1 day until we come home, 1 year, 1 month and 12 days since selling up. David Jones recording.
We had a fun-packed final night in Sydney. I don't know whether they were pleased that we were leaving or sad to see us go, but they had lit up the whole city in a spectacular laser light display for our final night in Australia. But, actually it wasn't us at all: Sydney was celebrating its annual Vivid winter illuminations festival.
After a fab night running around Circular Quay looking at all the lights we woke up early for our flight to Singapore on a double-decker bus. Sorry, Paul just corrected me, that's an A380 superjumbo for all you geeks out there. And we had seats on the top deck fulfilling one of Paul's dreams. My first impressions of the plane were, in the words of Lily, "Big Door, Heavy Door!" (You-tube Lily and Pam Ann if don't know what I'm talking about.) Sadly we were only sitting in economy, but we had real glasses to clink and silver cutlery and we started our journey with a Singapore Sling. Though I was very disappointed by the size of the toilets, just the same as any old plane, you would have thought they would give you a bit more space on such a big plane. Anyway enough about that.
We arrived in Singapore and spent a hot and steamy day seeing all that Singapore has to offer. First stop the Buddha Tooth Temple in Chinatown, where the monks and novices were chanting.
Whizzed past the Hindu Temple and then after a Starbucks pit-stop (it was really hot!) on to the famous Merlion statue, the symbol of Singapore:
Then we made a wish at the Fountain of Wealth (it's the largest fountain in the world apparently) before popping in at the Raffles Hotel, the home of the Singapore Sling, Yum! You could imagine Noel Coward whiling away afternoons here.
And that's it. No more sightseeing to do. Plane tomorrow back to the UK and I'll be writing a final blog once I'm over the jet lag. Ta-ta for now.
Just 4 days until we come home, 1 year, 1 month and 8 days since selling up. David Jones recording.
Bye, bye Oz! We're coming to the end of our journey. We've spent the last ten days exploring tropical Queensland, interspersed with looking at the internet for jobs and looking for a flat to rent when we return. So it's all felt very strange, like the journey has finished already.
Queensland is a strange place anyway. How can I describe it? There's some beautiful scenery, wide open spaces - there are not that many people living up here - but it's strangely dull. But it maybe that our take is coloured by the fact that our minds have already turned homeward. We've gone for walks along the beaches at Palm Cove where we stayed for a week, driven up the coast to Port Douglas and explored the rainforest, finding waterfalls and gorges, but it's like we're suffering from view fatigue. You can have too much scenery...
After five weeks in Australia, it's started to have a funny affect on me? Without thinking about it? I can't help speaking without a slight Australian twang? All my sentences sound like questions? Even the shape of my mouth has changed when I make words? It's got so entrenched I can't remember how I am supposed to speak? I hope this will be solved when I get off the plane at Heathrow? But my worry is it'll replaced by a Kent estuary accent? Depends how long we're in Paul's parent's spare room? So if anyone out there is looking for a highly qualified psychosynthesis counsellor with mental health training, drop me a line, quick!
Anyhoo, we've traced our way down the Queensland coast to Airlie Beach via a lovely night in Townsville watching the sun set on Magnetic Island (another thrillingly original name from Captain Cook... his compass broke near it). Airlie Beach is the gateway to the pretty Whitsunday Islands (another Captain Cook stunner, guess when he found these), but as we're out of energy and out of cash we passed on taking a boat or plane trip to see them and were satisfied with some nice views from the coast. Our host reckons the view's just as nice from here anyway.
For those waiting for the famous novel, Agatha's been busy over the last few weeks honing his photography skills (and looking for a job!). So the final draft of the book is still not ready, but 90 per cent complete, he says. We'll all have to wait a bit longer for the masterpiece, it's only been a year, one month and eight days in the making; another few months won't make a difference!
We're flying back to Sydney tomorrow for one mad last night, before starting our journey home via Singapore. Anyhoo, for all those America/UK/Australia next top model fans, here's Paul's best shot, ta ta!
Only 15 days until we're home, 1 year and 28 days since selling up. David Jones recording.
If you've been an avid follower of this blog you won't be surprised to hear that our ventures into the Outback have not involved any tents, camping stoves or dodgy dunnies. We've had a four star adventure in the Outback, and it's been lovely.
Alice Springs, the little city in the red centre of Australia turns out to be a pleasant and surprisingly green place to stay (well it is at the moment, they have had ten times their usual rain in the last year, but fortunately not while we're here). The air is clear, the sky blue, the breeze blows through the gum trees, and the whole vibe is relaxing.
Our main reason for being here is to see the famous Uluru (what used to be called Ayer's Rock). We took a day trip there, which meant an early start - people don't realise that it's a five hour solid drive each way across the desert from Alice Springs!
Emu Run tours did it all very well. Kept us entertained on the ride out, we saw a few camels, and some emus. They took us over to see Kata Tjuta first, another big red rock formation (which from the right angle looks like Homer Simpson lying down at sunset) before driving us over to Uluru itself.
We were amazed by the mystical looking big red rock created hundreds of millions of years ago. Our guide told us some of the mystical aboriginal stories which make this place sacred for them as we walked around. We rounded the day off with a glass of champagne and a good old Aussie barbie as the sun set on the rock. Cool bananas. See you in Queensland.
19 days until we're back home, 1 year and 24 days since selling up. Paul Twocock recording.
"Have you ever, ever felt like like this? Have strange things happened? Are you going round the twist?" Remember that? Cracking Aussie kids drama/comedy in the early nineties about the Twist family who live in a lighthouse and have ghostly adventures? If you don't remember it, get on Amazon now, fantastic series... and we've just stayed just up the road from the Round the Twist lighthouse itself. How exciting!
It's called the Split Point lighthouse at Airey's Inlet and it's at the start of one of the world's most amazing ocean-side highways: the Great Ocean Road along Victoria's coast (though I think California's Big Sur just pips it for spectacular views). Not only do you see gorgeous cliffs, hills and pounding waves inland there are waterfalls, koalas and kangaroos. Though our first animal encounters happened right outside our door at our apartment in Airey's Inlet.
As soon as we arrived we were amazed to be greeted by a big cockatoo swooping down and landing on our balcony. We thought it was a fluke... turned around a few minutes later and there were three cockatoos, we couldn't believe our luck. Five minutes later and there were six lined up along the balcony bannister looking at us intently, and then ten. It was like we were in a scene from 'The Birds'. Course it was obvious what they were here for, and David soon became their biggest chum, doling out multi-grain bread and then sunflower seeds supplied by our hosts.
He even attracted some very exotic looking red and green parrots to land on his arm and feed from his hand - a proper Doctor Doolittle. Though you have to be careful; he ignored his cockatoo posse for just a few moments and was rewarded with a sharp nip on his big toe from one frustrated bird.
Elsewhere along the Ocean Road we had our second encounter with the lovely koala. There's a road inland and up a wooded hill that's famous for its wild koalas, and we weren't disappointed. Usually they are high up in the trees, but we found one hungry little bear sat on a branch right over the middle of the road munching away on his eucalyptus leaves, occasionally having a glance down at us and a little stretch. What a cutie.
The kangaroos we discovered on a golf course were a little more aloof, hopping around on their own business or lounging by a bunker: see the photos in the album.
When we could tear ourselves away from the animal encounters we spent our time driving along the cliff hugging road to our next base and exploring the national parks. We had forest walks to three fantastic waterfalls - pics in the album - visited the oldest lighthouse in Australia (1848) at Cape Otway, and saw the craggy landscapes that the Great Ocean Road is famous for, including the Twelve Apostles:
It's a stunning sight. But it's not alone, eroding limestone cliffs line the coast and just up the way from the Twelve Apostles is a very beautiful and sad place. Loch Ard Gorge is the site of one of the many wrecks along the coast. The Loch Ard was cargo ship that set sail from Gravesend (my home town) in 1878 for Melbourne with 36 crew and 18 emigrant passengers. In a storm and poor visibility it foundered on the rocks one day shy of its destination, smashed against the cliffs and only two people survived: the ship's apprentice Tom Pearse and one of the emigrants Eva Carmichael. They were washed up in the gorge, sheltered in a cave until Tom could climb the cliff and get help. There are photos in the album - it's a very serene place now.
After four days exploring the coast we've set course inland and spent today exploring the goldfields of Victoria - site of one of the biggest gold rushes the world has ever seen - in the 1850s. There are lots of small towns with grand buildings built on the profits, and pockets of scarred landscape that show just how voracious the fortune hunters were. I'll leave you with the sun setting over a hollowed out hill that was once stuffed with gold. Farewell for now. Tomorrow we're off to Melbourne and then we fly to the outback for a date with Uluru. The wifi's a bit iffy here so we'll upload the photo album as soon as we can, check back for more photos next week.
20 days until we come home, 1 year and 23 days since selling up. Paul Twocock recording.
I am recording today because David has picked up an Australian accent after just two weeks and I can't trust him not to spray this with 'G'days', 'good on yers' and other phrases which he keeps using too loudly in company... Anyhoo we've been in Victoria for the last week and a bit, and it's chilly and sometimes very wet. Okay, so winter is coming, we should expect it - but you just don't in Australia. To be fair Australia seems to be equally surprised at the 'earliest start to winter in thirty years'. But we've kept calm and carried on.
Melbourne turned out to be a very workaday city. Some nice Victorian buildings (by the way someone should tell the newscasters that saying 'a Victorian was arrested today for stabbing someone outside a pub' just sounds weird, like there has been a crack in time that Doctor Who needs to step in and sort out) and some decent cafes and restaurants especially out in the suburbs like South Yarra where we stayed. But there are few sights for tourists and the torrential rain and grey skies coloured our experience. It was always a relief to get back to the flat and put the heating on. (Another note to Australia: get central heating! The whole country seems to get by on fan heaters and the occasional gas fire. Not good for the world or for the health.)
On the plus side David got to see an old chum who had emigrated out here ten years ago. We saw the cottage that Captain Cook was born in, which had been transported brick by brick from Yorkshire. And we did make a pilgrimage to the real Ramsay Street, though it's been so long since we watched it we had difficulty remembering all the houses. Here's us outside the home of Madge and Harold, and the place where Scott Robinson first set eyes on Charlene Mitchell, aah innocent days...
After four days in the city we set off to explore the Victorian coast (there I'm doing it now - ridiculous). First stop was a long weekend in Phillip Island, a small island off the coast, main town Cowes, next to Ventnor. David's folks, sister and family all live on the Isle of Wight back home so we know it well and there were certainly similarities. Indeed Cowes is twinned with its namesake in the mother land. But one thing the Isle of Wight doesn't have is Phillip Island's animal attractions.
As soon as we arrived at our 'eco-resort' we were surrounded by pink and grey parrots (Galahs or rose-brested cockatoos we found out later) and some red, green and purple ones too. Some rather pretty wading birds wandered around probably looking for the marsh land the 'eco-resort' had been built on. Then we went for a short bush walk in a nearby reserve to be amazed by swamp wallabies popping up, left, right and centre staring at us curiously, wondering what the hell we were doing.
Next stop was the famous Penguin Parade. A colony of thousands of little blue penguins live and breed at a spot on the south west corner of Phillip Island, and every night, just after sunset you can see them come home from fishing in the sea, waddle across the beach in groups and climb up the grassy hills to their burrows. No photos I'm afraid, cameras strictly prohibited, and there is always a crowd of people there (even on cold, windy winter nights) but nothing detracts from the amazing and comical sight of these little penguins coming home. And what a racket they make when they get back up to their burrows. The place resounds with squawks and trills and penguins flapping their flippers in mating rituals. It's really cool.
We completed our wildlife encounters the following day with the ultimate Australian icon: the cuddly Koalas. The poor sods find life so trying they spend 20 hours a day asleep, so most of the bears we saw in the trees were tucked up in a ball having forty winks, but they were totally enchanting: how could you not say aaah?
We've got into the Australian groove now, and are really enjoying the last leg of the grand tour. Australia, even more than New Zealand is very like Britain in many ways. They even love Eurovision, so we had a whole weekend of the glorious camp festival every night in Phillip Island, yay!
But as we say up top, there's only 20 days left so we've started thinking about our return: a few job applications in, more to do, real life beckons. But not for another 20 days. So here's to a fabulous last three weeks. Good on yer!
31 days until we come home, one year and 12 days since selling up. David Jones recording.
Sydney is such a wonderful place, especially after the relative isolation of the islands in French Polynesia. We stayed in a wonderful trendy apartment facing one of the many bays in Sydney Harbour. We caught a ferry into town every day, which made us feel like a local. We have really enjoyed the bars and cafes and the normal trimmings of a modern city. I think I have finally discovered my bliss: mod cons and civilisation.
We also ventured out of the city to the Blue Mountains, so named because of the blue hue given off by the surrounding eucalyptus trees. It makes you start to realise just how vast Australia is.
We have enjoyed living in Sydney; eating pie and chips, taking the ferry to Manly beach and having fish and chips sitting in a harbour-side park. Despite Australians' protests, it all seemed very British, perhaps even more than when we were in New Zealand. They are even showing the new series of Dr Who on the TV. But as Dr House said to his Australian colleague: you must be British, you have the Queen's head on your money!
We have loved sitting in the evening at the apartment watching the parrots and kookaburras, and waiting for the late night appearance of the possum running across the deck. SHUSH! He doesn't know we are watching!
Let's hope the rest of Oz is just as enjoyable, as we are starting to think about the real world and returning to normal life. (I have already applied to one job, fingers crossed!) We need to try and make the most of our final month, so ta-ta for now, off to Melbourne in the morning
Oh yes, must just mention the lammingtons: a great chocolate and coconut covered sponge cake which makes a very nice treat for afternoon tea! Such fun!
41 days until we come home, 1 year and 2 days since selling up: David Jones recording.
What do you do when you arrive somewhere and you know it's going to be hell? Pack up, get out of there? But what if it's a coral atoll in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and the few flights out every day are full, so you're stuck for four days? Let me tell you what happens...
As we flew into Tikehau we passed over some lovely looking sandy islands reefed with blue lagoon. Just what you'd expect from a coral atoll. Though we should have know things would go wrong. It was a lot bigger than we expected and the lagoon itself looked a bit choppy from the air, not exactly what the still turquoise bath you imagine on an atoll.
And that was the case. The main island was indeed covered in palm trees, but also liberal amounts of fly-tipping. The fabled white and pink sand of Tikehau was in fact mainly coral shingle. The lagoon looked like Dover port from our shack, slate-blue and rough. And there really wasn't any saving grace. We felt truly stranded.
But our digs made that so much worse. The lagoon-side bungalow, turned out to be a poky, old thatched affair on stilts with the world's most uncomfortable bed (bamboo poles supporting a mattress which sank in despair whenever you got on it), old, dog-eared sheets, frequent bug infestations and water that spurted out in explosions whenever you turned the tap on. At night we had to sleep fully clothed in our anti-mosquito suits to avoid bites of God knows what in the dark. It was like being in 'Ells Bells in Carry on Abroad. And this was for the princely sum of £150 a night including breakfast and dinner.
And the food didn't save it. Breakfast mainly consisted of stale bread zapped in the microwave to try to freshen it up and if we were lucky doughnuts or pancakes - the doughnuts were nice but only came on our first morning. Dinner consisted of different ways to cook cheap fish or on one night an ominously titled plate of 'meat' - animal source not specified. Add to that four large French families with noisy kids and you have the recipe for a complete hell hole.
We were very British about it though. Sat on our balcony, Agatha got on with re-writing his book, I played a lot of Tetris, and counted down the days. But they dragged out terribly.
Air Tahiti were unable to offer us a seat out until Thursday when we were already booked to go. On day two we phoned the only hotel in Tikehau the ultra expensive Pearl Resort which sat shimmering like a mirage across the lagoon. We knew it would be too dear but crossed our fingers for a great deal. And they did offer us a reduced price, but still much more expensive than the hell hole. We were sensible and decide to keep buggering on.
But on the morning of our last full day (Wednesday), after a particularly buggy night on the bamboo torture bed and being presented with more stale bread and some claptrap from our host that she had nothing else in the house because the boat hadn't come (the shop which was well stocked sat one minute down the road by car) we finally flipped. We booked a beach bungalow at the Pearl for one night only and walked out of the hell hole for the jetty and our boat to Fantasy Island.
And it really lived up to its name. It was like going from the bad house to the fabulous house on Big Brother. A small island, covered in palms, surrounded by beach and clear turquoise lagoon. A lovely welcome and calm atmosphere you could float on. And when we got to the room we just couldn't contain our excitement.
It was amazing. A huge bungalow with high ceilings. Huge comfortable bed. Sofa, two cushioned sun-beds with a lagoon view on the beach. And the piece de resistance: an outside bathroom, so you could shave, shower and wee under the palm trees and the stars. It was like going to another world.
All the tension and grubbiness of the last three days lifted in an instant. We went snorkelling in the lagoon and were surrounded by hundreds of fish (Paul even swam with a little shark), I finally gave in and went Kayaking in a tandem canoe with Paul (but he can't work as a team, our paddles were every where) and we laid peacefully on our sun-beds as the sun sank into the lagoon and a school band from the village played their repertoire of two songs on ukuleles.
It was a perfect day and ended our South Pacific odyssey on a high. And now we're going to be flying high down under to Oz. Next blog we'll be saying G'day from Sydney! Ia Orana Polynesia...
46 days until we come home, 362 days since selling up. David Jones recording.
Oh My! They do like to charge you a lot of money in Bora Bora… phew! But don’t worry folks hardened travellers like us have our little ways and means of making a 1000 francs go a long way. I can’t tell you how many baguette, pate and cheese suppers we’ve had this week. But we came here to have our one and only experience of living on an overwater bungalow on a blue lagoon and we’ve done it!
It’s been lovely listening to the lapping waves of the lagoon to lull us to sleep (it masked some of the noise from the nearby road!), and waking up to jump off the deck right into the water and snorkel with the fishes and the octopus that lived underneath.
And what a view. We ended up with one directly opposite Tracy Island – our name for the Motu sitting in the lagoon across the way from us. Every day we expected to see a Thunderbird but alas none have launched.
But be warned globetrotters, Bora Bora has been the most built-up and developed of all the south pacific islands we’ve been to. That means you have some of the modern conveniences like kettles (ooh, how lovely to have cuppa when you want one), TV and restaurants. But that also means people are a bit less friendly and you have more travellers alongside you, so some days the pool at the supposedly five star hotel we stayed at looked a bit like a scene from the comedy ‘Benidorm’. Fortunately our bungalow was as far away from the centre of the resort as possible. Hooray!
So our advice is if you have to choose, go to Maupiti – more beautiful, on a smaller scale and a much more calming a place to be: but you won’t get a kettle! Hey-ho.
We’re off on another little plane tomorrow to our last stop in the South Seas island hop – the isolated coral atoll of Tikehau. We’ll tell you all about when we hit civilisation again.
51 days until we come home, 357 days since selling up. David Jones recording.
Oh my God! We are tired, which sounds daft because we have not worked for a year, but actually travelling the seven seas can be pretty tiring. Living from a suitcase and moving on every few days or maybe after a week takes it out of you. But the joys of arriving in new places and meeting new people help perk us up.
Maupiti is one of those ‘perk-up’ places despite my reservations about going there – compulsory half board and not feeling as independent as in other places we’ve been, there really isn’t much on the island.
We flew from Tahiti on a tiny little plane (bit like Fantasy Island) and arrived on this isolated isle to be greeted with Tiare lei garlands and the stunning view of a dramatic rocky island bobbing in a perfect blue lagoon. And then we were whisked off on a speed boat across the water to our home for the next five days.
We were staying at the Pension Tautiare Village run by Dawn Domingo, her boyfriend and family. We had half-board and Dawn did her best to keep us fed with her staple diet of rice and fish with the occasional delicious chicken curry. We did try the traditional Tahitian specialty – Poisson Cru – but it is raw tuna in a salad and although it tasted alright neither of us can really cope with the texture and idea of raw fish. As George Takei recently tweeted, the Japanese are still laughing at how the gullible world has gone mad for sushi.
There was a warm welcome from Dawn and her family throughout, which even included a special mega-gateau for Paul on his birthday with a candle to blow out, and being invited to her family picnic out on the desert island motu near Maupiti’s coral reef, where we saw sting rays make love – how romantic, or rather how splashy!
We had a relaxing time. The first day we borrowed a couple of bikes and cycled around the island. Most mornings we walked along the coast through wooded trails and along sandy coves to the best beach which sits on a perfect and shallow blue lagoon. One day we met an octopus, another day Paul almost bumped into a conger eel. But by far the most amusing morning was when we sat watching a lady trying to serenely float in the lagoon while being pestered by a little black dog who wanted to play with her and wouldn’t take shoo for an answer. She would splash and splash but he kept coming back when her back was turned. At one point three other dogs set off from the beach doggy paddling over to join in the fun. But the lady was not for turning. After roping in a fisherman to try to get rid of the dog, eventually the playful little thing got the message and paddled off with his doggy friends.
The beach view was spectacular: the perfect South Seas turquoise blue lagoon, unfortunately it was only knee-deep so great for a bob, but not so good to swim in. But it’s surprising how many happy hours you can spend bobbing in a lagoon.
So despite my reservations we had an enjoyable time in Maupiti and appreciated its natural beauty, although we’ve moved on now and it is amazing what comfort it is to have a kettle in your room again. But more on Bora Bora next time. Till then ta-ta!
58 days until we come home, 350 since selling up. David Jones recording.
We have arrived in la belle French Polynesia. It is very beautiful and there are real French baguettes and croissants. Food at last! After spending a night in Tahiti we sailed to its little sister Moorea where we enjoyed three days in our beachfront chic shack, with air conditioning and wifi!
We listened to the lap of the sea on the beach and the roar of the mega waves on the reef, which unnervingly seems to get louder at night, not helping my constant vigilance (worry!) about tsunamis. On every one of these islands I plan an escape route in case I see the tide go out.
Bonjour from Moorea! (our chic shack is just in between our heads)
We hired a space pod for the day (take a look at it in the album) and had a mad day driving around the island at least twice. We found a Champion supermarket and behaved as if we were in a Hypermarché in Boulogne or Calais at Christmas. We spent the rest of the day looking at picture postcard views. We saw where Captain Cook anchored in 1777, and a good few piles of rocks where Tahitian temples used to be. Today they seem to be inhabited by mosquitoes.
Opunohu Bay to the left and Cook's Bay to the right (he landed in Opunohu Bay - makes sense?!)
On our exploration around the island we saw places to stay that we couldn't afford on our budget, among them the famous Sofitel Moana overwater bungalows which have probably seen many a honeymoon night. Our accommodation however was just as special, particularly when Maurice would wander down the pier carrying his blue plastic bag full of beef (in the immortal words of Ferne Britton he liked dunking a bit a beef!). He was like the Pied Piper of Moorea: everyone jumped to their feet and followed him to the end of the jetty. Once there they gasped with awe as he fed the sharks who always came swimming in half an hour before sunset. Enough to put you off going into the water. Paul assures me they are harmless to humans, but surely they've got a taste for red meat now! Especially red meat pink at the edges because of the sun like me. There's a pic of these beasts in the album.
They look nice, but we couldn't afford them... one day Donna!
The sun sets early in the South Seas, but we would spend many an evening playing that famous South Seas game Le Jeu de Polynesie - or as I call it Jeu de Peu de Polyneese. This game is marvellous. It keeps you entertained for hours, and I am the champion: I won every game we played. Oh and did I tell you it's the French Polynesian version of wait for it... Monopoly. But it's not just your ordinary house and hotels, you can get pineapple farms, pearl farms, fishing fleets. And you have to watch out for the weather cards which can send a Tsunami or Cyclone to ruin your fortune. Such fun. I'd like my own copy please Santa.
'Jeu de Peu de Polyneese'
We have now left Moorea and are bracing ourselves for a desert island experience, staying with the Domingo family on the isolated island of Maupiti, where the plane only flies in every five days. Maybe it's like Fantasy Island! Let's hope it's my fantasy. We'll let you know when we get online again, no wifi in Maupiti. Aere Ra! That's pronounced 'airy rah' (meaning bye, bye) - so 'airy rah'!