The Great Ocean Road

We're back home now but there's time for some thoughts about the Great Ocean Road before the memories start to fade. There's not a lot to say that hasn't been said already, but travelling the road is an experience of two distinct halves, either side of the Cape Otway Lightstation national park. 

On the east side there are miles and miles of golden beaches and rolling waves, making towns like Torquay and Anglesea the surf capitals of Australia. The road from Torquay to Apollo Bay was built after the First World War as a tribute to the soldiers who didn't return. Most of the work was done by those servicemen who did come home as it was thought that this would help them recuperate and rehabilitate into civilian life. They hacked their way into the steep cliffs with methods considered primitive even at the time, leaving a road that snakes along the shoreline offering a series of spectacular views.

The dominant feature of the west side of the road from Cape Otway to Port Campbell is the way the limestone and sandstone cliffs have been eroded to create stunning rock formations such as the Twelve Apostles and Loch Ard Gorge which are beautiful to behold.

These rock formations are constantly changing, and many are hidden just below the surface, making life difficult for sailors and lending the name of the Shipwreck Coast to the area.

The Cape Otway Lightstation was built to improve matters in 1848 although nowadays it's been replaced by a beacon and the keeper's cottage has been converted into a holiday apartment. As a final night treat we stayed there and with the park closed at the end of the day, we had it to ourselves apart from the caretaker and one other family, to enjoy views of the lighthouse and sunset, the moon and stars above and crashing waves below. A blissful end to an amazing holiday.

Four days with Rod Laver

When we booked this holiday we probably expected to see Novak Djokovic play Andy Murray in the men's tennis final, and hoped to see Andy lift the trophy for the first time. 

That dream died a long time ago, but it was replaced by a reality no one would have dreamed of. Roger Federer v Rafa Nadal in the men's final, Serena against Venus Williams in the women's: a throwback to Wimbledon finals weekend of 2008. In fact the last time Serena and Venus played in the Australian final was 2003. 

Our first taste of the tennis was a men's doubles semi, the Bryan brothers against Carreno Busta and Garcia-Lopez. They coped with Australia Day gun salutes outside and flypasts above as well as a few spots of rain and completed the match under the roof, the Bryans reaching their 10th final in Australia.

Then the women's semis; the next big thing Coco Vanderweghe fought hard and avoided any tantrums for two hours but Venus battled through and expressed her joy in a form of modern dance. Serena had less trouble against another oldie Mirjana Lucic-Baroni to set up the first unexpected final of the weekend. 

Roger Federer missed the second half of last year through injury and had slipped to 17th in the seedings, and we weren't the only ones to say he couldn't win another grand slam, but a series of hard fought victories against Thomas Berdych, Kei Nishikori and Stan Wawrinka saw him reach the final before we settled down to watch the second semi final. 

To set up the dream match, Rafa Nadal needed to beat Gregor Dimitrov. Like Roger, Rafa had struggled with a series of injuries and his best days seemed behind him, while Dimitrov had been the star of the tournament, apparently fulfilling his potential at last. The intensity was breathtaking but Nadal would not be beaten, although it was nearly one in the morning when he finally won the fifth set. 

I've often thought that finals between the Williams tend to be a bit of a let down and although this was closer than many, once Serena had conquered the nerves and errors which held her back in the first set, there was only going to be one winner. 

There were many who thought that after the effort of reaching the final, Roger and Rafa would also find it difficult to live up to the hype. It is true that both men looked tired and this allowed dominance to switch from one to the other in the first four sets. But in the fifth both raised their level and played at their best. Rafa got the early break and held off Roger's first counter attack, but Roger fought back to win five games in a row and became the oldest player to win a Grand Slam title since Ken Rosewall in 1972.

Away from the tennis, Melbourne was the exciting cosmopolitan city we expected: modern skyscrapers mixed with Victorian civic buildings, a large Chinatown and strong Italian and Greek influences alongside the British and native Australian cultures, good food and excellent public transport including free trams in the city centre. St Kilda with its nice beach and trashy entertainment was only a few minutes away but really this weekend was all about the Rod Laver arena. 

Walhalla

Walhalla was a mining boom town in the Victorian gold rush. Between 1862 and 1914 over seventy tons of gold passed through the vaults of the town's banks. 

Built in a steep gorge along the creek where the gold was first found, Walhalla was home to more than 3500 people at its peak, but as gold yields fell, people moved out and the town now has only 20 permanent residents.

Many of the town's buildings were dismantled and moved elsewhere, but those that remain have been restored and many more have been rebuilt in the original style. 

We stayed in an extraordinary bed and breakfast, built in the last ten years but faithful to the period down to the fixtures and fittings.

We travelled on the train which wasn't completed until 1910 by which time the gold was starting to run out.

We also went to the cemetery, clinging to the steep hill. 

Finally we climbed for half an hour to visit the cricket pitch at the top of the gorge. Although the Melbourne cricket club played here in the town's golden era, it wasn't much of a sight now, though we did enjoy the sense of achievement just getting there.

A wild and windy day on Wilson's promontory

We've seen plenty of bank holidays like this in West Bay: winds you can hardly stand up in, heavy showers and a proper British picnic in the car. Welcome to Wilson's Promontory. 

The weather in Victoria is nothing like New South Wales. Daytime temperatures in Sydney were 30 degrees, made comfortable by a sea breeze, and although it was scorching hot when we arrived in Melbourne, the temperature fell 15 degrees by dinner time. Since then the climate has been positively British, temperatures in the mid twenties but a bracing wind and plenty of rain. 

We spent Wednesday on the Mornington peninsula, full of golden beaches, rugged coastlines and great views from Arthur's seat, named after the one in Edinburgh. 

On Thursday we visited Phillips island, where the main town Cowes is lovelier than the one on the Isle of Wight. We also visited a koala reserve before driving along a spectacular coast towards Fish Creek.

At first sight, Fish Creek is a typical general store and petrol station stop. But it has a lovely Art Deco hotel and a small cafe opposite; we've eaten in both and both were really busy and the food was delicious. We also had a nice local Cabernet Sauvignon, though we've not had time to visit any of the vineyards. 

And so to Wilsons Promontory, a large national park at the southernmost tip of mainland Australia. For the first time since Christmas Eve we had to wear jumpers as well as long trousers, but between the showers we saw some of the best beaches so far, and a wildlife walk where we got close to a large group of kangaroos. And today's featured cute furry animal was a wombat!

72 hours in Sydney

If my friend Paul's business interests ever go pear-shaped, a life as a tour guide beckons. From the moment he picked us up to the moment he dropped us back at the airport, he had more than enough ideas to fill the day and drove hours to make sure  we saw the best places. 

This was our second visit following a brief stop after the Hunter Valley. On New Year's Eve we walked the length of Manly Beach to get a fabulous breakfast at a beach front cafe. 

Last Saturday Paul and his wife Lorraine took us from the airport to Botany Bay, Cronulla beach, then up to Bondi for dinner, then further along the southern beaches towards the city centre where we stopped for an ice cream.

On Sunday we took the Manly ferry back to the centre to visit a friend of Moira's family for a BBQ, then to the botanic gardens and an open air cinema with Paul and Lorraine. What a place to see a movie! After a delicious dinner overlooking the harbour, the screen rose out of the water, with the opera house and bridge in the background. It didn't matter what the film was but Manchester by the Sea didn't let us down.

On Monday we took a ferry from Palm Beach, of tv soap Home and Away fame, to Ettalong village on the central coast. And on Tuesday we visited Balmoral on the way to collapsing on the the flight to Melbourne. It goes to prove again that the best way to discover a city is for a local to show you their favourite spots, not just rely on the guide books. 

Glorious Whitsunday Islands...

Like the Great Barrier Reef itself, the 74 islands making up the Whitsundays were discovered and named for the western world by Captain Cook. After running into some dead ends he found a safe passage through the islands shortly after celebrating Whit. 

We stayed in Airlie Beach, which has a reputation as a backpackers resort where young people find all sorts of interesting ways of entertaining themselves. But the young people we saw were pretty well behaved and we were staying a bit of of town, well away from the club all nighters.  

There are also a string of marinas along the shore, home to some pretty fancy yachts, and where there are marinas, there are nice bars and restaurants, so there was no need to go hungry or thirsty. All in all very much like Portland except for thirty degree temperatures and ninety per cent humidity.

A number of operators offer Whitsunday cruises and we chose Whitehaven Xpress. Leaving one of the aforementioned marinas, we rounded the point and headed south, captain Shane picking his way between the rocks and the islands. We passed Hamilton island, which seems to have been sacrificed to the tourism trade in a deal to preserve the other islands. Hamilton has luxury resorts, a golf course and even an international airport while most other islands have at little more development than a camping ground and a bush toilet. 

First stop was the seven kilometres of Whitehaven beach, famous for its soft white sand. The colour comes from its high silica content which has other interesting properties. No matter how hot the sun, the sand remains cool and comfortable to walk on barefoot. It is also the material used by jewellers to polish rings, and a quick rub with the sand made our wedding rings sparkle almost like new.

This corner of paradise has one drawback. The invisible Irukandji  jellyfish has a sting which can kill in minutes, so we weren't allowed in the water without a fetching black head to toe stinger suit. Once we'd struggled into these we had a nice cooling swim in the sea while the crew prepared a BBQ for lunch.

Eating lunch in the shade we were joined by a number of lace monitor lizards, of which the biggest was nearly four feet long from tongue to tail, harmless but just looking for an easy feed.

We got back on the boat and headed up to Hook inlet, where we were given a guided walk to a ridge overlooking the shore with great views of the sand, the sea and some of the other islands. 

Then further north to a tranquil little bay off Hook island, sheltered from the wind, no waves or current, perfect for snorkelling. And for me to enjoy it, it has to be perfect. But unlike my swim off the dive boat, I was completely at ease and enjoyed every minute of it, seeing all kinds of colourful, albeit nameless to me, fish. 

The final thrill of the day was seeing a flash of a marine animal leaping out of the water on our way back to port. I thought it was a dolphin but our experienced guide said it was a dugong so I'm happy to take his word for it. 

Townsville

We didn't have any plans to stop in Townsville, it's just a big city between Mission Beach and Ayr, where Moira was booked in for her dive on the Yongala. But Moira's brother worked in Townsville some years ago so she thought some pictures would show how it has changed. 

The city is overlooked by a 260 metre high hill and you can reach the top by following a steep 2 kilometre road (work out the gradient for yourself). At the top you are rewarded with magnificent 360 degree views over the city, down the coast, out to the sea and back inland to the hills and woodland. 

It's a very popular pastime and every few yards there were people walking alone or in groups of twos or threes, some brave hearts running and one or two kamikaze cyclists. There were a few cars as well. We were in one of them. 

The Wet

We've mentioned the rain a few times - well it is the wet season in the Wet Tropics. 

We saw the fruits of all this rain on Sunday. Driving up to the Atherton Tablelands, rolling green fields at a high altitude, we saw plantations of every kind - bananas, melons, mangoes, papayas (local wineries use these fruits instead of grapes) as well as the humble apple, plus countless beef and dairy farms. 

It was a bit like driving through Ireland but with added rainforest. Stops and detours included some lovely waterfalls and a platypus colony.

Then the rain set in as usual and it was teeming down by the time we reached Mission Beach. What was different was that this time it just carried on. Heavy enough to drown out the soft whirring of the air con. And it was still going at 9 in the morning. 

Local news said over 250 mm of rain fell overnight. I don't know how that relates to a soggy day in Skegness but it sounds a lot to me. 

One beneficial side effect of the rain was that we came back from breakfast to find a wallaby sheltering under a bush outside our window.

The overcast and windy conditions also meant we could walk along the beach without overheating, though of course today was the day I caught the sun a little. 

We're now staying on the Cassowary Coast and have been looking for these creatures ever since we arrived at Port Douglas. We were beginning to give up hope but we bumped into someone on the coastal path who said he'd seen one so we got back to the car and drove around a few times until an adult and two chicks suddenly walked out of the undergrowth in front of the car. Perseverance pays!!

Birthday blowout

Walk up a tree lined path and you find yourself deep in the rainforest, 100 yards off main street.

A canopy is stretched above a room the size of a small village hall so it's like sitting in a marquee without walls.  

The sound of the rain drumming on the canopy, the chirruping of the insects, the scent of the candles and above all the resident but camera shy bandicoot combine to create a unique atmosphere 

We began with cocktails: a killer gin martini for me and a basil gin smash for Moira. 

   

And then the food: a seven course taster menu, nothing smart or clever but everything melt in the mouth and full of flavour. 

We dodged the oyster starter and asked for scallop instead; then yellowfin tuna with radish, edamame bean and wasabi. I'm no big fan of 'raw fish' but this was excellent.  Next  giant king prawn in a 'pastry' that was the finest tempura, with a black garlic purée; crayfish with fennel, tomato and asparagus; duck dumplings in a consommé with hoisin and shiitake mushrooms; and beef fillet and rib, with shallot bearnaise and mushrooms. Just room for a sweet and creamy mango soufflé. 

Each course was matched with a perfect wine:  Sauv Blanc, Pinot Gris, Riesling, Shiraz. The surprise was a Grenache/Cinsault rose with the dumplings. What an experience! 

Earlier in the day we rode the Skyrail cable car to Kuranda. A 7.5km ride above the rainforest canopy with incredible views over the countryside back to Cairns and the sea beyond, plus a stop at a spectacular lookout over the red waters of the Barron Falls. Then back on a one hundred year old narrow gauge railway, brakes screeching as we hugged the hillside.

And the biggest surprise of all was saved for the end of the journey. In an area which gets two metres of rain each year, we were told that the Skyrail had been rained off the day before and the day before that. So we'd have missed out if I'd been born on another day. 

Onwards from Cairns

We are driving along a road through dense rain forest. The canopy meets overhead and the sun breaks through only weakly. But look closer and you see that the forest is less dense on one side. Look closer still and you see glimpses of the sea and even a beach, sometimes only ten yards away. 

This is the road to Cape Tribulation where the Daintree rainforest meets the Coral sea. A few miles further on, just beyond cape trib itself, we literally reach the end of the road as the sealed road becomes a gravel track suitable only for 4 wheel drives heading up to Cooktown.

Since leaving the dive expedition three days ago we've been travelling up and down the Captain Cook highway north of Cairns, exploring the Port Douglas and Daintree areas

When you find them, the beaches are beautiful: golden sands, blue sea, trees and mangroves down to the water's edge, and virtually deserted. But for a boy from the Erewash valley the area north of the Daintree river is an alien environment. It is tropical enough to grow its own brand of tea, and the temperature rarely drops below 25 even in the torrential rain storms which seem to arrive every evening around dusk.

Road signs warn of crossing cassowaries and all of the beaches have notices warning of crocodiles & jellyfish and even provide bottles of vinegar to treat the stings. The only crocs we saw were on a river cruise and spotted by our expert guide Dave, but we did see a number of brush turkeys. Perhaps my favourite creature of all was the flying fox, a bat the size of a crow, which roosts in huge numbers during the day before flying to the cooling sea in massive flocks in the evening. 

There really is a baby croc in there!

The authorities here display their jewels well, with lookout stations near  roads and boardwalks to take you into the heart of the rainforest. We followed one of these today, an eerie experience with all the chattering insects and a good counterpart to yesterday's cable car ride. And that story is for another day. 

Birthday diving on the Great Barrier Reef

So, as Richard said on the last post, we're a bit out of sync, and also somewhat behind on updating the blog - too many things to do!

Back to Monday, and it was the big day for me!  I was faced with reality very early in the morning when checking in at Mike Ball Diving - I had to complete the standard form, and one of the first questions asked was my age....  Not a great feeling writing 50!! Anyway, the shock soon wore off when we were brought to the small plane to fly us to Lizard Island where we would pick up the boat.  I got prime position right behind the pilot, hurray.  It was a low level flight, just a couple of hundred feet above the sea, so perfect view of the coral reefs - stunning!

Up beside the pilots

   

Barrier Reef from the air

On board, and after sorting out equipment and discussing diving experience with Craig, the trip manager, we were ready for the first dive.  Unbelievably, I was buddied up with a girl from Comber, a town just down the road from where my parents live, and she also went to the same school as me!  Fantastic opening dive on Cod Hole where we saw some very large Potato Cod and barracudas.  Unfortunately just after that dive I got rather seasick (it was a fairly rough sea) and I was the only one who hadn't taken seasickness tablets - had to bail out of the next dive, and lunch.  Felt much better for the night dive, which was brilliant!!  So much life, it was amazing - highlight being when I was filming a turtle settling down for the night, and was photobombed by a shark!  Heaps of smallish sharks all out hunting with loads of trevally.  Also saw a baby octopus out on the sand - hope it survived the night with all those hungry mouths circling!

Back on board and I started to feel rough again - I tried to have dinner, but lamb curry wasn't appealing, so I retired to the deck for some fresh air.  I was called back to the dining room though - everyone on the boat was gathered to sing Happy Birthday and Darren the chef had baked me a lovely cake.  I only wish I had been feeling more human, because I couldn't even eat a mouthful of it...  Bottle of bubbly was also popped for me, but at least Richard enjoyed some of it - I can't remember the last birthday I had without a single drop of alcohol!

The rest of the diving for the three days was all fantastic, even though the coral bleaching was clear to see.  Also much of the coral has been damaged by the number of cyclones which have hit the area in the past few years - there were a number of the dives where there was massive scree faces of dead and broken coral.  But there is hope that it will regenerate and get back into a better state.

Hello again

Technical difficulties and lack of connection mean we're getting a bit out of order, but we're back on dry land after three brilliant nights at sea with Mike Ball Dive Expeditions. 

More of the trip later but it was strangely liberating having no contact with the outside world: no opportunity to check the latest news, football results, bank balances or facebook posts. 

The strange thing is that the more you travel the more you realise it's a small world: one of the crew went to school in Farnham and one of the guests works in Comber, just down the road from Moira's brother. 

Everyone has a story. Another crew member told me he played cricket at regional level and once opened the batting against Allan Donald,  although he hardly looked old enough. Then there's the chef who was scared of the water but learned to dive in seven weeks. 

The crew were all fantastic, both as hosts and dive guides.  I mentioned the long hours they work and one said 'well it's hard work but it's hardly working.'

Today we drove to Port Douglas along the Captain Cook highway, a beautiful road where the rainforest really does meet the beach. 

In the next post you'll see more pictures of us sweating in the searing heat. 

Hunter Valley

Only 2% of Australian grapes are grown Hunter Valley but it is the oldest wine area in Australia and the most popular in terms of visitor numbers so we thought it would be a good place to get over the jet lag.

We stayed at Hermitage Lodge, our balcony overlooking the small vineyard from which they produce their own Shiraz, served in the mini bar and restaurants. 

 

The Hunter Valley is hot. Too hot to grow much Sauvignon Blanc or Cabernet Sauvignon so the most popular grapes are Semillon and Shiraz. While we've been here the temperature has reached 39 in the shade, 45 on the road. Even the locals are struggling.

So the only way to sample the wines on offer is a guided tour. The Vineyard Shuttle Service and they picked us up at 1030, on Tuesday and we saw a total of five wineries.

Hunters Dream has only been open three months in this name having been taken over by a health care company. All their wine is grown and produced on the estate but it is not yet available in shops. Our favourite was the 2016 Trend Semillon, younger than the others, quite green in colour and off dry. 

Next stop was Peacock Hill, a boutique winery. Owner Silvie and her husband George raced through their range backed up by some ripe Aussie banter - our favourites were a 70 percent Chardonnay blend called Absent Friends which was all pear drops, Fond Memories, a Shiraz which tasted like coffee and chocolate, and a lovely sparkling Moscato called Stolen Moments. 

We stopped at the Hope Estate for lunch. A very impressive place which holds concerts on the lawns, big concerts like Bruce Springsteen. They also have a micro brewery on site and an impressive barrel room but they didn't seem that bothered about their wines.

After lunch Macleishs, a small winery run by a family who left Kilmarnock about thirty years ago. And last stop was a big name, McGuigans. McGuigan crush ten per cent of Australian grapes, but not much of it at their Hunter Valley winery. This where they set up the business in 1992, but most of their wines seen on British shelves come from a huge winery in South Australia. That said, most of the wines we tasted are made in the Hunter Valley, and only on sale there: a non traditional sparkling semillon blanc, Pinot Gris, Shiraz, late harvest Merlot. In all honesty it was hard to differentiate by now, but it was clear they are proud of winning the IWSC winemakers of the year award again in 2016. 

Yesterday we took to our own car to head for the hills and soak up some views before racing for the aircon again.