Christchurch

Jean writes:

First reaction to arrival in Christchurch?  Cold.  12 degrees C.  I need socks and trainers! Guess that might not be too cold as compared with UK.  It's a bit of a culture shock after the heat and humidity of Sydney yesterday at 33 degrees C though.

Second impression as we drove from the airport to our accommodation - what a lot of devastation is left four and a half years on from the earthquake of September 2010, which caused a large amount of damage to the buildings in New Zealand's second largest city.  The subsequent earthquake, in February 2011 killed one hundred and eighty five people and caused yet more damage.  Reconstruction plans were estimated to be $40 billion although we don't know how much of that has been spent.  

Suffice it to say that there are lots of signs of rebuilding, along with empty plots, cranes and other machinery.  Many of the bare outside walls have murals on them. 

Our apartment block has a building site adjacent to it.

In a Huf

Dave writes:

Once again, no great plaudits for Europcar (qv) as we picked up our hire car at Christchurch airport.

The guys might have mentioned (a) the ignition did not work until you put the clutch in (b) the rear doors and boot would not unlock until you hit the key device TWICE (c) reverse gear is extremely difficult to get and (d) might have produced satnav which we believed was part of the deal.

On reflection much of it could have been avoided if they had taken the trouble to walk five minutes with us over to the vehicle.

Now where have I read that before.

Btw, the car registration number is HUF 720. That's me.
______

How the mighty have fallen

My Priority Pass gives access to over 700 airport lounges worldwide - but. as it happens, not Sydney.

I only found out after being shunned at two of them as an online check confirmed that in 0Z I am only good for Melbourne and Cairns.

Grrr.

Worse still I had just changed all my OZ money for NZ and only had enough, back with the masses,  for a single croissant until Jean kindly rescued me.

All such gripes fade though as we drove through Christchurch and the parts still coping with the earthquakes from 2010/11.

Cheap Skates

When considering our itinerary for today, we spotted a free walking tour.  The guides started the organisation and are still in education (Josh, our guide, is a history student at the university). 

We spent over three hours walking from the Town Hall to Sydney Harbour Bridge, taking in many detours on the way, including the Queen Victoria Building, and listening to lots of information and interesting stories too.

What value!  The guides make their money from tips - and Josh was well worth it.  

If you're ever in Sydney, look out for the tour.  Apparently similar tours run in Melbourne but we had no idea about them while there.  

The story which tickled me most was about the Rum Hospital.

Macquarie was the Governor at the time, and this coincided with a population containing many convicts.  When he requested funds from the Crown to build a hospital he received the thumbs down.  No matter, he was a man who could come up with alternative ideas and devised a plan to give all liquor distribution to three entrepreneurs.  The pay off for Macquarie was that they build a hospital.  

In fact, they did more than enough to fulfil their part of the deal and paid for the construction of a massive building, with North, South, East and West wings, far too large for the existing population.  

The liquor connection earned it the name of the Rum Hospital with locals.  

Much of the building, with some renovations, still exists today.  

This afternoon saw us at the Rocks Market, a lively location with a large variety of stalls.  

Jess, a friend of Dave's, joined us for an evening meal and after which she took us to the sixty first floor of her work building, the Governor Philip Tower, and showed us some breathtaking views of the city.  

That would have been good enough, but whilst there, the sun lowered to below the horizon, affording me dozens of photos in the various stages of setting.  I won't include them all here! 

Great finale

Dave writes:

Quick morning stroll round Kings Cross where we have been staying.

Almost as lively at 0930 am as on the evening with drinking still going at one bar and a night club chucking out last revellers.

Vibrant area with great diversity but not too many over 60s around.

Great finale to our stay in Australia as we meet up in the evening at Jackson's on George Street with Jess, an old work pal from the London 2012 Olympics and now back in her native Australia.

Jackson's a favourite haunt down by the quayside and ferries but all topped, literally, by Jess taking us to her workplace - 61 storeys above the city.

Amazing vistas -  and all captured by Jean's wonderful camera work

Manly

Jean writes:

Back into city transport mode and the bus took us to the ferry, with the iconic sights of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Opera House.

 From there to Manly, where we met Till, a friend of Ruth's from her Australia days. 

She took us up to North Head, a lovely look out over the sea, where Ruth and friends loved to spend time.  She told us a few stories and we scattered some of Ruth's ashes.  Rather poignantly, a beautiful butterfly flitted around for about ten minutes, but not staying in one position for long enough for me to record well on camera.

We then met Till husband Greg, who also knew Ruth, and their children, Will and Becky for lunch.

Dave and I stayed on in Manly and found the 'Australian Open of Surfing" - just heats at the moment, finals next weekend.  

Back at Circular Quay in Sydney, we walked in the Botanic Garden.

The Manly Ferry

Dave writes:

I don't think the Manly Ferry service has changed one bit since we were last here six years ago.

The boats look like the same ones that have been doing sterling work for decades.

Along with various other ferry services they are an iconic sight, leaving from the jetty at Circular Quay and backing out towards Sydney Harbour Bridge before heading twice-hourly out to Manly.

The bridge has always held a special affection for me as my dad helped build it back in the 1930s.

He was an overhead crane driver for the steel company on Teesside  involved in the bridge's construction.

Dad's name was Sydney and it was a family joke the bridge had been named after him.

The older I get the more I like to believe it.

Ancient History?

Jean writes: 

Tonight we're in Kings Cross, Sydney, and this evening took a trip up the road and back to check out restaurants, cafes and also the bus stop, as we need to be at Manly fairly early tomorrow.  

I didn't see anyone more than a half our age, and most of the were in their twenties! 

We allowed five hours for a three hour journey between Ulladulla and Sydney this morning and were pushing it to arrive in time because I'm a bear of little brain who is easily distracted.  The attraction was a blowhole at Kiama.  

We had visited this spot on the coast South of Wollongong with Julian and family, a few years back, to see the lighthouse and cliff features.  The day was bright, sunny and warm - quite a change from the weather we've had in recent days.  

The sea was bright blue, the coastline had lovely bays and cliffs and we saw a group of young people surfing.  

The blowhole was spectacular.  The sea rushing in with destructive waves finding weak points in the volcanic rock and widening them until a cave is formed.

The uprushing spray eventually works its way through the roof of the cave, until the spray can be seen from the cliff top.

In an effort to keep down costs since Adelaide, we have bought breakfast items and a variety of items for evening meals and eating them at our motel rooms along the way.  Dave had an unexpected visitor yesterday, who arrived while I was swimming.

In fact, I've swum for the last two mornings, both in tiny pools, eleven to twelve metres in length.  All to myself, though, and some exercise is better than none.  

Nightmare on George Street

Dave writes:

Returning the hire car to Europcar at their Sydney base at 818 George Street proved woe and thrice woe. 

Jimmy Satnav got us through the suburbs but at the critical point lost the plot and we spent 20 minutes circling the area without being able to nail it in the busy and complex city centre traffic. 

Eventually we parked in a multi-storey we felt was near and managed to locate on foot the Mercure Inn from where Europcar operate. 

Having explained our plight I suggested, quite reasonably, to the rep the easiest thing to do was for him to walk the five minutes with us to the multi-storey and guide us back through the traffic to their garage. 

No.  

He couldn't possibly leave the office unmanned and in any case we could drive to their Darling Harbour sub-branch not that far away. 

I protested he would not like to do a similar journey if he were to be driving in London for the first time but he simply would not have it. 

Armed with his map, Jimmy and Jean we set off. 

There followed the worst 30 minutes of my otherwise distinguished driving career. 

Sydney rush hour equals London and as we were quickly lost again despair set in, for me at least.

At one point we crossed a bridge leaving town and heading for the far western suburbs with me in four lanes of speeding traffic without a clue. 

Jean and Jimmy managed to turn us round - then a miracle. 

Back on the other side of the bridge I just happened to see a sign for Allen Street in Darling Harbour, our destination, and then a tiny Europcar sign. 

As we handed the car over and rep 2 examined it for damage I said somewhat peevishly the only damage he would find was to my head. 

Troubles not over though. 

After unloading our huge amounts of baggage and carriers we needed a taxi to run us across town to our hotel on Kings Cross. 

Europcar rep 2 rang for a cab which never materialised but finally after hailing various other candidates one stopped only to declare we had too much luggage because his spare tyre occupied half the boot. 

Ten minutes later, success, only to find we were too late (5.30) to check in at our hotel. No one was there and we had to find our key in the outside safe.

However. 

We had seen from the hotel's previous blurb that because they are a " heritage " hotel they did not have  a lift. 

Still you might think room 3 would be on the ground floor but no of course not. 

So all our stuff had to be lugged up the stairs before finally we made it. 

Quite an afternoon but I'm just relieved I didn't commit/cause any traffic foul-up/accident.

We booked Europcar a while back for New Zealand and we are kind of stuck with them.

I shall be writing, however, about their man's refusal to shut up shop and pop over to the multi-storey with me. 

It was wrong on so many levels ! 

Ruth

I'm finding it hard to believe that Ruth left us a year ago.  

She loved Australia a lot and would so much have enjoyed hearing about all of our exploits.

I miss her so much.

I thought today would be very difficult but actually, it's been no harder than usual.  Every day is painful. 

Tweeting

Jean writes:

No, I haven't got confused with Twitter, but it's another posting about birds!

We had hoped to spend more time using the extensive walking trails in Mallacoota this morning, but the day dawned breezy and overcast.  

We decided to check out a trail starting close to our B&B but were cut short by the onset of a drizzle.

We did manage to take in several twitching treats though:

Pelican on (and off!) a post

Royal Spoonbills in a nest across the water

Eagle? Osprey? 

Australian White Ibis 

Plenty more too.

...he made his home in that fish's abdomen 

Dave writes:

A great line from a song in a George Gershwin masterpiece Porgy and Bess which came back to me at the Killer Whale Museum at Eden. 

Part of one wall related the story of James Bartley who in 1891 was apparently swallowed by a whale only to emerge alive 15 hours later as the animal was being cut up after being killed by local whalers. 

His hair and body were white, he was delirious and remained so for a month but survived, working until his death 18 years later aged around 39. 

However, looking at Wiki, as I suspected there are doubts ... or as the Gershwin song goes "it ain't necessarily so."

A little more credible is the apparent practice around the same era of rheumatism sufferers spending an hour or so in a dead whale's blubber. 

Holes were pierced big enough for people to sit in and the effect was rather like a Turkish bath. 

However, no photos to back it up, just an artist's impression.

By contrast the story of the killer whale known as "Old Tom" is at the heart of the museum, its skeleton dominating the ground floor. 

Old Tom and his like "worked" in co-operation with local whalers by forcing smaller species of whale into their path. 

Their reward once the prey was dead was the tongue and lips -a treat for the big boys who were happy to leave the carcass to the whalers. 

Strange but true and when Old Tom's body was found floating offshore in 1930 it promoted the foundation of the museum we saw today. 

Good to know of course that whaling is largely banned these days. 

What an Entrance!

Tuesday 3rd January

Jean writes:
There were so many highlights today, it's difficult to know where to start!

Let's begin with a place having a strange (but descriptive) name - Lakes Entrance.  It's at the northern end of Ninety Mile Beach and it was clear lakes were involved, but there had been lakes at Sale and environs, but nothing to compare with this.  As we approached down a steep slope, a breathtaking view of the sea, harbour, jetties and lakes greeted us, all with vegetation to match.  The photos really don't do it justice as you need to see the panorama.  

As if that wasn't enough, we descended to a beautiful reserve, to find pelicans, swans, gulls and a shag trying to swallow an eel its entirety, and having problems!  The gulls gathered menacingly, in the hope of some pickings.

The built-up area of the town looked rather touristy but, nevertheless, the scenery and wildlife are so amazing that, if on the same route in the future, we will definitely stay there (though not in the school holidays!).

Our destination today was Mallacoota - off the main A1 and therefore not as built-up as some of the other attractive locations.  This, at the end of a longish day, was another wonderful sight with great views.  We only had time for a sample, but will have time to explore more fully tomorrow as we only have a short onward drive.  Our accommodation is also great and our hosts are very friendly and helpful.  On a short trip out just after sunset, I spotted oyster catchers doing what they do best on the shore - catching oysters! 

There were other highlights this morning too.  After yesterday's visit to the southern parts of Ninety Mile Beach we journeyed to Seaspray, closer to Sale, and drove along parallel with the beach northwards to Golden Beach.  Both beaches isolated (well, nearly!) and super.  

On the way back to the main road, we saw an emu, which was lovely but, as I approached carefully, so as not to scare him, he came towards me - tame, I think! 

Other points of interest for me:
Land use - gravel and sand industry inland from Ninety Mile Beach
Use of sprinklers for irrigation
Landscape much greener this afternoon - apparently lots of rain recently
More forest with denser trees
Loads of butterflies.

Sale snags

Dave writes:

Snag 1.  Jimmy Satnav (qv) puzzled over Sale yesterday  and landed us at the wrong motel. 

Complicating matters the phone number for the correct one seemed to be the same as the impostor. 

Managed to get a call through eventually and with a different address made it okay though around 30 minutes later than we might have been.  

Probably not Jimmy's fault and  he got us through a long day's drive today with only one disagreement. 

Snag 2. All packed and set to leave this morning we could not find the key to our room. 

Searched high and low, unpacked and re-packed cases and bags, scrabbled about under beds and furniture but to no avail. 

About to give up on 30 minutes when Jean found it hanging in the slot in the wall where the tag part doubles up as the lights prompt. 

Grrr. 

However, all swiftly forgotten on another day of astonishing sights and landscape. 

A magnificent part of the world yet in the last 45 minutes of the drive, part of it along the A1, we didn't have a single vehicle behind us.