the exhibition and healthy discussions taking place concerning his pieces. Whilst the placement of his artwork is, at times controversial, if it opens the discussion and brings awareness to many worthy plights, I can’t help but support the path he has chosen.
Wandering through the cobblestone streets and corners within the vibrant city, brings us upon many buildings from eras gone by. The uneven surface of the pathways leaves you in awe of the multitude of people that have walked through these streets for hundreds of years. I’m astounded at the development that has taken place in the 25 years since my last visit, modern, gigantic structures being placed among the tumbling down ruins of the past, although for some strange reason, it fits. The Dutch have been able to bring the old and new together to ensure the landscape of their city remains unique.
The following day we hopped aboard our tour bus to visit a Windmill, Dutch Museum, Cheese factory and a small Dutch village. Whilst the tour bus was not really our thing, we managed to have a fun filled day. Our first stop was to visit a working Windmill, of all the Windmills, in all the towns, the one we visit makes peanut oil! As daughter no. 2, is anaphylactic to nuts this was quite a challenge, as Linseed was on the menu that day, all was well. A few sneezes here and there and the visit was without incident. It was astounding to see the inner workings of a Windmill that was over 300 years old still plodding along day in and day out.
The cheese factory was located in the small village of Volendam, which lay along near the mouth of IJ Bay. Such a picturesque village although inundated with visitors trawling through their streets and back gardens. I suspect it’s a love/hate relationship with tourists. We were able to find a Goat’s cheese that Dana loved, so despite the crowds, the trip was definitely a bonus!
The following day we were hoping to visit Anne Frank’s House although the wait was about 4-hours in freezing windy weather! I’m led to believe you need to purchase your tickets weeks in advance or face the cold. We opted not to wait and took to the canals for a tour of the Amsterdam waterways. Seeing the city from the water, is quite different, travelling under narrow low bridges which have stood the test of time for centuries.
Amsterdam is a wonderful city, the locals, if you can find them, are extremely friendly and tolerant of the masses. One of our favourite moments, would have to be the breakfast at P&W (Pancakes and Waffles) – a small basic café run by young Egyptian/Lebanese fellow who just does crepes albeit the best crepes I’ve ever eaten!
Pancakes & Waffles
Banana, Strawberry and Maple Syrup
Mushroom, Cheese and Bacon
Paris
When Dana made the decision to visit and then we planned our visit to Paris, we had no idea that our timing coincided with the UEFA 2016 Euro Final – possibly the busiest weekend in Paris’ annual calendar. Accommodation was at a premium, we ended up in a small Airbnb in the heart of the city although at $200 per night, my most expensive accommodation for the duration of the trip!
Paris is as wonderful as ever, we spent a day in the Louvre and could have stayed longer – the most amazing place! Although the whole Mona Lisa gig is overrated and they seriously need to look at crowd control. If you happen to visit, don’t get carried away with Mona Lisa turn around and you will be enthralled at the painting directly behind you which is the Wedding Feast portraying Christ turning water into wine.
There were so many highlights within the Louvre although for me the Coronation of Napoleon I was a standout. When you hear that Napoleon’s mother was never actually in attendance although Napoleon instructed artist, Jacques Louis David, to include his mother in the recording of history. It reminds me to question and not believe everything you see or hear, to accept that certain historic events can be retold according to the privileged and how they wanted the story portrayed. Would the painting have become the sensation it is today had he not had events altered?
Coronation of Napoleon I
Mona Lisa
Venus de Milo
Centaur teased by Eros
Louvre Museum
Baroque model of boat
Statue in open Courtyard
King Louis XIV Crib
Loved this with the children climbing the rope!
Our trip to the Eiffel tower was chaotic due to crowds preparing for the football final, as the fan zone was located in the park near the base of the tower. You may recall the ugly scenes where police used tear gas and water cannons to break up the crowd. Thankfully, our visit was much earlier in the day and was not marred by this nonsense. We were able to fully enjoy our time at the top of the Eiffel Tower in spite of me splurging for a €15 glass of Moet and Chandon to have it spilt down the front of me by an over excited fellow tourist!
Mother and Daughter at the top!
View from the top
View from the bottom
A must do, on Dana’s Europe trip list, was to visit Euro Disney – whilst she’s been to Disneyland, Stateside, she was so young and really did not remember her visit. So off to Euro Disney we go! Dana managed to get her Mickey ears and shots in front of the Princess Palace. I think her featured moment was to beat me on the Buzz Lightyear ride. When my girls were small I never allowed them to play with or have any type of toy that depicted a gun. When visiting Disneyland, I blitzed everyone shooting the laser on the Buzz Lightyear ride, it became a legendary story Manon likes to recall! Dana took great pleasure in annihilating me on this ride.
I loved this day with Dana, she will probably sigh at me, but it reminded me that she’s still my baby and I cherished this day to be able to relive a little bit of the little girl still inside!
Princess in front of her castle
The Queen appears
Love, love, love this – riding electric cars
Just off the Indiana Jones’ Rollercoaster!
A few years ago, I was able to travel to Italy with Manon and I’ve now had the opportunity to travel with Dana – despite all my travels these are my favourite travel memories – it’s the stories I’ll retell to my grand-babies when I get them. I would actively encourage mothers out there to take time, to spend with your children – individually, it may not be an overseas holiday but just one on one time. We tend to do this when they’re small but to spend time with them when they’re young adults is another stepping stone!
After 10 days, it was time for Dana to head home and for me to carry on with my travels, I reluctantly left Dana at the Charles de Gaulle and headed towards Bruges, Belgium.
I was in two minds as to whether to detour and take in the sights of Budapest. It was a city I had heard was fabulous and intriguing although was never sure it would be a place I would enjoy. How wrong I was – I have been extremely fortunate to have travelled substantially in my life and after now visiting Budapest – I can’t wait to return. It may actually be my favourite city in the world! It’s alive with culture and the Hungarian people are welcoming, friendly and after securing their win in the Group for the UEFA 2016 Euro, quite possibly the happiest!
My first encounter with the wonderful locals, was upon arrival at my Airbnb, my host, Joseph was waiting for me and is an international tourism guru. He had a welcome pack sorted which included discount cards to local restaurants, city maps, guidebooks and so much more. If you’re planning your next visit to this amazing city, I would strongly recommend Joseph’s place. It’s well located for sightseeing and only a few metres to a street known for its gastronomic delights!
Cafes
New York Cafe
Liberty/Freedom Bridge
Afternoon tea in NY Cafe
I boarded my Hop On Hop Off tour bus the first morning to get my bearings and each sight appeared more impressive than the last. From Heroes square to the Széchenyi Baths to Palaces and Parliamentary buildings, each sight held you in awe with both beauty and history.
Highlights of Budapest would have to be the night cruise, seeing the City from the water is truly gorgeous, the House of Parliament is quite possibly the most beautiful building I’ve encountered on my journey thus far. It is quite simply magnificent! The streets are lined with lush green trees, each restaurant has planter pots with greenery and flowers. The cobblestoned walkways are filled with garden areas.
For those that don’t follow the European football league, the UEFA Euro 2016 has been on whilst I’ve been in Europe. Each time there is a game, the cities come alive, games are being telecast in every restaurant, bar and public area. Of course, the atmosphere is vibrant and, should the favoured team win, the city’s festivities begin. I have been somewhat of a lucky charm it seems – I was in Budapest when Hungary won their group, I happen to be in Kraków, when Poland went through to the next round and Berlin, when Germany secured their place in the semi-final against France. For those who like a little wager, I’ll be in Paris for both the semi-final and final – I may just have a dabble on France!
Hungary Celebrates!
I had saved my final day in Budapest for the Széchenyi Baths. I was somewhat hesitant, coming from Australia’s Gold Coast where public ‘baths’ or pools are really not to everyone’s liking as we’re so near to the best beaches in the world, I anxiously paid about AUD25 to enter this public bathing area and shuddered at the crowds. Not to be deterred from experiencing this one in a life time adventure, I took my place amongst the crowds albeit on the most deserted spot I could find and settled in.
It was merely minutes until I was joined in my secluded spot by a group of British fellows celebrating a ‘Buck’s Party’ in Budapest for the weekend. Try as I might, I ignored them and continued to read my kindle – however it was not long when I found myself in conversation with the groom to be, as he relayed to me how in love he was and couldn’t wait to marry the girl of his dreams! For a group of lads on a Buck’s Party weekend, they were remarkably well behaved and appeared more interested in this “old enough to be my mum” woman who had decided to travel Europe solo! They were not the only group at the Baths that day celebrating a Buck’s Party, another group of intrepid young Brits were also on the trip of discovery before heading into wedded bliss although the fate of young Tom was more left to the Gods! His ‘punishment’ was for him to dress in traditional Polish female attire for the duration of the weekend, as he plans to wed in Poland at the end of the month! I have lost count of how many stag parties I’ve come across although ladies, I can assure, with both of the groups that I had the pleasure to talk with, all conversations led back to their girls back home – it makes me wonder, if peer group pressure and the necessity of a ‘stag do’ is really all it’s cracked up to be!
I’d like to give a shout out to #TomGoesWild and wish him all the best for his marriage in Poland – hoping of course, he’s more suitably dressed than when I last saw him!
Selfie at the Baths
Oh Dear, Poor Tom!
Budapest is definitely the jewel of Europe and without a doubt, must be on everyone’s bucket list!
Kraków, Poland
My reason for travelling to Kraków was to experience the Auschwitz and Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camps. Along with the rest of the population we hear and learn of the atrocities that were committed, at not only these camps but many others, I wanted to pay my respects to those who lost their lives but also to the survivors and families who have been, and continue to be, affected by actions that took place.
I did not take a plenitude of photos, I’m more than happy to answer any questions anyone may have regarding my visit. I can tell you that I was moved to tears on several occasions throughout the day. I now have a greater respect for survivors and those whose lives have been impacted. I also believe that I now have a greater understanding of what it means to be a minority as not only were Jews persecuted but gypsies, homosexuals, disabled, anyone that did not agree with the views of those that believed they are more superior. The stories of survival are astounding and whilst we must continue to learn of the atrocities to ensure that history cannot repeat itself and I believe that education is the key although as I sit here and write this I can’t help but think of the genocide that is currently happening in various countries within the African continent along with other eastern countries. Have we learnt from these past brutalities?
Collapsed Extermination Chamber – Bombed by German forces trying to destroy evidence
Border fences
Ghetto Memorial
As to Kraków , it contains some of the oldest history in Europe and is a city sure to charm any visitor. I believe Kraków is somewhat tarnished by its involvement in WWII and continues to strive to leave the past behind although relying on the past to get them to the future. I was surprised to see Jewish Synagogues and graveyards within the boundaries of Jewish quarters from eras gone by. Again it’s a city that comes alive in the main square of an evening with street performers, horse and carriage rides and a multitude of restaurants and cafés.
Prague, Czech Republic
Prague has always been on my ‘To Do’ list, I’ve heard it’s a city that offers amazing nightlife and plenty of sights to see. My memories of Prague will always be the meat that was on offer, there were market stall holders that offer plates of fresh pork, that’s it – a plate of pork cut from the spit along with a ½ litre of beer! I also noticed more homeless and beggars on the streets of Prague and whilst sitting in a café next to a couple of gentleman, they were offered lap dances, whilst they waited for their evening meal! It’s the first time, I’ve not felt safe walking the streets at night, I was sure to be back at my apartment before dark (which of course, is about 10.30pm), the red and white suits of men vying for customers to their private men only clubs, was unnerving.
It was also a city where I came across blatant racism towards a Jewish couple It was a menial matter of tickets for a boat cruise, I’m not sure who was at fault although once the Czech’s started complaining in front of a boatload of tourists about the “Jews” and “those people”, I couldn’t help myself. I stepped in to ease the situation and of course, they had respect for such a bold white woman travelling alone who would speak up for ‘those people’. I would not normally hesitate to step in to any situation, however, considering I had just been to a place where Jews were persecuted in their thousands, I certainly was never going to sit back and watch someone attack them, when I could do something about it.
I can tick the box to say I’ve been to Prague and I try and gauge whether I would recommend a place and would like my girls to visit – Prague is a place I wouldn’t want my girls to visit! I fear Manon may have already been!
Next stop – Berlin, Amsterdam and Paris – all with daughter no. 2!
Before I leave this beautiful area, I wanted to spend a couple of days in Tuscany, my friend and travel agent extraordinaire, Debbie, has guided me to Villa Sant Andrea – it’s a beautiful villa whose cellar dates back to 11th century. What more could I ask for. It’s a couple of hours drive away. After battling through a horrendous rain and hail, I find myself at Villa Sant Andrea in a small village of Fabbrica, an amazing villa which sits on the peak of the hill surveying 600 hectares of prime Tuscan vineyards. It is quite simply breathtakingly beautiful.
I arrive late afternoon, so have a late lunch early dinner at La Scuderia in a neighbouring village – Badia a Passignano. This restaurant would have the largest selection of wines that I have ever seen in one place. I especially like the 2l bottles that they offer! It takes having a bottle of wine to whole other level.
L’Scuderia
Gotta love a 2lt bottle of wine
Small menu = food, large menu = wine!
Badia a Passignano
The following morning, I toured the wine cellar, albeit giant large wine barrels like those in Australia although finding them sitting in a medieval cellar adds a new dimension. Following the tour, I spent a few hours by the Villa pool, taking in some sunshine and surrounding myself in these remarkable hills. The plan was to join my fellow wine tasters for dinner, in the local gourmet restaurant for the area. Unfortunately, by 3.30pm I was bed-bound with a gastro bug that very quickly ended my Tuscan adventure. I was uncertain as to whether I would make it back to Levanto the next day although after an unsettled night, I was on the road to recovery the next morning, I needed to get the car hire back and get sorted for my onwards journey.
Entry to medieval cellar
Perfect temperature
Dinner with newfound friends
One of the things I love about travelling is the many people you meet. During my travels, I’ve enjoyed boat trips with four young American lads who have just finished College, taking time out before they start their working career, a family from Australia taking a dream holiday with their mother who is in the first stages of Alzheimer’s, a wine tasting tour with two couples from Austria. As I’m standing on the corner of Casella attempting to get phone coverage, a couple from Belgium stop to ask directions, they were merely 100m from their destination.
As I wandered down the hill for my aperitifs that afternoon, I happened across the Belgium couple getting out of their vehicle. We stopped and chatted, about accommodation, they enquired about sites to see and restaurants to eat at. As I’m now ‘in the know’ I was more than happy to share my knowledge of the area before I continued on my way. Almost at the bottom of the hill, the Belgium couple offer me a ride into the village. I gratefully accept – I never miss an opportunity to chat with people and learn more about their travels and where they come from. I now have a place to stay and tour guides in Antwerp!
On my last night, I wanted to return to a couple of my favourite haunts, the local bar and L’Articiocca restaurant where I did my cooking classes. Upon arriving at the bar, Ermanno and Clara (L’Articiocca) were already at the bar with other friends, this was their one night off. They were joining other friends and asked me along for dinner, which was being cooked ) by one girl’s mother. Never one to miss an opportunity, I tagged along. Diggio (Belgium) works in Cinque Terre teaching Standup Paddle surfing, Kiara (strong Italian woman), Emmanuel (strong silent Italian man), Michael and Elle (British couple) and Suzie (Michael’s mother) who owns a property here and has been holidaying in Levanto since she was a child. Each with their own story of how they came to Levanto and never left – It was truly a wonderful evening with great food and company.
I embark on the early morning train headed for Verona – my next adventures await. With only one night in Verona, of course the highlights will be visiting the Montague and Capulet families! I decide to see this City aboard the eyes of a Hop On Hop Off due to limited time. Arriving into Verona on the 1.00pm train, dropping my case at my Airbnb, I started touring about 2.00pm. I was enthralled with this city, it is by far the most picturesque of the all the Italian cities I’ve visited. Like the others, it has a cultural history dating back millenniums. From Castelvecchio who has held kings, Armies and religious orders through to fortified walls and medieval gates still being a part of everyday life. As I walked from the centre at midnight, which was still full of life, I realise Verona is a city worthy of more than a day’s visit.
Porta Bonsari
Castelvecchio
I Portoni della Bra
Montague and Capulet Family Dramas
It would be remiss of me, not to give you my thoughts on Romeo and Juliet, possibly the most well-known love story of all time. I eagerly awaited the opportunity to Hop Off to visit Juliet’s courtyard and balcony and, as many before have done, place my hand on her breast for future luck. I was expecting a throng of people and I wasn’t disappointed. I stood opposite the entry arch, biding my time to enter into what I believed was a sacred romantic corner of the world. What I was confronted with, was a tunnel of love worthy of the crudest graffiti award including overflowing garbage cans, as I emerge into the courtyard and balcony area, I have a sudden stay, thinking the crudity is contained to the tunnel, I pause to take stock of my surroundings but alas, the romantic lovers of days gone by have continued to place their markings on the surrounding walls.
On closer inspection, I note there is also a complete colourful sector dedicated to chewed gum. Is it that they chew the same piece and join their spit on the wall for others to clean at some point? For those that know me, this was my undoing, I am almost phobic to chewing gum (to rid the universe of this disgusting saliva ridden, germ infested product would bring me eternal happiness) and to see this place defiled in this way immediately halted me in my tracks – there was no longer an image of a young couple in love and their desperate romantic battle against family sagas, or a peaceful place to pause and reflect on life’s loves. It took a herculean effort to get my feet moving and force my way back through the vulgar tunnel and to the wonders of an ancient city. As I broke free of the crowds, I noticed my earlier position was outside Shakespeare’s, on closer inspection this was a tacky souvenir shop and any association with Shakespeare would have the wordsmith turning in his grave.
I did not place my hand upon Juliet’s breast, I did not pay to stand upon her balcony – my future luck and love will be safe in my hands – my clean, sterile, empty of spittle, hands!
The tunnel of love in all its glory!
Juliet’s balcony – Shakespeare’s Tryst? I think not.
Look closely at the wall behind
If he buys you something from here – you’re in trouble!
I did manage to come across the Les secrétaires de Juliette which for me, was more interesting. I met with a group of five young ladies who had all volunteered for weeks on end and had come from as far afield as Portgual, Spain, Italy and America. Their task to sit for hours answering a string of love letters written by either hopeless romantics or Hollywood driven maniacs. They were all no older than about 25 and not one was married, so it would be interesting to see who responds to those seeking advice for the over 50s. Maybe I’ll apply although I believe my somewhat sarcastic approach would be met with distain and I could set the world afire with many strong independent women! The responsibility too great!
Train Verona to Salzburg
As I sit on the train, having not long departed Verona for Salzburg, I’m devastated to be leaving Italy, I’m sure a piece of me will always remain in Italy! We are no more than 40 minutes outside of Verona and the train is travelling through a sea of vineyards surrounded by cliffs and mountains, I’m struck by the severity of the cliffs and the mountains of the Dolomites. As we slide through the mountainous landscape and edge our way towards the Austrian border, the more remote the villages, the loss of vineyards and the theatrics of castles on the hills commence.
I’m chatting with my cabin mate, Miss Viktoria, a young woman from Munich who is returning to her home country for a short stay but who has fallen in love with Bologna and a Bolognese man and left her German roots behind. She’s my travel guide on my journey, explaining the mountains, the language and the history of the border towns of Italy and Austria. I was unaware that certain parts of Italy were Austrian and after the second world war the borders were altered. She tells me how her flatmates from this area, will tell you that whilst they are officially in Italy, their hearts remain in Austria – the language spoken in the area is German, the houses representative of German rather than Italian!
Our journey is interrupted by the boarding of a company of Austrian police, refugees have been located and will be forcibly removed. There is a family of five which includes a baby brought into this world in very recent times along with two older brothers, whose eyes are unable to hide the fear they now must face – the parents are young, they’re downcast, they purchased tickets for the train although don’t have the papers to support their journey. There are also three young lads, they look like no more than 14 or 15, travelling on their own. Standing amidst the burley Austrian police, the whites of their eyes glowing in fear, my heart goes out to these people, their plight for a better life has come to an abrupt end. The silence of fellow passengers on the train, alone in their thoughts, makes for a sombre journey. Whilst the whole scenario was quite orderly and without fuss, to actually witness the loss of hope and the realisation that the young couple’s future plans for their children has be terminated, I found confronting and distressing and I will never forget the young boy’s pleading look and the absolute terror, of his unknown future.
Salzburg, Austria
After my train experience, my first night in Salzburg was somewhat subdued, I found my accommodation and visited a nearby restaurant where I enjoyed a bottle of wine and took stock of earlier events and how one’s destiny can be altered at any given point in time.
In complete contrast to my previous day and renewed with energy after conversations with my girls, I was to spend the day visiting a Salt Mine and my long awaited Sound of Music Tour! When Debbie had suggested the Salt Mine, I was somewhat sceptical that I would enjoy this, being underground in caves brought back memories of the Beaconsfield mine disaster. Somewhat anxious, I entered the caves and was astounded at the structures and details. The drill a hole in the ground, several hundred metres below, send crews of men down and then fill part of the hole with water – a totally chilling thought although it works. The set-up of the tour was excellent; I was astounded to sail across an underground lake with a light show. Unfortunately, you are unable to take photos whilst underground, the best I’ve got to show you, is a photo of a postcard and of course, the happy snap taken by the tour that cost me 5 euros!
Sound of Music Tour
Ok, now the whole reason I came to Salzburg – to sing on the hilltops! I boarded my tour bus with nervous energy, hoping my karaoke vocals will withstand the pressure of Maria’s high notes. I find myself seated with a group of young Texas Tech Performing Arts Group who are currently studying in the Czech Republic and who have just performed at the Fringe Festival – Drama majors – seriously? I couldn’t be in better company for the most dramatic tour of my journey! Our guide Albrecht (complete with lederhosen), is possibly in his late 50’s and living the dream – being able to sing and perform Sound of Music every day (in fact, he does two tours a day) and get paid for it – I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone who enjoys his job more than this fellow! We instantly knew, there was fun to be had.
As we meandered through the streets of Salzburg, we were provided with Albrecht’s own personal satirical view of the city. There are too many sites from the movie to mention in this mere blog. The front of this house, the back of that, this row of trees, that driveway – at each stop you recall the scene from the movie and see yourself stepping through the looking glass and taking your place as Gretel or Leisel or Maria, all the while learning additional snippets of information from our illustrious guide. It was time to leave the city behind and head into the mountains – I was not the only one on that tour, whose heart was aflutter with the anticipation of running through those hills. We were heading to Mondsee, which possesses the church that Maria and the Captain were married in. It’s an hour’s drive through the mountains, what else to do but sing! For a split second, my vocal chords froze, I was struck with fear as my seat companion tells me that she sings a capella in her local church! I let her know that I’m a karaoke queen and profusely apologise in advance – I’m not being put off by someone who can actually hold a tune!
Upon arrival into Mondsee, we encounter a Marching Band Competition, in excess of 20 groups, all dressed in traditional Austrian Tracht (attire) and filling the cobblestoned ways with music. The pathways were lined with dirndls and lederhosens, we were instantly immersed in Austrian culture and the whole village was alive with festivities. After partaking in famous apple strudel we returned to the city to take in the beautiful ‘Do Re Mi’ gardens of Mirabell Palace. Remembering I’m with a group of performing arts students, we had to re-enact the famous hopping step scene, so we took over the steps and thrilled a touristic audience with scenes from their favourite movie!
To watch the following videos, click on the links below each photo!
With our Sound of Music tour now over, Albrecht has given us his last point of interest, directions to the local beer hall. With music and hilarity all around us, we head off for the beer hall – you never know, hopefully there may be an Oompah band! After realising there is one type of beer and the smallest, a ½ litre mug – it was time to indulge in beer drinking! To my fellow extended Von Trapp family singers – Katie, Abby, Lauren, Hannah and Zach – my Sound of Music tour was made all the more enjoyable with you as my backing group! If some day you venture Downunder, I’ll be sure to show you just how a singing tour is done Australian style with my backyard Karaoke!
The following day, I visited the Christmas Museum, the Hohensalzburg Fortress, a river cruise and Hellbrunn Palace (17th century Renaissance Palace) which boasts amazing water features still powered as they were 300 years ago!
After being in Levanto for nearly three weeks, I decided it’s time to venture further afield, to do this I went off to hire a car. Unfortunately, the day in question was the Italian Republic Day and therefore a public holiday. No problem, I was however able to get myself a scooter!
I’ve scooted around Krabi (Thailand) on a scooter, I was full of confidence, how hard could it be? The first point of difference is that they drive on the left, oh and there’s a lot more vehicles in La Spezia than in Krabi – like highways and traffic lights and dual lanes and …
It took me an hour to get out of La Spezia for two reasons, I hadn’t mastered turning corners – I seem to only be able to turn right and I couldn’t hear my GPS on my phone in my pocket to in fact find my way out of the City. I eventually found myself in a car park, practiced a few corners here and there and got my earplug under the helmet – I was ready to embark, it was now or never!
Before I could turn on to the back roads to make my way back to the Cinque Terre, I had to get on to a highway for about 5km. I hadn’t thought about the bloody tunnels – how overwhelming when you find yourself on a scooter, in a tunnel with cars whizzing past you because you’re not going fast enough! Tunnels are dark and of course I’ve worn my sunglasses to complete the “I’m so cool riding a scooter” look that I struggled into the darkness hoping that there is in fact a light at the end of this tunnel! By the end of the 36km journey – well my journey was more like a 64km journey due to all the right hand turns – I was no longer daunted by the upcoming tunnels, which range from 50m to over 2500m it’s quite amazing to weave your way through a mountain after mountain.
As I meandered along those country back roads in the Italian Riviera I was struck by the beauty of this amazing country – lush green hills, fast flowing creeks, it reminded me of New Zealand although as you turn the next bend, you happen upon a medieval village or a church that appears more archaic that the previous. There is a constant display of ruins in fields and by the side of the road, some being consumed by nature others looking like they’ve recently been felled.
There is an abundance of space within those mountains, although village life is contained within a few blocks. They tend to live on top of each other – these quaint small villages made up of what appears to be colourful lego built homes, each sharing a neighbouring wall. I’m not sure of the Italian history, although it appears that each village would have been a family’s property, as each member of the family expanded, they added another living area. The saying, “it takes a village”, I see clearly what is meant in these hills. I could see the Steer, Lewis, O’Leary, Hutchison families living in our own village although I fear instead of a church, it would have been a Taverna!
My ride!
Oh so bloody cool!
An amazing view back to Levanto
Again Levanto from the mountain
Look closely, there is in fact a house!
Ruins still part of everyday life
Deserted by the side of the railway line
Lucca
I now had my power wheels and my first venture, led me to Lucca, the first of my Tuscan towns. Lucca’s old town is surrounded by extremely well preserved Renaissance walls from 16th/17th century. To be honest, I wasn’t keen on Lucca, yes it’s old and they have many churches, as do other cities – nothing stood out for me here. I found the most interesting sites in Lucca were the assortment of doors on the various buildings. Every window was barred, is this an indication of a high crime rate within the region (it would be the first I’ve encountered) or was the placed so steeped in history that the locals were still living in fear of the savages from days gone by.
The highlight of my day in Lucca, was the Café where I paused for afternoon tea, there was an array of amazing bite sized pastries just waiting to poach away my WW points for the day!
Another Levanto Production
During my first week in Levanto I happened across a small theatre production in the Piazza Cavour (the town square) whereby scenes from Macbeth, Romeo & Juliet and Hamlet were being performed by the local thespians. I was again enthralled this week to come across a production of Grease being performed by the local children’s dance school. As possibly the only native speaking English person present and knowing all the words, actions and dances, I could in fact have played the lead, if only given the opportunity!
Whilst both productions had charm and were in deed entertaining, I couldn’t help but be aware of the opportunities provided to those of us who live in cities and are afforded the masterminds of great teachers, exceptional facilities and an abundance of individual talents. These performances were somewhat crude, although I’m no theatre critic and I don’t believe there will be any Tony’s awarded, however the audience was full of praise and the Piazza was alive with accomplishment and gratitude for entertainment on a spring evening, in a picturesque village, on the Ligurian coast!
Each evening ended with the calls of ‘Bravo, Bravo’ from the captivated crowds. It should be noted that the dance school was completely female characters, is it that the Italian boys cannot dance or are they simply too mucho for such frivolity!
Macbeth
Tell me more, tell me more …
Angelo’s Boat Tours
Whilst enjoying my daily aperitifs and watching the boats frolic through the deep blue-green waters, I longed for such a day. My sleuth enquiries led me to Angelo’s Boat Tours, a local who had captured himself a San Franciscan gal and together they had developed a boat tour that involved, food, wine, swimming and a guide to Cinque Terre cliffs from the water.
My companions for the day are a young couple from Chicago, sisters from Australia travelling with elderly parents and a group of four young American lads taking leave after graduation and before embarking on their careers. Said lads arrived with an additional four bottles of Prosecco to share with their fellow sailors. I instantly knew there was a day to be had!
We motored along, hugging the cliff face as Alessandro (local guide from Levanto) told us of the history of the villages and the subsequent decline of traditional trades due to the almighty tourist dollar. Alessandro explained in years gone by, the cliffs had been crumbling and with the planting of the vineyards and crops, it has assisted in holding the earth and rock together sustaining the cliffs for future, however as more and more farmers leave their fields to open yet another Italian restaurant, the cliffs are now returning to their crumbling state. The local community are now struggling to maintain the devastation, in particular the walkways, which is a major drawcard for the villages. It seems to be a vicious cycle and without some input from UNESCO, the Cinque Terre will no longer be a major drawcard for hiking tourists and that almighty dollar that they fight for, will be no more.
Upon arriving into Vernazza, we pause to take lunch, seated amongst the throng of fellow tourists we are treated to a feast which is made famous by the Italians. With seafood aplenty along with pasta and yet I dare to say, more wine. We gorged until we could eat no more! We returned to the boat ready for siestas on the deck. It was not long and the anchor was released to allow our senses to be awoken in the clear cool deep sea waters!
With our bodies alive and refreshed, we headed for Monterroso Al Mare somewhat more subdued than at the point of departure. It was a day filled with laughter and chatter and at times, disclosure of personal stories to strangers from afar. Another day that will undoubtedly be a highlight of this intrepid journey.
My week rounds off with a shopping trip to the fashion outlet stores in Brugnato, located approximately 10km inland from Levanto. I parked on the outskirts of Brugnato and wandered through the medieval laneways of the village. In doing this I came upon a photographic display of a Festival that was held in the village earlier in the year. Unfortunately I don’t know more than that but as you will see from the photos, it appears the laneways are decorated with designs and tributes which are quite obviously Christian based, it may be a celebration of the patron saint of that region. Once I exited the village I walked through the suburban streets making my way towards the shopping outlet stores. After being surrounded by homes from throughout the centuries, I was astounded to see newer quite significantly larger homes and with an abundance of living space and garden areas. I’m pleased to see this other side of life, it’s where if I lived in this area, I’m sure I would be.
The outlet shopping mall turned out to be quite tame when compared to Harbour Town on Australia’s Gold Coast. All the shoppers could have met in the central piazza and shared a pizza, there were so few of us! I’m also not sure that the Italians have mastered the ‘outlet’ shopping experience – prices were exorbitant!
Deserted outlet shopping mall
Brugnato Cathedral
Medieval walkways
Gives you an idea of what they’re doing
One of the finished products
Shows it’s obviously a procession of sorts
Next, my adventures in Tuscany, leaving Levanto and my visit with the Montague and Capulet families!
The time is definitely flying by too fast – I can’t believe already another week has gone by. What have I been doing this week? Sitting in cafes, enjoying a coffee or a carafe of wine – lots of nothing I think but here’s a few highlights.
Reading, reading and reading!
As most you know, books, reading, literature is my passion. I never have enough time to read, it’s my mission on this holiday to read as many books as I can – I’m currently reading Book #14! I think I might start a separate tab for books and write a summary for them. Keep a look out for this addition to the Blog. I’ll just need to get Manon to show me how to do this!
I actually brought with me three actual books, I started one the other day although I’ve had to abandon it as the print is too small – it seems I need to locate a magnifying glass to read those. Not a bloody word from any of you!
Not just a Cooking Class…
On many of my holidays, I’ve undertaken cooking classes, I always think I should come away with a little bit more knowledge of the food of not only that Country but the local area I’ve decided to stay in.
I found via TripAdvisor a restaurant called L’Articiocca that hold cooking classes in the Ligurian (the region) cuisine. I emailed and had a reply back within a couple of hours. There is a minimum of two people, I explained I was on my own and he mentioned that the next day there is a class that I could join. Voila! I was off to my cooking class the next day.
So the plan was to make a three course meal, which consisted of pasta (croxetti, tortelloni and fettuccine), sauces for all three pastas as well as making traditional pesto and ricotta cheese (yes, cheese from scratch) with a lemon curd sauce for dessert. I was somewhat doubtful of my skills in the kitchen and my cooking companions were a young couple from Canada with their 2-year-old Nash and 6-month old Fox. Hey if the 2-year-old can cook pasta, I can!
Our chef extraordinaire – Ermanno was accompanied by the lovely Miss Clara – we started with making up the pastry for the two different types of pasta – one that is deep fried (yes not good for those of us counting points) and the other, being typical pastas. Ermanno is quick to let us know where the best place (locally) to grow Basil, this is what sets the Liguria pesto apart from everyone else. I always thought pesto has cashews – something we never eat at home due to Dana’s allergies – however “real” pesto is made with pine nuts! Who knew? I need to dig out my mortar and pestle and stop using it as a door stop – there’s pesto to be made.
Action shot!
Ground Basil
Pesto!
Let the gluten reconnect!
Deep Fried Pasta??
Making Croxetti
We spent three wonderful hours filling our senses with a variety of aromas, feeling the dough to see how it rebounds under our touch and of course, how it looks. The visual is almost as important as the taste! I just needed to get to the tasting part. At one point there was a lull in our class whilst we waited for the gluten in the pasta dough to do its thing! Something had separated and we were waiting for it to combine again – maybe – I kind of lost this bit. I was too busy watching Clara bring together, what is without a doubt, the best Aperol Spritzer I’ve had (and I’ve had few)!
We then proceeded to make fresh ricotta cheese – yes I’m now a Casaro – Fromager – Cheesemaker! It was so easy and so much better than any I’ve tasted before. Is it because I’ve made it with my own hands or because it is so fresh – do we lose all the flavour one it’s packaged and processed and sent to market? Another on my ‘To Do’ list or ‘To Do’ again…
Once the pasta was made, we then turned our culinary skills to the sauces – so simple, took literally minutes to prepare – what do we always seem to make things so complicated. I can’t wait to prepare my feast for my family, although they may all need to make their own pasta otherwise it will take me forever! Liguria is renowned for its lemons, they reap a quarter of cup of juice from just one lemon!
Clara with Aperol Spritz
Tomato, olive and white wine sauce
Adding the vino!
Finally, our meals are prepared, accompanied by an aromatic local Vermentino (of course, the hint of citrus stands out), we take our places to enjoy the fruits of our labour. There is nothing more fulfilling then sitting down enjoying great food, great wine with amazing individuals!
The memory of this Ligurian cooking class will remain with me for years to come!
Tortelloni
Ready to serve
The Feast awaits
Leaning Tower of Pisa
I ventured for a day out in Pisa, of course to visit the Tower. As I headed off on my walking endeavour after arriving at the Pisa Centrale Stazione, I found so much more than just a Leaning Tower. My travels through the City led me to happen across an art show displaying works of Ugo Nespolo – whilst I’m no art critic, I’m not sure what I was more impressed with the venue for the showing – Chiesa Di Santa Maria Della Spina, erected in the mid 1200s and boasts architecture from the Italian Gothic style or in fact the artwork itself.
The next intriguing structure is the fortified wall that encompasses the City holding it within in falling down clutches. This wall dates back to circa 1165. I continually come across these structures and find it unfathomable that they’ve withstood the test of time as well as they have. They are formidable!
From any point in the City, you just need to follow the crowd to make your way to Pisa’s foremost attractions – The Leaning Tower of Pisa, Piazza dei Miracoli (formally known as Piazza del Duomo) and the Pisa Baptistry. First thoughts upon seeing this Tower is of course, how on earth is it standing – why doesn’t it fall? How has it not already fallen? It’s quite a lean – if I remember correctly it’s something like a 5m difference? Is that right? Not sure what the degree of lean would be. Let me assure you after climbing over 250 odd steps to the top, you can certainly feel the lean, it’s quite off putting, I needed to hang on to the sides as I made my way up and down, it’s quite daunting and then when you get to the top, the sensation that you’re falling is quite real. I was not on my own, holding on, as we tentatively made our way around the circumference of the turret.
The other buildings are extraordinaire in their own way – the Baptistry would certainly give Saint Peter’s Basilica a run for its money – John the Baptist, of course, has equal relevance in the Christian history books and as such, the Baptistry is impressive and steeped in history.
La Spezia with David Bowie
I had decided that at some point during my month in Levanto that I would hire a car to see further afield. To do this I must venture into La Spezia, I spent four hours wondering through this Italian city which, to be honest, is quite unremarkable. As a gateway to the Cinque Terre it’s almost a forgotten city, there is a large harbour where cruise ships dock, a relatively large train station and all of the major hire car company are located within La Spezia. Whilst the hubs are a hype of activity of tourists coming and going to get to the Cinque Terre, it doesn’t appear that their tourist dollar makes it into the local shops or restaurants. Of course, there is a spin off although it’s a mere pittance when compared to the amount that is spewed into the 5 small villages that rest on the sides of hills. When the cruise ships dock and at the peak of the season, there can be up to 20,000 visitors per day to this region. I’m extremely pleased I’ve come off-peak!
I failed in my attempt to secure a hire car on this particular day, it was the Italian Republic Day and as such a public holiday. I decided to enjoy a relaxing lunch and make my return, however I happened upon Fondazione Carispezia which currently houses a display of the photographic work of Masayoshi Sukita – you may not know his name (I didn’t) although I recognised his photos of the legend David Bowie. I couldn’t believe in this small side street, in this forgotten Italian City, I was fortunate enough to come across such a viewing with gratuitous entry. If they were not original prints, they were of course, limited additions. As a long standing fan of Bowie, who was extremely saddened by his recent death, I was ecstatic to be able to see this show. I know this will remain a highlight of my journey.
And last but not least
I appear to have a couple of new friends in Casella – I don’t believe I need to say more – a photo is worth a thousand words! Don’t expect to see either of them in future posts.
A Stepping Stone 